#umm does this need a trigger warning . ???

[xerotiny99]

Antiserum D // Loving Professor Jeong #1

Antiserum D (Loving Professor Jeong series #1) Professor/College au.

Pairing: Jeong Yunho x (f) Reader [ft. Choi San & Song Mingi]

Warning: smut, prof!yunho, dom!yunho, sub!reader, student!reader, age gap, teasing and suggestive actions, size kink, big dick Yunho, dirty talk and pet names (master and pup), blowjob/throat fucking, spanking, rough sex, unprotected sex, edging, creampie and dacryphilia.

Note: do not proceed if you're uncomfortable or triggered by the mentioned tags. Also note the age gap tag, here the reader is 21 and Yunho is 32, which makes it 11 years of gap.

Side Note: this series will contain 'hyung line' as the professors and the 'maknae line' as minor characters; except for Choi San and Song Mingi, these men are cheeky so look out for them. Again, as my other series, 'the reader' does have a name, i.e, Lee Sherri. Nicknames are bound to follow, so don't worry. I only write names in my oneshots because it's too annoying to write [y/n] everywhere and it ruins my flow of writing. Anyway, enjoy!

Gist: you had a rival in college, yes you did. It wasn't a student, rather the person you hold your grudges against is one of your professors. Now, you're in your senior year of bachelor's degree, running late for a morning class—knowing well he takes this class, what do you think the consequences would be?

Word Count: 12,164

 'My dog died.'

No, you don't have a pet!

'My bus was late.'

You live on-campus.

'The coffee shop was crowded.'

You don't freaking have a cup in your hand!

'Umm, I overslept.'

Well, he doesn't need to know the truth. 

He really doesn't need to know the truth to why you were running late to his morning class. As time would have it, you did oversleep; lethargic from last night's meaningless meandering from bar to bar, in search of your sober soul, you surely had forgotten about your morning class the next day. Weekends are supposed to be lax and diverting. They're your only shot at having a good time with your friends. You weren't going to let your fear of being reprimanded by your 'favourite' professor stop you from having the fun you deserved. The weekdays were long, tedious and dull with all the lectures and practical sessions to attend.

You're sprinting up the stairs to get to your department; the science building is supposedly long and encompasses all other departments falling into it. Your department (zoology), moreover, your class was situated on the second level of the building. Meeting with the long hallway on your way, which apparently was the physics department, you turn a corner and are merged with another long hallway leading to yours. The grotesque stench of formaldehyde hits your nose the moment you walk past the junior laboratories of your department; that's where they were trying to preserve biological specimens, the 'tingle-your-spine' kind. There are lecture halls and laboratories on one side of the long hallway, while the other side was an open space with concrete railings and pillars; this space opened into the botanical garden the botany department had been tending to, so it housed large trees, a decent number of shrubs and flowering plants, including a variety of cactus and other succulents. 

Rushing in your steps, holding your tote bag close to you, your eyes scramble past the open space and the garden onto the walking street of your campus; it was borne with trees on both sides, and amidst the thicket of greenery you find the main building of psychology department. You almost heave out a laugh, reminiscing of the last night when your best friend (who studies psychology) was drunk out of his mind and had been making out with a lamppost. You pull yourself out of that daze, increasing the pace of your sprint to get to your laboratory.

First red flag of your day, the doors to your lab were open wide. Second, your supposedly 'favourite' professor was midway through an explanation about the experiment you were going to perform today. And third, you were technically thirty minutes late to the lab.

Quiet on your feet, you try to sneak inside; the structure of your lab was a little different, with sitting desks on one side of it, and workbenches on the other. In retrospect, this was your senior year's class where apparent lectures took place, and the workbenches were designated for less involved experiments. At the very front of your class/lab is a podium, a chalky black board, and a desk for professor. You glance at the front after realising all students had occupied the workbenches, you catch up on the glimpse of Professor Jeong carrying on with his explanation till his eyes meet yours.

"Miss Lee," he grumbles, amidst his explanation, "sneaking in—" mumbling he checks the time on his wristwatch, the sleeve of his coat riding up, "—a total of thirty minutes late. You better have a good reason."

He folds his arms over his chest, and stares down at you. While you halt midstep into the class, standing straighter you clear your throat and feel your mind stutter looking at him. Why did he have to dress so provocatively? And the outfit in concern was his beige coat and matching pants, a white long sleeved turtleneck underneath; you didn't quite like how your heart was palpitating watching him, keenly grazing your thirst-filled eyes across his face, noticing the shine on his black rimmed glasses and the plumpness of his pink lips.

"Miss Lee?" he repeats, only to get you squeaking, "yes, professor—uh yeah, I was late because my alarm did not go off in the morning..."

He hums in contemplation, eyes narrowing on you before he sighs and shakes his head, "occupy one of the workbenches and do not touch anything before I tell you to."

You nod, pressing your lips tighter to prevent any sound from escaping your throat; you were certainly anxious and embarrassed to be late, but more precisely you were humiliated in front of your class for coming up with such a lame excuse. Sighing, you stuff your tote bag in your locker at the back. You quickly slip on a lab coat over your outfit, bubbling with disappointment as it was hiding your nubile outfit. Knowing you were running late, you still made extreme efforts to dress yourself up—the reason was quite overt, because you wanted to dress up for yourself—you wore a white blouse under a pastel blue sweater vest and paired it with grey skirt which rode up till your mid-thighs. The lacy thigh-high socks were just an added accessory to make yourself seem cute considering you also had a blue ribbon in your hair, holding it in a high ponytail.

The only workbench unoccupied is the one situated at the very end and far from either the professor's desk at the back near the lockers and the podium from where Professor Jeong was reading every movement of yours. When you get to your designated place, you glance at the workstation to take note of the apparatus, before glancing next to you, finding the most obnoxious person you could. Choi San, Choi freaking San was offering you a guileful smile, one whose intentions did not appear to be right, or even ethical.

Bastard.

"So, Miss Lee is late because she couldn't hear her alarm go off? Pathetic," he rolls his eyes, folding his arms over his chest, his own lab coat creasing by the elbows with his plaid shirt peeking from beneath. "I don't believe you—oh well, but I wonder what your favourite professor would think about you when he knows you were getting pissed drunk last night with your friends."

You weigh his words in your mind for a second before furling back a reply. "Aww, Sannie. If you're so desperate to get in my inner circle, just say so. I didn't know you would be so jealous of us..."

San's smile turns into a curve of amusement, "jealous of you? Me? Jealous?" he scoffs, "darling, you're dreaming. If I wanted to be in your inner circle, I would've just slept my way through it."

"Really now?" you retort, smiling softly, "slept with whom?"

"An easy prey to seduce would be you—" he clicks his tongue, "—if you can be so impressed by that..." he nods his head toward Professor Jeong, "...then I believe you'd be swept off your feet if I genuinely try to."

"You put yourself on such a high pedestal, Sannie," you muse, shaking your head lightly, "do you really think my standards are set so low to be dazzled by you?" 

"Oh, only time would tell, Miss Lee," he rolls his eyes, keeping his sly smile on. "Maybe, you would get infatuated with me or give into your temptations."

"Ahh, such a dedicated wishful thinker you are," you snide, heaving a low chuckle, "the only thing I'm tempted to do is throw a chair in your fucking face—"

"Miss Lee!" you flinch in your skin, body spasming to the deep and coarse voice of the professor. Hesitant in yourself, you peek up to face him, finding him glaring at you without a twitch on his face. "You certainly are not going to pay attention to my class, then why waste my time? You're free to leave. I don't hold my students captive; the ones passionate about learning find a way to attend my class in any way they could."

Your cheeks heat up, turning a shade of faint cherry red; embarrassment licks your spine and head lowers itself, you won't forget this moment ever. San is busy staring at you, feeling a little guilty but of course he won't let you know that. Shortly after, you glance back at the professor, noticing him staring at you with his lips in a scowl and his eyes piercing through you. That alone, that look alone was enough for you to quiver in your shoes; his persona had always been the intimidating kind, the kind who is self-possessed and doesn't really bother himself with the rest of the world.

Professor Jeong wasn't fazed by anything, not even by the number of female students crushing on him in your department, rather in your class alone. He didn't acknowledge their stupefyingly sexual or overly sensual approaches, turned them down if he thought they were invading his privacy. You took that as a challenge; maybe, maybe not. Your rivalry with him wasn't because he was unapproachable or a forbidden fruit to taste, it was because he always found a way to rattle your senses and make you the fool.

You remember it as clear as a day, at the beginning of your senior year, the very first semester—attending his class on genetics, you were simply taken off by him and his way of speaking. His personality was homely, strict where it should be, however. Amidst his lecture, he caught you talking and joking around with your bench-mate and questioned you about the topic he was teaching.

"If you can yap useless things, then why don't you enlighten me with the working of gel electrophoresis, hmmm...?"

It stung. But not more than him adding, "I'm even surprised you could answer. Maybe you should focus yourself more on your academics than other things."

Other things? You realised he was making comments on your appearance, the way you were dressed, the way you had streaks of gold stitched in your hair, the way you always had playful make up on—he judged you based on that, and thus the profound feud between him and you began. After that, you would intentionally skip his classes and not make an effort to attend them; even the practical sessions, except for the mandatory ones where you would bite your tongue and listen to him demeaning your entire existence for not setting the microscope right.

"Alright, now that I'm done explaining the principle and bits of the procedure, you may follow the same with your partners; if you're muddled with any concern then heed my name." He announces out loud, stepping down from the podium.

You raise your head, further listening to his footsteps dither across the floor to the back of where another table had been put up for teachers' comfort. Though, that's what you thought. The mellow sound of his boots takes an unassuming turn to your row of workbenches, taking you off guard. You're trying to find the meaning behind his detour. Also, you had been oblivious from the start that this practical is supposed to be performed in pairs. And you had no one. Because you were late. Even the slow-witted and stolid transfer student, Reagan Keith had a partner; and her partner was San himself, something you definitely did not see coming.

"Miss Lee," Professor Jeong clears his throat, standing next to you, "I suppose you do not have a partner because of your tardiness, and I happened to pair all my students prior to you, which leaves me no choice but to perform this particular experiment with you. So now, take a brief look at the blackboard and what I've etched on it, try to understand it. Once done, we can surely proceed."

You nod, contemplating, biting your cheek, unable to comprehend the proximity between you two. The dense musk of his scent is wafting all your senses—the redolent scent of vanilla and cinnamon is a deadly concoction to drive you wild. His warmth is superficial, yet the kind which melts your mind with stupefying possibilities, just how he could be—you need to keep your thoughts clean and chaste. Still, you suppress your mind to a corner and peek at the blackboard, studying his neat hand etched on it. The title gave you the rough idea of what you're supposed to do. 

'Determination of blood groups.'

Ahh, the title itself foretells the coming inevitable mishap is going to involve blood and blood lancets; you aren't so fond of the needles—no, it wasn't a phobia, you weren't fond of pricking yourself with the help of those lancets. The blue rounded capsules which compassed a sterile needle underneath was beyond torturous to you.

You heave out a deep breath, understanding the further procedure he had inscribed on the blackboard. Familiar with few terms, such as the usage of antiserums, and principle behind the entire procedure, you were relieved. Way more than relieved to know this wasn't something out of your expertise. The nurturing thought of you actually explaining it to him however was too heavy to bear. You clear your throat, fumbling in your words as you dart your eyes anywhere else but at him.

"Yes, Miss Lee, are you done gandering at the procedure?" he gawks, bewildered as if and continues, "now, please enlighten me with the steps so as to we can proceed with the experiment."

"We—we are determining the blood—blood groups," you stutter, not knowing where that came from, you turn your attention onto him, stifling a gasp upon noticing him leaning close to you.

"Go on, Miss Lee," he prompts you with a soft nudge of his head. "I'm sure having to palaver about for the entire day, you could at least narrate the steps to me. All I need is your guidance."

He's playing you again.

"Alright, I will—" your breath hitches in your throat—you witness him effortlessly shrug his coat off, revealing nothing of his skin but the long-sleeved turtleneck he wore under.

"Hmhm, yes...?" he instigates, putting his coat off to a side while he rolls the sleeves of shirt over till his elbows. "What's the first step?"

"Sterilisation." you mutter under your breath.

"Sterilisation of what, Miss Lee?" he teases, keeping a straight; his pushes his glasses further up his nose, which had apparently slipped off a bit.

"Sterilisation of the subject area."

"Okay, tell me which area is most suitable for this test?"

You nod, swallowing thickly as your eyes never leave his. "The tip of the middle finger."

You weren't going to waver, not even when his soft brown eyes were speaking the unbearable at the moment; how can he do that? How can he momentarily torment you with a sly curve of his lips or by the detrimental facade of his eyes?

"And why is that?"

"Tendon sheath—uh, the middle finger has tendon sheath which only limits it to the fingers; as for the thumb and pinky finger, the sheath extends a little further to radial bursae and ulnar bursae—so in case any infection occurs it'll be restricted to the middle finger unlike the thumb or pinky which can lead to the heart." You try your best to explain, forgetting how to breathe in the process.

"You know your stuff," he murmurs, his voice low and cold, "do you see any sterilisation pads on your table?"

Looking around your desk, almost immediately, your eyes lurk on a beaker full of 70% ethanol and cotton swabs. You bring the beaker close to you and reach out for the forceps placed next to it; extending the beaker toward to him, you clear your throat, hoping he'd get on the cue.

"Miss Lee, I'd very much appreciate if you were to perform all the steps involving this practical."

"Right—okay, so..."

You drag your words into a whisper, holding the palm of his hand in yours, while other picks out a cotton swab with the forceps. The piece of cotton rolls to and fro on his skin, rubbing gently. Hearing him wince at the cooling sensation of ethanol against his skin, you stifle a chuckle and let out a sigh; once you were done with sterilising, you reach out for the blood lancets. Picking out one, you rip the cap off to reveal a sterling needle shining with a sharp point.

"Have you done this before, Miss Lee?" he questions as he watches you hesitate with the blood lancet. "Pricking yourself is quite different from pricking others, isn't it?"

You nod because you knew how different it was. In actuality, you're scared. You always were terrified to prick yourself with the needle whenever you were required to and it was mostly during your practical classes involving forensics. The high possibility of piercing your professor's skin, past the point till where it's necessary, was an untold fear you couldn't overcome. But, as you glance up at his docile face adorning an encouraging smile, in addition to the haughty glint in his eyes, you are much more prepared for the consequences.

"I am absolutely terrified when it comes to pricking myself—what if I..." your glance at his hand, then dart your eyes to his, feeling a breath hitch in your throat.

"You won't hurt me," he reassures you, later on compelling you with his words, "any day now, Miss Lee."

The racking nerve in your head forces you to take a deep breath and you're hauling the pointed tip of the lancet close to his finger. You know it takes one sudden nick to break the skin, and you also know you're supposed to be careful and swift with it. Hesitation breaks your conscience, you're still in two minds, still wondering if this was a good idea. Regardless of your abrupt cold feet, you let the lancet pierce through his skin, drawing out a ceaseless stream of blood; Professor Jeong is heedful of his bleeding finger and proceeds to make three blobs of blood on a microscope slide.

He puts the slide back, the glass clinks against the table but it melts into your thoughts—you were ogling him. You notice his veiny hand trembling softly to the unbridled tremors from the cut on his finger, it was attractive. You wouldn't mind admitting it, he has great hands—and sadly, you had a fetish. Trapping your lower lip between your teeth, you admire the little things about him; the proximity faltered to nothing, gave away how spotless his skin was, how sublimely luscious his lips were, and how the tiny specks of green in his eyes were far too evident in the sea of umber. Though, his hands were all you could think about; his porcelain skin, the bulging veins wrapped around his knuckles while they branched further down his hand—uff.

