#if I draw then I just won’t pay attention to the stream at all

[jrwiyuri]

Want to watch Slimecicle but also want to draw :((

[sailoryooons]

Knocked | ksj | (m)

☾ Pairing: Streamer!Seokjin x f. reader

☾ Summary: Living with people is difficult, but all things considered, your new roommate isn’t terrible. He cooks, he cleans, and if you had to be honest - incredibly attractive. But his habit of streaming until the early hours of the morning while yelling and making other questionable noises has pushed you to the limit. You’ve finally decided to risk your sanity and put it all on the line with a reckless bet in hopes of getting some peace and quiet at night.

☾ Word Count: 10,673

☾ Genre: Roommates to lovers, smut, humor

☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 

☾ Warnings: Cheesy humor, Jin is an annoying gamer, a lot of game talk, stupid bets, explicit language, references to an ungendered ex partner, a very cheesy plot i like cheese, jin crossing a boundary but he apologizes okay!!! sexually explicit content including oral (m. receiving) vaginal fingering, nipple play, a lot of body fluids like a loooot of spit and drool, protected vaginal sex, fast sex because they’re both overwhelmed and honestly this is vanilla but they are CUTE!!!!

☾ Published: January 19, 2023

☾ A/N: SHE IS HERE AND SHE ISN’T BEAUTIFUL OR EDITED BUT SHE IS FINISHED AND CHEESY AND THIS JIN IS REALLY CUTE OKAY. My inner gamer went fucking nuts in this I am so sorry I really like playing Apex Legends and I got too deep into the game lore so hopefully people can appreciate that. These two were just thirsty for each other and both busted nuts quickly okay it has happened to me jgdhgijhd thats tmi okay HAPPY READING.

☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

Masterlist | Ask | Room for Rent Collab

A crash and a yell startle you in the kitchen, the spatula in your hand clattering into the egg pan as Seokjin lets out an unintelligible string of cursing and yelling. Closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, you try and center yourself in patience. It’s not uncommon in your apartment for two to hear him suddenly break out into yelling, and it surely won’t be the last. 

Kim Seokjin isn’t the worst roommate. Not by a longshot, when you consider the horror stories you’ve read in Reddit threads and seen on TikTok. He’s clean, he has an aesthetic eye for decoration, he’s an amazing cook, he pays his portion of bills on time, and he doesn’t steal food. Nor does he hog any of the common spaces in the house.

The negative? Seokjin is constantly gaming, which wouldn’t be a bad thing if he gamed quietly. Namjoon hadn’t warned you that Seokjin was a large-scale streamer before you moved in, focused on first-person shooter content and paid tournaments. 

It had taken about three hours into moving in when he screamed for you to realize that there was no fixing that bit. 

Meal finished and plated, you move to the dining room, sitting cross-legged in the chair and turning on the TV louder than necessary to tune out Seokjin’s hollering. You’ve come up with plenty of ways to tune him out, and listening to everything else on extreme volume is the easiest. 

Your neighbors must hate you. 

Halfway through your meal and eyes glued to RuPaul’s Drag Race, Seokjin comes trailing out of his room, drawing your attention. It isn’t a hard thing to do. For a grown man who is chronically wired to his PC, he is beautiful. The kind of beauty that is used in dramas and romantic comedies kind of beautiful. 

Dark, soft hair that is usually left shaggy and air-dried from the shower but you know looks dashing styled back for parties, equally dark eyes that shimmer with delight when he tells a horrible joke that he thinks is particularly amusing, full lips that would earn the envy of Aphrodite herself - Seokjin is painfully, artfully perfect. 

Except for the constant gaming. 

“Wow, didn’t offer to make me breakfast?” he asks. It’s more of a jest than anything, popping the fridge open in search of a caffeinated beverage. “How little do I mean to you?” 

“Check the microwave, nerd.” 

He looks surprised, meandering to the appliance in question and opening the door to see a plate of breakfast for dinner inside. “Wow,” he sighs dreamily. “You really are my favorite roommate.”

“I’m your only roommate.”

“Well, you’re better than Namjoon.”

“Mmm. That isn’t a hard feat, I don’t chronically break pieces of furniture.”

Humming his agreement, Seokjin shoves eggs into his mouth, munching happily. “When are you going to finally play some games with me, huh?” 

“Mmmm never.”

“You think I don’t know you have a little setup in there?”

“I like Animal Crossing. You like Apex.”

“Come on, I can teach you Apex.”

It’s a conversation you’ve had a million times. Gaming is the single thing that the two of you have in common. When you first discovered that Seokjin worked in the digital sphere and was a content creator for popular games online, you were a bit worried. It wouldn’t have been the first time you had been fetishized for so much as liking a game. 

Thankfully, Seokjin was alright. He didn’t make it weird, and after a casual comparison of the things you liked to play, he decided that the interests weren’t common enough to be a huge pain in the ass about it. 

He did really want to play at least once, with you though.

“I know how to play Apex,” you mumble, eyes flickering back to the TV. Your last situationship revolved around playing the stupid first-person shooter together. “I don’t like it.”

As in, you were absolutely never playing that game again after being worn out from it and having it associated with someone who kind of sucked anyway. 

“How can you not like Apex?” Seokjin mutters, more to himself than anything else.

Thankfully he drops the subject, distracted by your show. He shuffles to the couch, where you join him eventually, both of you tucked into the cushions as you watch the show. For the most part, Seokjin is quiet, only peppering you with questions during the commercial breaks. You’re happy to answer. 

It’s comfortable, your little life with him. You’ve almost lived together for a year, and despite the annoying gaming thing and his habitual bad jokes, you like living with Seokjin. You like having him as a friend, even. 

Things are good.

-

Things are not good. You clench your jaw as you re-read the email, feeling the tension creep into your shoulders. You can already feel the headache that has not yet happened but is predestined. 

If people would just read their emails before sending a snarky request with your boss CC’d- 

Mark: Come by my office, please. 

Sighing, you push out from the desk and head toward your boss's office. Your stomach flips uneasily, unsettled as you walked by the windowed offices of the executive staff. It isn’t that you’re afraid of your boss, but you certainly have been having a bad enough day without having to explain that if Alicia in accounting had just read your email she wouldn’t be confused.

At the appointed office, you tap lightly on the door frame. “Hi, still a good time?”

It’s obviously a good time, but for some reason, you feel the need to break the tension by clarifying. Your boss is a wide-set man who ushers you in with a wave. “Catch the door for me, please.”

The door shuts with a click and it feels like impending doom. 

Sitting quickly in a chair, you wait with a racing heartbeat as Mark finishes writing an email. The silence is awkward so you distract yourself by looking at the pictures of him and his family on his shelves as if you haven’t seen them a dozen times, and looking at his nameplate and literally any other object in his office to keep from feeling uncomfortable. 

The horrible 70s rock that plays softly in the background only makes it worse. 

With a final click on his mouse, he turns to you and says, “Sorry about that, trying to get through all these damn sales contracts.”

“Sounds exhausting.” You have no idea if it is - sales isn’t your area of expertise. “I know they’ve been busy.”

“Tons of new clients, which is always great but the paperwork is a killer.” 

“Makes sense.” 

“What is Alice in accounts losing her mind about? I saw that you’re missing invoices for radio stations and it’s way past the cycle?” 

“As explained in my email to Alice, the station in question filed for bankruptcy and has a halt on all their funds. This was something I communicated two months ago with accounting and legal. I believe you may have been on it as well, though perhaps I left you off.” You didn’t leave him off. You don’t leave him off any emails. “Those invoices are all going to be a mess until that’s sorted.”

“Look,” he sighs. “We all have a shit ton going on right now. One email letting us know that payment would be an issue isn’t going to cut it. You can’t assume that we see the emails. Was it flagged as high-importance?”

“Yes.”

And I mentioned it in three meetings and a sticky note, you think. 

“See, it’s just not foolproof. It’s your job to overcommunicate these things. You can't rely on accounting or me to remember these things for you.”

You give him one slow blink. Then another. 

“Understood,” you answer, throat tightening. “I will make sure to overcommunicate from now on, I apologize for the confusion.” 

“Thanks,” he says, a dismissal. “Door closed on the way out, I have a stupid call to jump on.” 

Door closed behind you, you wonder how anyone gets anything fucking done around this place. Because of course doing all of the things logical and reasonable to communicate a change in accounting isn’t reasonable. Going above and beyond and being responsible for other people not reading their email is now your job to compensate for. 

Steam blowing from your ears, you march back toward your desk in a blind rage, fists open and closing. You don’t see it coming when Yoongi smacks into you, eyes glued to his phone and fresh iced-americano now coloring your blue shirt a nice shade of mud. 

“Holy fuck I am so sorry,” Yoongi swears. “Shit - fuck - sorry.” 

Cold leeches through you like a knife. You rush to the bathroom, Yoongi’s cursing and apologies drifting behind you. The press of paper towels lifts a little of the yellow from your shirt, but it doesn’t fix the sticky-cold cling of fabric to your chest and the unmistakable stain down the front of your outfit. 

“Fucking perfect.”

-

Blessedly Seokjin isn’t home when you arrive stained in dry coffee, smelling like Starbucks, and sagging with a delightful mix of rage, wrath, and irritation. Like an angry little storm cloud, you move around the apartment, snapping cabinets closed extra hard and yanking your blouse off with a little more violence than usual. 

A hot shower makes most of the tension bleed away, but not all of it vanishes. Wrapped in a towel and turned into a prune, you reach for the clothes on the counter and realized in your haste to peel yourself out of Yoongi’s coffee, you didn’t bring any with you. 

It doesn’t matter anyway. Seokjin isn’t home, so you yank the door open and march toward your room, running smack into your second person of the day with a startled yelp and thankfully, a very tight grip on your towel. 

“Why are you all wet?” Seokjin shrieks, wiping his shirt as though he could get rid of the you-shaped wet stain. “And naked!”

“I’m in a towel! Why are you here?”

“I live here!”

“I meant right now! You weren’t home!”

“Well, I do come home, usually! And I yelled I was home when I got here so you would hear me!”

“Well, I was in the shower!”

“Obviously!” 

For a moment, the two of you stand there. You’re dripping a puddle onto the tile and the cold air has goosebumps breaking out all over your body. You shiver as Seokjin’s eyes flicker down for a split second before he’s looking at the ceiling and gesturing. “Well - go find clothes!”

“I will! Jeez!” 

You storm into your room, slamming the door and pressing your back against it. Your towel is gripped tight in your fist, heart hammering. You’re both adults and while being in a towel in front of Seokjin isn’t embarrassing or scandalous, it was unexpected and new. 

As you get dressed quickly, you can’t help but think of the way his cheeks tinged pink and the nervous way he shifted. It was… cute. 

With clothes on, Seokjin seems a lot less nervous around you. He’s still a little stiff, you notice. You bump into him as the two of you navigate the kitchen together and he ducks his head, the tops of his ears red. You file the information away for another time, feeling your cheeks warm when you go to reach for a pair of tongs but he already has them held out to you. 

It isn’t uncommon behavior. He’s known you long enough to know your habits around the kitchen, and you’ve cooked enough meals together to recognize the patterns in which the two of you move around the kitchen. 

Music plays in the background, Seokjin humming along. Occasionally, he sings the words, voice low and soft over the notes.

“You have a nice voice,” you note as you flip the oven off. He’s always had a nice voice, but you’ve never said anything before. He raises his brows as you grab oven mitts. “You do,” you insist with a grin. “I promise I’m not lying.”

“A great voice to go with a great face right?”

“Ew, here we go.”

He moves out of your way as you open the oven, leaning on the counter and crossing his arms over his broad chest. “Maybe I should sing on stream. Do you think they would like that? People already think I’m the most handsome streamer.”

“Sure, maybe do some sort of caroling or something for the holidays.”

He pauses. “That’s actually not a terrible idea. What if I just called my friends who were streaming on Discord and started caroling to them? I could make it a charity thing and select streams based on donations.”

Placing the hot pan on the top of the stove, you glance at him sidelong. “Do you do charity streams a lot?”

“All the time. Most of the long streams I do are for charities.” 

“So it’s not all just… earning cash?”

“No, I get plenty of that.”

“So why do you need a roommate?” 

Seokjin leans over you, to pluck a fry off of the pan. He doesn’t move away immediately, eyes dropping down to yours as he sticks the french fry in his mouth. The warmth of his chest radiates through your shoulder where you touch and suddenly, you feel a buzz at his nearness.

It’s impossible not to drop your eyes down to his mouth as he chews. For a moment, you’re dazed by his pillow lips - they really are a marvel to look at. Then he’s smirking and murmuring, “For the cooking. Did you get these out of a frozen bag? Ugh.”

Spell broken you swat at him and he laughs, leaning away again. “I don’t like to be alone,” Seokjin admits. “Having a roommate is nice. Granted, I was supposed to be living with Namjoon until he and Jungkook decided to be in love and all that. Now I have you filling out the rest of his lease.”

“So you can afford to live alone in this city and don’t?”

“Hey, I also save a ton of money. I will want to buy a house one day. Consider yourself as a part of my savings tactic.” 

“Uh-huh.” 

Rooming with Seokjin had been of convenience. Finding affordable living in the city was nearly impossible - especially on your salary - and when Namjoon had announced after only two months of living with Seokjin that he and his boyfriend were getting their own place, it had timed up perfectly. You had been vaguely familiar with Seokjin at the time, and you desperately needed cheaper rent.

You’d never really asked why Seokjin had a roommate at all. He had a work-from-home job at a software company doing something that went far beyond your understanding, and he made a ton from streaming. 

Seokjin plops down on the couch instead of the dining room table, a plate full of chicken nuggets and fries balanced on his knee as he pats the seat next to him without looking. You definitely went the easy route for dinner after your terrible day, and Seokjin seems to pick up on the fact that tonight is an eat-from-the-comfort-of-the-couch kind of vibe. 

“Ugh,” Seokjin sighs as he watches Shangela get eliminated from the top four on All-Stars 3. “That is heartbreaking. She worked really hard.”

Seokjin has never really voiced being a fan of the show, but you have a sneaking suspicion he watches it because you are, and it’s something to bond over. Maybe you should play a round of Apex with him.

Instead, you say, “Yeah, she deserved it.” You pause. “Thanks for watching with me, tonight. I had a rough day.” 

“Hmm. I can tell.” He leans and squeezes your bicep absently. “I’m here for ya.”

Though you say nothing, your insides do a little bit of a flip.

-

Glancing at the clock on the stove, you frown. Pausing your show, you pull up your phone, paging over to Twitch to pull up Seokjin’s stream. He’s been doing one of those stream-a-thon things again, and you haven’t seen him come out to eat since the morning. It’s well into the evening now. 

Seokjin’s stream pulls up and you see him in the corner of his screen, the familiar lighting in his room glowing in the background. His room is surreptitiously clean, free of any garbage and clutter. His bed is always made any time you see it, and the beautiful tiles of pulsing lights above it make a nice ambiance for his stream. 

Currently, he is focused, leaning a little too far toward his screen as he talks to his teammates. Taehyung and Jungkook, by the sound of it. There’s no evidence suggesting he has left his room today, which urges you to get up and head to the kitchen, closing out the stream.

In silence, you put together a small meal. A wrap, a small back of chips, and some damn water will do him some good. Pulling up his stream again, you wait until his match finishes and he’s leaning back, talking to chat. 

A little nervous, you walk with food in hand to his bedroom door where you can hear his soft voice. You knock lightly and he calls you in. Carefully, you stick your head in and see him turn. You’re out of shot from his stream, but he’s confused nonetheless. You never interrupt. 

Sliding the plate into view, Seokjin’s face lights up. He rolls away from the computer and comes over, his headset on his head still as he gushes, “Holy fuck thank you. You are literally the best. A goddess. A queen. Royalty. Angel among humans. I’m starving.”

“Yeah, it’s like seven at night idiot.” 

“Yeah, whatever. Thank you.” He bites into the wrap eagerly, taking a few minutes to chew and swallow. He pauses and glances you up and down before smiling. “Really, thank you. That was incredibly thoughtful of you.”

“Uh-huh.” You glance at his screen. “Have a good rest of your stream.”

-

Jin: Left lunch for you in the fridge. I made extra this morning. 

You look at the text and furrow your brow, toothbrush still popped into the side of your cheek. You continue absently scrubbing as you walk to the fridge and pull it open. Sure enough, there’s a glass dish with a sticky note on it and a smiley face. 

Plucking the note off the top, you read it. Thanks for taking care of me. Now I’ll take care of you. 

With a smile bright enough to light up the entire city, you go about getting dressed for work.

-

The smile doesn’t last long. Work drags on unsteady, tired feet, and once again, you are stuck in a slew of responsibilities that shouldn’t be yours, reading emails that are reiterating things already discussed, and joining meetings that should be emailed. 

By the time lunch comes and goes, you realize that you haven’t yet eaten. Tucked in the small cubicle, you nibble on Seokjin’s homemade meal, eyes glued to the neverending scroll of budget tracking and invoices. 

A raging headache lurks behind your eyes and though your lunch is superb - as it often is with Seokjin’s cooking - you can’t help but feel your frustration mount by the time your next meeting rolls around. 

Meeting after meeting interrupts your afternoon, and when you finish your last one long past the time to go home, your nerves are fried and a high-strung feeling follows you all the way to your car as you scroll through all of the emails you have yet to get to.

Because of all the fucking meetings. 

The trip home is silent. Your fingers ache with the grip on the steering wheel of your car and when you park in the lot of the apartment complex, you sit there for a moment, car off, world muted by the car doors. 

Head pressed against the steering wheel, you take a few steady breaths. It feels like you might cry, which isn’t typical after a work day. But you’re frustrated and tired, and that goddamn headache is still looming in the back of your eye sockets. 

Upstairs and in your apartment, you breeze past Seokjin who is in the kitchen. You mumble something about a migraine and he barely gets a moment to say anything before you’re in your room, door pressed shut. You lay in your bed without even taking your work close off, wrapping yourself in your blanket and closing your eyes. 

The next thing you know, there’s something warm pressed against your brow. You frown and groan, rolling over and feeling several joints in your body pop. Your eyes flutter open and you see Seokjin leaning over you, making you flinch slightly. 

“Sorry,” he laughs. “But it’s really late and you should eat. I know you have a headache so I brought you meds and a cold towel. And ramen. I make the best ramen.”

“Jungkook makes the best ramen,” you correct, sighing and leaning up a little. Your movements are stiff, tangled in a blazer and dress pants. “Ugh, I slept like this?”

“Jungkook does not make the best ramen. I will take that away.”

“Fine, fine.” You take the medicine from the nightstand and chase it with the water glass offered. “Thanks.” You look at all the things he brought you and your insides begin to melt. He lingers near the doorway, eyes soft, expression warm. “Thank you for thinking of me. I… wow.” 

He shrugs, suddenly shy. “No big deal. Now eat the best ramen in the world or I’m going to have a fit.” 

With that, Seokjin leaves you to eat your ramen in peace. The first taste is amazing, already warming you up. You realized you’re ravenous, pulling noodles into your mouth hungrily. Absently, you think that it is the best fucking ramen in the world.

-

“What’s with you?” Seokjin asks as you drag your feet slowly in the grocery store. Rarely do you shop together, but today is an exception. “You look like a zombie.”

You nearly shoot daggers at him. “I lost my headphones,” you snap. “Which means I have to hear your gaming all night.”

“Oh come on, I’m not that loud.”

“Watch one of your streams back, I’m sure you’ll disagree.”

He sighs, turning the cart as you walk down the spice aisle. “Sorry, I’m preparing for this huge Apex tournament. Jungkook and I have been practicing duos a lot and it’s been a bit frustrating. Everyone has fucking aim assist these days, I swear that console players are doing to ruin-”

“Jin.” He pauses his rant. “I’m just asking you to keep it down a little. I no longer have the means to ignore you… moaning weirdly during a game.”

“What?”