"Miss Lee?" he calls out, snapping his other finger, "please pass me a cotton swab, I need to clean myself."

You were brought back to the reality, seamless kind, a little vapid where you were impelled to keep a safe and healthy 'professor-student' relationship with him.

Hold up!

Where in the world did that come from?

The thought of having something more than 'professor-student' relationship with him.

You and him?

That's a little...

Far-fetched.

Unless...

There was...

There was a way to vex him.

You look back to all the times he's devalued your existence during his classes. The haughty remarks which rolled off his tongue with so much ease to belittle your short-lived efforts in any of his class, or perhaps, in any of the activities your department would plan. A spark in your mind strikes you in a way you couldn't quite explain, but you know you're finding yourself tighten your grip on his wrist. It's oddly satisfying, it's benign in your mind—though, the tiny bulb of tease was going on and off every second you spent staring at him.

There goes nothing.

Without hesitating you bring his hand close to your mouth, your tongue darts out the minute his bleeding finger finds its way in your sight, and you lick up a stripe to clean the blood off his finger. You hear him gasp, a sharp intake of breath which already told you he was bothered by your actions. Continuing to the rhythm of your heart, you wrap your lips around the tip of his finger and give it a soft suckle. Soon, a metallic copper taste slides on your tongue. Such an eerie sight to witness, by your professors and the others too. Especially the spawn of devil who was too busy charming the ditzy transfer student off her feet; if San catches you being this 'type' of friendly with the professor you 'slightly' resent then you probably could never show your face to anyone on the surface of earth. Luckily, San wasn't even sparing a glance at you.

"Miss—Miss Lee?" his voice breaks when he calls out to you again, prompting you to loosen your grip on his hand before you're letting it drop to his side.

"You were supposed to add antiserums to the slide, drop by drop. Now..." he takes a deep breath, noticing your glossy eyes and your plump lips parted; he's definitely resisting his urges. "The blood on the slide is almost..." He glances down at the table. "...it's almost dry. Miss Lee—" he leans in close to your ear, a coarse whisper sending a shiver down your spine, "—I'd like to see you after class."

"Maybe you can justify your actions then."

He leans back and takes a short gander around. Curling his lips up in a riveting smile, he nudges you with a nod. "Add the antiserums now, Miss Lee. All the others have finished performing the experiment."

You're out of your daze, rummaging your eyes around to find many of your classmates are done with their work and had gone to the other side of the lab, where the desks were.

"I'll be checking your practical sheets before you leave, so make sure you complete them all now." he announces out loud in the class, earning muffled groans from his students. "And no excuses."

"You too, Miss Lee," he turns to you, "now, if you will, you have to tell me my blood group. So, go on."

Again, pulling yourself out of the stupor, you nod profusely and proceed to the next step before the blood on your slide is completely dry. You add a drop of each antiserum on the three droplets of blood; waiting for a second, you watch the drop with antisera D and antisera A added begin to clot. To your conclusion, Professor Jeong's blood group is A+ve. All while you did the experiment, his eyes were fixed on you, fixated on your quivering hands and lips every time you tried to do something. In some instances of his mind, he was admiring you and your dedication, and how badly he had rocked your boat into capsizing.

"Good," he muses, his words turning bitter soon, "you sure can do a few things right. Well, all that's left to do is—" he grunts softly as he pulls the sleeves of his shirt back down, while he shrugs on his coat, "—cleaning and writing. Chop chop, Miss Lee.  And do not forget you have to wait after class."

With those spine-chilling words he leaves you stranded to your spot; unfortunately, this time San had overheard your conversation. He slides next to you, eyeing your workstation before glancing over at you.

His lips push themselves out into a pout, and he grumbles, "fucked up something?"

"None of your business," you grit your teeth, "get away before I chop your balls off."

"Oh, I'm shivering," he deadpans, nudging his elbow with your ribs, "come on, Lee. Tell me. What did you do for him to ask you to wait after class? We both know he's never done it—in fact he hates it when someone waits after class to 'talk' to him." he emphasises with finger quotes, rolling his eyes at you. "You fucked up big time then."

You heave out a long sigh, "I—just, shut up, San. You're the most annoying person in my life."

Grumbling, you glance at Professor Jeong, he was sitting on his desk at the back of the class, by the lockers. His stare was on you. It was on you from the moment he sat down. And even though you may not know what he was thinking, or wondering about, the glimpse of him having his teeth scratching on his lower lip was enough to let you know what exactly he intended on doing with you.

"Don't drag it out on me," he mumbles, his pout still intact on his face, "although, you're denying the truth, which means you two had an anomalous interaction..."

As he trails off, you roll your eyes at him. Finding the courage to break your eye contact with Professor Jeong, you glare at San and bite your lip. "Yeah, he made me wait after class. It's pertaining to me being late. Now off you go, make yourself useful elsewhere. Maybe, help Reagan find the remaining of her skirt, pretty sure she left it back at her dorms."  

San muses for a second before leaning over to stare at the said girl's skirt; she was standing by the lockers chattering with someone. His face twitches smugly, his brows creasing as he checks her out.

"Oh, no no! That does seem more important than dealing with you, Lee." he smirks, biting his lower lip, "see you around, try not to get too infatuated with your favourite professor."

Sauntering away from you, he loses his lab coat and then engages himself with Reagan. You project your frustrations into a sigh and begin cleaning your workbench before heading to the lockers to retrieve your bag and other items. Walking past the professor was a challenge in itself because you were too fazed in your mind by everything he did. Though, you could really say you were fuddled over his decision to make you wait after class. Anyone could tell you exactly how much he despised his students waiting after class, 'cause most of the times it would be the absurd number of female students trying to confess their feelings for him. You could sympathise with him, understand where he was coming from because you would find yourself in a similar situation; you were well sought to in your department, endless confessions, profuse gestures of affection, what not.

Regardless, you realised what you wanted in a man. It was the professor himself.

"Miss Lee, I need your practical journal completed." he speaks up as you're walking past his desk with your tote bag on your shoulder and your lab coat neatly folded in your hands. "You know what, I'll go through it after class. Till then, get your write-ups done."

Offering you a redolent smile, he tears his eyes off you. You swallow thickly, knowing well how ineptly stuck you were with him, after class too. And one more fact, your practical journal was incomplete—blank at the most, which was a catastrophe in the waiting. As the fear creeps up your spine, you bite your cheek and stumble onto an empty desk, settling yourself down to catch a breath.

Time passes in a haste, without bounds, and soon the moment you dreaded arrives with a tinkering bell on it. The class is empty, except for you and Professor Jeong. You could listen to him breathe, placidly whistle out a grumble a few times since he was busy with something you didn't feel the need to pay attention to. The clock on the wall ticks again and you're gathering your stuff before 'sneaking' out of the class. If his attention is solely saturated over something useless to you, then he probably won't even notice you gone.

At least that's what you thought.

"Miss Lee, I must remind you of our little parley where I asked you to wait after class." He doesn't even peek from the file he was reading, and continues, "don't think I can't see you sneaking away."

You stop in your steps, right in front of the open door with a few students lurking behind in the corridor. Stifling a groan, you roll your eyes and turn around on your feet. The man is sat poised in his chair, his lips curved in a smirk as he's staring right through you. Your heart skips a beat, yes too cliche, but you felt its arrhythmic vibrations ring your ears.

"Are there any students loitering in the corridor?" he questions and you nod to it, pressing your lips together. "Wait for them to leave and then lock the doors."

Why?

Lock the doors?

Why lock the doors?

Now your heart was pounding in that bony little cage of yours. Sooner or later, you would find it either in your throat or your guts that is if he continues to stare at you with the intensity of sun. Quite lost in the trance of his melancholic yet concupiscent eyes, you start nibbling on your lower lip, wanting to squeeze your thighs together to rid yourself of the tension you felt in your cunt. The chatters start dithering outside, ascending to the wind of nothing and it brings peace to your mind; not that it wasn't peaceful before, but now, it's just you and him caught in a void of infatuation.

"Do not take my intentions in the wrong way, Miss Lee. I am not so fond of disturbances during one-on-one student session..." he explains, going back to reading his file. Though, after a while he clears his throat and prompts you, "any moment now, Miss Lee."

"Yea—yeah," you stutter, sensing your throat close up.

Taking a step forward you close the latches on the door. The exhilaration of you being alone with him is sort of distorted in your head when you make your way towards his desk. What does he have in his mind? What does he want from you? Is this one of his many ways to make you feel small and little? Like all the times he does when you're attending his classes or so.

The look in his eyes has a spark of joy, just humming across the field of brown containing his pep. Those same eyes follow you around, till you're in front of him; his face shows no emotion, except for that straight line of his lips.

"Would you need an invitation, Miss Lee? Your binder, please." he asks, peeking up at through his long lashes and the black rimmed glasses. The glare on them makes it hard for you to read his eyes this time.

You clear your throat, and fumble with your bag to take the thick binder out. Pages furled out of it, a few flying off to fall on the ground, while a few remained stuck in amidst the others; you could tell Professor Jeong wasn't too happy with the condition of your binder. To be fair, this binder was your repository for all performed experiments so far. Nonetheless, your binder was...incomplete. Biting your lip, you place your binder on the table in front of him.

He eyes it for a moment before grabbing it in his hands and flipping the pages. You couldn't resist holding him on a high regard; his sleek fingers pinching the edges of the pages, turning them, eyes rummaging along the lines, and his parted lips which could tell he was contemplating.

"I certainly did not expect this from you, Miss Lee." he clicks his tongue, "now that I see it for myself, I can't help but agree with my initial remark about you. I would suggest you focus more on your academics rather than wasting your time with your friends and ambling through your life."

He sighs in defeat, mostly disappointment and slides your binder towards you across the table. Pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose, he takes a deep breath and turns his head to you, his face expressing nothing at all.

"Life's not all about strolling through one club then to another. And while you do that, I can't sit back and watch you ruin your potential, Miss Lee," he sucks his teeth, as he continues to berate you with his words, "you're in the running for most proficient student in our department, alongside Mr. Choi. Now, would you be delighted to bear a consequence where he holds the trophy and not you? All because of what...? Some fiddling people you call your friends whose only job is to drag you out to buzzing clubs and what not."

Listening to him hound your existence, your heart suddenly weighs down in your chest, it grows heavy till it touches your gut. Oh no, you were letting it affect your state of mind. On the verge of tears, you look away from him and fixate your blurry vision on the floor; it was overbearing to hold his eyes, to wallow in the disappointment he held in them. Moreover, you didn't want him to see you cry, or shed a tear for that matter because you know you were close. Very close.

You sniffle softly, lowering your head furthermore to avoid to his gaze.

"Miss Lee?"

Silence.

You don't care for the concern his voice shows and continue to toil yourself on the contrasting hue of morning sun and the grey tiles. Blurry vision captures the indefinite shadows of lockers, some bookshelves—the sun was crawling overhead, witnessing your derision with your professor. You don't try to pay him any mind, not that you could even if you wanted to. There's a possible reason to why you don't want to, maybe the answer lies in your uncertain infatuation with him, or maybe it does prove your outlandish feelings for him. Which one of it was genuine?

A small moment passes between you two, roiling in tranquil haze before he clicks his tongue and drawls on a breath. "And to speak on your furtive behaviour—"

"Why do you hate me?"

A beat of serenity yanks his attention.

"What do you mean, Miss Lee?"

"I asked, why do you hate me so much?"

You glance up at him, preparing your unfazed mind for his reaction to your reddened cheeks and nose, and the obvious streaks of tears down your cheeks. The muscles on his face twitch even if it was indiscernible to the moment, you study him; he reveals a speck of pity in his eyes, so pathetic for you to think he'd pity you.

"Sherri?"

His lips quiver so delicately, calling out your name in a sleek yet coarse voice. It was the first time he'd ever called out your name, enunciated each syllable in his utmost trepidation as if he really cared for you. That alone was enough to cause a havoc in your heart, dwindling it further down to your...maybe it was the way he spoke your name out, but you were definitely feeling a spark strike in your pussy.

"I do not despise you, Sherri," he softly murmurs, looking away from you for a long minute before trailing his pitiful eyes back on you. "If my actions have made you—"

"—you always belittle me, humiliate me in front of the class and pretend to act as if you do it all because you care." you ramble, "you don't care about my feelings! All you can think is how to make me fall from my grace. Isn't it?"

You shake your head and bring your hands up to wipe your tears off, which had uncontrollably gushed out of your eyes while you had your meltdown. Your tote bag falls onto the floor with a soft thud, and you pay no mind to it. The hyperventilation soon kicks in, suffocating your lungs with a want to break free from your chest, and your stomach littered with unwanted butterflies fluttering along. More tears slide out of your eyes, and you lose your capability to see clearer.

The dainty streaks of torment on your cheeks, your tears, and your flushed face was a huge turn on for him; he could not probably free himself from his fetish, but his philia for tears or anything remotely close to it, always excited his cock. He shifts in his seat, spreading his legs apart under the desk to free himself from the strain in his pants. Oh how badly he had been aroused, by just watching you cry.

"Sherri, you're mistaking my concern for bullying; fuck! Why would I want to torment or humiliate you in front of the class?" he questions, such dainty voice breaking your heart and making you feel pathetic to sob in front of him.

"Come here."

He lures you in with his soft voice, and a frail tug of his lips; his smile had already proved to be devastating to you and even the slightest of it can make you, his puppet. Without realising it, you're taking short strides around the table to be by his side. He has his hand extended in front of you, something you didn't quite understand until you hold it in hesitation, and he pulls you down on his lap.

You gasp, and then yelp when you land on his lap; at first you find yourself uncomfortable in his embrace but giving it a little time, you relax and settle down, still with a bit of unease. His arms wrap themselves around your waist and he leans close to rest his chin on your shoulder as you sit sideways on his lap. Ambiguous swirls of darkness cover his eyes, and your breath hitches trying to unravel his true intentions. Instead, you were starting to get comfortable with him.

"I do not resent you for who you are, Sherri," he begins with a whispery breath, rubbing your back as he does. "I resent myself for being so helplessly bound under your spell."

Your lips part open, your chest heaves up and down erratically to constrain your wildly pounding heart. Oh, you were gone, you most definitely were.

"Projecting my bitter disposition on you was a mechanism I sought to cope my untamed desire—the ugly desire to taste this forbidden fruit." Mumbling, he turns his head and traces his lips along your neck, kissing and sucking. "Holy fuck, this body of yours...those lips, you don't know how much I crave them."

His hands tighten around your waist, and you gasp for air, "Professor Jeong, this isn't ethical. You're violating the university policy...ah!"

He bites down on your neck, grabbing enough flesh in between his teeth to suck on it. That's going to leave a pretty purple bruise behind, all in its glory, on your neck—so fucking attractive to you.  Pressing down on a moan, you drag your hands to his shoulders, hoping to shove him off to disturb his grip on you. Though you thought. It wasn't easy to make him budge, he wasn't letting you go, and you were gradually falling into that realisation.

"I could lose my job," he whispers, chuckling softly, "I can fucking lose my job if I engage with you, if I make my vile thoughts a reality but I can't control myself any longer, I need you, I need to ruin you—I know you feel the same way about me. Don't you, Sherri?" he nibbles on your earlobe, his hot breath fanning your ear. "Aren't your intentions the same as me, huh?"

"No." you mumble.

"No?"

You shake your head.

He doesn't believe you.

"Sherri, oh you beautiful liar," he sighs, his lips now curling into a smirk, "didn't you think of something else when you were sucking my finger off, hmm?"

You pout, not wanting to answer or have him the satisfaction of being right; instead, you start shuffling on his lap to get out of his hold. Squirming in his lap, you press your butt against his crotch, accidentally touching his hardened cock. It continues to poke your ass, and his fingers dig into your skin when his hold tightens on your waist. You were making it worse, it was visible on his face in the form of quivering lips and shut eyes.

"Don't move...!" he warns you, pressing your lower body against his lap, keeping you fixed in one place. "You'll make me...fuck. You do this on purpose, don't you?"

You stop moving—well you had no choice but to when his brute strength was holding you down against him. "I don't. I haven't done anything on purpose."

Lying is so easy. But him believing it has to be easy too. Though at this point you knew you were teasing him.

"Sherri, don't lie." He peels his eyes open and takes a sharp breath in, "get on your knees."

You gulp. Knees? He wants you on your knees...? That's...really fucking hot.

Eagerly, you crawl out of his lap as he gives you the chance to, keeping his hands to his side. He repositions his chair in a way to face you, as you're kneeling down in front of him, by the side of the table. There's not much distance between you, and the dithered proximity makes your heart palpitate with anticipation.

What was he going to do?

Your mind raced with the possibilities. Was he going to shove his 'obvious' boner down your throat? Was he going to make you ride him? What was his hauntingly beautiful mind thinking about?

"An obedient teacher's pet, how adorable," he coos, stroking his hand over your head as if to pet you.

"Professor..."

"Shush...!" he leans over, closely watching you with his fervent eyes. Out of nowhere the warmth of his thumb engulfs of your cheek. "Not a sound."

Brushing his thumb across, he collects a drop of your tear and brings it close to his mouth. He wraps his lips around his thumb and gives it a good suck; his eyes intently fixed on yours, delineating his intentions. You nod your head and watch him straighten his back to relax against the chair. His eyes glance over at the door for a minor second before he fixes them back on you; with a lilting smirk, he grabs the wooden pointer stick from his table and slaps its tip on the palm of his other hand. The same hand rubs along the length of it until his forefinger traces the tip before holding it in his one hand.

You couldn't help but gulp again, feeling aroused by his hand, and the way it was pumping the stick to and fro. Lowering yourself on your calves, you try to squeeze your thighs together. You wanted to ease your muscles, wanted to rid yourself of the tightness in your cunt because you were beyond wet for him.

"Hands behind your back," he commands, and you oblige without hesitation. "I asked you to be on your knees for me..." he softly mutters, tapping the stick twice on the floor to get you back on your knees.

You do that too; completely unaware of his next move. He drags the stick from the ground to you, to the hem of your skirt and lifts it up—exposing your ruined panties to him.

"Tsk, wet already?" he heaves out a breath, "do I really affect you that much?"

"Yes," you swallow and mumble, "you do."

"Hmm," he muses, humming his words along later, "that makes me want you even more."

With his other hand he takes his glasses off and flings them on the table. He pushes the stick further up till your waist to completely expose your dripping wet panties and your cunt; he licks his lips at the sight, his instincts running wild in his mind. Your hands were perfectly slotted in the small of your back, tightly wound together to appease the tension.

"Ah..fuck," you groan when you feel the wooden stick rub your cunt; he had angled it in such a way that it kept your skirt from falling down and it also gave him enough access to drag it along your slit. "Please, professor, I want you."

Listening to you mewl, his smirk widens, and he slurs his words, "now you want me, Miss Lee? Un-fucking-believable."

He picks up his pace, letting the stick rub itself perfectly against your slit; your cunt clenches around nothing, aching to have something in between, something to fill you up. You writhe in desperation, shifting your weight from one leg to another. Unable to contain yourself, you start grinding yourself against the stick, upon noticing it, he halts his movements and watches you with amusement. Casing his lips into a pout, he traces his forefinger on his lower lip; he's contemplating, mirthfully watching you pleasure yourself on the stick. You bring both of your hands to the front, holding the stick to stabilise it before you increase the pace of hips grinding down.

"Aww, is my little brat getting excited?" he scoffs, shaking his head lightly.

You press your lips together and nod your head, closing your eyes shut to the budding pleasure crawling up your body. Second by second, your sanity shrinks to nothing, making you loosen your grip on the stick. From the corner of your half-lidded eye, you watch him offer you a conceited smile, clearing his intentions out when he pulls the stick from between your legs and slides it up to your chin. Tapping its tip twice to your chin, he gets your attention on him with your eyes wide in anticipation.

He spreads his legs wider in front of you, putting his cock on a glorious display as it tightens in his pants; the outline of his cock figuratively makes you swallow a thick gulp of air. Keeping your head high with the stick, he uses his other hand to palm his crotch, gently wrapping his fingers around his cock to give it a few half-hearted pumps through his pants. With a nudge of his head, he drops the stick to a side and gestures you to come close. Biting your tongue, you crawl towards him, your heart in your throat now. Maybe it was the anticipation, the eagerness to see him bare and under the griming influence of your pleasure, but you were slightly alarmed to find yourself slotted in between his legs.

"Let's get my brat what she wants," he whispers further shifting comfortably in his hair. "Such hungry eyes gawking at the sight of my cock," he grabs your jaw lightly and strokes his thumb under your chin. He tuts, "I get these looks a lot but there's something about you— something about the way you're drooling over my cock."

You let your teeth sink deep in your lower lip, while your lips twitch into a soft smile of amusement. "Am I turning you on, professor?"

You release your lip from your teeth's grip, and he watches it wobble in a daze while you lean close and place your hands on either of his thighs. Rubbing circles with your fingertips on his thighs, you take a deep breath to calm your nerves.

"If that wasn't the case you wouldn't be here, Miss Lee. Kneeling between my legs, ready to take my cock in your mouth, hmm?" he suggestively murmurs, dragging his thumb to your lips till he forces it in your mouth. "Now, open wide."

Using his other hand, he fumbles with the buckle of his belt. While he does manage to get it undone, you decide to suck on his thumb which was still fixed in your mouth; you lick around, blatantly ignoring his rugged skin. You hear him grunt ever so gently to your mouth wrapped around his thumb, tingling with excitement to know what it would be like to have this same warmth around his cock. Everything passes in a haze when he restlessly tugs down on his pants and briefs at the same time; you notice him take his thumb out of his mouth and instead he replaces it with his cock.

The reddened tip of his cock nudges against your lips and you open wide, lowering yourself down on his cock—though, only halfway considering his length would take you long to adjust to while the thick girth already made the corners of your mouth sting. He holds your neck, his fingers delicately splayed on the nape as he pushes you down, however he's mindful of you and how much you can take in. You start stroking the remaining of his shaft—which you would eventually have to swallow deep in your mouth.

"Fuck, you're driving me insane with your mouth, I might..." he trails his words off into a low groan, beginning to thrust himself into your mouth. "I'm not going to last long, am I?"

He taunts, digging his fingers into your skin as he pushes your head further down on his cock; his thrusts become too sloppy, and you don't pay much mind to it. You are too focused on widening your mouth around his cock to fit him fully inside. Feeling the tip of his cock brush against your throat, you almost gag; your throat tightens, and the suffocation starts sneaking up on you, but you push yourself through and sink lower on his cock.

"Fuck, such a good brat, taking me in so well," he whimpers coarsely, "but this little brat needs to be punished for making me break my rules."

You gaze up at him with your teary eyes, softening them as he looks down at you too. Nodding your head, you hollow your cheeks and bop your head up and down after adjusting to his size. Your fingers dig into his fleshy thighs, constraining your moans with his cock stuffed in your mouth, you keep staring up at him till a few drops of tears cascade down your cheeks. He brings his other hand to caress your cheeks, thumb stroking off the tears as he doesn't let go of your head. You're on the verge of gagging on his cock, choking even, but disregarding your gag reflex, he bucks his hips into your face and his cock slides further down your throat. Unable to hold onto your moans and whimpers, you try to make a sound—the vibrations send him reeling from pleasure, he throws his head back and tightens his hold on your neck.

"Can't make a sound because my cock is—your mouth is stuffed with my cock, isn't it?" he teases, closing his eyes shut to relish the wetness and warmth of your mouth. "Don't worry—I won't—I won't cum too soon. My brat deserves a little—a little bit of fun even if she's being pun—punished."

His stutter was absolutely beautiful, it showed how much of a mess he was with your mouth wrapped around his cock, engulfed in the devious warmth of it. Somehow, it gave you a sense of victory, a sense of peace to know you had gotten him on his edge with only your mouth and nothing else. The saltiness of his precum floods your mouth—it makes you retch a bit regardless of that, you continue sucking him off while his thrusts are slow and steady. In the meantime, he pulls his untucked shirt above till his chest and holds it there; he pushes your head further down on his cock, till your nose is pressed against his pubic bone and your skin feels ticklish from his trimmed pubic hair.

His chest is rising and falling at an alarming rate; he surely was a mess, and you liked seeing it. When you peek up at him with your still-teary eyes, you notice sweat covering his forehead, making his hair stick to his skin while his cheeks are flushed with a shade of red. How adorable. How fucking adorable. The ever so haughty and stoic professor was writhing under your touches, with how you lapped your tongue under his shaft and purposely sucked your cheeks in to make it tight.

In actuality, you were really driving him wild; his grip on your neck loosens a bit for a hot second and he uses that time to let his hand entangle in your hair. You didn't realise when you groped his thighs for support, even so, your nails had dug deep enough to leave behind crescent marks on his skin, the kind which would fluster with a brutal purple tint tomorrow. Grasping a proper hold on your hair, he pulls you back and frees his cock from his mouth; a vile 'pop' sound resounds in the room while he does so.

The moment his cock is out of your mouth, you gasp for air, you swallow huge lugs of air through your mouth and glance at him with dazed eyes. His thick and veiny cock was slick with your spit, shining softly under the lights while a few strings of your saliva still connected your lips and his shaft. Your drool had covered every inch of his cock and had also slithered down your chin. The sensation in your mouth was a little sticky and salty from his precum. You keep your mouth wide open and wipe off the drool using the back of your hand; he smugly chuckles, eyes on you like a predator.

"Need to take a break?" he taunts you, belittling your presence and you shake your head to a no. Leaning over, he cups your face in both of his hands and grazes his eyes along your chest and exposed thighs.

"Get up."

Again, his domineering voice forces you to oblige, and you get on your wobbly feet—feeling your throat sore and tight from his cock hitting constantly, you swallow enough amount of spit and try to wash the sting down. He notices it but doesn't say much. His hands slide down from your face and hold your waist as you stand in front him; without any doubt, he pushes your front against the desk and makes you bend over. One hand on the collar of your blouse, and other on the small of your back; he keeps you in that position while he takes his time to shimmy his pants and briefs down till his knees. He positions himself behind you, managing to push your skirt up on your back to expose your dripping wet panties and your cunt. Your wet panties were driving him wild; his breathing becomes even more ragged when he snaps at the waistband and pulls them down to your knees. He swallows thickly when his thirsty eyes lurk over your glistening wet cunt, clenching around nothing for the time being.

"This wet cunt is going to take in every inch of me...fuck," he curses his under his breath while he smoothens his hand on one of your buttcheeks. "But we can't forget about your punishment, can we?"

He flattens his palm against your ass, keeping you pressed against the desk with his hand on your neck; you whimper in anticipation and hold onto the edge of the desk till your knuckles turn while. Anticipation makes you wiggle your ass slightly, as you're on your tippy toes and perfectly bent over the desk.

"No, we can't," you heave out a shaky sigh, not able to control your excitement anymore. "How are you going to punish me, professor?"

You sneer in your seductive voice, slurring your words against your rounded lips to get a reaction out of him. Having your vision limited to the empty classroom and the workbenches, the exhilaration of not knowing what he was going to do, makes you even wetter.

Yunho knows how vile your mind is, he knows the wet patch on your panties continues to grow the more he teases you and honestly, he wasn't complaining. He liked it as much as you did, but he hid it well in his composed speech and relaxed movements.

"There's only one way to punish a brat like you," he grunts, slapping one of your buttcheeks, "count them."

So, you were getting spanked. Such a fitting punishment for a brat like you, by a professor too—why did it feel like you were trapped in a low-budget student-professor porn movie? You can't complain anyway, you were absolutely absorbed in the trance of your pleasure and his hands caressing your butt.

You nod and thus begins the punishment.

Slap!

"One," you mewl, feeling his hand burn on your skin.

Slap!

"Two," your breath hitches when you go to say it out loud, your skin stinging from his hand.

Slap!

"Thr—three!" you groan out loudly, the impact jolting your body against the top of the desk.

This one stung like a bitch.

Slap!

Without any warning, he adds one more spank to the same buttcheek before moving onto the other. He offers it a soft squeeze first, and then pulls his hand back and flattens his palm over it.

Slap!

"How many were those, huh?" he asks your mind fiddles with the remaining brain cells—how many were those? Really. How many?

"Si—six," you somehow manage to sputter, your spit falling on the desk in front of you.

"Good girl," he praises, rubbing his hand on your buttcheek before tracing it down to your folds. His fingers press and nudge against your folds until he rams one finger along your slit. Pushing down, wedging his finger deep inside, he watches your juices coat the length of his finger before he brings it to his nose to give it a good sniff. "I wonder if you're enjoying this punishment, pup. Are you? Are you enjoying this punishment...?"

First, your mind goes haywire when he teases you with that nickname. Pup. Well, you were turning out to be his pet, you might as well roll along with it.

Second, you were certainly enjoying the punishment, liking the way his hands were able to engulf your entire buttcheek at once.

Third, you're forced to slip out of your sanity when he aligns his cock with your hole and slowly sinks in. Your aroused juices proved helpful for him to slip right in. You suddenly start feeling full, the stretch of your walls subsiding into a soothing ache and then it sublimes completely into pleasure. Your desires were getting quenched; inch by inch your cunt swallows him whole, the burn on your walls now pacified by him. He doesn't move when he bottoms out, he keeps his cock sucked deep in you. Keeping one hand on the small of his back, he pushes your nimble body further against the desk—your back arches inwards and prodding your ass out for his easy access. 

"Fuck, such a tight cunt. Got no one to loosen it out, Miss Lee?" he smirks, grunting at the way your walls clenched around him and remains unmoving. "Don't worry, I'll fuck it loose—fuck," you tighten around him listening to his wispy words, "do you want me to, huh, pup? Do you want me to fuck you loose?"

"Yeah—yeah, yeah I'd like that," you murmur, your brain turned into a mush and your body shuddering as he slowly, very slowly, starts moving. He doesn't pull out completely, he keeps his cock buried deep in you and slides in and out at a leisure pace.

"Of course, my pup would like to get fucked senseless," he mumbles, slapping one of your buttcheeks again.

You were fully sure his hand was now printed on your skin in a bright red shade; the soreness didn't matter because the thrill was eating you up and turning it into bliss. Biting back a moan, you keep your breathing steady. Though, you feel your chest shatter entirely when he picks up his pace. Your fingernails start scratching at the varnish on the table, a bit of it getting stuck in them.

"Yes, prof—professor..." you groan, stuttering with his thrusts.

"Nuh-huh, for an obedient puppy like you, I'm your master," he slides his cock out, and rams back into you, letting it plunge deep, "what should you—should you call me, pup?"

"Master," you breathe out, exasperated. "Master, please go faster, fuck! Fuck me harder please, breed your little pup." You cry, genuinely letting tears streak down your cheeks; you were weak already, holding out till he would increase the rhythm of his merciless thrusts.