“You haven’t noticed? You kind of moan and yell. It’s… ask your stream about it.”

He stops walking, staring at you as you walk ahead. “I don’t do that.” You snicker and he makes a frustrated noise. “I don’t!”

Five minutes pass with Seokjin sulking about your comment. It’s when you’re in the milk aisle that he says, “So you’ve just been imagining me moaning on the other side of the wall, huh?”

“W-what?” 

“Admit it. You’ve been thinking about me moooaaaning you’re having dirty thooooughts.” He sing-songs this to you, poking at your sides as you open the fridge to get milk.

“I am not.”

“It’s totally cool. I get it, handsome bachelor right on the other side of the wall, you’re bound to get curious and - oof.” 

“Put this in the cart,” you deadpan, having hit him in the stomach with the gallon of milk. He takes it from you and obliges, though there is a shit-eating grin on his face. 

Seokjin isn’t right, but he isn’t explicitly wrong. When you first moved in, you had been shy and wondered about the attractive boy who lived just on the other side of the wall. Once you had fallen into familiarity, though, there had not been anything there.

Except recently. 

The last few weeks have felt like the two of you have reached a new level of shared living space. You had done things together before, but now you find yourself making all your meals with Seokjin, bringing him snacks during stream, waking up to him making you breakfast or having prepared you lunch. 

And now you’re doing groceries together, which was something uncommon enough to make you wonder.

You think back to the gentle way he made you dinner and brought you medicine when you had a headache, the way that your insides had turned cotton candy at the action and house these days, your eyes lingered on him just a little bit more. 

But no. Seokjin was your roommate, and you learned in your last situationship that you don’t shit where you eat. Which is why you moved out of the old apartment and in with Seokjin in the first place. 

The rest of your shopping experience goes with mild teasing. You’re still a little bit on edge, but not enough to be truly mad, especially when he offers to cook dinner. 

Once again, you find yourself nestled on the couch watching TV before he finally relents and announces he’s going to practice duos with Jungkook. He assures you that he’ll keep it down this time - he isn’t streaming, so you sure hope so - and vanishes for the rest of the evening. 

When you get ready for bed, it is mostly silent on his of the wall. No yelling, but you can hear the soft lull of his voice. Oddly enough, it’s soothing, and you end up falling asleep with the barest sound of his hum through the walls. 

-

Most nights, you can sleep through Seokjin’s yelling at the sudden sound of his knee hitting his gaming desk as he jumps up, a string of expletives laced with other unintelligible expressions of shock, horror, and frustration. Most nights, you can tuck your headphones in, and blissfully fall asleep to the sound of rain, hearing his insanity only once in a while.

Except now you’ve lost your headphones, you don’t have enough money to splurge on a new pair, and Seokjin has been practicing for a tournament for some extremely long stream he has coming up. 

So now, you go nights without sleep. Nights where you drift off to dreamland after a long shift at the bar or studying for your dissertation. Nights like this, where you teeter on the edge between awake and asleep, and you’re startled straight out of your bed from a shout. 

Heart pounding, you grip the edge of your bed, trying to get your bearings as Seokjin’s shouting echoes through the shared wall. You feel sick with the sudden rush of adrenaline and fear, closing your eyes for a moment as the room spins.

Gritting your teeth and ripping your blankets from you, you march to his room, stumbling as you try to get your bearings from waking up so suddenly. Your stomach does a nasty flip, churning at the unplanned activity as you pound your fist on his door.

“Open up, motherfucker!” You screech, hand slamming on the door without pause. “I swear, Seokjin, sometimes I just want to-“ 

The door rips open and you nearly knock him right in his chest. His very bare, very broad chest, lit up by the purple RBG lights on his headphones and strip lighting around his room to improve the ambiance of his setup. 

“Holy shit, woman! What?” 

You blink, momentarily dazed at what you came here for, distracted entirely by the firm curves of his pectorals, skin smooth and gold. Was Seokjin always this in shape or is it a figment spurred by the rush of adrenaline? 

Finding your words is hard, your brain is scrambled and near ready to make dial-up noises at the site of your roommate’s bare skin. “We just talked about this,” you manage to spit out. “And you’re literally going to start screaming the same fucking day we talk about keeping it down?”

“I mean I’m sorry but damn. You don’t have to break the door down.”

“Then stop screaming!”

“You’re the one screaming!”

“Because I’m trying to fucking sleep! I have dealt with you yelling, cheering, slamming the desk and hollering and doing your little moan-scream for almost a year without saying anything!” You yell back, fists clenched and rage boiling. “I’m so fucking over it!”

“Then why have you never mentioned it before? You know, like an adult!”

Your mouth hangs open at the clap back. “Be for real. I am not the problem here.”  

“Well if I’m the problem, why haven’t you communicated that? You’ve been here eight months and it took me asking you at the grocery store to fess up that I was bothering you.” 

“I mean. Yeah, but-”

“So don’t yell at me that I didn’t read your mind and I had no idea I was bothering you. Or get headphones.” 

“How about you start gaming at normal hours? Have you ever thought of that?” 

He rolls his eyes. “You mean my working hours?”

“I mean between the hours before 11 at night, Jin!” 

“Make me!”

“Fine!” You snap, rage pushing you over. “Shall we make a wager?” 

This catches him by surprise. He blinds a few times, tilting his head. “What are you proposing?” 

Crossing your arms, you nod to the computer. “You want me to play Apex so bad? Fine, we’ll make it a competition.” 

“There’s no 1 v 1 in Apex.”

“Duos. Whoever gets the most kills wins. No shields higher than blue, no turning on each other. Just strictly kill count. If win, you don’t get to game past 11 pm anymore.” 

“And if I win?”

“What do you want?”

“What can I have?” He pauses, looking you up and down. Something feels different as he does this. His gaze heavier. Darker. He licks his lips, your attention is drawn to the way the blue lights glittering on his wall turn the spit-slicked surface blue. “How about any favor at any time that I ask? Are we also trying to win as a duo?”

“Sure. No holds barred on how we get kills.” 

Again, he examines you, trying to puzzle something out. Wordlessly, he walks to his computer and grabs his headset. The door is open to his room, showing that he just has his basic setup turned on, with no intention of streaming. “Jungkook I’ll hit you up tomorrow. I have to kick my roommate's ass.” Jungkook says something on the other side and Seokjin clears his throat. “Yeah, no. Bye.”

He returns, phone in hand. Your phone pings in your room. “Add me on Discord, I guess.” 

Wordlessly, you spin and head to your room. 

There are still things Seokjin doesn’t know about you. Like how you played his favorite game for a year straight, trying to impress your last roommate-turned-fuck-buddy with your skills. While it partially worked in your favor, their failure to commit to you gave you a sour taste about the game. 

It’s been a while since you’ve played. Slower games are more your style, and you haven’t turned on your PC in a while, but as it starts, lights inside of the glass case glittering, you feel a shiver of excitement. 

Your setup is not nearly as advanced as your roommate's, who has three screens, a massive desk and hi-tech camera, a microphone, and a massive custom-built unit that could probably power a tank. Yours is pre-built but sturdy, and you have a single screen with a modest keyboard and headset to match. 

Glancing at the Discord user, you roll your eyes at what Seokjin’s written: WorldWideHandsomeJin.

“Weirdo,” you mutter. 

You add him anyway, getting comfortable in your chair and hitting the call button. He answers immediately, his voice making the hair at the back of your neck tingle as he says, “So are you going to be my Discord kitten?”

“Ew, don’t ever say that again,” you mutter. Navigating your desktop, you start to update the game. “Give me fifteen. I have to update.”

“Really? Newbie.”

“Sorry I don’t play this game every second of my life. I haven’t played since I moved out of the last place.” 

He hums, voice vibrating in your very nice headset. You turn him down a little bit, feeling just a little drunk from the rich timbre of his voice. “That was a… weird situation, huh?”

“A bit.” 

“They play Apex that much too?”

“Not as much as you do.” He hums again. “Who do you main?” 

“Loba.”

“Fine,” you answer as the program opens. “I’m playing Wraith.” 

The game menu blares in your ears, making you squeak and reset all of your old settings. It feels weird to log on, pointedly ignoring the familiar username as you navigate your friends list to add Seokjin. He pops up and selects duos for you. 

Your eyes nearly bug out of your head when you see his rank. “Diamond? Holy fuck do you touch grass?” 

“Says you! You played enough that you hit Diamond in your first season too, nerd. It shows your historical stats. I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“Whatever. Ready up.” 

Neither of you says anything as the system prepares to put you in a game. You look at his stats, raising your brows as you flip through. He’s historically hit the highest rank in the game, making you wonder why he’s dropped recently. He also has a ridiculous skin on his character, making you wonder how long he’s been playing. 

Apex Legends is a first-person shooter game with a battle royale format. Similar to Fortnite, teams load into the game and pick up weapons and other materials to fight other teams the ring of combat gets smaller and smaller. With Seokjin’s selection of Loba guarantees that you’ll be able to stock weapons and ammo. With your selection of Wraith, you can get in and out of situations quickly and you’ll know when an enemy team focuses on you.

As the map loads, you can’t help but feel the tremor in your hand. Your leg bounces up and down as you wait, watching the dropship come into focus. You give Seokjin the power to drop your duo anywhere on the complex map. You almost expect him to launch immediately, but you’re impressed to see that he has enough patience to drop you a moderate distance on the map.

Which means fewer weapons, fewer shields, and fewer teams to kill. You frown as you navigate your character to land near utility boxes full of weapons. Does he think you need to take it slow? Or maybe he’s worried about giving you too many people to kill easily. 

“Team to the north,” you comm, opening up boxes and selecting weapons, shields, and med packs. “What do you shoot?”

“Energy. Preferably the volt.” 

“Volt here. Let me know if you see a flatline or sentinel.” 

“You snipe with Wraith?” 

“When she says someone’s aiming at me, yeah?” 

He hums but does not comment the two of you use the map to navigate. You fall into a rhythm, using the controls feels sort of familiar. As you work your way toward the next ring, Seokjin startles you when he starts firing shots at a time looting that you miss. You flinch and whirl, but he’s already eliminated the pair. 

“Two zero.” 

“Whatever,” you growl, ignoring his smug voice.

Shooter, move your character in game commands. You dodge behind a box as an enemy team rattles off shots. Your heart pounds as you use a sniper to look in the direction of the shots, seeing the duo up on a tower. Lining up the scope, you click and hit a player. 

“Knocked,” you call automatically. The second teammate makes a bad call and tries to get their knocked pair up. You line up the shot and click twice. “Knocked. Out.” You move your mouse and finish the other teammate. “Out.”

“Yeah, yeah, good comms whatever. We’re even.”

You grin. “Just trying to communicate to my teammate.” 

He snorts. “Sure.”

For a few moments, the two of you navigate to a safe zone. When you see two teams clash, you don’t even think. Normally you’d wait for one team to finish off the other, but you’re in a competition with Seokjin, too. Suddenly, winning means more than just peace and silence.

“Knocked,” you call, sniping another player. “Out. Out. Knocked.” 

“You motherfucker,” Jin hisses. “You’re supposed to - out - tell me when we’re going to push a team.”

“Hey, that was my kill!”

“You only knocked him!” 

“Whatever. And I pushed them because I want to win.”

“I didn’t realize you were so good at this.” The two of you start looting the load out of the eliminated players. “You kept saying I don’t like Apex and here you are, really good at it.”

“Honestly, I used to like it.” Together, you traverse the map until you enter the next ring. Seokjin pauses to use Loba’s pop shop ability, a cache of weapons and materials in the local area showing up in front of you. As you sort through them, you continue, “But I used to play with my old roommate and I used to do it to impress them. As it turns out, being good at a video game does not a relationship make.”

“Hmm. Well if it makes you feel any better, I like you even without the Apex.”

“I meant I was trying to get them to like me romantically.”

“I know what you meant.” 

You pause. Seokjin does not explain his statement, humming lightly as he picks up ammo and leaves the little shop running. He skips down the hill with his character, his happy little tune deep in your ear. 

Nerves get the best of you in the next firefight with a team. You get knocked and screech into the headset, thinking that your chance to win is over. Seokjin, thankfully, takes pity on you and heals you after your near-death experience. But now he’s in the lead, and there are only five teams left. 

I know what you meant. 

The words sit heavy on you. While you are attracted to Seokjin you know it’s a bad idea. Roommates being anything more than roommates often brings other issues. You’d learned firsthand how poorly not defining a relationship could go. That was on you as an adult too but… you didn’t want something in between.

And you have no inclination of what he meant. 

Seokjin wasn’t a very flirty person. Teasing you came easily enough, and he was always nice. He had been a little extra nice recently since you’d been spending more time together, but there wasn’t anything that would suggest he saw you as more than a roommate. 

Two more people downed, and you were tied. The two of you were more into the game and less into the bet. Your interrupted sleep was long forgotten, and you leaned forward as you devised a plan, locking down a high tower where you could see enemy teams coming to escape the shrinking ring. 

“Glad you got that stupid sentinel,” Seokjin mutters. “Who snipes with Wraith.” 

“Shut up,” you shoot back, though you don’t really mean it. “Your second gun is a fucking wingman.” 

“Because it’s like a one tap to the head!” An incoming team distracts him from arguing with you. “Over by that dino cage.”

“Got it,” you comm back. The second you shoot, you draw fire. “Oh my god do they have a Kraber?” 

“Yeah, but they fucked the shot. You got this.” 

Taking a breath - a little dramatic, you realize as you scope them - you take the shot. You tap one, but they have red armor. You curse, pissed you installed a fucking armor limitation, and duck behind the wall as the other team misses the shot with their kraber again. 

“Best gun in the game and they can’t hit shots!” Seokjin laughs. “Imagine! Their buddy must be fuming.”

You scope again and tap the person again. “Knocked. Do we stand our ground or try and take them?” Another shot misses. “Can you keep a scope on that person you cracked and I can push? Other team is probably trying to wait it out.” 

“If they see you?”

“Then you’re fucked but they’re not going to engage between two snipers. Maybe? I don’t know. Just do your thing.”

And you do your thing as Seokjin runs off toward the enemy team. They no longer have shots on their gun - which makes you roll your eyes, it’s the best gun on the map - and keep focused. Either they think you’re moving or they make a bad call - the healthy teammate tries to pick up their knocked ally and you take the shot. 

“They’re both cracked.” 

“Got it- AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH OTHER TEAM.” 

His screech makes you slam your knee into the underside of your desk. No wonder he does this all the time, you think, realizing that the disrupting noise is a lot easier to make than you originally thought. “Let them take the kill then!”

“Fuck that I want to win!”

“Ew is this about the bet still? Now I want to win the game!”

“That’s what I’m talking about! Ye of little fAIIIIIITH!”

It’s hard not to giggle as he breaks off into yelling, entering a firefight while you try to provide cover and miss your shots. “Stop fucking portaling where I want to shoot!”

“Stop missing!”

“Knocked motherfucker!” 

“Got it!”

Seokjin finishes the two teammates as the knocked enemies on the other team expire. Both of you scream over your headsets. You shoot to your feet as the victory screen flashes. You don’t even wait - you bolt toward the door, your wired-in headset ripping off your head and nearly yanking you back as you go. 

The door is already open as he yells loudly, jumping up and down and grabbing you by the forearms, jumping around in circles with you. It’s stupid but it’s fun, and you can’t help but feel elated as he shakes you wildly, screaming, “Yaaaaaaaaaaaaah!” 

His hands are warm on your biceps, gentle and squeezing you excitedly. And then between one breath and the next, he’s pulling you toward him, pressing his lips to yours. 

A shock goes through you. You freeze for a moment, completely taken aback and unsure how to react. Seokjin realizes what he’s done and immediately backs away, running a hand through his hair and tugging at the strands as he says, “Shit - I am so sorry. That was wow - that was a line crossed without your consent and I’m so sorry.” 

Heat floods you from head to toe. Your heart slams against your chest and you stare at him as he fumbles over an apology, his face red as you feel. Your mind can’t catch up as the warmth spreads from your face to the rest of you.

“I’m genuinely so sorry, I just got really excited and-”

“What did you mean earlier,” you cut him off. “When you were all I know what you meant. Look I… really don’t want to make this living situation weird.”

“Totally understand, I’m so sorry.”

You chew on your lip, looking at him. He looks earnest, eyes round and expression pleading. Your lips tingle where he kissed you, so quickly that you’ve already forgotten. Part of you wants to tell him to kiss you again. It was nice. And the flip in your stomach was… good. 

But the part of you speaking now says, “I had fun gaming with you. Apology accepted. I am super tired though, so I’m going to go to bed okay?”

“Yeah. Listen, I am so sorry. That won’t happen again and I just - that was not cool of me at all.”

“It’s okay.” 

“It wasn’t.” 

You offer a smile, still nervous, fingers twitching. “I know you didn’t like, mean anything by it.”

He frowns. “Well I did but that’s my issue.” 

Your heart is a stone skipping on the smooth surface of a pond. “What does that mean?” 

“Look,” he sighs. “I don’t want to make things weird, alright? I harbor a bit of a crush on you and that was honestly absolutely not okay for me to just-” He gesticulates wildly with his hands. “It was an inconsiderate thing for me to do.” 

A crush. Your breathing hitches and you rub sweaty palms against your pants, nodding. “It’s - we’re okay. We’re fine.” 

Seokjin nods, nibbling on his bottom lip as he stares at you, red-faced and nervous. The silence turns awkward, your mind blanks and buzzes as you try to digest his words.

Crush crush crush crush. 

“I’m gonna go to bed,” you announce abruptly, needing to escape the room to breathe for a moment. He nods, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly as you rush out. “Night!”

Behind locked doors in your room, you cover your face, feeling the way your cheeks are flushed. You do some deep breathing, trying to regulate your heart rate as your brain spins its tires on Seokjin’s words- confession. 

He confused. That he has a crush. 

For a few moments, you just lean over and pant, trying to think how you feel. Your stomach is a bundle of nervousness and your hands are a little shaky. But you’re not upset. In fact, you smile a bit, thinking of the way that Seokjin had turned shy and the way his lips had felt soft for that split second of a chance.

Straightening, you stare at the wall between your bedrooms. Seokjin is right there. Has been right there. And has admitted to liking you and is sweet and kind and fun to hang out with and-

It might be a bad decision. You’ve been down this road before. It ended up with you nursing feelings and deciding that feelings with roommates was a bad idea. But your last roommate didn’t have feelings for you like that. They liked the sex, but that was where the attraction ended. 

So maybe -

You knock loudly on Seokjin’s door. There’s some shuffling on the other side and he opens it, brows furrowed and a little breathless. Before he can ask what you’re doing, you’re pushing past him and asking, “When you say you have a crush on me what do you mean? In the physical, only attracted to your appearance kind of way, or like the would date kind of way?”

“Well I am physically attracted to you,” he answers slowly, turning to look at you. “But I also like you. You’re funny and incredibly kind, and you’re easy to live with. I like the way that you make your hashbrowns a little extra crispy and crunchy, and I like that you think of me when you do things.” 

“So you like me?”

“Yes, I think I… included that?”

You lick your lips, taking a shaky breath. “So you don’t want to just fuck me no strings attached?”

He blanches. “No. I don’t. Look I know I made you uncomfortable-”

“Kiss me.”

“What now?”

“Kiss me!”

There is a fleeting smile Seokjin gives you that later, you’ll think on with a fluttering heart and breathless laugh. But now, all you can think about is the gentle touch of his hands as they cradle your face and the delicate way his lips press against yours, pillow soft and sweet. 

Seokjin smells like his body wash, the sage and juniper intoxicating as you wrap your arms around his neck. His skin is warm as you press your palms against his skin, his pulse throbbing underneath your thumb. 

The kiss is chaste, just a firm press of lips and a surprised noise shared between the two of you. Tentatively, you pull away, eyelashes fluttering as you look up at him. Seokjin’s eyes are swimming pools of darkness framed by long lashes. He’s so beautiful, but up close he’s deadly, flecks of gold glittering in his irises. 