Something goes off in his head, his hips start snapping at an animalistic pace with your body thrashing against the wooden desk; his hands are all over you, touching you, caressing you, leaving his marks on you. Though, at a point he brings one of his hands to the curve of your back, while his other hand winds itself around your thigh. Seeming seconds drag on with his thrusts curt and sharp, his cock reaching deep in your cunt till you could feel it tauten in the pit of your stomach. Yunho could sense your walls clench around his cock, not liking it one bit—his thrusts start faltering, gradually coming to a halt.

Still buried deep in you, he leans over your back—inching close to your neck, he bites down harshly before whispering, "does my pup want to cum?"

You could discern the slyness in his voice, and you nod your head with your mouth agape, drool glistening down your lower lip and staining your chin. Bearing his size, tuning with his blunt thrusts, and the way his tip was abusing your sweet spot, it was all too much, sending you into a sensory overdrive. At this point, you had zero comprehensible thoughts in your mind except for the heinous acts you were weaving into your body: all of them being about your professor and his huge dick.

"Well, then my pup has to wait a little longer," he grunts close to your ear and then straightens himself up, "master isn't done with his pup yet."

"Can my pup wait a little longer?" he presses his hand down on your back, reluctantly making your walls clench around him.

You're left with no choice but to nod your head again, and it satisfies him; his gradually starts moving again, keeping his thrusts steady and slow. He lets you adjust to him again, and eventually increases his pace. Pulling and shoving himself into you, he starts bucking his hips into your thighs, his grip tightening till his knuckles turn white while you hold onto the edge of the table like your life depended on it. Your body oscillates to and fro, colliding and thumping with the wooden table with his every thrust. The sound of clothes crumpling, and the rattling of his belt buckle, makes your heart race harder in your chest.

You had never imagined you'd be caught in this situation; not that you didn't imagine or fantasise it, you didn't think it'd become a reality. Yeah, it's true that you had countless fantasises about your professor, one of them being fucked while you're bent over his desk—but the probability of him actually fucking you was one in a twenty, considering there were twenty female students in your class. Skin slapping against skin, his cock thrashing balls deep in your tight cunt, you were still mewling in your mind for more. The sensation was diabolical in a way, clustering your brain with unwanted thoughts—hell, you had lost it.

A known tightness tangles itself in your gut, your stomach cherishing the last bit of butterflies it felt before knowing you would flood down on his cock soon. Your senses drop, your stomach twists and knots, your heart runs a miles per hour because his thrusts were helping you chase your high. You were so sure he was going to let you take a break, let you ease out the tightness in your stomach; but to your unbridled surprise, he doesn't. His movements dither, slowing down till he comes to a stop again; he's still buried deep in you, and somehow that caused you more pain than his actual thrusts.

"Aww, my pup is too eager to get off," he mumbles, throwing his head back in pure bliss from your walls still clenched around him, but then he feels you loosen, and he starts pounding into you with a gentle tempo. "Not so soon. You're still getting punished."

He drags on for an hour or so, his thrusts stopping completely sometimes, his cock buried deep in your warmth—eventually he would pick up his pace and ram into your tight little cunt as if it was the last thing he wanted. You had been denied your orgasm a few times, counting it, you had been denied three times so far. Though that pleasure was turning into pain, your belly ached with every inch of strain his cock put on your cunt. Your stomach knots itself for the fourth time, your legs trembling and your yearning crossing your threshold to hold your orgasm in.

The familiarity only grows in your gut, your walls puckering around his cock to milk out his own orgasm; but he knows how to play it off well, he wasn't going to cum before you did. Pressing back into your thighs, he remains unmoving for a second before picking up his pace again, his cock plunges into the deeper void of your cunt, almost protruding the walls to your gut. You have lost your voice to make a sound, one thing—but the other thing was you weren't supposed to make a lot of noise. Swallowing your moans and grunts, you feel your high washing over; your walls tighten around his cock one last time before they're coming undone—releasing you juices all over his cock. Some of it squirts around as his cock still keeps plunging deep into you, a few drops stain his abdomen and get absorbed in his clothes, but he doesn't seem too bothered by it.

"My pup made a mess on my cock," he grumbles, closing his eyes shut as he helps you ease your cunt with a few of his concise and brief thrust. His thighs collide with yours, heat growing between your bodies and your skin slick from sweat and your orgasm. "Such a pretty pup, such a beautiful little baby..." he rambles on his own, incoherent and inaudible, but mostly it was him losing his mind over the trickling warmth of your arousal.

His thrusts become sloppy once he knows he's reaching his high; but he doesn't give out just yet. With a couple more longing and concise thrusts, he lets himself drive his cock deep into your warmth—he counts down the minutes with his ambling pokes till it becomes unbearable for him to hold out. Taking a deep breath and arching his back to let his cock plunge deep, he slides one of his hands on your lower back—pressing, pushing, digging his fingers and palm in your flesh, he releases himself in deep in you. With every thrust, he keeps pulling out till he completely slides out of you. He smirks at the sight his eyes behold, twinkling with a yearning no one knows, not even you; his load dribbles down your pussy, staining your skin in stark white shade, as some of it spurts on your inner thighs.

You're breathless, too fucked to understand anything and thus you couldn't register your surroundings quite well when he flips you over. Grabbing your shoulders, he pushes you down on the ground, having you kneel before him with his cock near your mouth. The veins on his cock were less bulged than before, but his shaft was coated in a thin layer of his cum and glints a bit with your juices.

"Clean me up, pup."

His order doesn't go unheard by you, and as the loyal little puppy you are to him, you hold on to the sides of his thighs and lean in to lick his cock off. At first, it's a weird concoction of saltiness and a little bit of sweetness, soon it fades to nothing. You lap your tongue around his shaft, over and under his tip till you've cleared everything off from his cock—you pull back, smiling dizzily because you were delighted to help him out. Half-lidded eyes trace a line up and you find him staring at down at you, his hand in the process to grab your jaw. Caressing your chin, he pulls you up on your feet and helps you sit on the desk before wrapping his arms around your waist to pull himself closer to you.

"Miss Lee," he whispers, "I'm sure the post-orgasm clarity is now sinking in both of our minds, but we certainly need to address the elephant in the room."

You lean forward to rest your head on his chest, closing your eyes shut for a moment, you take a deep breath in and relax your tensed muscles. "Professor Jeong...I've wanted this to happen for a long time."

"So, you have no regard for me losing my job, do you?" he teases, rubbing circles on your back to soothe you, "Lee Sherri, you really are a brat. Making me break my rules."

"What rules?" you grin, peeking up at him as your wrap your arms around his broad chest.

"I don't date my students," he murmurs, pecking your forehead.

"Who's suggesting you date me?" you chuckle, shaking your head, "we can be fuck buddies."

"Is that what you call it nowadays?" he laughs, heartily, pouting down at you as he continues, "we'll have to be really careful, Sherri. Can't have anyone knowing about us—"

Knock knock!

Your eyes go wide, your heart thumps in your chest and your lips start quivering in fear. On the other hand, Yunho is pretty tame, and he only offers you a reassuring smile.

"Straighten out your clothes and relax. It's no stranger, I've been expecting him actually," he mumbles, breaking apart from your embrace to pull his pants and briefs up.

Whilst he is buttoning his pants and buckling the belt, you too tug your panties up and hop off the desk. You try to smoothen out the creases on your skirt and blouse—your white lacy socks were stained with dust at the knees, but you didn't care about it. The clutter of papers on the desk remains as it is, neither of you bothered to organise it. Professor Jeong smiles at you warmly before heading to the door of the classroom, he unlocks the latch and pulls the doors inside to reveal another man with tall silhouette standing there. 

Professor Song.

"Since when have you been locking your doors, Yun?" the latter teasingly mutters and chortles, stepping past his friend and entering the classroom which reeks of sweat and sex. He sniffs the air and along the lines his eyes land on you, "ah. So, you were having "one-on-one" with your student."

Professor Song wasn't a professor from your department, he was the heartthrob of the physics department, seemingly the kind who would definitely not have any sentiments towards his students or anyone younger to him for that matter. Clad in a plaid shirt and khakis, he too had a body worth breaking the laws for; his toned biceps bulged out of the sleeves he had rolled over to his elbows, his thick thighs (which you've fantasied riding on) were defined by his tight khakis, and hazel eyes were piercing through you with curiosity.

"Miss Lee and I were just discussing, weren't we, Miss Lee?" Yunho calls out from behind him, tugging down on the crotch of his pants for some apparent reason.

"Discussing what?"

You shift your weight on your feet, standing an inch away from the desk (where you were just railed by your professor) and you pull down on your skirt, not knowing why you felt the need to. You eye your tote bag fallen down on the floor, then at the mess of your binder on the table, and one thing becomes clear which is you and Professor Jeong did fuck on the table.

"I was chiding her for not completing her experimental write-ups, Min," Yunho adds, scratching the back of his neck as he comes to stand next to him. "Miss Lee, we'll have a proper discussion about your careless behaviour next time, perhaps tomorrow. Now, you may leave."

You nod, "ye—yes professor."

Hastily, you sprint out of the classroom after gathering your things and stuffing them in your bag in a haphazard way; meanwhile Mingi rolls his eyes at his friend and scoffs.

"Lie to someone else, Yun."

"Fuck you," he grumbles before a conceited smirk takes over his face.

"If you keep your trap shut, maybe we can share."

[xjaylyn]

PART 5 - Bad Boys: Second Chances

Pairing: Armando x Black! OC (Rya)

Warnings: blood, graphic, guns, death, mature, language (use of the n word), and some other stuff I probably forgot about sorry

Summary: It's been two years since Captain Conrad was framed. Another mission brings the team back together and new relationships are formed. It's said everyone deserves second chances and room to grow. So maybe this is that second chance

A/N: Further down in the story, there are some graphic descriptions that will be warned with red text before you read. In the scene, there could be some triggering words and situations that may be sensitive to a reader, so read at your own risk, please. I don't want anyone to get triggered. This scene will be written in italics. It's not necessary to read for you to understand the story, so you can skip it if you want, but it does provide a deeper look into Rya's past that was mentioned in the previous part. Part 6 will be out tonightt!

(Armando photo creds to @yeahnohoneybye they be having all the good photos bless them😩🙌🏽)

...AMMO HEADQUARTERS...

"Alright, I organized all the files in the drive so we can understand everything when we look over it," Dorn huffs, sitting back in his chair.

After infiltrating the lab, the team headed back to the station to plan their next move. Sitting on the couch in the middle of the room, Rya picked at the little glass shards stuck in her still-cuffed hands. Feeling someone sit next to her, she looks up to see Kelly holding a first aid kit.

"I brought you the first aid kit... there's some tweezers and wound spray... thought you might need it," she says, setting the kit on the coffee table in front of them. Mumbling a small thanks, Rya picks up the kit for the tweezers. Noticing Kelly still there, she looks back up and raises a brow at the girl still staring at her.

"So... an assassin? Umm, that's pretty cool, almost lik—" Kelly starts to ramble before she realizes the deadpan look on Rya's face. Shutting her mouth, she stands up.

"Yeah, sorry, I'll just... leave you be," she nods, walking off back to the others.

Blinking down to her hands, Rya picks up the tweezers, gently taking out the small shards stuck in her skin.

"Ok, so for the really fancy restaurant you have to be on this list to get in, but I was able to work my magic and get Rya on there with no problem. So, we're on for tomorrow. It should be a smooth mission," Kelly says, smiling up at the team.

"Thanks, Kelly... well, I'm calling it a night. It's getting pretty late, make sure you all get some sleep. We got a busy day tomorrow," Rita says, waving at everyone before walking out the door.

"Yeah, it is getting late. We'll see you all in the morning," Kelly says, packing her things, Dorn right behind her doing the same.

"Oh, before I forget, Rya, if you ever need a therapist, I can give you my counselor's number. She's amazing; I really recommend it," Dorn says with a small smile towards Rya. She squints her eyes at him.

"Dorn... just... goodnight... let's leave the therapy talk for another time," Marcus says, waving him off.

"I'm just saying, therapy has helped me with a lot," Dorn says, with his hands up before leaving with Kelly patting his shoulder.

Mike gets up from his desk and walks over to Rya. "Alright kid, I can take these cuffs off since they ain't stopping nothing anyway," he says, grabbing her wrist to unlock the cuffs.

Rubbing her wrist, she can see a purple indent had formed from the cuffs cutting off her circulation. "Thanks," she mumbles.

"You can sleep here tonight. We have a pillow and blanket in that closet over there," Marcus says, picking up his car keys and pointing to a back corner.

"Yeah, we still have to tell our wives about a possible guest staying with us, so for tonight, you just have to stay here. Everything will be locked up, but you have the common room to use. We'll see where you'll be staying at tomorrow. You'll be good on your own?" Mike asks, looking down at the girl.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. I want to look over some stuff anyway," she says, getting up and walking towards the computers.

Saying their goodnights, Rya watched as the pair walked out the door, locking it behind them before waving one final time. Rya pulls up a chair and looks through the different files on the computer.

After an hour of clicking through a couple of photos and documents, she lands on an old photo of her family. She'd never seen the picture before... completely different from the image of them she has buried in the back of her mind, all smiling, naive to the tragedy awaiting them in the future... one she doesn't want to remember. Staring at it for a few minutes, she suddenly feels a pair of eyes on her.

Already knowing who it is, she leans back in the chair and turns her head. "We have a problem?" she asks sternly, raising her brow towards Armando standing by the double doors.

"I don't trust you," he says simply.

"That's fine... I don't quite trust you either," Rya says, crossing her arms, now turning the chair completely towards him.

Walking down the steps, "I recognize you... I couldn't figure it out before, but now I do," he states, stopping to lean on the middle table, looking down at the girl in front of him. "You almost killed my mother a few years ago."

Staring at him for a little bit, she tilts her head. "Your mother is Isabel Aretas, right?" she says more as a statement than a question, already knowing the answer.

"Well... seems like someone got to her before me, so," she shrugs, turning her chair back to the computer screen. Noticing he was still quiet, she looked back to see him glaring at her, clenching his jaw. "No offense."

Armando shakes his head before sitting in the chair next to the table. "I don't believe you completely went rogue... if what you say is true about him controlling you, then you still have some loyalty left in you," he says, crossing his arms.

"You're right... but couldn't the same be said for you? Some loyalty should be left to the cartel, you know... since they raised you," she says, raising a brow.

"The only person that raised me is my mother... I don't owe loyalty to anyone anymore."

"Your mother kept and trained you to do her dirty work, there's a difference," she deadpans the man in front of her. Ready for the conversation to end, she couldn't care less about his opinion because it wasn't his help that she needed; he was just there.

Noticing his expression change for a split second, she can tell the statement caught him off guard, but he quickly recovered. Armando gets up from the chair and walks towards the door. "You got one time to fuck up," he says, looking back at her. "I won't hesitate to utilize what my mother trained me to do."

Hearing the door shut, Rya stares at the spot Armando once filled. Feeling her eyes get heavy, she sighs and makes her way towards the closet in the back corner to grab a blanket and pillow.

Walking back to the couch, she passes the computer screen that still displayed the old family photo. Stopping for a second, she closes out the tab and makes her way to the couch. Laying down, she stared at the ceiling until her eyes closed.

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

*WARNING: GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS, NOT FOR WEAK STOMACHS, TRIGGERING SCENES AND WORDS COULD BE MENTIONED*

"Please... please... no more... please."

Strained pleas sounded from the man on the blood-stained floor. Another sound of ripped flesh and cracked bones could be heard, causing the man to cringe, close his eyes, and weep.

"Open your eyes," the uniformed man demanded before kneeling down next to the man, gripping a chunk of his hair, forcing his head up to watch the scene in front of him. His dead wife's body, covered entirely in blood, had open wounds all over her body as the suited man above her continued to mutilate her.

The man stands up, towering over her lifeless form, fixing his suit. Bloodied hands push his hair back from his face.

"What did I tell you would happen, huh?" the man huffs, staring down at the man.

"You thought you could betray me? And get away with it?" The man slowly walks to the man's beaten form.

"Kill me... please... don't do this to them... I betrayed you. I betrayed you... I BETRAYED YOU KILL ME DAMMIT," he begs, glaring back at the man.

"Oh... I was planning on that whether you asked me to or not," the man chuckled.

The grunts of the man flowed through the young girl's ears watching from the side. Both stared at the scene in front of them. One stood with dried-up tears and swollen red eyes, hiccups coming from her body every few seconds. Numbness flowed through her body. Slowly shifting her eyes from the scene in front of her, she looks at her younger sister sobbing in the uniformed man's arms. His gloved hand roughly covered her mouth to silence her, but it remained ineffective as you could still hear her strained screams.

She could feel her tears stream down her face, scared for what's to come. She could feel her body shaking, forcing the man holding her to tighten his grip to keep her still, causing a sob to form out of her body.

"Daddy, I'm scared," she cried for the bloodied man on the floor. She looks as her father's eyes meet hers. Her hero... the strongest man she knows... weak and scared on the floor. His lifeless eyes stared at her. All hope for her gone. She feels her body get tugged out of the room, her sister's screams flood her mind.

"Do as I say... and you and your sister will be free," the voice sounds through her mind.

She feels the heat of his rough hands caress her face, burning her cheek.

"Do as I say... and you and your sister will be free!"

*END WARNING*

Jumping up out of her sleep, Rya gasps while holding her chest to catch her breath. She can feel how damp her shirt is and her hair sticking to her forehead. Sweat covered her body. Feeling like her body is on fire, she hurries to push the covers off her completely, sitting up on the small couch.

Looking around, she realizes she is still at the station. Feeling her body relax, sitting there for a second, her hands grip the ends of the couch. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.

'Jesus Christ.'

She opens her eyes after a while. Furrowing her brows, she brings her hands up to her cheek. Looking down at her fingers, she notices a wet substance on them: tears.

Shaking her head, she gets up and makes her way to the water machine to pour herself a cup of water.

It’s been a long time since she has had that nightmare. It used to occur every night that first month, but then it suddenly stopped. The last image of her parents was something she buried deep in the back of her mind. That photo must have brought it to the surface. Looking up at the clock to see what time it is, the time reads 3:40 in the morning.

Looking back at the couch, she decides to make her way over to the computers to read over the files again. Not wanting to risk having that nightmare again. She couldn’t go back to that stage in her life... she refused.

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

Hearing the doors open, Rya's tired eyes looks up from the computer screen, watching Marcus make his way into the room.

"Good morning. You look like shit... didn’t we tell you to get some sleep?" he said, placing his plate on his desk, taking off his jacket, and looking over at the girl hunched over in the chair.

Rolling her eyes, she leans back in the chair, dropping her legs to the floor to stretch a little bit. "I got caught up," she yawned.

"Uh-huh... caught up in an apocalypse. How are you supposed to work your lady magic at the restaurant when you look like a walker from The Walking Dead?"

"Hey, leave her alone, Marcus. She does not look that bad," Kelly says, walking in. "Besides, that couch is not the most comfortable, so I can’t blame her for not getting any sleep." She looks over at Rya, mouthing, "Ignore him."

Shaking her head, Rya looks back at the screen in front of her, ignoring the comment from Marcus.

"DAMN, did you get in a fight last night while we were gone?" Mike says, walking into the room with Armando next to him, dropping his stuff in his seat. She can hear Marcus laughing behind her.

The sound of whistling can be heard as Dorn walks into the room. Saying good morning to everyone, he stops in his tracks when he sees Rya. "Heyyy Rya... rough night?"

Dropping her hand on the desk, she looks up from the screen with a huff. "Y’all got one more time to comment on my appearance," she says, fed up.

"Woah, don’t bite, walker. I don’t want the smoke," Marcus jokes, smiling with his hands up. He and Mike snicker at each other. "That was good."

"Alright, enough. Let’s get serious. We have a lot to do." Rita sighs, standing in front of everyone, causing them to change their focus to their boss.

"Today, Rya is going to get information from Sergio’s two best dealers. Dorn, I need you to make sure all of your drones are up and running. Kelly, make sure Rya’s necklace has audio and footage. Mike and Marcus, I need you two to make sure all areas are secure and that we have a safe exit for Rya in case she needs to escape. Armando, we need you for backup in case anything goes wrong, so be ready. Does everyone remember the plan?" She asks, looking at the team, all nodding their heads.

"Good... Rya... make sure to freshen up. We need you to look the part for this to work." She smirks, watching as the woman rolls her eyes before making her way to the locker rooms.

"Dammit, I left the dress for Rya to wear at my place, and I still have to fix her necklace," Kelly huffs, throwing her bag down.

"It’s okay, Kells. Armando can take Rya to get it when she’s out of the shower," Mike says, leaning back in his chair.

"I never said that," Armando huffs from the couch.

"Didn’t have to. Look, you two got to get along or at least tolerate each other so we can all work together," Mike says, looking over at his son.

The two stare at each other for a bit until Armando lets up and nods his head. "She has one chance."

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

'Well, this is great.'

Sitting in the front seat, Rya glanced over at Armando gripping the steering wheel, focused on the road. It’s only been 10 minutes of them together, and the ride was already intense. Taking a breath, Rya looked back out of the window, watching the buildings go by.

"I never tried to kill your mother," she starts. She can feel his eyes look at her for a second.

"You shot at her and missed, killing the person behind her," he said, staring back at her.

She scoffed at that before shaking her head. "That’s because I was aiming for the person behind her... trust me, if I wanted to kill her, I wouldn’t have missed... I never miss," she says, looking at Armando.

The two stare at each other for a second without saying anything. Realizing how long they were holding their stares, Rya lifts a brow at the man. "The road still exists, you know? I would watch it if you don’t want to get us killed." Breaking the eye contact, she looks back out the window.

"If I wanted to kill you, it would’ve been done by now and not in a car accident," he says focusing back on the road in front of him.

"Yeah, but I would’ve had to be on your mommy’s hit list for that to happen, huh?" She rolls her eyes.

Pulling over the car, Armando parks to take off his seatbelt and look at the girl in the passenger seat.

"I told you you had one chance. Bring up my mother again, and I will end all this shit."

Raising both brows, Rya looks over to Armando. "Nigga, I will have yo ass sent back to the fucking cartel in a body bag. You ain’t ending shit," she crosses her arms, looking at the man in front of her like he was crazy.

Huffing before closing his eyes, he sits back in the seat before calmly speaking, "Rya... go inside and grab the dress."

Looking past his form, she notices that they were in front of Kelly’s house. Squinting her eyes back to Armando, she unbuckles her seatbelt to get out.

"I’m going because I have to, not because you told me to."

"Ry-"

Before he could finish whatever he was going to say, she stepped out of the car and purposely slammed the car door. After a few minutes, Armando looks back up to see her walking back to the car bag in hand.

"Got the dress. Let's go," she said, not making eye contact with him.

Armando nodded and started the car, pulling away from the curb. The rest of the drive back to the station was quiet. When they arrived, Rya got out of the car without a word and headed straight into the station with Armando following behind.

"Well damn, what happened between you two?" Marcus asked, feeling the tension between the two as they walked in. Both of them ignored him and went their own ways.

"I ain't want to know anyway... damn," Marcus said, sitting back down. Looking over at his partner, he pointed back at where the two had been standing.

"Those two need some therapy, and I mean real-ass trauma-dumping therapy."

"Marcus, shut up," Mike said, shaking his head

Tag list: (lmk if you want to be added)

@blackgirlmagicforever @believeinthefireflies95 @wizewhispers @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful @sarcasticbitchsblog @maybepersuasivetom @d4rno @honggihwa @literallegendicon @ninacutebee16 @hannie-squirrel00 @themainacc @stressedmess-21

[stormblessed95]

Hi how are you fine I hope,...umm do you have a list of Manga or Anime that I could read or watch? If you have a list to start off with on your blog I would greatly appreciate. I used to read manga all the time but life happened so if you don't mind thank you...Happy Holidays.

I'm still new and haven't seen so much! Here is what I'll do, I'll give you a list of what I've seen and what I thought about it though!! It'll go like this:

Media Title (version I've seen it in, anime or manga, etc): my thoughts

and then you can take them as recs or not lol

Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood (anime): SO GOOD. It was the second anime I watched ever and it's what really got me hooked. Lol it's just pure good solid story telling and is just truly amazing in every way. I love it so much

Ouran High School Host Club (anime): it was fine. Lol good moments, funny moments, cute moments. Lots of weird ass tropes that I didn't love lol. Good palate cleanser but not my favorite and not one I continued to really spend time thinking about after

Demon Slayer (anime & manga): a new obsession after I watched it. I had to then go read it because I was obsessed with the story and couldn't wait. The most beautiful animation too. Tragic and hopeful and amazing. Made me cry a few times and does flashback so well lol

Yuri on Ice (anime): so good. So cute. So gay. I have posts on this anime on here from when I was watching it. Lmao I'll just link that here. I'm still obsessed.

Spy x Family (anime & manga): I actually read the manga first and then found the anime and it's just so wholesomely wonderful in every aspect. I love the story so much. I love the romance. The slowburn is so slow is painfully good. I ship it SO HARD. The domestic family life of a Spy, assassin and telepath is everything I didn't know I needed

Buddy Daddys (anime): 2 dude (they make a good ship too honestly lol) assassins accidental baby acquisition. It's as funny as it sounds with some surprisingly dark and sad and emotional backstories and moments. Just a really great time. Short and quick watch too. Link to my rec post too

The Yakuzas Guide to Babysitting (anime): it was okay. Lol cute and fun but nothing that stuck with me. Found this one off my Spy Family and Buddy Daddy's high while looking for something similar lol

The Ice Guy and his Cool Female Colleague (anime): cute and fun but man some of the episodes dragged and were a little slow. The romance was just okay too but had some really adorable moments

Sasaki to Miyano (anime): SO CUTE. God the whole premise is the BL romance and the slow burn is soooo slow but istg. The tropes are so good too. The importance to consent is beautiful. Literal BL tropes all over the place as the MCs is a BL fan and introduced his LI to BL lol my rec post here. And my post over a clip of the new movie too.

A Silent Voice (anime movie): excellent movie. Sad as fuck. I cried so much. Lol all the trigger warnings though. Please read the trigger warnings

Your Name (anime movie): excellent movie. I still think about it all the time. I just read a book that pulled inspo from this movie. I had tears STREAMING DOWN MY FACE at the end.

Sk8 the Infinity (anime): so good. So wholesome. So gay (it's canon gay, fight with the wall, I don't care lol) just a little show about skateboarding. Who knew it would be SO GOOD. My rec post. My matchablossom brain rot post

Naurto, Naruto Shippuden (anime): OBSESSED. I watched this show with my partner as part of his "I'm introducing you to anime" series he has for me. Lol and clearly he was going to introduce me to the classics. Yes One Piece and Bleach are on his lists for us to watch together too.

Haikyuu!! (anime & manga): Look, with this being the 3rd sports anime I watched, I'm convinced all sports animes create so many ships low-key on purpose. Lmfao in all honesty though, it's so good. Never in my life would I have imagined getting so invested into volleyball. But here I am.

Jujutsu Kaisen (anime and I'm starting the manga now too): IM SO OBSESSED ITS NO LONGER FUNNY AND THIS SHOW IS SO MEAN LATELY. I had to go buy the manga because I CANNOT HANDLE WAITING FOR NEW EPISODES OH MY GOD. WISH ME LUCK READING I GUESS My post

Bungo Stray Dogs (anime): I started this show for Dazai. Found him on TikTok. Stayed for the weird ass powers and the absolute utter nonsense that is this whole world. Nothing makes sense and we are all just here for the vibes. Yes I fucking love it, thanks lmfao My post

Link Click (donghua): started this on a whim because I got a random rec video on my algorithm and found it on Crunchyroll and I was told it was gay. There is so little gayness in the grand scheme of this show I felt so unprepared for what it was. Lmao I have never in my life had a show hit me so hard in my emotions off the bat EVERY SINGLE TIME. BUT ITS SO GOOD?? I told my husband I start each episode going "so how are you making me cry this time link clink??" The twists twist so hard it hurts, but in a way I love. I need the next season like now. my God.

Blue Eye Samurai (anime sort of): my NEWEST obsession. I NEED SEASON 2 PLEASE. I said sort of about anime because it is animated and it's set in Japan, but it's not from Japan so it's not really an anime.... Lol but it's on Netflix. It's not for children. And it's so good. Go watch it. Only 8 episodes. The story is immaculate. My post

Inuyasha (manga): read the manga and thoroughly enjoyed myself as a super fast and fun read!! Really just there a good time lmao

Yona of the Dawn (manga): SO CUTE and yet intense too. My sister put me on this one as one of the first manga series I started reading and I just ate it all up. If we ignore some of the weirder tropes it throws at you in the beginning, it's just fabulous lol I love it

Mo Dao Zu Shi (donghua): read the books, watched the donghua, watched the live action too lol. The brain rot is SO REAL. Like these characters live rent free forever. Thanks. You can find tons of posts for MDZS and TGCF(heaven Official's blessing) in my master list on my other blog @moonofthesurvivor

Heaven Official's Blessing (donghua): SAME AS MDZS THATS ALL LMAO

No. 6 (anime): loved it, sci-fi dystopian madness and so gay. My rec post here

Given (anime): so gay.... So sad.... So healing... That kiss though! That backstory! The songs are actually so good! I love that it's just a band full of gay people. My post here too

Magical Revolution of the Reincarnated Princess (anime): politics meets isekai (done well) meets lesbian romance, meets magical epic battles and showdowns, meets badass ladies saving the world. Literally everything you could want

Hunter x Hunter (anime): I am watching this one now and have been for a little bit. This is the current one I'm watching with my partner in his list of animes he wants to introduce me too. I'm having SO MUCH FUN with this one but I also am hurting a little. Lol yes he warned me about the ants. Yes I'm not having fun with this arc. Thanks for asking. I can report back when we finish 😂

And for those who will want to know yes, I've got lots on my list to still watch and work through. Lol I'm always open to taking more suggestions though too!!

[bleue-flora]

Fun fact: I actually rewrite and change whole scenes a lot. And last week when I lost hot water during the winter storm, in my longing to take a shower, I actually came across this old alternate version of a scene in Dreamcatcher… so as I sit here now, about to take a shower but ironically dragging my feet and dreading the work involved, I figured I’d share this fun little snip bit/blooper.

CONTEXT: Punz tending to Dream after he returns from Las Nevadas, injured and covered in slime.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Implied/Referenced Torture, Injuries, Profanity.

Punz rests Dream to sit on the bed before turning his back to grab medical tools. Thinking threw his next steps he voices clinically calm, “Dream, you should probably go wash off before we do anything about your injuries. Don’t want whatever that fucking slime is to like—fester in the wounds.”