“I just,” you whisper. “I don’t want it to be weird but I also… want.” 

You don’t have to explain. Seokjin’s grin is easy, nodding. He gets it. He gets you. So he leans down again and pulls you in by the waist, fingers curling in the hem of your t-shirt as he tugs you toward him. The motion makes you gasp and he takes the chance to turn the kiss from sweet to carnal, tongue sweeping into your mouth.

Seokjin kisses you slowly, tongue curious and gentle. Your head spins as you kiss him and you can barely breathe, so full of him and thoughts of him and the taste of him that you grip him tight, desperate not to fall over. 

The irritation from him waking you up is long forgotten as he tugs you closer. Your hips press against his, mouths sliding, a mix of gentle smacks, spit, and gasps for air. A buzz tingles through you as you nudge Seokjin toward his bed and he responds immediately, backing up and pulling you with him.

When the back of his legs hit the bed, he falls backward. The two of you become a tangled pile of limbs and kisses and giggles, but you find your place as you slot your knees on either side of his narrow waist, palms flat against his chest and the steady beating of his heart. 

There are stars in his eyes when he looks up at you. For a second, you just look at one another, his hands rubbing up and down your thighs and his eyes locked on your face. His lips and face are rouge, hair messy. You grin and lean down, pressing your lips against him again. 

Kissing Seokjin is invigorating. You can’t help but let little noises slip from your mouth. His fingers press into your thighs, dimpling the flesh as he groans, hips twitching upward for friction. The bulge through his sweatpants makes you squeak and you break the kiss, wiggling your hips down to press against his clothed cock.

“Ugh,” he moans, eyes fluttering shut and head pressing back into his mattress. “Don’t do that. I’m so fucking hard.” 

“Do you want some help with that?”

His gaze softens and his thumbs slide back and forth on your thighs, caressing gently. “I want whatever you want. Nothing, everything, something. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“Well right now… I really want to suck you off.” 

“Oh yeah?”

“Uh huh.” 

Without breaking eye contact, you drop and slide your hand from where it presses against his chest downward. His abs twitch under your hand as you dance along his over-warm skin. His breathing has turned faint and breathy, body nearly trembling as you brush your fingers along the trail of hair leading into his sweatpants.

Watching him is hypnotizing. Seokjin’s lips part slightly as you slide your hand underneath the elastic, brows shooting up when you brush the sticky tip of his cock. 

“No underwear?”

“They’re - nggg - restricting.” 

His shaft is long and smooth, your fingers brushing along the underside, tracing a vein. You’re impressed by the sheer size of his dick, wondering if you’re going to manage to not choke, but the sound he lets you when you wrap your fingers around him and grip him tight erases the apprehension. 

“You sound so good like that,” you breathe, giving a loose-fisted stroke toward the crown, beaded with precum. “Also you have a sizeable dick.”

“Sizeable, huh?” You brush your thumb over the tip, nail gliding over his leaking slit and he lets out a loud moan, making you grin. “Take it out and see how fucking sizeable it is, hmm?”

It’s hard to take him seriously with how ridiculous he sounds, but you slide down the bed, gently getting onto your knees. Using both hands, you tug at his sweatpants, looking up at him through fluttered lashes. 

And… suddenly it’s not a joke anymore. Your mouth waters a bit at the side, his tip swollen and needy. His thick, and you know how good it would feel to just sink down on top of his length, filling up the throb that aches between your legs. 

Pressing your palms firmly into his thighs, you lift yourself up, dipping low to run your tongue along the thick vein that runs up the bottom of his shaft. He lets out a sinful growl, hands fisting the sheet and gasping as you watch him struggle. 

At the tip, you slid a hand up, gripping him firmly as you suckle the dark, swollen flesh into your mouth. His precum is salty on your tongue and you hum, eyes fixed on the rapid rise and fall of his chest and the blush blossoming from his neck to his pecs. 

Seokjin is beautiful under the assault of your mouth. 

Suckling gently, you watch his reaction as your tongue lazily circles around the sensitive tip of his cock. His hips wiggle back and forth but he never bucks up into your mouth, never thrusts deeper than you’re willing to go. 

“Please,” he whispers and it comes out as an almost whine. “More.” 

You give him more, gently sinking your mouth down on him. It’s a stretch but you manage, careful to mind your breathing as you bob gently, hollowing your cheeks for added suction. Expletive-laced moans drip from his mouth, his eyes squeeze shut as you continue to suck gently. 

Drool runs out the sides of your mouth. You let it, the stickiness of your spit and his presume slicking down his cock helps you take more of him in his mouth. When his tip brushes the back of your throat, he nearly growls, fully writhing underneath you now.

Seeing him like this is addicting, worked up and sweating, and falling apart. What you can’t fit in your mouth you grip with your hand, mouth, and fingers stroking together in time to work him up. Your mouth buzzes around him in a self-satisfied hum. 

Seokjin can’t help himself. His hands leave the sheets, one hand going to the back of your head, fingers pressed firmly. He doesn’t push or pull, his grip just firm and begging. The sound as you let him thrust a little is sinful and wet, the cough-choke of your throat accompanied by stilted curses. 

Suddenly, he pulls you up. Cum-mixed spit dribbles down your chin, mouth feeling stretched and swollen as you look up at him. His sweats are around his ankles, abs and thighs flexing as he leans forward, urging you upward. 

Your mouths meet in a heated smack of cum and spit and moans and teeth. Your mind is spinning as he cups your face fiercely, pulling you to your feet and up onto his naked waist. His hands pull at your shirt and you yank it fiercely, breaking your messy kiss just to toss it. 

Seokjin’s hands are warm and starving for you and vicious as he pulls your bralette off, adding it to the messy pile in his room. Steady hands cup your breasts, his eyes glittering as he makes a noise. “Fuck,” he mutters. “Come here.”

You fall forward but his hands steady you, lifting his head to catch a nipple with his mouth. It sets you alight, electricity snapping to life from the motion. You moan, head thrown back, eyes rolling as he nipples lightly on your nipple. 

“Fuck,” you squeak. The heat between your legs hurts, your cunting throbbing for him. “That feels so good.”

He hums, letting go of the hardened peak with a gentle scrape of his teeth, moving his mouth to lavish your other breast. His thumb brushes back and forth over the glossy peak, keeping it stimulated. 

You tremble in his grip, seated in his lap as he places luscious sucks across your chest. 

“You’re beautiful.” Seokjin’s words are mumbled in damp kisses against your collarbone. “You’re smart and sweet and generous and stunning.” 

“You’re beautiful,” you answer. It feels stupid to say, but it’s the only thing you can come up with. Everything feels fuzzy and you’re drowning in the praise. “Why is your discord WorldWideHandsomJin?”

“Shut up.” He rolls the two of you over, a whirlwind of limbs and giggles. “Cause I wanted it to be, and it’s true.” 

“It is,” you agreed, gasping as he slides his hand into your pajama shorts. His fingers brush over your damp panties, and he huffs a laugh when he feels how sticky wet you are. “More.” 

He hums and applies more pressure, but it doesn’t relieve the ache. “No,” you whine, clawing his chest. “Please.” 

“Because you said please.”

With a swift hand, he pulls your shorts and underwear down. You don’t have time to shiver at the cool air of his room hitting your pussy, his fingers brushing up and down. “God,” he groans, dropping his head against the side of your neck. “You’re soaked, baby.” 

Pleasure sparks as he thumbs your clit in gentle circles. You feel arousal flood the pit of your stomach, cunt aching and leaking as he slides a finger up and down, applying pressure to your hole before gently sliding into your cunt. 

It’s not enough. You get breathy all the same, the feel of his finger stroking your front wall making the world around you melt. Your limbs feel heavy and you shut your eyes, feeling the way he strokes your g-spot over and over again. 

“Another,” you gasp, hips bucking upward. “Please, more.”

“Yeah?” he asks. “Greedy pussy needs more?”

His filth makes your mouth pop open. He complies, though, sliding in another finger and fucking into you properly. He lets you roll your hips upward, trying to ride his hand as you chase the feeling in your stomach. 

It feels like you can’t get enough air, heat trapped between your bodies, static sticking to your skin. Seokjin feels like heaven and fucking hell, skin sticky where your bodies touch, thrumming with energy. 

And it’s so much - almost too much. You want him closer, want to be fuller, want the snap of his hips. You dig your fingers into his biceps, mouth brushing against his, words mumbled between pressed lips, “Please.” 

With a slick sound, he pulls his fingers from you. Immediately you miss the feeling, but you’re rewarded as he brings shine-slicked fingers up to his lips, sucking them into his mouth. He leers around his fingers, eyes dark. 

“Yum,” he whispers, bending down and licking into your mouth, letting you taste yourself on his lips. 

For a quick moment, he fumbles in his nightstand, pulling out a condom and breaking the foil with a soft crinkle. He’s painted a soft blue in the lights of his room, the changing colors making him a mirage of neons and soft colors, a haunting and stunning creature all at once. 

Seokjin shuffles you carefully up the bed, peppering your skin with kisses as he goes. Reverent hands stretch your legs wide open for him as he slots himself against you, giving shallow thrusts so that his cock slides against your messy fold. You whine, needed more stimulation, needing to feel full to relieve the ache. 

Grabbing the base of his cock, he strokes upwards again, letting his cockhead catch on your trembling hole. A stream of expletives falls from your lips as your head falls backward, your entire frame vibrating as he slowly slides in. You’re so wet that it helps, but the thick girth of him burns all the way until he is fully sheathed and your walls are fluttering around him.

“Shit, you’re fucking squeezing me.”

“Cause your cock is fucking big!”

“Am I supposed to apologize?”

“No, but please fuck me.”

You need the slide of his shaft against your walls, need to feel the way he hits so deep it’s like he’s in your fucking stomach. Seokjin starts a slow but purposeful pace, pulling all the way out before pushing back in, sliding his hands under your as to lift you slightly. The angle allows him to fuck your spot as he thrusts in, your limbs going slack as the feeling of an orgasm winds from just a few strokes. 

Seokjin fucks you with purpose, stroking a little faster. Sweat beads on his chest, hair clinging to his forehead as he bites his bottom lip, stomach flexing. You watch him through half-lidded eyes, your fingers wrapped around his wrist where he holds you, practically pulling you onto his cock as he fucks you open. 

It’s mind-numbing, everything else fading away as his room swirls in colors, punctuated by the snap of his hips against your wet ass and your high-pitched moans. 

You wish you could be more of a participant, but the way he makes you feel has the room spinning. He fucks you down into the mattress, the slide of your skin against his sheets added friction. Your head hits a pillow, knocking it sideways, your hand trying to find a grip on anything. It finds the wall and you press against it, feeling the squeeze of your breath in your lungs and the coil in your stomach. 

“That's it,” Seokjin urges, one hand leaving your ass to slip between your legs. He circles your clit and your eyes roll back in your head, the roaring feeling of your orgasm coming closer and closer. “Fuck your feel so fucking good - you look so fucking good just taking my cock like this.” He is the vision you think. Brow furrowed, lip tucked between his teeth, all tan, flushed skin and twitching muscles. You can't remember the last time you were fucked into mindlessness, no chance of cognitive thinking at your fingertips. The filth that leaves his mouth only sends you spiraling further, admiration-laced curses punctuated with moans.

You can only moan back in response, most of the sound stuck in your throat. You think you’re babbling now, mouth agape, eyes squeezed so shut that colors explode across your vision. He fucks you hard but at a medium pace, each thrust supported with his full weight, hitting so deep that you can’t breathe.

When you cum, it’s like a freight train hits you, the world going absolute white noise and numb. You lose yourself in the feeling, everywhere and nowhere all at once. You’re aware of the way your pussy pulses around his cock and through the buzz in your ears, you hear him curse, gasping your name as he cums just as hard. 

You have no idea how long it takes for you to come back down. You barely feel your limbs, the tingle in them like when your foot falls asleep but far more pleasant. You roll your head over to find Seokjin breathing deeply, skin glowing with sweat. His eyes flutter open as you stare at him and he grins, tired but genuine. Your stomach leaps. 

“I swear,” he mumbles. “Next time I will last way longer than that. But fuck.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever cum that hard,” you admit, voice hoarse. “I think that is why they call it le petite mort. Holy shit.” 

He laughs and he pulls you in. With the shift of your limbs, you feel how sticky and wet your legs are, thighs pressed together in the mess. You make a face at the feeling, no longer finding it attractive now that you’re not actively fucking, but he kisses you and you immediately forget about it. 

“By the way,” he mutters, voice deep. “I won the bet so you owe me a favor.”

You grit your teeth, realizing that he did win by a single kill. “Fine. What’s your favor?”

“Not much, just want to take you out somewhere nice. Buy you a beautiful dinner. Learn all of your embarrassing stories from middle school and if you had an emo phase.”

“Did you have an emo phase?” 

“You’ll only find out if we go on a date.”

You smile. Your mouth hurts from the kissing and the stretch of his dick, but it doesn’t matter. You brush the sweaty hair from his face, his eyes fixed on your reaction. “Of course, I’ll go on a date with you.” 

“Hmm. Good. Now come on, I wanna fuck you in the shower.” 

“That I can agree with.” 

[sadnymi]

"My Dreams Are Just Dreams... Until They're Not" modern Mattheo riddle × reader [ chapter three ]

[Previous chapter] [Next chapter]

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language,childhood trauma ,abusing, cheating ( not the main characters)

Please understand that from this chapter onwards, the story will delve into darker themes. I urge you to pay close attention to the trigger warnings provided.

words: 2,216

Reading Time : 8mins 26sec

Summery: A week at my best friend's beach house, surrounded by our friends as we meet her soon-to-be fiancé's companions, marks a turning point where the very fabric of my beliefs begins to unravel. It's during this week that I encounter the boy who incessantly appears in my dreams, blurring the distinction between the world of my subconscious and the tangible reality before me. Matthe Riddle emerges as the poison I willingly imbibe, a curse that feels akin to a dream, weaving its tendrils into the very essence of my being.

[ Gif is not mine ]

Red – the hue of blood, the symbol of power, the embodiment of pain. All I could see was red, engulfing my vision in a swirling, crimson haze.

“ you can’t hide forever princess “

Close your eyes and breathe he can’t hurt you- if you can’t see him that’s mean he won’t be able to see you

“ comon , daddy hates waiting princess, he’s going to punish you when he finds you “ shut up - shut up - shut up

Then I hear it—the sound of his steps, each one drawing him nearer and nearer.

“ he’s not coming you mean nothing to him you know? Why would the heir of the most powerful house care about someone insignificant, someone so worthless like you “

“ liar “ I screamed and then it was red all over again all I saw was red

I jolt awake, gasping for air as the tendrils of the nightmare slowly release their grip on me. My heart pounds erratically in my chest, echoing the frantic rhythm of my dreams. Sweat beads on my forehead, and I take deep, ragged breaths, trying to ground myself in reality.

I sit up in bed, my body trembling with the aftershocks of the nightmare. I run a hand through my disheveled hair, trying to calm the racing thoughts in my mind.

" must not fear," I repeated

" | must not let it consume me, fear has no power if he did not find a body to take “

I rush to the window, desperate for a breath of fresh air to quell the turmoil swirling within me. But as I peer outside, my heart lurches in my chest at the sight of him, his gaze locking onto mine. A wave of uncertainty washes over me, leaving me paralyzed with indecision—uncertain if this encounter is real or merely a continuation of the haunting dreams that plague my nights.

Fingers trembling, I hastily pull on my hoodie, seeking refuge in its familiar embrace as I make my way downstairs. Each step feels heavy with apprehension as I navigate the familiar path to the spot where I last saw him standing outside my window. My mind races with questions, my emotions tangled in a web of fear and longing.

As I reach the spot, the air around me feels charged with tension, thick with unspoken words and unanswered questions. I stand there, searching the darkness for any sign of him, my heart pounding in my chest as I grapple with the overwhelming rush of emotions that threaten to consume me.

"Please, tell me I'm not dreaming," I implore, my voice trembling with fear as I search his eyes for reassurance.

He appears bewildered but responds softly, "You're not dreaming, love."

The weight of his words offers a brief respite, but the turmoil within me refuses to be quelled. "What's wrong with me?" I whisper, tears threatening to spill over. "Something is wrong with me."

The floodgates open, and I succumb to the overwhelming wave of emotion, tears streaming down my cheeks in front of him. I despise my vulnerability, yet I cannot suppress the torrent of fear that grips me—the echo of the monster's voice from my nightmare still clawing at the edges of my consciousness.

"I... I don't know what to do," I manage to say between sobs, my words barely audible through the tears.

Suddenly, and with surprising swiftness, he enfolds me in his arms, drawing me close until I can feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against my chest. The warmth of his embrace offers a fleeting sense of familiarity, a small respite from the overwhelming flood of emotions threatening to engulf me.

As I bury my face in his chest, the tears continue to flow, unchecked and unbidden. Despite my efforts to maintain composure, I find myself crumbling under the weight of my fears and insecurities.

But he holds me steadfastly, his presence a comforting anchor in the storm raging within me. With each gentle stroke of his hand against my back, I feel a measure of the tension begin to ease,

In the safety of his embrace, I allow myself to release the pent-up emotions that have been consuming me, to surrender to the vulnerability that lies at the heart of my fear. And as he continues to hold me, offering silent reassurance and unwavering support

Stepping back slightly to meet his gaze, I find his hands still wrapped around me, offering unwavering support in the midst of my emotional turmoil.

"I... I think we know each other," I begin, my voice trembling with uncertainty. "I know you said we don't, but I can't shake this feeling. It's as though I've known you before, as though we're connected in some inexplicable way. I can't explain it, but I feel it deep within me. Maybe it's from another life, or maybe there's something more at play here. But I know you—I feel like I always have."

His touch is gentle as he wipes away my tears, his eyes filled with a tenderness that takes my breath away. For a moment, the world fades away, leaving only the two of us standing together in the quiet intimacy of the moment.

And then, with a softness in his voice that sends shivers down my spine, he responds, his words carrying the weight of unspoken truths and hidden desires.

He gently suggests, "You should go back to sleep and rest. Let me take you to your room, love. We can continue this conversation when you're feeling better."

Feeling vulnerable, I murmur, my voice barely audible, "You think I'm crazy, don't you?"

He meets my gaze with unwavering sincerity. "I think many things about you, but questioning your sanity is not one of them."

With his reassurance echoing in my mind, he guides me back inside the house, his steady presence a source of comfort in the darkness. But as we reach the doorway to my room, I hesitate, a wave of unease washing over me at the thought of being alone.

"I don't want to go back to my room," I admit, the words tumbling out in a rush. The thought of being alone in the darkness fills me with an overwhelming sense of dread, and I cling to him, desperate for his presence to chase away the lingering shadows of fear.

He pauses, gently brushing the hair away from my face before speaking softly, "Would you prefer to stay in my room instead?"

"Can I?" I ask softly, my voice barely above a whisper, unsure if I'm crossing a boundary by accepting his invitation.

"Yes, you can," he replies with a tender smile, his voice a gentle caress that soothes my nerves. With a grateful nod, I acquiesce, allowing him to lead us both to his room.

His room is a sanctuary of simplicity and cleanliness, a haven of tranquility amidst the chaos of my thoughts. The soft hues and minimalist decor create an atmosphere of serenity, wrapping around me like a warm embrace.

As he guides me to the bed, his touch is tender and reassuring, his fingers lingering against my skin as he tucks the blankets around me with care. With delicate precision, he begins to play with my hair, each stroke sending shivers of pleasure down my spine.

His touch is intimate yet gentle, his fingers threading through the strands with a tenderness that speaks volumes. I close my eyes, losing myself in the sensation, allowing myself to be carried away by the warmth of his touch.

"I feel bad, it's your bed," I murmur softly, a pang of guilt tugging at my heart as I acknowledge the intrusion.