He whips back around expecting an answer, but to his befuddlement Dream doesn’t reply, he just sits there looking at the floor. His eyes unfocused and clouded over, as if he isn’t seeing anything at all.

“Dream? Dude, you with me?”

“Oh right. Umm… I—I… Does that really seem necessary? I mean—it’s really just some scratches you know. Not really a big deal…” Dream mutters out almost desperately, not lifting his head.

Completely caught off guard, Punz sounds back stunned and confused with hints of worry, “What? What the fuck did you just say? Dream, surely you can’t be stupid enough to say that? Dude, we don’t have any idea what the hell this shit is. It could be dangerous. And letting it into your open wounds is not something I want to fucking experiment with.”

Punz, assuming he has convinced the man, turns back around and continues to organize and scrimmage for what he needs, not noticing that Dream has neither responded nor moved an inch. It’s not untill he goes for the enderchest that he catches a glimpse of Dream in the corner of his eye. He’s startled a bit at the sight of Dream completely still not fulfilling his request. Punz immediately stops noisily clamoring around with the supplies and spins around.

“Dream? Don’t be fucking stubborn with me. I’m really not in the mood, I’m already pissed that I couldn’t be there. Please just let me help.”

Dream doesn’t stir.

He just sits there facing the floor, shaking almost imperceptibly. His breath coming out in an uneven worrying manner. It’s at this point Punz finally realizes he might of fucked up.

“Dream?… buddy? You with me? You ok?… I’m here dude.”

The caring tone seems to break whatever trance Dream was in as he surprisingly admits, hushed and almost inaudible, “I—I can’t, Punz. I just can’t. You are right… but I—I can’t do it. I’m—I’m so—“

Not wanting to hear another fucking apology leave his lips, Punz cuts him off and asks softly, “What—why can’t you do it, Dream?”

Then noticing Dream’s breathing getting hitched at the question he adds, “Is it… Dream, is it like something—something Quackity did?”

Dream wavers then slowly nods still not looking up.

Right. That makes sense. Fuck. He’s an idiot. Of coarse Dream would have a hard time being under water. That’s a given. Hell, he even avoided showers for a week or two after he drowned to death in one of their tests. Oh god. How could he be so fucking stupid?

The revelation and implication crack into his rib cage and crush his heart a little bit. He didn’t know he could feel more guilty and outraged by the whole thing. But damn Dream can’t even take a shower for fucks sake. Not that he can blame the man in the slightest.

“Fuck… Right. Ok. That’s fine. We can just like clean up the best we can without it.” Punz responds encouragingly.

(for the rest of the scene and the version I actually went with check out Dreamcatcher)

[citadelredlightdistrict]

writing prompt: Lilo is 18 years old now, and wants Stitch to be her boyfriend. She does not realize how rough of a lover Stitch can be, but she takes it like a champ.

Lilo takes a deep breath as she prepares to enter the room, listening to Stitch on the other side of the door as he laughs at a video. This was it, after so many years she was finally going to do it. She remembered back to when she'd first broached the issue with Nani several months ago to ask her advice. Lilo walked up to Nani as her sister washed the dishes and cleared her throat awkwardly. "*ahem*, Hey uh Nani? Can I ask you a kind of umm, sensitive question?" Nani smiled as she guessed what the issue was, she'd noticed Lilo looking at lingerie when clothes shopping lately, coupled with her growing interest in makeup and perfume and it wasn't exactly difficult to put together. "Oh I suppose I can answer a question or two, if you help me with the dishes." Lilo sighs and after a moment nudges her sister to move over so she can help. "Alright fine. So if I want to get a boy's attention, I mean in a you know... s-sexual way, I mean we already like each other and I want to take things to the next level, how should I, do that?" Nani gives a low whistle as she thinks about the bomb Lilo had just dropped, well if they already like each other then are they already dating? "From the sounds of it Lilo, you're already dating right?" Blushing brightly Lilo gives a slight nod, not saying anything to avoid lying to Nani. "Alright then, first you'll need to introduce me to the lucky boy. I know our home is a bit hectic but if you're planning to do the deed with him then I'm going to need to meet him at some point. Second buy protection, and use it! I know some boys like to say that it isn't comfortable or it doesn't fit them, tough. Make them use it or don't do it." Lilo groans and flicks water at Nani. "Duh! What kind of idiot do you think I am!? Come on Nani seriously! I want to take things to the next level what do I do?" Nani just laughed before telling her about what she'd done for David back when she'd gotten tired of him not taking that final step. So here she was, Lilo was dressed in a sheer red bra and lace panties, a small slit in the panties gave easy access to her freshly shaven pussy, a precaution so that Stitch wouldn't tear them off. She of course had ignored the advice to use protection, after all it's not like Stitch could impregnate her, and she knew he was clean after all. So with a final breath she opened the door prepared to do exactly like her sister had told her.

Stitch looked up from his show, his laughter stopping instantly as his jaw dropped to the floor, staring at Lilo as she slowly walked over to him, dropping to her knees in front of him and crawling over until her lips were mere inches from his own. Lilo: "Hey there Stitch~, I hope I'm not interrupting anything~." Stitch silently shook his head, his body tensing up, his nose flaring slightly as he took in her scent. A primal trigger left in his genetic code, dormant for all these years awakened for the first time, igniting a need inside of him that he'd never known before. Lilo smirked slightly to herself as she saw how stunned he was, leaning forward to whisper into his ear. "I was thinking that we co-" She was cut off abruptly as Stitch reached up grabbed her head and shoved her face into his crotch, a rapidly growing cock forcing its way into her mouth and down her throat without warning. Lilo: "AGH! GLG MMMHGL CHK!?" She was caught entirely off guard as her usually kind and gentle friend suddenly started to fuck her face like a cheap onahole. She'd hoped to eventually get to tasting his cock sure, but the last thing she'd expected was for him to suddenly force himself on her, he wasn't even speaking, acting more like an animal than he'd ever done before. She desperately slapped his legs and tried to pull away, the sudden lack of oxygen quickly catching up to her. Stitch: "IH IH IH AHH~! HA HA HA HA!" All Stitch did was laugh as he felt her struggles, pounding harder and harder into her throat until suddenly he slammed his hips against her face, his palls slapping her chin as they tensed up and pumped what felt like a pint of cum into her. The alien cum sent powerful shocks through Lilo's body, every muscle suddenly tensing up as cum was pumped down her throat and out her nose, some unknown chemical in the cum igniting the pleasure center of her mind like nothing else. Lilo: "MMMMHHH~!" Stitch pulled his cock out of her mouth almost as suddenly as he'd started fucking it, barely a minute having gone by since she'd crawled over to him, and already she had his cum dripping out of her mouth, splashing over her face and dripping onto her breasts. She coughed roughly as she desperately tried to breath, her own climax still fresh in her mind as the lingering effects of the cum continued to send shocks of pleasure through her. "ACH, *cough*, ohhh~ f-fuck! S-Stitch, wait, I don't, hey!?" Stitch didn't wait to hear what she had to say, every instinct in him screamed at him to lay his claim on her and to do it now. Designed to be a one man apocalypse on any planet he was dropped on, Jumba hadn't neglected a single aspect of his design. He'd designed Stitch to dominate and breed any female of any species that presented themselves as a potential mate. Though since meeting Lilo and forming their found family Jumba had been slowly introducing suppressive chemicals into Stitch's food, but he'd figured that the gene would stay dormant after introducing Stitch to porn a year ago without any reaction from him. As it happened, Jumba was wrong, the gene hadn't effectively died off, it had just been waiting for a more explicit and available prospect. Now with Lilo here in front of him Stitch didn't plan to stop until he was wrung completely dry.

He grabbed Lilo by the shoulders and shoved her onto her back, positioning himself between her legs as he started to lick at her exposed belly and tits, using his tongue to rip off her bra. "Ahh~ S-Stitch~! Ahh, I-I don't, ahh, that was expensive~! Oh fuck, y-your tongue is, ahh~! A-AHHH!" Lilo's eyes went wide, her mind completely losing track of his tongue on her breasts as he shoved his now massive cock inside of her pussy, stopping only as what felt like a large ball of meat slammed against her pussy lips, stopping his tip just before it could press against her womb. "T-too big! Stitch! Ahh~! T-too big! What is, what is, is that a knot!?" Sure enough as she looked down to see Stitch fucking her like a common whore, she saw a large knot at the base of Stitch's dick, and saw as a little bit more of that knot was forced in with every thrust. Her pussy was being reformed, forced to mold to his dick, with every thrust, every slap of his knot against her lips, she was slowly being made into his perfect slut. Lilo: "Ahhh~! Stitch! Ahh~! Too, oh fuck! M-my vagi- my pu-pussy~! Ahh~! S-stop! I can't, ahh think~!" Stitch's fingers dug into her thighs, his tongue lapped at her breasts, and he ignored her pleas. After several minutes of pounding he finally managed to force himself fully in, and with an audible *POP* his knot was locked into her pussy, and her fate was sealed as he started to cum inside of her. A single load down her throat had made her cum, wiped her mind for several seconds, now after a rough pounding and having his knot locked in her pussy, spurt after spurt of cum washed into her, and wiped her mind clean. She couldn't think of anything, couldn't speak, all she knew was pleasure, she was his, now and forever, she'd be his slut, his girlfriend, and the mother of his children.

(So what do you think? Did I write a passable short story for you? There is a text limit on these posts, and I don't want this to become a multi-part thing. I think I explained it all well enough that it makes sense why he snapped like he did and just started fucking her, but hey, let me know what you think.)

[alexblakeisgay]

Between the Blues and the Pinks (Ch. 1)

Ship: Alex Blake/Emily Prentiss

Summary: The Baby Blues: The temporary feelings of sadness following having a baby. Also known as Postpartum Depression. The Baby Pinks: The mild mania experienced following having a baby. Also known as Postpartum Euphoria.

Warnings: Mental health issues, postpartum mood disorders.

Word Count: 574

Author's Note: First of all, I would like to warn anyone who reads this that this will not be a happy fic. It's going to deal with mental health issues and it's going to get kind of dark. It does have a happy ending, no one dies, everyone gets better...but it goes through a pretty grim place to get there. I'd suggest erring on the side of caution if that kind of stuff triggers you.

Tagging: @ssa-tahlia-obsessions bc I promised her a chapter of something today.

Alex fidgeted in her chair. Not because it was uncomfortable...though it was. Not because the baby was pressing against her ribs...though it was.

It was because of her therapist's expectant stare.

It had been exactly eight and a half minutes since either of them had spoken. Alex knew because she'd been watching them tick by and wishing they'd move just a little faster.

In spite of herself, Alex blurted out, "Your clock is two minutes and seventeen seconds slow..."

Her therapist – Dr. Tara Lewis – asked, "Alex, is there a reason you're avoiding the question?" She raised a curious brow, flicking her pen back and forth.

"What was the question again?" Alex asked meekly. She'd been so caught up in timing the slow clock that she'd forgotten.

"I asked why you think it is you're not excited about your twenty week ultrasound..." Tara repeated herself.

A beat.

"Oh..." She heaved a sigh, remembering why she'd been avoiding the question in the first place. Unfortunately for her, though, she'd more or less run out of excuses. "I suppose...it's because I'm afraid of what the doctor will tell me," she confessed.

Tara nodded. "And why is that?"

"Because of Ethan," she said softly.

Tara nodded, wrote a note in her ledger. "Ethan's condition wasn't apparent on ultrasound?" she asked. When Alex nodded, she continued, "What makes you think this baby will have Ethan's condition – or, indeed, any condition?"

Alex began gnawing at her cheek until she tasted blood, reticent to say. But she knew that, ultimately, she needed to be honest... "Because I don't deserve a healthy baby."

Tara began writing furiously. After a moment, without looking up, she said, "What happened to Ethan is not your fault and the universe – or whatever you might believe – doesn't dole out cosmic feedback like that."

"It was my fault, though," Alex insisted, "I carried the defective gene. It's my fault he died."

Nodding, Tara suggested, "My advice is that you discuss this with Emily. And together, you should discuss amniocentesis."

"I'm upstairs!" Emily hollered when she heard the front door open and close. But before Alex could come to her, Emily appeared at the top of the stairs, wearing her painting clothes. At Alex's quizzical look, she teased, "I figured it was faster to come to you..."

Alex smiled softly for the first time that day.

Coming down the stairs, Emily met her in the foyer, stole a kiss. "How was your session?"

She'd kind of been hoping Emily wouldn't ask, even if she knew it was inevitable. "It was good," she said, a half-truth.

Emily smiled encouragingly. "It's helping?"

Alex nodded. Another half-truth. "She, umm... She suggested we talk about doing amnio," she stammered.

"I think we should do it," Emily immediately agreed.

Her brows leapt up her forehead. "Really?"

Emily nodded. "If it will give you some peace of mind, I think it's worth the risk." Alex seemed a little surprised by her sudden agreement. "Al, I know this is a huge part of what's been troubling you about this pregnancy and if this is going to help, I say we do it. I'd do anything to make this easier on you; if I could go back in time and wave a magic wand to undo my uterine scarring, I'd carry the baby for you."

Smiling fondly, Alex kissed her again. "It's things like this that make me fall for you all over again."

[deltaheartsstuff]

Side projects (Break in fanfic)

this is a brute origin story. Know the brute might just be a strong dude but wanted to make this for the heck of it.

The brute i had given the name Drake and Mary i had given the headcanon of having more experiments than Larry. This might get a sequel later.

trigger warning for drug usage.

It had been around 2 months since Mary started her experiments on Larry, she hadn't been holding back on him at all. Frustrated with him denying her human test subjects for years including entertaining there fake love it felt good to let it all out on him.

One day though after she was letting Larry rest after a hard day she began to think to herself, Larry is a big project of hers but she was thinking what if she had smaller projects, not only to test out methods for Larry to not kill him but also maybe to make her minions stronger. She had been testing on animals such as rats but decided it was time for more humans.

First thought was the cook Mateo. He is around there age and he was Larry's best friend and even though he was the bases personal cook he could still hold his own Larry even taking him with him when the purge started sometimes. She had considered doing tests on him due to him also nearly being killed by the family that defeated Larry but decided against it. He had already demoted to staying in the kitchen full time and she could admit she liked his cooking to much to risk killing him. Though he was still in mind incase he tried anything.

Instead she went to the gym and looked at the mobsters training there. Observing them on the treadmills and lifting weights one member caught her eye though, it was a man named Drake.

He was a man in his 20's and he was one of the stronger mobsters. Drake had a dream of becoming a wrestler and had been training and working out in his teen years and been going to after school programs and even summer camps to accomplish this dream of his. However after his parents went into debt with the mob they basically sold him to them to save themselves.

Drake while he was reluctant at first became one of the more respected members. He was aloud to keep training at there gym and he does it whenever he had free time.

After Larry's defeated though he had been training more at the gym than ever. Some of the mobsters spreading rumors that he blames himself for Larry's defeat, Larry treated him better than his parents ever did so he was upset at what happened to him.

This however gave Mary an idea, she went over to Drake just as he was finishing up his work out drinking a bottle of water. The mobsters seeing Mary walked by decided to leave when she tapped him on the shoulder.

"Why hello... Drake was it?"

Drake chocked on his water when he noticed her. "OH- shit- uh hello- ma'am---"

"Don't need to be so formal! Just call me Mary!"

"Umm... alright but... uhh what do you need."

Drake was becoming visibly nervous which kind of annoyed her. When Larry was leader alot of the mobsters liked him alot, while there are mobsters that like Mary some are afraid of her after seeing what she had been doing to Larry.

She kept a calm dimeter though. "So.. Drake you know what we had been doing to Larry and i was thinking of doing it to more people. And was thinking

Drake had become more worried "Umm... but isn't... Larry being tortured......"

"Tortured??!? No! No! We are fixing him! Making sure he never loses a fight again!!"

"But... some of the guys brag about it.. about how they made him scream and how he cried."

"Oh- well they were probably just joking- and besides yeah ill admit it probably is hurting him.. but its for his own good. Let me remind you he was almost killed out there this way he'll be safe during the next purges. and if we do the same to you and others maybe they'll be safe to."

"Couldn't i just keep training at the gym here??"

"You could but that's takes a long time! Besides who knows the law could eventually find this place and it's better to be ready sooner than later."

Drake began to think for a moment than he sighed. "fine..."

Mary smirked. "Alright come on lets get started!"

"Wait- Now???!"

"Yup!! Come on!!"

Before Drake could object Mary grabbed him and started forcing him to walk along with her. He may have been strong but Mary was stronger than him. He looked to the other mobsters for help but they ether have him a smirk or a look of pity.

Mary made him go deeper into the base. He had been down in the base before, it had the medbays for the injured and Mary's lab was there were she use to just make weapons but now there was a new area currently being built. Mobsters were currently building new rooms, they were jail cells.

The mob took hostages before but they would ether just be locked in a spare room until they ether had there ransom paid or worst case scenario killed. Larry didn't like holding people prisoner for a long amount time due to a fear if they were to ever escape there base would be discovered. As well as the worst he thought the mob should do was kill people in there way. Though of course since he was no longer leader stuff like that is being considered.

They eventually got to her labs, Larry in the room and was on a mattress on the ground, leg being chained to the ground. He was trying to get some sleep after the day he been through but was awoken up when the two came in.

"Mary??? You said there was no more today..."

"Oh don't worry its not you this time."

Mary gestured towards Drake, Larry's eyes widened. "So- guess I am not the only one dealing with your crap."

Mary chuckled "Oh Larry when will you learn you're not the center of the universe. Besides Drake here agreed to it unlike you! "

Larry looked towards Drake. Drake didn't know the full picture of what they had been doing to him but seeing him now. He looked like a shell of his former self, any joy he had was gone now replaced with a look of pain and despair.

Drake was slowly moving towards the door but Mary stopped him. "There's no turning back now Drake!! You agreed to this."

"Mary leave the kid alone!!! You don't need to do this crap to him!!"

"Oh don't try to act like you have a moral compass all of a sudden!! Besides what i have planned for him won't hurt as much." Mary looked at Drake. "And it won't hurt as long as you don't make it difficult"

Mary's glare struck terror into him as he just reluctantly nodded and sat on the chair, the same one were Larry had his experiments done on him. Mary got out her box of chemicals and brought them.

Larry stood up. "MARY DON'T-"

"I suggest you shut up unless you want to be sleeping hanging from wall again."

Mary turned her attention back to Drake who was tensed up. Unlike with Larry she decided to put rubbing alcohol on him, he noticed this and was shocked but didn't say anything due to not wanting to hang from the wall. Drake closed his eyes and yelped as he felt the chemicals going into his body.

Mary stood back he shock a bit, before he stopped.

"So how- how are you feeling??"

"I- i feel.... better than expected. i guess..."

"Great now!! Ill be honest that's just a little sample of what's next to come. I'm gonna have to discuse some details before we continue ahead. So far why don't you stay in one of the new rooms being built!"

"You- You mean the jail cells??"

"I wouldn't call them that!! I would say guest rooms or patient wards. Besides its just incase something happens to you!"

".... fine..."

Mary helped Drake up and he lead him out to some of the mobsters and told them to take him to one of the cells. After that he went back to the lab were Larry was.

"So! Larry... since im going to be doing more side projects good news they'll be more days where you can get breaks!!"

"Wh... so Drake isn't going to be the only other one.... Why??? Why Mary??? Drake doesn't deserve this... No one else does.."

"The better question is why do you seem to care???"

"I... Just want to know.."

Mary knelt down and smirk. "Because I'm doing what's best for the mob and you can't tell me what to do anymore..."

Larry wanted to speak more but he didn't have it in him to fight her.

"Oh by the way we're continuing your experiments in the morning so get some sleep!!."

She than left Larry to his thoughts. A smile on her face thinking of all the other experiments she can do now. Larry laid down, not knowing himself why he felt sorry for Drake and the future victims of her but he did his best to just try and sleep it off knowing the next day is going to be hard.

[boysbeloving]

okay so i've watched 11 episodes of LITA in 3 days and have much thoughts/comments to share

this post is technically for @skamskada (coz you would just NOT stop sending me pics of payu person in my DMs [♥️] and that's what made me finally watch the show....and...this would be too long for our chats lol) but all y'all can give it a try too! <3

the payu-rain arc opening credit song is really good actually... i....quite like it

payu person's voice is so soft and nice and sweet!!!!

YOU DID NOT WARN ME ABOUT THE CRINGEFEST THAT IS PAYU SINGING TO RAIN IN THE KITCHEN!!! i fast forwarded that section....i just couldn't sit through it good god....come to think of it, i skipped zee singing in cutie pie the series too...i just couldn't take it lol..second hand embarrassment is too strong... (i love when nunew sang in the series...also..it made sense in the plot..and he has an angelic voice...umm...same with nanon in bad buddy...i didn't cringe at his singing...and ofc jeff and barcode were also fine in kp....all these guys are singers irl anyway and them singing fit the plot of their respective series....but i don't think i'd be able to handle anyone else singing in bl series) payu person sings well though! maybe if he has uploaded some covers etc on youtube i could listen to those??!! does he sing sing?

what was the whole kidnapping plot?? i was laughing at it a bit lol

also...unpopular opinion maybe but i feel payu person needs some more acting practice when it comes to emotions like anger or frustration, etc. he...seemed to struggle to convey it convincingly with his eyes and dialogue delivery and body language...but this is a personal opinion

rain person acts well! he's got all emotions pat down...and he portrays cuteness and annoyingness very convincingly

PAYU'S HAAAAAIIIIRRRRRR....just...PAYU'S HAAAAAIIIIRRRRRR

OMG PAI-SKY IS SOOOOOOO GOOOOOODDDDDD LIKE WTF EVEN???!!!!

i LOVE the storyline....the actors are BRILLIANT and they look so good together????!!!! i enjoy their chemistry

sky person acts SO well....whenever he's triggered i can't stop myself from crying i feel A LOT for him :(((( and i LOVE it when he's not giving any fucks to Pai lol! and when he turns it on OMG IT IS MOTHERFUCKING ON

i love sky person's eyes <3 they are.....such a pretty colour...esp when the sunlight hits them in the scene where pai-sky are by the side of the road after they've had breakfast (me being struck by sky person's eye colour reminded me of me being struck by brian kinney's [or gale harold actually lol] eyes in the light...and ....it intrigued me so much! i also ABSOLUTELY love misha's and jensen's respective eye colours and cillian murphy's eyes too uuuufff AND luca marinelli's eyes...wowoowowwow)

the sex scenes were AWESOME!!! the moans, the dialogue, the looks, the MOVEMENTS, brilliant brilliant brilliant! very very special shoutout to 2 lines: a) payu saying "i'll make you the best rider" in episode 6 sex scene and b) sky saying "p'pai hurry up" in episode 11 sex scene....THE WAY THESE DIALOGUES WERE DELIVERED AND THE NEEEEEEDDDDD DRIPPING FROM EVERY SYLLABLE UUUUFFFFF (i have gone back and listened to these 2 lines in particular many many times...they just do it for me)

ngl i'm very invested in the pai-sky storyline but if a short scene of payu-rain comes in the episode i'm suddenly hit by how much i miss seeing them!

i really like the actor who plays Sig...he generally plays comic relief characters? he was in cutie pie too...I REALLY LIKE HIM....it seems he improvises a lot and is very competent at it...he can pick up on the energy of the scene and the dynamics of the characters and fits himself into it SO WELL (and sometimes also takes the lead in navigating a scene...like the thread tying ceremony) not intrusive but also leaves a lasting impression....also..his face is nice :) if i'm not wrong i think he's starring in an upcoming sci-fi bl as a lead! good for him...well deserved <3

i like the siblings....payu's brother saifah and pai's younger siblings too...they're sweet

the sound editing of the series is....so bad! omg i can hear every movement of the shirt and sometimes the voices get low and sometimes loud like what is happening oh no..it's annoying :(

as an armpit enthusiast (among others) i'm also very disappointed by the lack of armpit exposure...i have found only 3 scenes with decent full armpit exposure...i'm hoping this will get rectified in the remaining episodes (how many are there in total anyway? 14?)

i haven't watched any reality content of the LITA boys but you've told me time and again that payu person is really cute.....<333

i'll maybe slowly make my way through all that stuff...i think i'll enjoy watching all of them

[touyaz]

the place I'm staying at rn doesn't have shower curtains and I js know bachira would dig that an unhealthy amount <33

[christopher-bangnaldoskzz]

Jeongin and y/n being their first to each other 😪✊🏼

I.N x reader

Genre: SMUT SMUT SMUT ALERT

Word count: 1.7k

Trigger warnings: loses virginity, fingering, protected sex, penetration, blow job, ball play, riding dick.

IF YOU ARE UNDER 18 DO NOT READ!!! 

MY INBOX IS OPEN TO REQUESTS 

SHIT SHIT SHIT, you forgot you're clothes in your dorm. You wrap the towel around you and check the hallway for people. The coast was clear, and you ran down the hallway, looking back to check once more you were in the clear. As you turn the corner on the home stretch to your dorm, you hit what felt like a wall knocking you to the ground.

"Oh my god, I am so sorry" you hadn't even noticed your towel was undone. You look up as he turns around, and his eyes widen.

"Umm, excuse me", and he looks at your naked body up and down. You follow his eyes down. You quickly cover yourself. The embarrassment you felt was something you can't explain, your hand were shaking, and your face was as red as a tomato.

"I am soooooo sorry" you close your eyes in shame. If you can't see him, you hope he will just leave.

"It's okay", he laughs ", not what I was expecting walking back to my dorm tonight….but umm, you are really pretty" you opened one eye just to see what his face looked like. He was smiling awkwardly with one hand massaging the back of his neck.

"Did you really just call me pretty" looking at him. His face, too, was red. This was too awkward. You needed to get back up.

You get up off the floor this time. You are so careful as not to flash him again. You find him still staring in shock at you. "I, umm, have to go" you walk off quickly, your dorm only two doors down.

"Shit, it's locked," you say under your breath. You start knocking, knowing your roommate is inside.

"Amber, open up", you can hear a man's voice.

"Amber do you have a guy in there" she doesn't answer, but you can hear her giggling.

"I think my roommate is in there with yours" he smiles as he looks for his keys. "Did you want to come in…I can give you a T-shirt."

You didn't really have an option, so "sure, thank you, that would be amazing" you did think about getting your clothes from the bathroom; however, they were absolutely soaking from all the rain.

"Here, come on in" he smiles as he swings open the door.

He walks over to his cupboard and pulls out an oversized T-shirt.

"Here, you can wear this. I'll grab some shorts" he walks over to his drawers and pulls out some soccer shorts. "They may be a little baggy sorry" he places them on the bed.

"I'll turn around. You let me know when you are ready, okay" he faces the wall. You are so hesitant to put on the clothes. They smell so lovely and clean. WHO IS THIS GUY?

You unwrap your towel and quickly throw on the shorts and shirt. "Okay, you can turn around now" he slowly turns and gulps.

'I'm jeongin, by the way" he was trying to change the subject. It was cute, honestly.

"Y/N….. thank you for the clothes."

“Please make yourself comfortable”, he says, pointing to his bed.

“Haha, thank you” you sit on the bed, and he comes to sit on the edge.

“I'm sorry I’m so awkward. I’ve uh never had a girl wear my clothes before. He does an awkward smile.

“I've never worn guy's clothes before” you look down, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“Did you maybe want to watch a movie?” He turned on the dorm TV up on the wall near his bed.

“Want to watch a scary movie?” You tease. You love scary movies so much that being scared shitless is so much fun.

“ Uhhhhhhhh sure”, he was hesitant. This could be fun. He is so cute. What’s the worst that could happen.

You take the initiative and lie down on the bed, Jeongin still sitting on the edge “come on, I don’t bite”. You smile sweetly. Why all of a sudden, is he so nervous.

He slowly lies next to you “here, give me the remote, I’ll pick” you roll over the top of him a little and hear him hold his breath. Your chest on top of his as you reach over to the side table, you can feel his heartbeat quicken.

You turn your head now. Your lips are hovering over his, up close. They look so soft, so kissable. You find your heartbeat matching his, and with that, you decide to kiss him. He is stiff, so you quickly pull back.

“I am so sorry…..how embarrassing” you cover your face while you sit up

“No, no, please don’t feel embarrassed,” he said, pulling your hands down, crossing his legs sitting up in front of you.

“We just met…..I probably look like such a slut….I’m so sorry….if it helps, I’m still a virgin,” god. It just came out like word vomit. Why couldn’t you stop talking.

“That was my first kiss” he looked uneasy.

“Oh, I’m so so so sorry”, you plead with him.

“No, it’s okay….I wanted to kiss you….I find you very beautiful” he smiled, and your heart fluttered a little.

“Did you, umm, maybe want to try again” you hope he says yes.

He leans forward and pulls you in by the back of your neck “you look so beautiful wearing my clothes” he pulls away to take a breath before crashing his lips back into yours. They are soft, and he is doing fantastic for someone who’s never kissed someone before.

“We should stop… I might get carried away” he pulls back completely.

“What if I want to get carried away” you are never like this. What has come over you? Who are you?

He raises his eyebrows and scoffs.

“You’ve seen me naked already, so you might as well” you get up and crawl over to him. He gulps once more.

“Unless you don’t want to”, you peck his lips. He launches at your lips, hungry to finish what he just started. Pushing you down on the bed, his body hovers over yours.

“You just tell me what you would like me to do” he settles his lower half between your legs. You run your finger through his hair and shove his lips back into yours for a moment.

“Take your clothes off me” you are out of breath, he grunts and without another sound, pulls his clothes off your body again, exposing your naked body to him.

“You are just” he couldn’t finish the sentence. He was too mesmerised by your body.

“Where do I begin” he clicked his teeth before placing kisses on your neck.

“That’s a good start there”, you moan as he kisses down your chest. He makes his way down to your stomach.

“Just checking. You are sure about this, right” you could not be more sure. His lips left shivers down your spine.

“I am so sure” he goes to kiss your inner thigh.

“Oh yes”, you moan. You can feel yourself getting aroused already.

He goes in, spreading your folds with his tongue. The feeling was sensational, even better than you could imagine your body Jolts naturally. “You okay, am I hurting you?” jeongin stops thinking he’s done something wrong.

“Please keep going…..it felt so good” jeongin was proud of himself. He never thought he could make someone feel this good, let alone a beautiful girl.

jeongin has watched a lot of porn to get him ready for this moment. As he eats you out, he thinks of his next plan. He inserts one finger into your core. He knows he needs to stretch you out slowly, or you could be in a lot of pain. You gasp at the feeling of his finger inside you. He stops once more.

“You are doing so good” you run your fingers through his hair. He slowly pumps the finger inside you, flicks your head back and arches your body, a sign from the porn he’s watched that he’s doing well. He decided it had been enough time, so he inserted another finger in while playing with your clit.

“jeongin, please, I’m about to….” He feels your walls tighten around his fingers, and your body vibrates on the bed. He was so proud of himself for giving his first-ever orgasm.