He chuckles softly, his breath warm against my skin as he leans in closer. "Don't worry about that, love," he murmurs huskily, his voice sending a shiver down my spine his lips brush against my cheek with a feather-light touch, eliciting a soft sigh of contentment as I close my eyes.

As I finally begin to drift into a peaceful slumber, cocooned in his embrace, I feel his lips press against my forehead in a gentle kiss. "Sleep well, my love," he whispers softly, his words a promise of comfort and security.

In the hazy borderland between wakefulness and sleep, I feel his lips tenderly brush against my forehead in a gentle kiss. catch the faint echo of his words something that sounds like how he’s going to fix everything whispered into the stillness of the night..

As I wake, I find myself enveloped in a sense of peace that has eluded me for far too long. There's no lingering fear, no remnants of the nightmares that used to haunt my sleep. It's been a year since I last woke in terror, a year since the darkness of my dreams consumed me

"You're awake," he says, his voice breaking through the fog of my thoughts.

I turn to him, the memories of what I said to him flooding back, and my smile fades as I blurt out, "I'm so sorry, Mattheo. Oh my God."

He sits beside me on the bed, his presence a comforting anchor in the storm of my emotions. "It's okay, love. It was just a nightmare. You were terrified, but it's just the fear talking. There's no need to apologize."

I take a deep breath, trying to calm the rapid beat of my heart. "I'm sorry," I whisper, feeling ashamed of my panicked reaction.

"Don't apologize, it’s okay “

"I must have scared you," I murmur.

He smiles, his eyes warm and understanding. "Believe me, it will take more than that to scare me."

I glance at the clock and realize how late it is. "Oh, God," I mutter again , feeling a surge of panic at the time.

"You looked so peaceful sleeping," he says softly, his words tinged with affection. "I didn't want to wake you up."

I want to tell him how grateful I am for his presence, how his calming influence eased the terror of my nightmare. "It's been a while since I slept like that," I admit quietly.

"I must go and get ready if I want to go to this party," I say, reluctantly tearing myself away from his comforting presence.

I rise from the bed, casting a shy glance towards him, my lips curving into a smile. "Thank you," I murmur softly, feeling the warmth of his nod and the softness of his smile drawing me in.

As I make my way back to my room, butterflies flutter in my stomach.

Relief floods over me as I reach my room, grateful that no one witnessed my departure from his room. Yet, as I settle in, anxiety grips me, threatening to overwhelm my senses. I try to distract myself, my thoughts wandering to someone with black hair and captivating eyes.

Closing the door behind me, I lean against it, closing my eyes and savoring the memory of his soft lips against my cheek. It's a fleeting moment of solace in the midst of my tumultuous emotions, a reminder of the undeniable connection that binds us together.

After a quick shower, I begin to prepare for the day ahead. Deciding on an off-shoulder, short red dress, I carefully slip it on, relishing in its vibrant hue. Sad started to put some makeup on couldn’t help but wonder what mattheo would thought about my look

I heard a knock on the door, and Sarah entered, concern etched on her face. She inquired if I was alright and mentioned that I had missed breakfast.

“ you sure you’re okay baby ? “

I smiled “ yes , never been better “

"You look amazing," she remarked with a smile.

I returned the compliment, "So are you. Green is definitely your color."

Sarah grinned, adjusting her emerald dress. "Thanks! I was a bit hesitant about it at first, but now I'm glad I chose it."

"It suits you perfectly," I assured her, admiring her confidence.

As we continued chatting, Sarah's presence brought a sense of ease to the room, and I felt grateful for her

“ I will be waiting for you downstairs “ I nodded with a smile

I frantically searched for my small bag before making my way to join the group. Suddenly, I heard it—a sound that chilled me to the core. It didn't sound like a dream; it was too real, too sinister.

Driven by an inexplicable force, I followed the sound, my heart pounding with fear. It led me to a door I hadn't noticed before. Hesitating only for a moment, I pushed it open, plunging into darkness so deep I could scarcely see my hand in front of my face.

And then, I saw them—three monstrous figures from my nightmares, lying in wait for me. Their eyes gleamed with malice as they fixated on me, sending shivers down my spine.

The pain and terror I thought I had escaped flooded back in an instant, threatening to overwhelm me. Among them was the source of my deepest nightmares, the embodiment of all my fears—my stepfather.

"You kept daddy waiting, princess," his voice echoed through the darkness, dripping with menace.

Paralyzed with fear, I could do nothing but stare at him, the realization sinking in that my nightmare was far from over.

Tag list:

@hereticdance

[noodyl-blasstal]

With no apology to Stephanie Meyer

Day 8 of @taznovembercelebration and I got "vampire AU" and "ignore" - obviously this was the only way to go, short and stupid. (Yesterday's is here)

--

“Ignore my teeth.”

“Your fangs, you mean?”

“They’re just teeth, Taako.”

“Oh, right, so you just hate all teeth and want everyone to ignore them, do you? Do you hate my teeth? I thought you said I was handsome!” Taako’s going to get his answer, whether he has to bully Kravitz into it by talking at him or not.

“This isn’t ignoring them.” Kravitz is covering his mouth with his hand in a valiant effort to prevent Taako from paying attention to the fact he’s apparently a fucking vampire.

“It seems prudent…” Taako muses. Not moving out of Kravitz’s lap. “... to ask about them.”

“I don’t think it seems necessary.” Taako wishes Kravitz would take his hands away from his face and put them back on Taako.

“You’ve got a lisp.” Taako giggles in delight at the ridiculousness of it all. He finally gets his hot neighbour into bed, or, well, onto couch, and he’s gained a lisp and some blood sucking powers.

“I haven’t got a lisp!” Lisped Kravitz.

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, just different to usual. It’s nice, still you, and I like you.” Taako moves his hands back to Kravitz’s chest. The sooner they talk about it, the sooner they can get back to what they were doing before.

“You should be afraid, not teasing me. I’m a monster, Taako.”

Taako leans backwards so far that he nearly falls to the ground laughing. Kravitz has to guide him back against his chest with one hand. He’s fairly sure there’s tears streaming down his face. “Oh, oh, shall I go google the word vampire very dramatically. Go on, tell me to hold tight.”

“Fuck off spider money.” Kravitz says. Then adds, tentatively, “you’ve never going to let me forget this are you?”

“Not… a… fucking chance.” Taako squeezes out between laughter. “Fuck me, do you glitter as well? Please tell me I’m going to be boning my own personal disco ball? That’d be rad as hell.”

“We don’t sparkle.” Kravitz is sullen, but not Cullen, thank the gods. The thought of anyone watching him sleep makes Taako feel itchy.

“So you are a vampire then?”

“No?” Asks Kravitz, lacking any ounce of conviction.

“Fuck, wait, is this why you won’t eat anything I bake for you? I thought you were playing hard to get!”

“And it worked?” Kravitz sounds baffled at the prospect, “surely you just thought it was rude?”

“I thought it meant you were interested.”

“I am.” Kravitz nods towards their relative positions to reinforce the point.

“In draining me dry?”

“Not of blood.”

Taako snorts out an extremely undignified laugh. “Hold up, are you using my fear of getting murdered to death to hit on me?”

“Is it working?”

“Kinda.” Kravitz was exceedingly hot, and Taako simply has to assume that vampire powers mean that he’s got super strength that they can use irresponsibly.

“It shouldn’t be. You should be worried.”

Taako draws his lips closed. He really shouldn’t start humming Claire de Lune right now, but the temptation is strong.

“You’re comparing this to Twilight again aren’t you?”

“This is the skin of a killer, Taako.” Taako says in the gruffest voice he can muster.

Kravitz thunks his head back onto the sofa in frustration. “I’m just trying to be sensible. You should probably be a bit worried.” He says to the ceiling.

Kravitz is probably right… Taako should probably ask more questions and not use the opportunity to kiss his way across Kravitz’s collar bone and up his neck, but, you know, he’s right there and he’s topless and Taako is only one human man with a normal amount of resolve.

“I mean, I want you to, like, give me a brief run down? But Taako’s gonna keep doing this while you reel off the headlines - that work for you?” Taako punctuates the question with kisses, spreading them across Kravitz’s chest.

“You doing that is not going to help with, you know, the whole concentration thing.”

“Then talk fast.” Taako grazes his teeth against Kravitz’s neck, delights in the way Kravitz involuntarily shifts his hips in response.

“I’m a vampire.”

“Wait, what?” Taako feigns surprise and looks wide eyed at Kravitz. “A vampire? In my house? I’m shocked! Surprised!”

“Taako!”

“Fiiiiiine.” Taako rolls his thumb across Kravitz’s nipple, relishes the surprised noise it pulls from him. “You were saying.”

“I’m a vampire.”

Taako sucks gently at Kraitz’s collar bone, open mouthed and gentle, laves his tongue across the skin there. “Mmhm.”

“Have been for a while.”

He shouldn’t… he really shouldn’t… “How long have you been seventeen?”

“Taako, please.”

“Yeah, no, okay, sorry, if you were seventeen this would not be happening, no matter how old you actually were. That one was bad.”

“Thank you.” Kravitz waits to see if Taako has any more interruptions planned. He does, but Kravitz doesn’t need to know what they are quite yet. “It’s been like 5…ish years?”

Taako noses against Kravitz’s neck. “Talk faster.”

“I don’t eat people, there’s a blood bank guy, and I promise I won’t kill you.”

“Good enough for Taako.”

“We’re doing this?”

Taako pulls Kravitz down into a kiss.”This isn’t contagious as long as we use protection, right?”

Kravitz looks at him like he’s finally lost it. “Are you suggesting tooth condoms?”

“Taako’s not not suggesting them.”

“I… you…”

Taako’s face must give him away.

“You’re not serious?”

“Nope! But you know what cha’boy is serious about?”

“I think there’s a strong chance I should be concerned about whatever you’re going to say.”

“Investigating the contents of these.” Taako dips his hand below the waistband of Kravitz’s trousers. It doesn’t seem like he’s in any danger and he’s been hitting on Kravitz for months, it’s time to get them back on track.

“Promise you’ll stop referencing Twilight?”

“And so the lion fell in love with the lamb.” Taako probably can’t push this much further, but also, how many opportunities is he going to get?

Kravitz snorts loudly. “Okay, that was the last one.”

“I’m glad I amuse you.” Maybe he won’t get that one, how closely did he study the source material?

“You’re the worst.” Kravitz says, and kisses him.

--

Check out tomorrow's prompt here.

[eviligo]

I need to hear about your complicated feelings on z I am so curious i know next to nothing about this woman

ok.

so like, first off: i am disgustingly, parasocially, insanely jealous of her. let me just get that out of the way. it is an irrational jealousy because i have zero chance of having any relationship with matt and i have no delusions otherwise. i’m 29 years old with a full time job and extensive therapy under my belt and i am FULLY aware that my infatuation with matt is at its worst borderline unhealthy. so let me just say all that up front, i am extremely self aware and if anyone reads this and wants to send me hate just know you’re not going to be telling me anything i don’t know

i do not HATE zeph, but i do not like her. my first exposure to her was the noob dude video like many other people but i know she had a career before matt. but i’m not kidding when i say that the SECOND i saw her in that video i knew they’d end up dating. call it a gut feeling. then the twitter interactions followed and i was convinced if not in denial. to be fair their interactions, and their platonic friendship, was cute. they’re both a little annoying and mentally ill and terminally online

plus, their interactions gifted me with this, which i will cherish forever

and she gave me this

which, again, i hold so near and dear to my heart. but i won’t get into why, i’m sure you can interpret it

but before they ever got together i would get recommended zeph’s tweets CONSTANTLY. all the time. and each one made me roll my eyes. i muted her long before we found out they were dating. she just annoyed the absolute shit out of me. she tried too hard to appeal to a certain crowd, you know what i mean, the twitter-brained depressed queer 20-something women/enbies. the type that make their entire personality a mitski song. but that’s ok, it’s just not for me but there’s an audience for it, whatever, she wasn’t hurting anybody. i phased her out of my timeline and got to pretend she didn’t exist for a while. it was fine.

that was really where it started. i found her really fucking annoying, and she was quickly becoming close with matt, and i was jealous.

when we found out they were dating, officially, through a stream matt did with jim and luke where he let it slip that he had a girlfriend (and we were pretty sure he and annabel had broken up at that point) of course it bothered me. i already didn’t like her. and i just kind of sat in that for a while. they weren’t exactly public with their relationship but she alluded to him constantly on her social media, both positively (talked about his big dick) and negatively

and then she posted an…instagram story? on her priv? i think. that or her one of her twitters. about how he wasn’t paying her enough attention while he was on tour, talking about how she texted him she missed him and he didn’t respond immediately but when he did he was short with her. and on another occasion she compared her bpd to owning a dog.

“Imagine you were about to get a dog, but then the dog was like "STOP: I have a million health problems and I will cost a lot at the vet. And I'll tear up all your furniture. And I'll still love you and be cute but I'll be really hard to take care of.” And then the person ignores all that and is like, "I got it," because the dog's just cute. So what I'm saying is that if I warn you from the beginning and you STILL hurt my feelings, I don't think that's a me problem anymore.”

this was within the first couple months of her relationship. and it is so, so manipulative. i can’t help but draw parallels to leighton with his bpd and lex with her mental health, and refusing to take accountability. plus, knowing what we know now, with the cheating, it really recontextualizes things. sheds some light.

like i said before, i don’t think a relationship built on a wobbly foundation of cheating and emotional manipulation will last. but on the other hand she stuck with him through the last three months, while she caught some strays too. you can’t undervalue the sort of bond that can forge. plus she gets 24/7 unrestricted access to him now, which satisfies her insecurities.

there’s other, more personal gripes. i have a problem when men trade in their girlfriends for a younger, slimmer model. i think matt falls too hard, too fast, and mistakes strong affection for love. he is not without his faults here. they both have their own shit and i think they could be a powder keg. i hate how she does her makeup and think she looks so much better without it, but i have an issue with makeup culture in general. again—this is more personal stuff.

i want to stress that i DO NOT advocate sending zeph hate, or prying into her personal life that she does not share online. she’s just a mentally ill 20-something living in california. whatever happens will happen

[brwnsugcr]

brwnsugcr  is  whipping  up  your  order  !

shi I wrote ( potential series ? )

movie date night. eremika. originally published: jan 16, 2016

The ending credits roll, but it escapes his notice. He's too busy staring at her.

They brought out the strawberries and chocolate and are sharing a bowl, using the chocolate syrup like cheese dip. Eren coats his strawberries completely in chocolate, while Mikasa takes dainty bites and dips, which to him is no fun at all. But he finds himself paying attention to every little thing she does. The way her cheeks puff out slightly, the way her pink lips shape around the fruit, the way she gives this little moan of delight that's so innocent and pure and -

"You're making a mess." A breathless laugh ends him. Actually ends him.

"But that's the point," he whines, smirk curving his lips.

"Now I have to wash my sheets when you leave."

Leaving. He doesn't like the sound of leaving. Not yet. He doesn't want this night to end. "You make it sound like a big deal."

"It is when I won't have anything to keep me warm."

Warm.

"It's warm, right?"

"You'll be warm," he says, using his hands for leverage to push himself out of her bed.

"Where are you going?"

Turquoise hues scan the room until they spot the object of desire, neatly folded atop her dresser. He goes to the other side of the bed, where she sits, and extends a hand.

She takes it. No hesitation.

Eren pulls her up effortlessly, and they're both walking across her bedroom, fingers subconsciously weaving together. His heart is racing, but it feels good. The adrenaline. The anticipation. The soft feel of her skin, like silk. He stops walking first, angling himself in front of her while still holding her hand.

"Why didn't you wear your scarf?"

"Because...I don't know. I thought it would've clashed or something." Her voice is soft, guilt-ridden when she answers him. She's not looking at him anymore, gaze downcast, wishing she had put the scarf on so she could duck her face and hide in the beloved cloth she always wore.

Eren lets go and she chews down on her bottom lip, hard enough to draw blood but the stream of scarlet never comes. She can't look at him. She - she can't.

But then her world is...red? The sudden change is enough to startle her out of her embarrassment, and she sees his eyes before her vision is blocked by red, red, and more red.

"There," he utters, fingers hovering over her cheeks, down to her shoulders. He never did get the hang of getting it right, but that only made this moment more special. He wrapped this same scarf around her the day they met. "That's better."

Mikasa's eyes gleam, an ever so subtle sign that tears are close to follow.

"It's warm, right?" he echoes himself from almost ten years ago.

He can tell she is smiling, even when the bottom half of her face is hidden from view.

"Yes," she breathes, voice muffled, and she pulls the scarf down. He sees teeth. Pearly white, shining teeth beaming up at him. "It's warm."

It's getting late, he knows. He should probably head home, as much as he'd rather stay all night with her. But her parents will be home soon and he's not allowed to be at her house after a certain time of the night. He doesn't want to overstep his boundaries, and he definitely doesn't want to be on bad terms with her father. Mr. Ackerman was always nice and patient, but Eren respects him.

"I should probably...get home." He begins to make his leave, taking a few steps back. Each step he takes away from her only makes the urge to stay stronger, and Mikasa pointedly following him because they both know that she doesn't want him to go either isn't exactly helping his struggle. "Wouldn't want to give your dad a heart attack."

"You've been in my room several times before," Mikasa protests, reaching for his hand again, and it's so natural how they just come together and walk down the steps, Eren leading the way with Mikasa right behind him, fingertips curved around to clutch the inner part of the other's hand.

"I know. I just don't wanna give another person a reason to be upset with me. I've already done enough this week," he grumbles. The cool, crisp night air hits his face first and he inhales deeply. There's something about the atmosphere after the sun goes down that he loves.

"Eren."

He's yanked lightly but he turns as if she had used all her strength, making a swift one-eighty spin to meet that steel gaze of hers. Their faces are closer this time.

"Yeah?"

[sammysdewysensitiveeyes]

"You see, in poker, as in business, the key to success is to determine your opponent's strength and, more importantly, his weaknesses. Everyone has a tell, a weakness of character that manifests itself physically."

“When it comes to Pierce, he tends to smooth back his hair when he has a good hand.  He’s a vain bastard, much like yourself, Allerdyce, and a scrawny blond one who isn’t nearly as handsome as he thinks he is.  You’ll be two peas in a pod.”

“And why are you sending me in, exactly?”  Pyro asked, ignoring the insult.  It was just par for the course from Sebastian.  “I’ve played some poker in my time, but I admit, I’m not exactly an expert.”

“Because you’re the only one of us that Pierce doesn’t know,” Shaw said.  “He’s familiar with the X-Men, he knows Emma and myself, naturally.  Christian and Shinobi will be suspect, due to their relationship to us.  But Pyro is a minor criminal beneath his notice – “

Pyro heaved a theatrical sigh, crossing his arms.     

“-and you’ve somehow managed to keep your real identity under wraps, despite your careless impulsivity and craving for attention.  Pierce will sniff out any one of us in civilian attire, even Bishop.  But he won’t suspect romance novelist St. John Allerdyce, especially now that you’ve lost that ridiculous tattoo.  And with the success of your most recent books, you’ll have a seat at the big boys table.”

“I’m not betting my own money,” Pyro said. 

“Fine.  I can respect your common sense in that regard.  But don’t expect to share in any of the spoils if you’re not willing to take any risk,” Sebastian responded. 

“I am taking a risk, though, aren’t I?  I don’t mix my mutant life and civilian life for good reason.  Don’t cross the streams and all that.  You’re putting me in the middle of mutant business as St. John Allerdyce, and if I get outed, my sales could tank.  People get ‘cancelled’ for much less.”

“I’ll tell you what, Allerdyce,” and Pyro did not notice the sharp gleam in Sebastian’s eye, “Let’s draw up a contract to mitigate those risks.  You can even have your lawyer friend Mr. Hamilton take a look at it before you sign anything.” 

The mission was a success, as far as Marauders missions went.  They got away with very valuable information about Reaver tech and Pierce’s latest schemes, as well as a handful of high-value poker chips and most of the rings off Pierce’s right hand, snatched respectively by Pyro and Shinobi.  The only casualty was the secret identity of St. John Allerdyce, aka Pyro, who was forced into publicly using his powers when violence inevitably broke out.

Pyro barely had time to rage at Sebastian before Emma was whisking him off for news interviews and talk show appearances where she told him exactly what to say and how to say it.  Pyro didn’t think Emma particularly liked him, and the feeling was mutual, but she took care of Kate’s crew, and that included him.  By the end of three weeks, Pryo would gladly call Emma his best friend, as the exposure of his secret life as a mutant terrorist had somehow been spun into increased book sales.  People yelled at him on Twitter, but they bought his bloody books all right, and Pyro was laughing all the way to the bank.

The laughing stopped when he realized that some of his money seemed to be disappearing, and he finally looked at the fine print of the contract he’d signed with Sebastian, which Stonewall had assured him was legit.  The contract had promised that Sebastian would pay damages if Pyro’s identity was exposed on the mission, leading to decreased book sales.

But it also promised Sebastian a cut of the profits if the opposite happened - if exposure of his identity lead to increased sales. 

“No risk, no reward, Allerdyce,” Sebastian practically sang when confronted.

Pyro was going to kill Louis.

(OOC: Louis Hamilton, aka Stonewall, Pyro’s old Freedom Force team-mate is a lawyer, although if that one issue with Freedom Force staging a fake trial is any indication, he might not be a very good one.)

[unbloomingmoonflower]

devourer of hearts [1]

So I oop and made an AU and now I wanna write a thing for it. Gonna has the OG Shuri x Esti ship, but Esti is playing the adventurer role this time. 

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The Forgotten Knight was far busier than usual. Civilians, knights, adventurers all intermingled where one could barely be distinguished from another. Ishgard had become far more welcoming when its gates were opened. 

It was a good thing, Estinien considered his musings while focused on his tankard, that it was becoming noticeably difficult to determine one’s status in Ishgard ever since he had returned to pay a visit to Aymeric. Ishgard had no need for the Azure Dragoon now that the threat of the horde was no more. 

He could wander as he wished and he was taking full advantage of that.

Sharp, blue eyes flickered throughout the tavern, his ears tickling at the mixture of hushed and slurred conversations in the air. One table nearby was a full party of adventurers, trying to huddle to be heard amongst themselves yet still speaking loudly enough to catch the Elezen’s attention.

“Can’t believe we found another one,” muttered the Midlander of the group. “A gapin’ hole right there, heart completely gone...bloody hell, I sure don’t want to risk my neck for this job.”

“We already took this job from Camp Dragonhead, Hethor,” the Dunesfolk Lalafell piped up, sounding resigned. “No wonder they seemed damned pleased to be rid of the responsibility. No one said the suspect was a Hearteater.”   

Hearteater. That word piqued Estinien’s interest and in spite of himself, he wanted to hear more of this party’s conversation.

The Hellsguard Roegadyn’s appeared to barely hold back the contempt in his voice. “Even with this job, that makes how many deaths now? Seems to me that these Hearteaters are a growing problem. Oi, Mae, haven’t old mates from Gridania told you something about them?” he barked to the Hyur, whose garb suggested she was the healer of the party and very likely hailing from Gridania. Estinien couldn’t restrain himself from hearing what she had to say. 

Under her comrades’ inquisitive stares, did the one called Mae stammer, “O-Only once. They found a body near the old Haukke Manor with the heart removed from the corpse too. I-I don’t know if they found others,  Zwynblaet.”

“Whatever the case,” the Roegadyn responded curtly, “we gotta tell them fools back at Dragonhead that we ain’t doing this job. If this thing finds us, who’s to say that it won’t rip our hearts out too.”

“I agree with Zwyn,” the one called Hethor added before he glanced at the Lalafellin companion. “What about you, Rurutomi?”

Rurutomi heaved a sigh. “Guess it’s all but decided, eh? We all aren’t dying to a Hearteater today or any other day.”

It seemed that conversation was what the group converged to have, for once the Lalafell gave his own assent, they rose from the table, chair legs scraping against the scuffed floor before leaving one by one, with Hethor paying the barkeep for the drinks. 

This made for quite an interesting evening. Estinien took a long draw of his ale, brows knitted as he considered what he had just heard. “Hearteaters, eh...” he murmured against the rim of his tankard before setting it down. If these rumored creatures were suddenly becoming an epidemic across the realm, with bodies cropping up, then the creatures clearly had no qualms about keeping their habits hidden. Even so, it appeared from what those adventurers spoke of, is that one had yet to be captured and killed. 

Were these Hearteaters some sort of voidsent? The void has long since produced a steady stream of creatures, yet not one was documented with such a moniker as this one. It made the Elezen curious enough. 

Estinien was in need of a new adventure. Finding one of these creatures may be the start.

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

The heart was a delicate thing. 

Mismatched irises fixated on the recent acquisition held in her bloodied hand, the body of an Elezen male at her feet. The scent of his heart had been irresistible and finding him wandering alone near the Behemoth’s dominion was just a moment of opportunity. His blood stained the snow beneath him after she had ripped his heart out, her fingers slick with the iron-scented liquid. 

Her claws dug into the slick organ, crushing it as she brought it to her lips. Her tongue darted out, catching the droplets of blood. Her countenance twisted in disgust as she dropped the organ, watching it dent into the snow. 

“Such an impure heart,” she breathed in disappointment, as she stepped over her victim to disappear into the howling winter winds--leaving only the corpse as a trace of her presence.  

[jasminewilson143]

A Manual for Getting Ladies

However long there are ladies on this planet, there will be conversation starters. Terrible conversation starters which don't chip away at ladies, however affront them. A wide range of men read about these conversation starters and expect that with their freshly discovered Sentiment Scams known intelligence they will be powerful to the other gender, however in fact, these lines simply repulse the ladies which these men are attempting to draw in.

 A manual for getting ladies.

 One explanation conversation starters don't work is on the grounds that they are not normal.

 A lady's initial feelings is the main part of moving toward ladies. On the off chance that you don't make the most of it, then nothing will occur for you. Conversation starters are see through, and however much sites and different assets let you know that these kind of approaches work, the truth is that they don't. Any lady you approach with such lines will immediately  Advantages of Online Dating know what your expectation is, and in light of the fact that it will not appear to be normal, she won't be available to your methodology. You are undeniably bound to be dismissed in the event that you utilize these lines, and frankly, I don't think I have known about conversation starters working for anybody.

 Cause your way to deal with appear to be relaxed and spontaneous.

 In view of these self-declared specialists which guarantee to know 'each confidential to all lady', men over-entangle what is really expected to move toward a lady, consider it such a lot of that they alarm themselves, and afterward choose not to move toward the lady by any means.

 You should simply begin a discussion with a lady. That is all there is to it. You don't need to research conversation starters and search until you find one you have never heard. You don't need to lie and design a persona to get a lady's number. You should simply start a discussion. Amolatina News.com Along these lines, it's absolutely impossible that your methodology will appear transparent, in light of the fact that all you are doing is conversing with her.

 It just takes one sentence to begin a discussion.

 The main other thing to recollect while moving toward a lady is to pay attention to her. At the point when she says something, pay attention to what she says, and answer fittingly. By doing this, the discussion won't stream normally and will ever become lifeless. By focusing, you make ready for additional subjects to discuss, and at last, the opportunity to additionally associate with said lady.

 That is all there is to it. A manual for getting ladies. I realize that it will sound basic from the outset, yet that is the least demanding method for moving toward a lady. A characteristic, unconstrained discussion. From that point you can ask her for her number and take it from that point. It truly is totally dependent upon you.

[seijorhi]

To the Wolves

my (first) entry for the Deal With the Devil collab, because i couldn’t resist writing for Yakuza Getou <33

Getou Suguru x Female Reader

TW Extremely dubious consent, coercion, manipulation, threats, implied murder, smut, nsfw

“No. I- I won’t.”

Sitting comfortably on the old, worn couch in your cramped little apartment, Getou raises a single eyebrow, “Oh? Is that so?”

His voice is perfectly pleasant, the smile on his face a touch amused, but you’re not so naive as to believe that the question is anything but a generous offer for you to rethink your reply. A smart person would take it – since the day you’d first arrived home to find him waiting for you, Getou hadn’t so much as laid a finger on you. He had no need for guns or knives, never shouted or bullied you, his reputation more than enough to cow you into submission before he’d even opened his mouth.

Of course, once he had, the simple threats to your friends and family’s lives had made certain that you were more than amenable to his request.

A mutually beneficial arrangement, he’d called it, as if there hadn’t been tears silently streaming down your face, your whole body stiff with fear. 

But that was the world he came from. Violence and ruthlessness, cruelty masquerading as kindness.

By all accounts, someone like you – a lowly admin assistant living a very boring, mundane life – should never have crossed paths with a man like Getou. The irony, of course, being that it was precisely because of your job that he’d been drawn to you in the first place. 

“I-I said no,” you stammer. “I’m not doing it.”

Getou sighs, long, pale fingers idly fixing the cuff of his left sleeve. “I had no idea the lives of your loved ones meant so little to you.”  

“Please, I-” you break off, biting your lip as your hands curl into useless fists at your side, “I can’t. Anything else, I’ll do anything, I swear it, just… please.”

Men like Getou aren’t the type to be swayed by pretty words or tearful pleas, but there’s an unmistakable glimmer of interest that flickers in his eyes at the offer. Casually, he leans forward, resting his chin on the palm of his hand and regarding you with a smirk. “So you’ll bring me the list of witnesses then?”

The barely audible hitch in your breath is enough to make him chuckle.

“No? How about those surveillance tapes, hm?” Smoothly, he rises to his feet and makes his way towards you. “Careful, little one, first rule of negotiation is knowing when you have something to bargain with. Don’t promise me what you can’t give.”

“Getou–”

He raises a hand and you quickly fall silent. There’s only inches between you two now, Getou’s taller, broader frame looming over yours. He could kill you like this, you realise with panic – reach out and wrap his hands around your throat and snap your pretty little neck before you could so much as scream. The tailored line of his jacket hides the gun he has holstered at his side, but Getou knows you're aware of its presence, have been since the very first time he’d broken into your home and threatened you. 

It’d take him only moments to draw the sidearm, even less for him to pull the trigger.

The walls of your apartment are thin, would your neighbours come if they heard gunfire? Would you, for that matter, if your roles were reversed?

Yet Getou makes no move for his gun, instead reaching for your chin, tilting it up with two curled fingers until you meet his gaze, “You understand, don’t you, that I make one phone call and that charming sister of yours and her fiance meet a very tragic, very untimely end?”

He pauses, waiting until you jerk a quick nod of assent before continuing. “You love them. There’s nothing wrong with that, nothing wrong with prioritising the ones you love over everybody else.” His voice is gentle, but the words make you shake, dread rising from the pit of your stomach as the pad of his thumb grazes over your bottom lip. 

You don’t know if you’re supposed to say something to that, but even as you try, you can’t summon the words. The by now familiar scent of his cologne tickles your nose and invades your throat, the warmth of his touch burning through your veins. Your own heart hammers like a drumbeat in your chest, every cell in your body screaming danger, but you don’t run, you don’t even flinch.

Getou smiles kindly, and perhaps if you hadn’t seen first hand the aftermath of his handiwork you might be tempted to believe it. His spare hand reaches into his jacket, but instead of the gun you’re expecting, he pulls out his phone, the screen flickering to life with a swipe of his finger. “So tell me, before I make a call you and I both know you don’t want me to make, why you’ve suddenly decided that their lives aren’t worth your compliance?”

Nanami. Your boss’s face flashes to your mind, the odd, fleeting glances he’d sent your way over the past few weeks when he’d thought you weren’t paying attention. Your stomach erupts with butterflies, your cheeks unwittingly warming, but you just shake your head, “If I give you those files, you’ll kill them. You’ll hurt them.”

“Maybe,” he hums, “maybe not. It’s no less than those monkeys deserve, don’t you think?” He spits the word like it’s venom, the twitch in his jaw the only chink in his otherwise effortless composure. “You’re protecting them, even now.”

You make no attempt to defend yourself, terrified of saying the wrong thing and setting him off, but Getou seems entirely unfazed, laughing coldly at your stricken expression.

“Your boss, the one with the perpetual stick up his ass; Nanami,” potent disdain drips from his tone at the name, “Always so morally righteous, sitting up on his high horse. You think he cares for you, that he’ll protect you when all of this comes out? And it will come out eventually,” he says, his smirk widening at the sudden pallor in your face. “At some point there’ll be one too many unfortunate coincidences, and the higher ups will realise that they have a mole in their ranks. Fingers will be pointed of course, but eventually even those idiots will figure it out.”

A knot tightens inside of your chest at his words, constricting until it feels like you can’t breathe. You’re shaking your head, eyes filling with tears, “N-no–”

“Oh, little one,” Getou murmurs, dark eyes drinking in every ounce of your distress. “Surely you realised that they have security cameras covering every inch of your floor? There was no reason to look before, but once they do…” he trails off, letting go of your chin in favour of brushing the back of his knuckles along your cheek. “They’ll throw you to the wolves.”

His voice is soft and cruel, belied by the gentleness of his touch, but it does nothing to quell the rising sense of dread inside of you. You want to believe it’s a lie, another threat meant to scare you into submission, but some deeper part of you recognises the truth in his words. 

Nanami, who’d told you once that there was innocence and there was guilt and very little in between. Nanami, whose office you’d bugged, whose trial only weeks ago you’d all but derailed with a few misplaced documents. You think back to the late nights shared in his office, bowls of ramen and case files scattered across the desk between you. You think of the rare smiles, his oddly dry sense of humour, the pleasant fluttering in your heart–

“You’ll rot in prison long before I do, and there is not a soul among that insipid bunch that would lift a finger to stop that from happening to you.” 

A soft, strangled noise leaves your lips as you fight not to sob, and Getou sighs, the corners of his lips twitching downwards in contrived sympathy. “Say the word and I’ll walk away tonight. I’ll still have to kill your sister – I am a man of my word, you understand – but I promise it’ll be the last you see of me.”

He slides his phone back into the breast pocket of his jacket, taking your face in both of his hands as tears spill down long lashes. “And when they come for you, you can tell them I threatened you, show them what little proof you have – if you have any at all. Maybe it’ll even make a difference,” he says. “But I doubt it.”

Every word is like a knife, slicing away at the raw, bleeding, vulnerable parts of you.

“Please…” It’s weak and desperate, your voice cracked and broken. You don’t even know what you’re begging for anymore; your sister’s life, for Getou’s mercy, or maybe just for him to stop saying such awful things. He must take pity on you though, because he sighs once more, his right thumb sweeping across your wet cheek to brush away silvery tear tracks. 

“I’m not a complete monster, you know. I protect what’s mine.”

And in one breath, everything screeches to a standstill and a trickle of very real fear creeps down your spine. There’s no mistaking his implication, not when he’s holding your face like that, his eyes dark and simmering with an intensity that makes your stomach flip.

“W-what?”

Getou closes the gap between you two, a startled noise leaving your lips as his hips press flush up against you. “Don’t play stupid, sweet thing,” he murmurs, and it sounds like a warning, “It doesn’t suit you.”

One hand slips to your neck, the other curling almost possessively around your waist. There’s no room for you to move, to back away or free yourself. For a moment, neither of you speak, the heavy silence deafening between you.

Does he notice the way your pulse races under his fingertips as they circle your throat, how you’re shaking like a leaf beneath him? Does he want you afraid? A scared little bunny rabbit cowering from the gaping maw of the big, bad wolf? 

Judging from the bulge of his semi-hard cock pressing into the soft flesh of your belly, he’s not entirely unaffected, and for the first time it’s not Getou’s gun or his threats that you’re most afraid of. 

It’s the selfish, twisted want that glitters and glints in those pitiless depths. You’ve never felt so entirely at somebody else’s mercy as you do with Getou now, staring you down like he wants to lay you bare, claim you again and again for all the world to see. And you don’t understand. There’s a thousand and one questions running through your mind, your insides twisted up into knots. 

You know what it is he’s asking of you – though asking feels like a generous word when he can so easily just take – but none of this makes sense, not when he was threatening your family’s lives only minutes ago. 

As if he can sense the turmoil and confusion raging through you, he leans down, his lips ghosting over the outer shell of your ear. “Tell me to stop, and I’ll walk away right now.”

I am a man of my word. 

His earlier statement rings through your head as you search his face for any sign of deception – you find none. But walking away means your sister dies. It means you’re left on your own to fend off the wolves when they find out what you’ve done.

Nanami might believe you. He might even defend you, but you’ve worked in the Prosecutor’s office long enough to know that duress isn’t the bulletproof defence people think it is, and for tangling with the likes of him…

You were screwed the moment he showed up in your living room, this- this is just the coup de grâce. The final damnation.

“Why me?” 

Getou doesn’t answer, but when he draws you into a kiss, his lips moving torturously slow against yours, there’s an edge of… something there, lying hidden just beneath the surface. And it terrifies you, more than his words and his promises ever could.

But when your back’s to the wall, what choice do you really have?

It feels like defeat when he takes you by the hand and leads you into your bedroom, ignoring the uncertain glance you cast over your shoulder towards the living room. You don’t want any of this, but you can pretend that it’s just… business if he fucks you out there.

Not in the bed you sleep in.

It’d be easier, you think, if it was cold and impersonal. If you cried and it stung and the only sounds in the room were flesh hitting flesh, ragged breathing and an occasional rough grunt.

There’s nothing impersonal about the way he watches you strip out of your clothes at his command. His own join yours on the floor without much ceremony – his gun pointedly set just within reach atop your nightstand.

The first time you’d laid eyes on Getou Suguru, it was two months into your new job; a photograph pinned to a thick, heavy file Nanami had dropped on your desk. A surveillance picture, you’d gathered, snapped as the man was exiting some neon lit club downtown. And you remembered the smug smirk he’d had, staring directly down the lens of the camera like it was a challenge, but that wasn’t what had struck you most.

It was the flutter of interest that’d shot through your veins the moment before common sense kicked in. Tall and fit, with long, dark hair swept up in the wind, a sharp jaw and a handsome face, you remember thinking he was probably the most attractive man you’d ever seen.

Now, standing naked before you, bright, colourful tattoos inked across his torso, accentuating the muscles that rise and fall with every measured breath, you can’t bear to look. It’s easier just to stare at the wooden floorboards, the corner of the shagged rug you’d bought at a thrift store when you first moved in. Easier to pretend Getou isn’t pulling you closer once more, pressing searing, open mouthed kisses along your neck, murmuring words that are lost to you entirely as his hands wander. You can feel it now, the heat of his body as he cages you in, his cock, thick and heavy and flushed nudging insistently up against your stomach.

You expect him to shove you to your knees, to force his cock down your throat in some archaic show of dominance before he claims your cunt, but he doesn’t. 

“I want you to touch yourself for me,” he whispers into your ear, teeth catching lightly on the sensitive lobe as you shiver. “Like you do when I’m not here, those pretty legs spread, fucking yourself on your fingers…”

The comment feels too familiar to be entirely offhanded, striking a chord of panic somewhere deep inside of you–

But it doesn’t make a difference. It doesn’t matter now.

You allow him to kiss you again before climbing onto the mattress. Like a good girl, you fall back onto the pillows, let your legs ease apart, wrapping your lips around two fingers and sucking for a brief moment before gliding your hand down between your thighs. 

His breath hitches, a soft curse sounding when saliva slicked digits spread your folds, the tip of your middle finger brushing lightly against your clit as you stroke your pussy. Your nipples harden and peak under the cool night air and you use your free hand to palm at your breast, pinching and teasing at the sensitive bud while one finger slips into the warmth of your cunt. 

The mattress dips, Getou climbing onto the bed, settling himself back on his knees, your spread legs either side of him.

“Beautiful,” he breathes. 

Your heart stutters, movements jerking as you brace for him to interfere, to touch you, but aside from nudging your thighs further apart to get a better view of your glistening cunt, he seems content simply to sit back and watch, his own hand lazily stroking at his cock.

Trying in vain to block him out, you squeeze your eyes shut and focus on the way your fingers feel between your legs, the pleasure–

 (Not the shame, don’t think about that, don’t think about Getou watching you debase yourself for his enjoyment)

–that pools in your core as you rub the shining pearl of your clit. It’s a familiar dance, a routine you’d normally help along with a glass of wine and a few faithful toys, but you don’t exactly have that luxury here.

And even with the rigid tension in your shoulders, the unwanted presence of a man you’re terrified of impossible to ignore, you can’t help the quiet moan that slips past your lips, the way your hips stutter, grinding against the heel of your palm as your fingers hit that sweet, delightful spot inside of you. 

Getou tenses at the sound, the last, fragile thread of his composure snapping–

He strikes fast. One moment you’re biting down on your bottom lip, your index and middle fingers knuckle deep in your dripping pussy, the next he’s braced atop you, one hand locked around your wrist, the other propping himself up. And as your eyes fly open with a startled cry, his lips crash against your once more – desperate and ravenous, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth to taste you.

And you don’t fight it when he pulls your hand from your pussy and drags it to his crotch, his fingers entwining with yours as he wraps them around his heavy, throbbing cock and moans. It’s humiliating, the way he thrusts into your hand, tightening his grip so you’re forced to feel every shivery twitch of his dick while he sucks eagerly on your tongue.

This is the choice you’d made, the deal you struck. It’s too late to back out now, and even if you tried to… 

“I want you,” he pants, his lips glistening with saliva, an almost manic look in those dark, pretty eyes, “to ride me.”

… you’re not so sure Getou would let you.

So you allow yourself to be manhandled, lifted and situated across his lap like a doll. Hands braced on his tattooed chest, you lift your hips just enough for him to guide his cock to your slick entrance before slowly sinking down onto his length.

Every inch hurts. 

It doesn’t make it any less painful, the way Getou soothes you, his thumbs stroking gently at your waist as you whine and mewl, feeling every ridge and vein of his cock as he stuffs you full.

“Fuck– good girl, taking me so well,” he purrs.

You’re not sure if it’s shame, pleasure, or some sense of twisted pride at the praise that has your pussy clenching, fire racing through your veins when Getou experimentally rocks his hips upwards. And if your cheeks weren’t already burning, the lewd moan that escapes you when the head of his cock hits your g-spot would certainly do the trick. 

Ever observant, he wastes no time capitalising on your slip, lifting you up just to drive you back down onto his length at the perfect angle. You shudder around him, keening out a cry that has him groaning in pleasure.

There’s no illusion of control here between you two.

You might be the one on top, but Getou’s grip’s too tight, guiding every roll of your hips against his, his own rising in time to fuck his cock deeper into your warm, velvety cunt. And somewhere distantly you recognise that this could be a thousand times worse. How easily he could change the narrative in a heartbeat, flip you over, force your face into the pillows and fuck you like a dog until you’re gasping for air. He could use you, hurt you, probably kill you without ever needing to touch the gun he’d left on your nightstand – and you wouldn’t have a hope in hell of stopping him.

But he doesn’t. Lying back against your pillows, dark hair falling from his half up-do, cheeks flushed from exertion, Getou’s attention is wholly fixed on you - on your face, eyes screwed shut, bottom lip caught between your teeth as he hits somewhere deep inside of you that has you seeing stars, on your tits, the way they bounce every time you sink back down onto his cock.

His eyes are hooded, dark and intense, searching for every hint of pleasure he’s drawn from you. You gasp his name, fingers digging into his chest, your cunt fluttering so deliciously around him – and he loses that last little bit of his self control. 

He jerks upright, one arm wrapping around your waist to anchor you to him as he braces himself with the other, and before you can so much as gasp his mouth is at your tits, hot tongue laving at soft, supple skin there.

“Suguru,” he growls, hips snapping feverishly against yours. 

“Suguru,” you parrot, head lolling back as heat coils tighter in your core. 

You’ll worry about the consequences later, when he pulls you boneless and sated into his arms and you feel his heart thumping at your back as he kisses you and tells you to sleep. When tomorrow you arrive at work and Nanami stares a beat too long as the love bites scattered across your throat, no doubt wondering why you won’t so much as look at him.

For now, you settle for pulling him closer, gasping as you chase that quaking, blissful end.

[arhvste]

❝ waking up with the haikyuu boys ❞

ft : oikawa tooru, kuroo tetsurō, kozume kenma, miya osamu and sakusa kiyoomi

OIKAWA TOORU

-> he wakes up earlier than you

-> he won’t wake you though

-> he’ll just close his eyes and peep every so often waiting for you to stir awake

-> the second your eyes crack open he quickly screws his shut with a small smile tugging at his lips

-> before you even open your mouth to yawn he springs up

-> “aw how cute! you were watching me sleep!”

-> you’re all : ???

-> you’re hardly even awake yourself and now your boyfriends accusing you of stalking him in his sleep just because you were facing his way

-> LOL okay oikawa :|

-> after you’ve rolled your eyes at him, he’ll pull you back down into the covers with him

-> he know you have to get up soon but he just wants a few moments of infancy between the two of you

-> affectionately strokes your cheek and murmurs how much he loves you and how happy he is you’re his

-> “i love waking up to your face every morning angel”

-> “oh really? because seconds ago you were accusing me of staring at you while you were sleeping >:(“

-> he’ll laugh and deny your childish claims and pull you in close

-> quick kisses to your nose and he’ll be ready to let you go and get ready for the day

KUROO TETSURŌ

-> wakes up at the same time as you

-> you’re both just matched in sleeping schedules so that works out well

-> he’s always close to you when you sleep so he’ll always be in arms reach for when you stir awake

-> and because you’re waking up at around the same time his arms are automatically looks for you until you’re back in them

-> “morning baby”

-> he always has thick sleep in his morning voice

-> you won’t always reply straight away but rather nod your head in acknowledgment or just grunt at him

-> his arms are already wrapped around your body letting you steal heat from his naturally warm body

-> he goes to kiss you and this is where you humble him

-> “your breath is so bad, go away”

-> he’ll be so offended even though you’re just saying that to annoy him

-> “it’s not. i clean my teeth throughly every single night before i sleep and i use that mouthwash too!”

-> you’ll laugh and tell him you were joking but he’ll be annoying and deny you

-> “looks like you have stay here longer to make it up to me.”

KOZUME KENMA

-> you wake up before him

-> long hours of streaming take a toll on him when he eventually crawls into bed the night before

-> you don’t stare at him but you will brush the hair out of his face a press a warm kiss to his cheek before turning to get up yourself

-> then you feel a small tug in your wrist stopping you from crawling off the bed

-> “mhhh ay”

-> “what was that?”

-> “m stay”

-> and who are you to deny your precious boyfriend :(

-> he’ll pull you in and take your body heat

-> “is this why you wanted me to stay? so you wouldn’t be cold?”

-> “i pay our bills for central heating, you pay through body heat, it’s fair”

-> you’ll just roll your eyes and let him cling onto you a little longer

-> while he’s wrapped up close to you, his fingers draw little circles on your back as his soft snores begin to fall back into place

-> you sigh and stroke his cheek further tempting him back into sleep

-> and before you know it, he’s back to the soft snores and light breathing he has when he sleeps

-> you won’t be getting up until at least 11AM

MIYA OSAMU

-> he’s a morning person

-> he’s already up by the time you just about wake up

-> and of course he’s in the kitchen making you breakfast

-> and you know this because the tempting smells are wafting through the house

-> you don’t need to get up though because he’ll bring it up to you

-> it’s an unspoken law the two of you eat breakfast in bed together every saturday

-> minutes after you wake up he’ll be arriving through the bedroom door, tray in hand

-> “good mornin princess”

-> he’ll set the tray down and lean down to give you a quick kiss, the taste of his morning coffee still lingering

-> he’ll then pick the tray back up again before handing you your food and crawling back into bed by your side again

-> the two of you will chatter between the two of you while eating

-> you’ve basically won

-> you have a boyfriend that cooks restaurant level food for you and brings it up to you

-> after you’re done, he’ll take the tray over to the dresser across the room before crawling back into bed with you

-> you’ll stay there in his arms for a good 30 minutes because he wants his attention from you in repayment for breakfast

-> and you’re more than willing to give it to him

SAKUSA KIYOOMI

-> another morning person

-> he’s already returning from his morning run by the time you wake up

-> he will shower before greeting you properly though

-> you don’t deserve to be close to him whist he’s drenched in sweat

-> your shared bed is a sacred place and a sacred place it will stay

-> that means no sweat allowed >:(

-> unless it’s sweat from activities in the bed

-> after he’s showered and thrown a new white cotton t shirt on, he’ll get back into bed for you to cling to

-> honestly he just wants affection but he just won’t outrightly ask

-> give your boyfie attention :,)

-> “good morning pretty one”

-> “good morning kiyoomi”

-> he’ll never tell you, but hearing his name roll off your tongue first thing in the morning sends butterflies off inside him

-> he’ll just wanna wrap his arms around you and keep you like that for a while

-> especially loves when you bury your face into the crook of his neck and press soft kisses along his neck and jaw

-> again, he’ll never tell you that though

-> gently rubs your back coaxing you to relax in his hold

-> soft murmers of “i love you” shared between the two of you before you fall back asleep in his arms

-> that’s okay though because kiyoomi will also fall back into sleep for a little while

-> you have all day after all

general taglist → @atsumuwoah @bloody-bella @bbymilkbread @miracleboy420 @doggonudez @tsumue @peteunderoos @tsukkisbean @saturnfarie @dear-kozume @zumisace @boosyboo9206 @totorosleaff @27kei @dai-tsukki-desu @angrylittleriri @dearestmegumi @kuxredere @warakou @iss6s @lovinnoya @sophiashortcake @wompwomphq @waitforitillwritemywayout @webworld @brokeasshoee @sunasbabie @rowley-with-ackerman

ALL CONTENT BELONGS TO @KUROOSKULT ON TUMBLR 2020 PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, CHANGE OR PLAGIARISE

[itsthewritergal]

I need to know you’re safe - D.M x Weasley!Reader (Odd One Out)

PART   1    2    3    4    5    6    7 

I can’t believe we’re so far in already!! I hope everyone enjoys this part :) Let me know xx 

The Quidditch world cup was a spectacle to say the least. Y/N was secretly pleased that Harry, Hermione and Cedric would be joining them. She knew that Draco would be there, but it comforted her to know that she wouldn’t be alone in facing him. Draco had written Y/N letters over the summer, apologising for his behaviour, he had even sent one to Hagrid apologising; which resulted in Y/N getting a stream of letters from Hagrid stating how sorry Draco was. Y/N knew that Draco felt bad but it didn’t excuse his behaviour, especially with something he knew Y/N was so upset about.

“Whatcha thinking bout?” Cedric asked,

“nothing important” Y/N replied as they walked past the rows of tents,

“So definitely not about that Slytherin Boyfriend of yours?” Cedric teased

“He’s not my boyfriend” She said

“But you are thinking about him?” He smirked, Y/N rolled her eyes. Wishing that she wasn’t so easy to be read by Cedric.

“He’s been writing to me all summer” Y/N explained

“Saying what?” Cedric asked her gently.

“He said he was sorry” She said “Quite a few times actually” Y/N chuckled slightly, Draco was never known for apologising

“Well I didn’t expect that” Cedric said, he slung his arm over her shoulders “You know what I think?” He started “I know you’re about to tell me” Y/n mused

“I think he likes you, but he’s been so used to putting on this mean slytherin facade that the moment you showed up, you scared him”

“I scared him?” Y/N repeated with a laugh. The thought itself was ridiculous to her, Draco would never be scared of her.

“In a good way, like in a I’m so in love she can break my heart way”

“You really think that?” she said, there was a small part of her which wished that it were true, but that had been buried deep down under the voice that told her she was being ridiculous to think he could fall in love with her

“I know he’s in love with you. All you have to do is look at him when you walk in a room” Cedric said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. But Y/N couldn’t see it, thinking back to all the times she had spent with Draco he just acted as though they were friends; just how he acted with Blaise and Pansy. Except he was a little more protective of Y/N and he always had to have his arm around her but that was just because they were friends. Shaking her head and letting out a laugh to mask her confusion

“You’re wrong Cedric. We’re just friends” She said

“Right, and I’m dumbledore” He mused, “You’ll see” He said

— — — — — — —

“Weasley” Lucius Malfoy’s voice cut through the stands,

“Malfoy” Arthur said plastering a fake smile across his face “How are you?” “We’re doing well aren’t we Draco?” Lucius said lifting his cane and tapping Draco on the stomach, he winced a little, Y/N caught the way his hand lingered over his middle as if he was already hurt

“Yes we are doing well” Draco nodded, his eyes never once leaving Y/N’s

“Well I hope you enjoy the match” Arthur said

“Oh we will,” Lucius smirked “We’re sitting in the ministers box you know! Invitation of Fudge himself” He added

“Lucius, no need to boast” Narcissa cut him off

“We should go” Y/N said to her father, hoping to cut the hostile conversation  short

“Yes you wouldn’t want to miss the match, although from where you are sitting I doubt you’ll be able to see a thing” Lucius said with a laugh, Draco barely cracked a smile

“Y/N” He said “I’ll see you on the train Draco” Y/N replied, a ghost of a smile crossing over her face “Bloody morons” Ron muttered as they began climbing yet another metal staircase

“He’s a git” Fred chimed in

“The whole family are gits” George added

“Draco didn’t seem too bad today” Ginny said, “Perhaps he’s changing” She said hopefully

“Draco’s never been like his family. You all just don’t want to see it” Y/N snapped,

“That’s rich coming from the girl who won’t answer his letters” Fred said with a laugh

“Shove off” Y/N fired back

— — — — — —

“Draco? What are you doing here?” Arthur asked, ushering Draco into their tent

“I should have said something before” He said quickly

“Before what?” Amos questioned, drawing the attention of the rest of the Weasleys, Cedric, Harry and Hermione

“There’s something happening tonight. Something about You Know Who, you didn’t hear this from me. I could get killed if anyone finds out I told you” He said hurriedly, his eyes locked on Y/N “I need to know you’re safe. I need to know you’re all safe” He said

“I don’t understand” Arthur said “How do you know all this?”

“I heard my father, please we don’t have time for questions. You need to get out of here” He said,

“He’s right” Fred said pocking his head out the tent, “There’s tents being lit on fire over there” He said hurriedly

“Right” Amos said with a nod

“Harry, Hermione, Ron stay together” Arthur instructed “Cedric, Fred George you must look after Y/N and Ginny. Draco stay with them too, you can come back to ours. I’ll tell your parents we found you on your own when we were getting to the portkey” Draco nodded gratefully.

Fred grasped Ginny’s hand and George grabbed Y/N’s.

“Thanks” George said quietly before they left the tent.

Y/N was dragged out of the tent sandwiched between George and Draco. Smoke billowed up into the sky, flames licked around the tents hungrily. Y/N tripped on a tent pole, Fred, George, Ginny, Draco were swept away with the rest of the crowd. Y/N shouted for Draco but there was no reply. Her ankle was burning in pain, nevertheless she picked herself and began to run towards where she thought the portkey was. Cursing herself for not paying more attention to her surroundings.

“Y/N!” Draco’s voice cut through the crowd

“Draco?” She called, her eyes scanning the crowd hoping that she’d catch sight of Draco somewhere but she had no kind of luck.

“Y/N” The voice called again,

Y/N continued running. Her ankle threatening to give out with every step, she knew she had to keep running. Slowing down for a split second Y/N tensed as a hand wrapped around her wrist. She screamed an attempted to throw off her attacker

“It’s me darling, it’s only me” Draco said gently engulfing her in a hug. Y/N calmed down instantly as the smell of his cologne filled her head. “We need to get to the portkey” he said, she nodded and began hobbling after him, Draco slowed for a moment once he realised how badly Y/N was running “You’re hurt?” He asked

“It’s fine, we need to keep going” She said

“You sure?” He asked, she nodded. Fearful that if she responded with words then she might start crying. Draco gave her a wary look before taking her hand and running again with her.

— — — — —

“Y/N!” Cedric beamed once her and Draco appeared on the other side of the portkey

“What happened?” Ginny asked running up to her

“I tripped, hurt my ankle then got lost. Draco helped me” She said

“Come on, let me have a look at your ankle” Draco said gently, scooping Y/N up so that she didn’t have to walk towards the Burrow. Y/N started to protest for Draco not letting her walk but he shushed her quickly.

“Y/N? What happened?” Molly asked

“She tripped over, I think she may have hurt her ankle, Could I sit her on the sofa?” Draco said.

“Of course” Molly said,

Y/N sat where Draco placed her, he held her ankle in his hand. It was bruising swiftly, the once clear skin was now mottled with purple patches.

“It looks like it’s broken to me” Draco said

“You aren’t a healer” Molly said in a tone much harsher than both Draco and Y/N were expecting

“I know I’m not, but I’m a quidditch player and I know what broken bones look like” Draco said

“Thank you for your help but I think we’ve got this” Arthur said

“You better be getting home then” Molly added

“You’re right, I’ve overstayed my welcome” Draco said with a curt nod to Molly, “I’ll see you soon” he said to Y/N gently,

“You are always welcome here” Arthur said “Why don’t you stay for dinner?” Draco paused but after seeing Molly’s scowling face “I better get home” “Would you like me to come and explain things to your father?” Arthur asked “Better if I do it myself. You know what he can get like”

Taglist :) @whitewineandpizzapuffs @planet-naptune @thefandomplace @sebby-staan @witch-and-a-half @nojamsonmytoast @seanh-boredom @wanniiieeee @louweasleymalfoy @missryerye

Odd One Out Taglist :) @loxbbg @haroldpotterson @isabellamur @hellion-writes 

[writinginthesecrettrees]

On Camera

 a fic for @writethelifeyouwant about Sam. On camera.

I think it ended up a bit over 500 words. Sorry not sorry.

-

Sam looks around nervously, a final check that everything’s in place. Bed made, door locked, roommate out for the next few hours, lights adjusted the way the studio told him to. Lube and a “realistic” dildo in easy reach, and he’s wearing loose gray sweatpants and a Stanford-red hoodie.

Tripod with camera aimed at the pool of light on the bed, and he wishes he could keep his face out but the studio pays more if they can see his face, his reactions, and he’s more than a little desperate since discovering that his scholarship doesn’t cover books or meal plan and he needs cash fast. Luckily there’s a market for pretty boys in financial need, he doesn’t even need to let someone else touch him and the studio loved his jack-off video. 

This’ll pay more.

Deep breath. He hits “record” and moves around to sit on the bed.

“Hey, so uh… I’m Sam, and you all liked my first vid so much, I’m making another. And it’d really help me out if you could leave a comment about what else you’d like to see from me.” He scrubs his hands on his sweatpants, laughs a little. “I’m still a bit nervous, so any encouragement you all could give would be… yeah.”

The studio told him not to worry about music or anything, they’d add some when they edited the video he’s sending them, but he can’t help wishing he could have something playing. Anything to get his mind off the camera in front of him and the blinking red light. He knows his cheeks are flushed red from embarrassment, but the studio loved that. “Ya look all innocent and shy... that gets lots of subscribers. Keep it up!”

He rubs the back of his neck, glances up at the camera, and feels himself blush harder. The problem is he’s just not in the mood, but if he doesn’t drop this tape in the mail today, he’s gonna start really falling behind on his classes. And maybe he shouldn’t, because that’s what got him into this new line of work in the first place, but he can’t break a habit of a lifetime, so he closes his eyes and thinks what would dean do.

Tries not to feel shame as he pictures Dean in his position and his dick starts to take interest immediately. He strokes it lightly, teasing through soft cotton, enough so it plumps up to tent the fabric before sliding his hands up his chest, rubbing at his nipples until they stiffen.

what would dean do

Sam opens his eyes, grins at the camera. “Think I should take it off?” He pulls the zipper of his hoodie down a couple inches, bites his lip, drags it further until the N and F are separated. That’s enough to trail his hand up between his pecs, up his throat, pushing his head back as he draws his fingers up over his chin to tease at his lips. Pretends it’s someone else’s hand (pretends it’s dean’s) as he sucks the tip of his index finger in and moans softly. He brings his free hand up to squeeze his pec, and blushes again. It’s not a tit, but he’s been touching himself the way Dean touches girls for so long he’s not sure he can get off without it.

Slowly, he pulls his finger out of his mouth, makes it pop loudly before tugging the zipper down completely and shrugging out of the sleeves. “You’ve got a great bod, kid, let us get a good look,” the studio said, so he pauses there, flexing his muscles, running his hands over his abs and gasping as he tickles his own sides. Goes back to his chest to squeeze and tweak his nipple, pinches one hard and gives it a little twist that makes him gasp. His eyelids are heavy as he looks into the camera again.

“I like when it hurts, just a little.” He barely recognizes the husky voice as he confides in the camera. In the thousands, maybe millions of faceless men who are going to watch this. Sam lets his eyes fall shut and pictures Dean standing there. “Wish you could touch me.”

what would dean do

Sam lets his hands fall, caresses his dick through his sweatpants with a groan. “Ready for more?” He falls back onto the bed, lifts his hips to slide his sweatpants off his hips, scoots back as his cock springs free of the waistband to thump against his belly. It’s hard and heavy, aching for attention but he avoids touching it. Frames it in his hands as he kicks his sweatpants off to the floor, pressing on the base with his thumbs to make it stand straight in the air. “Big, huh?” is not false bragging. He knows what average is, in real life and in porn, knows that he’s larger than most. Knows that he looks even bigger shaved bare, like the studio instructed. “Too bad it’s wasted on me.”

He pulls a leg up, raising his ass a bit higher, feels the tension in his abs as he reaches around his thigh to grab a cheek. Spreads himself wide, shows his hole to the camera. “What I really like… I like playing with this.” He braces himself on one elbow, reaches further, and rubs just the tips of two fingers over his hole, dry. His dick twitches, precum beading at the tip and smearing on his skin. Sam presses lightly, then harder, gets a finger in halfway to the first joint. A quick glance over his shoulder and he’s able to stretch his arm back to the bottle of lube on his nightstand. He flicks the lid open with his thumb and drizzles slick over his fingers and hole, hissing slightly at the chill.

The lube makes everything slippery, lets his first finger sink in completely and he’s got a second shoved in with a happy sigh before he remembers what the studio said. “Go slow, make ‘em wait for it.” He pulls his fingers halfway out, shoves them back in, starts slowly fucking himself and crooks his fingers up to hit his prostate. His dick leaks out more precum, a steady drip like a string of drool from where the head bobs in the air to his belly. His hips jerk, fucking back at his fingers and he bites his lip. 

“Could come like this, but you’re here for something else, right?” Sam pants, pulling his eyes back to the camera. He doesn’t stop fingerfucking his ass, feeling the soft heat clenching around his knuckles, just adds another finger and moans at the stretch. “Betcha wanna see me take… something… a bit bigger.”

He presses his fingers tight into his hole, rubs against his prostate and moans as he reaches his other hand out, grabs the dildo standing on the stand. It’s as long as he is, thick as his wrist, and he doesn’t think about how he’d picked it for its resemblance to Dean as he brings it to his lips. The position isn’t the most comfortable, but his tests showed him that it gets his face in frame without losing his ass, lets the audience see him wrap his lips around the thick mushroom head of his dildo while his fingers continue to thrust and stretch in his hole. The chemical taste of the fake dick is familiar, hours of practice for his own sake and he’d never planned to show off on camera but it is what it is. Slowly, carefully, he pushes the dildo into his mouth, opening his throat for it, doesn’t stop until the balls are pressed against his chin and he’s gagging on the length down his throat.

When he pulls it out, it’s glistening with spit. He’s gasping for air and his eyes won’t focus. His lips feel swollen when he licks them, tries to speak and has to cough to clear his throat. “Need it now,” Sam manages to say, and he pulls his fingers out of his hole, teases around the rim with the cock. “Need you so much…”

Sam struggles to relax as he pushes the head against his hole, pushes out against it, gasps and pants and whines until it finally pops through the ring of muscle, then lays there, clenching around the shaft until the burn of toothicktoomuch subsides. He fumbles for the lube, finds the bottle in the rumpled blankets where he dropped it, drips more slick onto the dildo and pushes it in farther. His back arches as he gets the toy deeper, each fraction of an inch a struggle. It’s his first time fucking himself with anything other than fingers and he’s almost sobbing with the pleasurepain of it, tears streaming down his cheeks. “De…” 

did i say that out loud?

It doesn’t matter. He’s got the whole of it inside him, filling him more than he’s ever been, and he wants more. Wants to feel weight on top of him, pressing him into the mattress, wants someone else pulling the thick shaft out and thrusting it back in, wants to feel hips pressing into his, swiveling the way he used to see Dean swivel in girls. All he’s got is his hand and a heavy chunk of silicone, so he gets a good grasp on the balls and starts thrusting and grinding the dick into him.

what would dean do

He wraps his other hand around his own cock, squeezing tight at the base, stroking himself roughly in time to the thrusts. His hips jerk back onto the dildo and forward into his fist and he throws his head back, bites back a howl and turns it into a long, low moan. It’s hard to keep a rhythm and he gives up on that, focuses on the feel of being stretched wide and stuffed, grinds back to try and get it just a little deeper, and his vision goes white as he comes harder than he ever has, spattering up his chest and he feels a few drops land on his chin before he collapses, boneless, on the bed.

Sam takes several tries to roll over, pushing himself up on his elbows and knees, but he finally gets in the studio-requested position and lets the dildo slide slowly out of his slicked-up ass, lets the camera linger on his gaping, puffy hole for a long minute before standing up with a groan, walking on shaky legs to turn off the camera. He pulls out the tape before he can chicken out, shoves it in the pre-addressed envelope and wipes himself off before getting dressed and heading out to drop the envelope in the mail, and he resolutely doesn’t think about it as he heads back to the showers to scrub himself clean.

-

Dean pulls the package out of the PO box and tries to pretend he’s doing this for noble reasons as he shoves $5k of pool hustling and poker cash in an envelope to mail to Stanford. Tries to pretend he’s gonna destroy the tape without watching it, tries to ignore the fact that the last tape was worn out from watching it before he finally broke it in pieces and burned it by the side of the road.

But if Sammy’s desperate enough for money that he’s willing to do this, Dean’s gonna make damn sure no one sees what’s supposed to be his. And if he does watch the videos Sam sends “the studio” a few times (a few hundred times) before getting rid of them, well… Dean figures he’s paid good money for these, and it’d be a shame to waste it.

[kagedaddy]

late valentine’s day - haikyuu!

Warnings: explicit content

gala days [masterlist]

i’m planning to make a bnha x reader blog / page. what do you think, would you guys be interested?

ushijima wakatoshi

Cockwarming

You turn your phone off and setting it down to the side, you were bored and in need for something or someone to entertain you. Rolling across the bed to face the sitting form of your partner, “Toshiii!”you call from his bed but he doesn't answer you causing a frown to sit on your lips, you were feeling a little touch starved, both you and Ushijima have been so busy with school activities that you barely have time for intimate things.

”Tooshiii!”you whine but only receiving a grunt in return causing your frown to deepen, “Pay attention to me.”you lazily slip out of the bed to approach your boyfriend’s seated form, ”I’ll pay attention to you later (first name), I’m doing homework.”he doesn't even spare you a glance just continues to scribble on the worksheet, you huff in frustration before deciding to be a brat and sit on his lap, you move your leg over his, slightly pushing him back to make space for you to slot in. ”(first name), I said I’m still doing work,”he tries to move you, hands on your hips to lift you but you shake your head, ”Just let me cuddle you, Wakatoshi.”he sighs in defeat and makes space for you turning back to his work. You wrap your arms around his neck and bury yourself in nook of his neck taking in his comforting smell and moaning in satisfaction.

You become restless and maybe a little hot and bothered, you shift around his lap trying to get some friction, “You’re so hot when you’re serious Toshi.”you press hot open mouth kisses on his exposed neck earning a strained moan from the ace, ”(first name).”he growls a warning but it does nothing to stop your actions. A devious smirk forms on you lips as an idea comes to you, “Just relax and trust me,”you whisper, taking his earlobe and sucking softy. You slowly grind your hips against him, getting the friction you wanted and you were happy to feel him harden against you. Your hands move to top his shorts slightly tugging them just to bring out his half hard length, you start sucking on his neck leaving love bites as you take his cock in your hand and pumping him softly, “fuck , I can’t concentrate,”he curses under his breath and you smile in satisfaction as his cock gets hard for you.

“Relax Ushi.”you lift yourself slightly to move your panties to the side before spitting on your hand to wet his cock, giving him a few pumps before easing yourself down, a loud moan escapes the both of you and you’re shivering at how deep he was. He feels so good inside you that you’re pussy wall are clenching on him, his hands grip your hips lifting you to move but stop his hands, ”Wakatoshi, you said you wanted to do work so let me just sit on you.”you peck his lips, mewling when he twitches in you. “So big Ushi.”you toy with the ends of his hair, tugging on them as he hips suddenly jolts up, tip knocking into your cervix.

“Don’t move Toshi, go do your work.”you were already breathless, wanting him to just fuck you silly but you wanted him to suffer too for ignoring you. “Then at least rid yourself of the tshirt.”you pull the fabric off your body but the movement has you bouncing on his cock, your eyes roll back and he groans, squeezing your sides as his lips find your collarbones, nipping at the exposed skin harshly. “Go concentrate.”you push him back, his eyes dark and blown out with lust, you purposely clench around him, “if you’re gonna cockwarm me, then you don’t move.”his large hand comes down your ass, spreading a stinging sensation on your cheek. “Fuck.”you whimper out, your juices dripping down to his pants and he chuckles before turning back to his work.

You rest your head on his shoulder, drowning in the feeling of being so full that you unconsciously begin rocking your hips, breathlessly moaning into Ushijima’s ear. You slip a hand between your bodies and begin rubbing on your puffy clit, eyes shut tight as your orgasm begins to surface. With a few rocks you’re cumming undone on your boyfriend’s lap, Ushijima slams his hand on his table.

“Now you’ve cum it’s my turn, I’m gonna fuck you silly brat!”

tendou satori

Sex Toys

“If you can keep in for the whole day, I’ll reward you tonight.”you shiver as he caresses your cheek with the vibrator, your boyfriend lives for trying out crazy things but this was insane. “Satori I won’t be able to concentrate in class.”you were hesitant but he only laughs, “that’s the point darling.”he chuckles and pushes you down on the bed. He spreads your legs open, pushing vibrator on your clit sending a sensation of pleasure, drawing lazy circles as he lowers his mouth to meet your heat. His tongue delves into your spongy cavern, fucking you with his wet muscle. He moves to suck your clit and pushing two fingers past your slit, pumping at an alarming pace.

He curls his fingers lightly brushing your sweet spot, feeling the burn of your orgasm build but just as you hit your high he pulls away from. You narrow your eyes at the red haired male, chin glistening in your juices but a teasing smile set on his lips. “Just a taste of your reward if you want to do it.”he again slides a sole finger in this time pumping at a slow pace, “what do you say darling?”lips meeting your ear before trailing kisses to your jaw and down your neck. You unknowingly nod your head, too concentrated on your oncoming high but just like before he stops. He slips in the vibrator in your cunt pulling you out of your trance, he smiles brightly pressing on the remote and the toy intensely pulses in your walls, a moan rips from your throat and you’re cumming hard around the vibrating egg.

That was this morning, you were currently gripping on the your school desk, teeth clenched as you tried to suppress your moans. Your lovely boyfriend sat smirking at you, hands in his pocket as he controlled the toy. Your legs tremble when another orgasm washes over you, you’re just about fucked out as you start to babble in conversations. As soon as class finishes, Tendou takes your wrist in a death grip and drags you along the hallways towards his dorm, he evilly ups the vibrations and it’s has you stopping and mewling loudly in the halls, he turns to you with a wicked smile before pushing you against the wall.

You’re both stood out in the hallway, he had trapped you between the wall, leaving light kisses on your neck, his hand finds your clit stimulating even more together with the vibrations of the toy. Your legs tremble and you find yourself sat on the floor, toy still pulsing intensely as you cum for the nth time of day. “Satori please, that’s enough.”you whimper, your body can’t handle anymore, legs unable to stand as tears stream down your face.

“You’re such a good darling for me.”

//

heyya! if you wanna check out the other schools’ valentines special click the [masterlist], they’re all under gala days. if you enjoyed the post leave a like and comment. have a great day! jaa ne!

happy birthday tamaki amajiki! 💕

all the love xx

[youryanderedaddy]

Honey dripping

 Yandere! Jumin Han x reader

tw: nsfw, murder, non-con, dub-con, mentions of cheating, mentions of blood, slight sugar daddy vibe, dirty talk, degradation, mention of threats

Summary: Your boyfriend provides everything for you and the only thing he expects in return is your love and loyalty. So of course when you fail to give him that, he gets a little angry. 

 It was useless - all your struggling and pained little pants. Nothing could stop the brutality unfolding before your eyes, glossy with tears. They were red and sore from the crying, but your despair wasn’t enough to melt his cold black heart. You knew that it was your fault and now someone had to pay the price. You couldn’t deny it, not when it was obvious to the outside gaze exactly what had happened while your loving caretaker was away, working hard to support you and give you anything your heart desired. The bed was messy with the white sheets all crumbled and the smell of adultery in the air still heavy and thick. No pretty words and sweet talking could get you out of the sticky situation this time around.

 “Please, tell them to stop!” You whispered, looking at Jumin with the big doe eyes you used when you wanted something to go your way. You even gently touched his hand, trying to wrap your fingers around his to calm him down, only to be met with a cold empty stare of disgust in return. It pierced through your heart like a thousand sharp arrows and your throat tightened in fear as you watched the bussinessman’s bodyguards beat your lover into a sweaty mess of flesh, snot and blood, weeping on the floor. The poor unfortunate soul was two punches away from the afterlife and there was no one to blame, but yourself. Shivers ran through your body from the cold and you realized you were still half - naked, the only thing protecting your most intimate parts being the oversized shirt of the dying man. Jumin glared at you for a long moment, studying the soft features of your delicate face before making an important decision. 

 “Kill him.” He finally ordered, voice monotone and unbothered by the inhuman whim. With a quick snap of his slender fingers the CEO-in-line had your paramour lifeless, dead on the ground. It happened so fast you found it hard to process down the murder, despite seeing clearly the unmoving figure and all the red sticky liquid he was drowned in. A hard lump stuck at the back of your throat, making it hard to swallow or even breathe, but the panic rising in your chest went unnoticed by Jumin, who was ready to turn his full attention to you, pining you with his cruel gray eyes. “I thought you were different.” He started off slowly, moving closer to you. “You were always so sweet and innocent I almost fell for your little tricks.” The man smiled bitterly, the sadness reflecting in his pupils as he took another step towards you. Now you could feel his big hands grabbing at your hips, drawing you in, and his hot breath on your neck - but he didn’t bite just yet. “I should have known better, that’s on me. After all you are just like those women who use my father for his money and status.” He whispered into your ear as he dig his nails deep into you bare thighs, squizing the naked flesh roughly. “You may be a cheap lying whore, but I still love you.” The bussinessman scratched at the vulnerable skin on your lower body before placing a small wet kiss on your collarbone. “I have invested so much in you, darling, but you seem to have forgotten that.” Jumin finally raised his head, smashing his lips onto yours, pushing his tongue all the way in, leaving you breathing hard and brushing off the saliva running down your chin. “I will teach you what happens when you forget your place, kitten.”

 WIth that the man dragged you towards the unmade bed, a harsh reminder of your betrayal, and despite all your squirming and pulling away, begging him to let you go, soon he had you pinned onto the mattress with your wrists trapped beneath his. The director wasted no time in ripping apart the clothing, soaked with the smell of another man. The swift aggressive move left you fully exposed and bare in front of the hungry lustful monster, the fear and andrenaline in your veins turning everything into a hazy mess of ugly emotions and silent sobs. You tried to close your legs, but the attempts to cover yourself were fruitless as the rich man simply tied your thighs, spreading you all to himself. Jumin couldn’t help running a finger up your slit, circling the small sensitive bud in the center until he felt your walls clench around his forefinger, and eventually it came out wet. 

 “How interesting.” The director stated, smirking with malice. “I thought you didn’t love me anymore, but your body is pointing otherwise.” You whimpered at his words, but your body gave you away as your hips rocked in the air in hopes of finding more stimulation. “I just killed your lover and your wet little pussy still wants me to fill it up, kitten.” Jumin started undoing his belt, taking out his member, hard at the sight of you so open and flustered, ripe for the taking. With one hand he groped your breast, messaging it gently, pulling slightly at the stiff raspberry tip, while the other kept fingering you in a steady pace. 

 “J-jumin!” You cried out in pleasure despite your best efforts to stay quiet while he played with your body like it was just another one of his possessions. It was humiliating, infuriating even, but there was nothing you could do except lay there and take it like a good little doll. You couln’t even fight off the moans coming out of your scarlet lips because his touch felt so good in such a wrong way. “Please, I am sorry! D-don’t do this to me.” You sobbed, letting the logical part of your brain speak as your cunt twitched in the upcoming orgasm that soon washed over you in one powerful wave. It was painfully satisfiying and left you panting heavily, trying to catch your breath. 

 “You want me to stop?” The bussinessman suddenly pushed the head of his throbbing member into your entrance, but stopped to look you straight in the eyes. There was no sight of defiance in them, only guilt and desperation - and to him you were the prettiest when needy, broken down and obedient for him. The tears were streaming down your face leaving a salty red trace on your puffy cheeks, and he licked it, running his tongue slowly and teasingly on your hot skin. “If you hate it so much, then, perhaps, you won’t come all over my cock like a little slut, yeah?” Jumin replied huskily, sucking and biting at your neck until several lovebites in all shades of blue and purple were formed, like a collar. The man then forced his lenght into your responsive hole without giving you the time to get used to it properly. Your expression changed from pleasure to pain and you whimpered in agony while the CEO-in-line shoved himself mercilessly into your heat, hitting the overstimulated nervs over and over again. Despite the initial discomort and shock your body managed to relax under the rough treatment and after a few minutes you started to arch your back to meet the harsh punishing thrusts. 

 “Look at you.” He spoke out, the coldness in his voice piercing your skin while you watched the sweat cover his pitch black hair. “ You are moaning like a dumb little slut while I fuck you silly even though you should be fighting be off. ” The director squeezed your tits, rocking his hips faster and faster - he was very close. “And now I am going to blow my load into you and mark you as mine.” The bussinessman kept hitting your sweet spot, abusing the sensitive place with his manhood. “We will do it together, I will count. You are not allowed to come before me.” The man commanded sternly without losing speed or strenght, staring at you with an intense gaze filled with lust, obsession and adoration. “One, two...” He lowered himself onto your tight hole as he kissed you passionately, invading your mouth with his wet tongue. “Three.” Jumin thrusted lastly before releasing the white thick liquid into your pussy. “Cum for me, my love.” He whispered softly into your ear while playing with your hard nipples. “Cum while I fill you up with my seed.” The bussinessmen kept stirring you up, teasing you, until he felt your cunt clench down, throbbing with need. You finally orgasmed, throwing your head back during the high of the terribly delightful sensation. You closed your eyes - there was nothing left to do or say after the violation.

 “Your punishment has come to its end now.” You heard his cold voice from far above you and it felt awfully distant but at this point you didn’t care. You just wanted to qucikly fall asleep and drift away to a different place. Somewhere warm and cozy where no one could hurt you. Unfortunately, his last sentence caught your attention. “But if you ever betray me again, I won’t be so loving anymore. What goes around comes around. Beware, darling.”

[imabeautifulbutterfly]

The Reunion

Summary: An unexpected clone walks into your cantina.

A/N: this one is a bad batch one off. Specifically Echo x reader

Thank you lovelies, for taking the time to read this.  It means a lot that you guys value my work.

Warnings: Slight implication of prostitution. Like blink and you’ll miss it.

AO3 Link

Drop some love, a comment or a reblog, it’s all appreciated.  If you want to be tagged on this story or any other of my stories, let me know. 

Masterlist -> Next

It was six months after the death of Fives, I made the ultimate decision and left the GAR, faked my death and started working at the cantina on Barab, I just couldn't justify being in this war anymore, seeing clones dying all the time for someone else’s war, fighting in a war that wasn’t theirs, it was senseless.

Working at the cantina wasn't like working as a spy and assassin for the GAR, but it was peaceful for the most part, if you ignore the drunkards and the drunken rambles at the end of the night, but mostly peaceful.

It was going great, that was until a very specific clone walked into the cantina.  A clone that was dark and broody, had a tattoo on half his face, and wearing a red bandana, if the tattoo didn’t draw attention, the red bandana certainly would have, but I guess when half the patrons are drunk out of their minds, no one was really going to pay any sort of attention.

It's okay, be cool, play it cool, although I've never met this particular clone, I heard the stories from Rex.  Rex told me all about him, Sergeant Hunter and his Clone Force 99 team, or Bad Batch as he called them, when he went to rescue Echo.  

I remember when Rex showed up at my door on Barab, tears were streaming down his face, as soon as I opened the door, Rex collapsed in my arms.  He was beside himself, he couldn't get over the fact he left him there, he left Echo, and to see what the separatist had done to Echo, what they turned him into, Rex couldn’t forgive himself, it took some time, we spent hours talking but eventually Rex was able to be okay enough to continue on.

When Fives first arrived from the Citadel mission, he had found me in my quarters on the GAR base, I knew.  I knew the minute I saw Fives’ face, he was inconsolable, he had lost his best friend, his batchmate, his brother, the one person in the entire universe that knew him better then he knew himself. 

I remember spending days holding Fives, trying my best to be there for him, I had to be the strong one, he wouldn’t have as much time off as I did, and he needed to be okay before going back out to the front lines.  I pulled myself together for both Fives and Echo, even though I had lost the love of my life, I knew I had to be there for Echo's brother, I would have time to grieve later.

If Hunter was walking through my doors, that meant Echo wasn't far behind, I tried to subtly look around the cantina, I couldn’t let Echo see me here, although my face may have aged, I was still recognisable.  

Rex told me, he didn't reveal to Echo anything about me, in fact he said he hadn’t told him much about what he had missed, but then again Echo didn't ask.  I couldn't reach out, everyone thought I was dead, and if he had mentioned to someone that I wasn’t or that I had faked my death, not that I didn’t trust Echo, I just couldn’t take the risk.  I convinced myself it was better this way, that eventually he would understand, but would he really?  He already lost so much to the separatist, was I any better in making him think he lost one more thing that connected him to humanity?  To think he lost my love?  Please oh maker, please don't let Echo come in. 

I watched as Hunter walked over to one of the waiters, 'calm yourself, just breathe, you've lied before, this is just another op, just another mission', and who knows maybe he won’t come to talk to you, you're the bartender people come and ask about drinks, they don’t come to have a chat with you, not usually anyways. I was busy attending to another patron, keeping myself out of Hunter’s view, maybe if I was too busy he wouldn't come to me, maybe he would go and ask someone else.

"Excuse me?" Hunter's voice cut through my thoughts like a sharpened vibroblade, he had snuck up to the counter and was now standing to the side of me, before directing my attention to him I quickly scanned the room, no new people.

'Okay, remember it's a mission and breathe, remember Rex said he had heightened senses', "Yes, sir” my voice was calm, my nerves and heart beat were all calm, “what can I get you?" I gave him my best bartender smile.

"I was told that you're the person to ask, see I'm... I'm looking for a friend"

"We're all looking for friends, sometimes people are happy if it's just for an hour, sometimes for a night and sometimes longer"

"Huh?"

"This is a cantina, the friends you are probably seeking are next door” I motioned to the building next door that had those types of services, “the only thing I can offer is a drink"

"No!” Hunter’s face was horrified, “No, that's not what I meant. I'm looking for a specific friend"

"Oh a specific friend, well who is this friend?”

“I don’t know”

“You don’t know?”

“No”

“Well, I mean if you offer a description, I could tell you at least if I've seen them, maybe they passed by in the days or weeks before" 

"Uhhh... I don't know"

“So you don’t know who you are looking for, or what they look like?”

“No”

"Well then, I’m not sure what you think I can do for you or even why came to me"

"The waiter said you knew most of the people who come in here, I thought you could help"

"Well do you have a name, maybe even a call sign, anything?"

"I was only told to ask for Phoenix Ghost"

Ohhhh kriff! He is looking for me, come on maker, can’t you just help me out, dank farrik! What’s worse, I'm going to have to figure out who told them to ask for that name, truthfully there are only a handful of people who knew that name especially after I faked my death, my call sign with the GAR was Halcyon, a bird associated with calm waters, it was only fitting that in my post-GAR life I should go by Phoenix Ghost, a bird associated with fire, the opposite of what I was.  When I was ‘alive’ I never stirred the waters, I stayed to the orders given, but now in my ‘death’ I worked in the shadows lighting fires to a new way of life.  Only one man I knew would have known to give that name to Sergeant Hunter, the only one who had any connection with Bad Batch before.

"Hmmm Phoenix Ghost?” I tapped my chin, my eyes down cast, I did my best trying to appear as though I was trying to recall if I had ever heard that name, “I’m sorry never heard the name before. Why are you looking for them?"

"We need help"

"Who the Empire?"

"No. My crew"

"Well let’s say I do find this person, that by some miracle of the force they show up tonight, how are they supposed to get in touch with you?"

"This is my comm, they can contact me day or night"

I took the piece of flimsi he handed me "alright, no promises."

He simply nodded and started to head out of the cantina, as soon as he was out of the cantina, I turned and walked to the back of the bar, taking the stairs that lead to the roof. I needed fresh air.  I’m going to need to have a word with that man, no heads up, no warning, that was close, way too close, closer than I cared to admit, but the fresh air and the quiet of the roof provided what I needed to calm my racing thoughts. 

"Anything?"

A voice from the alley down below, I leaned over cautiously, keeping myself out of sight, that’s when I saw four helmets and a small blonde head standing between two of them. 

"The bartender said she would pass on the info, but honestly it seemed like she didn't know anything" came Hunter's voice.

"But Rex, Rex said..." said the clone with the goggles.

"I know Tech" came Hunter's answer to his unasked question, so that’s Tech, that must mean the one beside the blonde hair was Echo and the behemoth looking one was Wrecker, wasn’t there supposed to be one more, a langy one who was a sniper… wait a sniper, I gulped realizing my mistake, I quickly looked around at the other roof tops, no one in sight, huh? Where was he?

"What do we do now?" asked Wrecker 

"Maybe someone else should try, maybe she didn’t trust you" offered Echo, oh please don’t go in, please Echo if you can hear my thoughts, don’t do it, this isn’t the way I want you to find out.

"We gave them our comms, Echo” continued Hunter, “let's leave it for now, if we don't hear in a day, someone else can come back tomorrow and give it a try" Hunter suggested, crap! They weren’t going to just leave, they must really be in trouble, and if they don’t hear from me, Echo could very well be the one to walk in next time, please listen to Hunter’s suggestion, please don’t go back in. 

I just saw their heads nodding along, “okay, but I’ll try next, if we don’t hear from Phoenix Ghost” Echo suggested and with that all five of them headed off down the alleyway.  Echo, the love of my life was right there, although I couldn’t see his face fully, he looked as well as could be, considering how Rex described him.  How am I going to explain why I faked my death? How could I tell him about everything? Would he forgive me?  He’s been thinking all this time I was dead, the person he loved most in the world was dead?  Maybe he no longer loved me, I needed to make a call, and I needed to make it now. 

- - - - - -

"Rex, why did I just have the Sergeant from Clone Force 99 show up where I work? Oh and thank you for the heads up by the way."

"Sorry about that, I didn't have time to tell you."

"OK, well we have time now, this comm is scrambled, no one’s going to be able to listen in or trace it for at least an hour, catch me up, what's going on?"

Rex began to explain everything, Order 66, Omega, Crosshair, the Bad Batch being on the run.

"Wow, Rex, you know of all the times, you should've contacted me, you probably should've a while ago. Just tell me, are you safe? Are you OK?"

"As safe as can be, adi'ka"

"Listen Rex, I can't lose you, we’ve all lost so much in this kriffing war, and now with the Empire.  I don’t think any of us can lose anymore. Just tell me, what do you need? How can I help?"

"Just help Bad Batch, I’m okay for now"

"You know that means I have to reveal myself to Echo, and all that I’ve been doing"

"I know, it'll be ok"

"How will it be OK? What, do I just show up and say hey hunny, sorry for pretending to be dead, even though I knew you were out there"

"I don't know its something people say"

“Do you think he'll forgive me?”

“I’m sure if you explain everything, he'll be more understanding than you realize”

“Do you think ... do you think he still loves me?”

“Listen, you’re like an infectious disease, there’s no getting rid of you from anyone’s system.  Once you’re in, you’re in till death.”

"Ha, thanks Rex, who knew you could write poetry.  You really think of me as an infectious disease?”

“A lovable one, but yes”

“Thanks, that makes it all better.”

“You know how I feel about you” oh this is not where I want this conversation to go, nope, not happening. 

“Should I bring him with me?" Rex let out a sigh, he knew I couldn’t say what he wanted me to, as much as I respected the man, there was only one man that my heart skipped a beat for, even when I thought he was dead, I couldn’t look at anyone else the same.

"Might as well, why not just rip the entire bacta patch off?"

"OK, but Rex if this goes wrong, I'm coming for you."

"Hahaha, sure sweetheart, whatever you say, if it does go wrong, I’ll be waiting here with open arms for you."

"Hey, don't sass me, I'm a trained spy and assassin you wouldn't even see me coming."

"Mmhmm whatever you say"

- - - - - - - 

Okay, this is just an audio comm, no one will see you, it'll be okay. Just breathe, your voice is modulated, your face is hidden, Echo won’t know who you are, they won’t be able to tell if I’m human, male or female, it’s going to be okay. 

“Hello?”

"Sergeant Hunter, this is Phoenix Ghost, I understand you were looking for me?"

"Phoenix Ghost? Yes! Thank you for contacting me, we need your help."

"If I can help in any way, I will, so tell me how can I be of assistance?"

"We need to find out who is after Omega, she’s a young clone, we also need credits or maybe a job, finally we need to lay low, some place off the grid, someplace the Empire doesn’t know about."

"Oh is that all, do you I don’t know, wanna order a planet? maybe a new ship too? How about some fries on the side?"

"Ha, they're funny" Wrecker's voice was unmistakable. 

“We know we’re asking a lot, but Rex told us if there was anyone who could help us, it was you” Hunter’s voice came through again, almost pleading.

Ugh, why was I such a sucker for a lost cause, "Okay, I'll help, meet me at these coordinates, in two hours, if you're ten minutes late, I will be on the next transport off of this planet and you'll never be able to get in touch with me again, do you understand?"

"Yes, how will we know it's you?"

"One of you will know"

- - - - - - 

Two hours later, I was sitting on a rock, hidden by hedges, with a cliff off to the side, I had all my gear with me, if this was going to go the way I suspected then it was better to have everything with me, so we could just head to the ship and leave this horrible outer rim planet.

“Are we at the right location?” came a small voice, that must be Omega.

“These are the coordinates they gave us” answered Tech

“Well where are they?” asked Wrecker

“I've got a bad feeling about this” answered Echo

“That’s close enough boys”

“Where are you?” asked Hunter

“Close by, tell me how do I know I can trust you? how do I know you won’t just turn me over to the Empire or shoot me as soon as I come out?”

“That would be a death sentence for us too” answered Hunter

“That’s not reassuring”

“They've protected me from the very beginning, everything they’ve done has been to protect me, they won’t hurt you.  I promise” came Omega’s voice through the darkness.

“Alright, I'm coming out, but if any of you try to shoot me, you better make sure to aim true or I’ll come for you”

“What did you just say?” asked Echo, as he was pushing himself to the front of the group.

Echo will know, this is the point of no return, he’s going to know, “I said, aim true or I’ll come for you, Echo”

“Cyar’ika?”

I pushed my way past the hedges, “Hi Echo”, seeing his pale face, the implants, his prosthetic arm and legs, it all hit me hard, I tried to push away the sadness, and just did my best to put on a smile, I know I failed miserably, but I had to try, for Echo’s sake I was going to keep trying.

“No ... I asked ... they ... they said ... they said you were dead.”

“I know, I’m sorry.  After Fives was killed, I had to fake my death, I just couldn’t keep fighting their war for them.”

“Cyar’ika?” Echo asked, stepping closer and closer, I couldn’t say anything, I just nodded, stepping closer closing the distance between us. Before I knew it, he had me in his arms, spinning me, his prosthetic was holding my back, while his hand was in my hair.  Laughter mixed with tears was all anyone could hear.  We were both alive, and he had me, he was holding me in his arms, it was real, it wasn’t a dream. 

The look on the bad batches faces was priceless, Hunter had a quizzical face, not quite understanding what was happening, Tech’s eyes were so wide, I thought for sure his eyeballs would fall on the floor, Wrecker’s jaw was almost touching the floor, only Omega seemed to be beaming, her face was pure joy.

“I met you in the cantina” was all Hunter said

“Yes, yes you did” I answered through Echo’s shoulder, once Echo had stopped spinning me.

“What do you mean, you met her in the cantina?” asked Tech

“This is the bartender” Hunter answered

“She deceived you, ha, she’s good” came Wrecker’s booming voice.

“uh, Echo, you might want to put her down, vod, before you crack a rib” came a voice from behind me.  I knew this was going to be a difficult moment for Echo, I could feel his grip tighten on the back of my head, I also could feel his head move to the side as he slowly lowered me to the ground, doing his best to get a good look at the man who had also emerged from the hedges with our bags.

“Fives?” his arms dropped from me, they were limp by his side.

“Hi Echo” Fives answered, not quite looking at Echo, his hand going to the back of his neck, as he nervously rubbed it.

“You ... you were dead ... they told me you were dead, you were both supposed to be dead” Echo took a step back from me, his face shifting between myself and Fives, my heart broke knowing that he probably grieved all alone, he didn’t have me to comfort him, he didn’t have Fives to comfort him.  Movement from behind Echo got my attention, as I looked behind him, I saw the Bad Batch, grabbing their blasters.  Without a thought, I moved from in front of Echo, and stood in front of Fives, “Hey, put your weapons down!” I shouted, doing my best to use my body as a shield.

“We can’t trust him, he’s a Reg!” Tech yelled

“Put your weapons down, he’s safe!” I screamed back

“How do you know that?” shouted Wrecked

“I removed his chip!”

Everyone was silent for a second, and then the small voice spoke up.

“You can do that?” asked Omega

I nodded, “But Fox shot you, Rex said Fox killed you” Echo interrupted us, before I could respond further to Omega’s question.  I didn’t blame him, he had been lied to, he thought the two people he loved most in this galaxy were dead, he stood still, he hadn’t moved from his position, his face was one of pure shock, “Well, technically yes” I answered.

“Technically?” Hunter asked

“My death was greatly exaggerated, but it had to be in order to save as many as we could” offered up Fives.

“Fox did shoot Fives, but we were able to save him.  Fox shot just slightly off center, and Rex had a bacta patch on him, it’s a long story, one we can’t get into right now”, upon that, Bad Batch had lowered their weapons. 

Upon seeing that he was no longer in danger, Fives slowly inched from behind me and stepped closer to Echo, “I’m sorry vod'' Fives took another step, “I’m so sorry” another step, “I should never have ... I should have ... at the Citadel, I shouldn’t have ... I’m so sorry vod',' Fives and Echo grabbed at each other simultaneously. “Nothing to apologize for Fives'' Echo got out amongst the gasps of tears, “if you had gotten me, the long necks would have just decommissioned me, or you would have ended up on a slab beside me, and I wouldn’t have wished that on anyone” Echo let out, hugging his brother, his batchmate, with all he had.

Seeing them reunited, seeing how they had each other again, brought a tear to my eye, I casually wiped away the tear that had formed, no sense getting emotional right now.

“Wait, you said you were able to remove the chip?” asked Tech

“Yeah, we were able to come up with a way to find it and remove it.  We tried to save as many as we could, but seeing as how Fives and I were technically dead, there wasn’t a lot we could do outright, but we did our best.  That’s when we came up with the idea of taking some of your brothers from the battlefields, we took those that were on the outskirts of the battle, one’s that no one would realize right away, thinking that they had been killed in the battle.  After all, those long necks don’t care about those who died on the field, so what if a few more were to say ‘die’ if we could save them in the long run, I mean let’s face it those long necks would never look for them.”

“What happened to them after they ‘died’?”

“We gave them an option, they could go back to the GAR, say they had been knocked out, and woke up alone on the planet, and saved by some villagers, or we could find them a nice quiet planet where they could live out their lives how they wanted, and if they had a significant other somewhere, we would do our best to get in touch with them, and tell them where they could be found.”

“How many went back to the GAR?”

“Fives, how many have we saved?”

“About 2500 give or take, it was easier during a more bloodier encounter, plus we were able to save some that the medics had determined they couldn’t save, ones they couldn’t save with the equipment they had in the field”

“How many went back to the GAR?”

“None” came the answer with the biggest smile on his face.

“Does that mean you can save Cross?” Omega asked, I came closer to her, resting one hand on her shoulder as I kneeled in front of her, so we were at eye level, I nodded, “if we can find him, we can save him, but I will still offer him the same choice, you have to understand that, I’m going to give him the option to decide if he wants to return to the Empire or if he wants to stay with you or go to a quiet planet.  I’m not going to make anyone’s decision for them, all we are doing is simply offering them a choice to make a decision that is theirs and theirs alone.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” came Wrecker’s question along with his boisterous laugh.

I laughed along with him, as I stood, and turned to face Echo, “It’s up to Echo, Fives and I put him through the wringer.  Echo we’re not going to tell you, you should forgive us, this is your decision if you can forgive Fives and I then we can help.  Echo if it’s too much for you, if you can’t forgive us, I understand and I can provide you with whatever help I can offer at this moment.  Echo, you have to know we’re so sorry, we didn’t want to hurt you, when Rex told me he rescued you and that you were still alive, I wanted to reach out, I wanted to tell you I was here, it took everything in my power not to be there by your side, I couldn’t put those men we rescued in danger.”

“Cyar’ika” Echo said walking towards me, with Fives trailing behind him, his hand cupped my cheek as he brought my forehead against his, “I forgive you.  I forgive you both.  You saved our brothers, cyar’ika.  You gave them a life, the Republic and now the Empire has stolen from them.  I'm nothing but proud, cyare.  If I had to suffer a thousand lifetimes in the hands of those separatists, knowing that in the end I got you and Fives back, I would.  Without you, there is no life, without you both I am nothing.  You’re my life and my future.”

The tears that had been threatening to release for sometime now, couldn’t be held back any longer, “I love you Echo”.

“I love you cyare”

“Yeah, I love you guys too” came Fives voice off to the side, we both turned to look at him, while our foreheads stayed pressed together, Fives had a smirk on his face, maker he could be so irritating sometimes just like an older brother, “but I think Wrecker has the right idea, I think we should head out of here, and maybe get off this planet.”

“Agreed” came Hunter’s voice, “plus, we got a missing Bad Batch member to find”.

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