“My turn” you pull him up by the hair, and he rolls over onto his back. You straddle him wanting to show off your talents. You had never had sex, but you have given a couple of blow jobs in your life, so this was a piece of cake.

You undo his pants and pull them down, exposing his penis. He’s bigger than you expected. “You ready” you like your lips as you hop off him. He pulls his pants off, and you lie down between his legs. You start at his balls and lick up until you reach the tip licking the Precum off. He looks down at you, wondering what he did to deserve this blessing from god. You pump his dick into your mouth while your hands play with his balls “oh god, you are so good at that” you knew enough about what it looked like when a man would cum to know that jeongin was close.

You stop and sit up “do you have any condoms?” jeongin had no idea. He looked confused.

“Uhhhh, Seungmin might have some” he points to the draw, and you open it. To your surprise, there they were, a fresh packet. You open the wrapper with your teeth and do the honours of sliding it onto his cock. You take a deep breath in and think this is it. I’m going to lose my virginity.

Once more, straddle him as you line him up with your core and insert him slowly “oh fuck”, he said as he could feel your walls tight. You wait a moment until you feel your body adjust. You start to bob up and down on his dick. “I don’t know how long I can last”, he moans. It’s been about 40 seconds already. “I’m gonna cum”, he moaned, and you could feel the wariness inside. You roll off down next to him. “I am so sorry that must have been so uneventful for you” he was upset that he couldn’t hold on any longer.

“Hey, look…it was so good” you smile as you kiss him, he is sweet, and you don’t regret any of it “besides, with a little practice, we can both only get better, right” you smile at him. This is going to be the start of something fun.

[little-witchys-garden]

Tw r×pe + victim blaming + possible queerphobia + ab×se

Dear erotica authors

STOP SAYING R×PE IS ROMANTIC AND STOP PUTTING IN INTO ROMANCE BOOKS AND DARK ROMANCE.

My friend send me this erotica author because she was like: yeah this book is really "weird " because this guy basically can't handle the fact his wife doesn't wanna sleep with him and he's like " then I'll wait you do "

So I was like that's weird SO I READ THE COMMENTS AND DID SOME RESEARCH...

Ima give y'all this first

Yeah and it gets worse umm the book from what I was told hints that the woman...deserved it for being a " prude ", bratty, and wrong for not putting out..

A few woman felt there was hints or undertones of the main female character aka the one that gets r×ped being either I'm the ace spec or a wlw.... Many of them were left uncomfortable since they felt from reading the book that the r×pe made out as a punishment....

Then I looked up the " trigger warning "

I.... Does this fool not know what triggers are???? Does she realize triggers can be anything so when you write such things you need to warn triggers like dr×gs, ab×se and r×pe etc.

This is not a trigger warning..

In all her reels and posts she puts out, she doesn't of course mention the ab×se or r×pe....

No

Its played off as a mobster man with just to much love in his heart is marriged to a woman that is just scared of opening up. It's played off as a one sided slowburning love not ya know.. A woman being ab×sed, r×ped, blamed and has to stay with her r×pist... Just leaves that part out..

R×pe isn't romance

It's not even dark romance..

[wildernessuntothemselves]

So Stupid

Word Count: 5.2k

Genre: Smut, Angst

Summary: Every year, your school does a sort of beauty/couples contest. One male and one female are picked out of each class to compete for the first prize. It’s part of the year end school festival and this year, you’re forced to participate as no one else in your class would, and as part of the student body counsel, you had to take one for the team. The other half of your couple, the boy, is picked out at random, and it turns out to be none other than your estranged childhood friend Beomgyu. 

Warning: NONCON PLEASE DON’T READ IF THIS TRIGGERS YOU

“Beomgyu really? What a disgrace to our class.” Jeongin sneers, speaking loud enough for everyone to hear, including Beomgyu himself.

You wince at the comment, your eyes darting towards the boy being spoken about. You can’t see his expression since he’s got his head down, his long hair covering his face, but you know he must feel horrible. He has always suffered from the bullies’ comments and they hurt him deeply. You wish you could defend him like you used to when you were kids, but you know it’s different now. If you stand up for him, it will only bring more ire down on him, giving more fuel to the bullies to make fun of him for not being a man enough and needing a girl to protect him.

You wish he’d say something to defend himself instead, but he never does.

As children, you and Beomgyu were attached at the hip. You were always so protective of him as he was often the subject of bullying due to his feminine nature, and you always took it upon yourself to stand up for him and chase the bullies away. This continued into your elementary school years, but once you reached middle school, the both of you were separated, each one going to a different school. And as happens when two people have different schedules and friends, you gradually lost contact. You met him again in high school, but Beomgyu was different by then. He was withdrawn and elusive. You tried to talk to him multiple times but he didn’t really reciprocate and so you regretfully backed off.

Your thoughts are cut off when you see someone step up to you in your peripheral vision, and to your dismay you find out it’s Jeongin.

“If I knew you were running, baby, I would’ve volunteered to compete with you.” He gives you a greasy smile.

You shoot him your coldest look in response. “Fuck off, Jeongin.” Your words had more bite to them than usual and they catch the cocky boy off guard. He blinks in surprise and looks around to make sure no one saw that before clearing his throat and slithering back to his seat. 

You glance back at Beomgyu, your heart skipping a beat when you see him looking directly at you. You weren’t expecting it as he never paid you much attention since you’ve gotten reunited in high school, but as soon as you make eye contact, he looks away. 

Your fists clench at your sides. You can’t just let this keep happening. You can’t let him get bullied and you can’t let him keep ignoring you. So you make up your mind; you’re going to help him whether he likes it or not. 

You wait until class is over before approaching him. 

“Hey, Beomgyu!” You greet cheerily, hoping to put him at ease, but he still jumps at your voice. He takes a quick look at you before he ducks his head down again, and responds quietly, “Hey.”

Undeterred, you continue, “Since we’re the chosen couple of our class for the beauty contest, why don’t we help each other out?” 

He’s quiet for a moment before he glances around nervously, and says in a small voice. “Umm… can we t-talk somewhere else?”

You look around to see that you're surrounded by your classmates, the same ones who bully him so much. You mentally slap yourself for being thoughtless. He probably doesn’t want to bring even more attention to himself.  “Of course!” 

Once you’re alone, Beomgyu eases up a tiny bit. 

“It’s been a long time, huh?” You ask casually, jumping up to sit on an empty desk. Beomgyu just stares at his feet and nods. 

Not letting yourself get discouraged, you continue. “So about the contest, we should do our best to win, yeah?” 

“Why?” He asks so quietly you almost miss it. 

“To prove those bastards wrong! They were totally making fun of you back there so let’s win and shove that trophy up their asses.” You explain heatedly. You see a tiny smile appear on his face, but you can’t be sure as it’s gone as soon as you think you saw it.  

“I--I can’t. I’ll just bring you down.” He says defeatedly, “Maybe you should just compete with Jeongin. He’s handsome and popular, and you’re… beautiful. You’ll win for sure.” 

“Don’t be so negative, Beomgyu.” You yell at him, and he jumps back. “S-sorry.”

“And don’t apologize.” You say sternly, “Besides, there is no way I’m competing with that asshole. I wanna do it with you.” 

You walk towards him, stopping so close to him that his surprise overcomes his shyness and he looks at you directly.  “Please? Do it for me.”

You can barely see his eyes from behind his fringe, but you don’t need to to be able to tell that he’s conflicted. 

You reach out for his hands, hoping to tip the scales. He gasps as your hands clasp around his bigger ones, and you pause for a second, realizing how much he’s grown over the years, your hands that used to be the same size as his, now look so small in comparison. And when you look up at him, you realize how tall he’s gotten. 

“You’ve really grown, huh?”

“What do you mean?” He asks shyly. 

“You’re so tall now.” 

“Ah… I could’ve been taller.” He replies sheepishly. 

“What are you talking about?” You protest, “You’re so tall already.” 

He shrugs. “Five more centimeters would be nice.” 

“Why?”

“Well, you’re kinda tall…” 

“What does that have to do with anything?” 

“Nothing.” He quickly pulls his hands away and takes a step back. “I’ll do it.” 

“Do what--” You’re lost for a second before realization hits you and you clap your hands in excitement.  “Wait, you’ll compete with me?!” 

“Yeah.” He answers shyly and you throw your hands around him in a big hug. He stays stiff in your arms, his hands drawn to his body and making no move to return the hug but you don’t care, squeezing him tighter. “We’re gonna crush this.” 

Finally pulling back, you see a weak smile on his face. “Now, in order to win, we gotta impress everyone. Let’s start by changing your style.” 

He looks at you in confusion. “M-my style?” 

“Yeah, those glasses have to go.” You reach out and gently take his glasses off. He panics a bit, squeezing his eyes shut and breathing heavily. “Open your eyes, Beomgyu. I can’t see.” 

He takes a deep breath before opening his eyes slowly. Your heart skips a beat as his gaze locks with yours, and you suddenly feel a little nervous.

What’s wrong with you? It’s just Beomgyu, you scold yourself before pulling yourself together and smiling at him. “There, much better.” 

“But I can’t see without them.” 

You think for a moment. “Have you tried lenses?” 

“No.” 

“Oh, right, you’re scared of anything getting near your eyes.” You recall, but Beomgyu quickly denies it. “I’m not scared of that anymore!”

You pause at his sudden outburst, not getting why the simple misunderstanding bothered him so much, but brush it off.  “Then we’ll try that.” You say before frowning. 

“What’s wrong?” He asks worriedly. You put the glasses down and reach for his face again. This time he pulls away in panic. “What are you doing?” 

You laugh, grabbing his shoulder to keep him in place. “Relax, I’m just going to part your bangs. I can’t see your face.” You sweep his long bangs to the side, finally able to see his eyes clearly, making your heart flutter even more, but you just chalk it up to how beautiful he is. 

Awkwardly, you say, “You have gorgeous eyes. Why are you hiding them?” 

He blushes at the compliment, “I don’t like people seeing my face. It makes me nervous.” 

“There you go again being negative.” You pout and he quickly apologizes. “I don’t mean to make you frustrated.”

“I just want you to have some confidence. You have such a beautiful face.” You cock your head to the side, touching his soft cheek. He really was so pretty. Even prettier than you, you think begrudgingly. Beomgyu squeaks and jumps back. “You shouldn’t touch me so much.” 

You chuckle, “Why not? We’re friends, aren’t we?” 

“Yeah, b-but still you're a girl and I'm a guy.. ” He answers and you roll your eyes and pinch his cheek. "Don't be silly." 

Still, you step back to not make him too uncomfortable. “Your homework for today is to keep your bangs parted like that and send me your prescription so I can get you some lenses to try out. How does that sound?”

“Good.”

“Great.” You smile brightly, feeling so accomplished already. “We’re done for today then.” 

“Oh, okay.” He seems a little disappointed but you don’t dwell on it because that’s when you hear your name being called. Heading towards the door where you hear the sound, you run into your boyfriend.

"There you are, babe. I’ve been looking for you all over." Yeonjun exclaims, encircling you in his arms. “I heard what happened. It’s so unfair that you have to run with that weird kid.” 

“Yeonjun!” You smack him, pointedly looking back at Beomgyu who was behind you, still inside the classroom. 

“Oh, sorry. Didn't see you there.” Yeonjun mumbles, furrowing his eyebrows. "You look... different."

Beomgyu immediately pushes his bangs over his eyes again and puts on his glasses. 

“Nooo, don’t do that.” You get out of Yeonjun’s embrace and reach your hand out to part Beomgyu’s bangs back but he jumps away. You sigh, turning to your boyfriend. "I'm giving him a makeover for the competition."

“Ah.” He gives Beomgyu an unsure look. “Is that going to help? Ow!” He shouts as you give his arm a good punch. "I mean you can win easily, babe. You’re stunning, but…" He throws another glance at Beomgyu, and the younger boy quickly grabs his bag to leave. 

"Beomgyu, you don't have--" You call after him, but he's already pushing past the both of you. "I'll see you tomorrow!" You shout at his retreating back before turning to your boyfriend and punching him again, harder this time. "Why did you have to be such an asshole?" 

He pouts, holding his arm where you hit him. "I was just telling the truth." 

"Beomgyu is pretty!" You insist, but Yeonjun looks doubtful. 

"Whatever.” He rolls his eyes and wraps his arms around your waist again. "Wish I could run with you. Why did I have to be older?"

You giggle, "So I can brag about having a cool older boyfriend that the entire school is in love with." 

Your answer seems to satisfy him, and he leans down to kiss your lips when an intrusive thought pops into your head, and you wonder what Beomgyu’s lips would feel like.  Surprised at yourself, you pull away, confusing Yeonjun. “Are you okay, babe?” 

“Yeah, I just have a lot on my mind because of the contest.” You lie, and he pats your head. “Don’t overexert yourself. You’re the most beautiful girl in the school to me regardless of any dumb contest.” 

“Aw, you simp.” You tease him, giggling. 

_____________________

“How are the lenses?” 

Beomgyu frowns, complaining, “They’re making my eyes dry and I can see everything too clearly.”

You pout at his answer and he hastily apologizes. “Sorry. I’m being negative again.” He puts on a smile for you. “I’ll get used to them.”

You smile back at his effort, appreciating it. “I think the lenses suit you a lot. They let you show your pretty face.” 

“Stop saying that so lightly…” He protests. 

“But it’s true. You’re very pretty, Beomgyu.” 

He stutters under your scrutiny. “So what’s f-for today?”

“We need to change the way you wear your clothes.” You proclaim, and he looks at you in confusion, cocking his head to the side and looking like such a lost puppy that you can’t help but reach forward and pinch his cheek. “Stop being so cute!” 

Beomgyu flushes, smiling bashfully as you pat his cheek before dropping your hand to his vest and pulling it up. “Take this off.”

“What?” Beomgyu sputters. 

“You look too tidy.” You explain, “Let’s make you look cool.” 

“Oh. Okay.” His voice is unsure but he does it anyway, taking his vest off for you. 

“Good, now untuck half of your shirt.” 

“Eh?” He looks confused again. You roll your eyes, and do it yourself despite his protests, untucking part of his shirt and tucking in any excess parts. It feels really intimate, standing so close together as you fix his clothes, moving from the bottom of his shirt to the top to unbutton the first two buttons and loosen his tie. 

He stands completely still, face red and breathing halted. You feel the tension too, but you pretend you don’t, taking your sweet time adjusting his clothes so you’d be close to him for that much longer. And even after you’re done, you can’t help but stand there and admire him. He really is unfairly attractive. 

You don’t realize you’ve been standing there staring at him until he calls out your name. 

“Huh?” You snap out of it.

“Too close…” He whispers. 

“Oh, right.” You reply, begrudgingly taking a step back but not taking your eyes off him. “You look amazing.” 

He seems unconvinced, a cute pout adorning his face. “But I look messy.” 

“Girls like that. The I-couldn’t-care-less look.” You explain and he’s quiet for a moment, thinking. “Do you also like it?” 

You shrug, “I guess.” 

He pauses again. “Is this why you like Yeonjun?” 

His question catches you off guard. “Huh?... No. I mean not exclusively.” 

“Then why do you like him?” He presses, and you feel flustered under his intense stare.

“I just like him.” 

Beomgyu frowns, seemingly unsatisfied with your answer but you cut him off before he can question you more. “I think we’re done for today.” 

“Okay.” He smiles his pretty smile that makes your insides knot up. “What are we doing tomorrow?” 

“Tomorrow is the weekend.” You tell him, and a disappointed look appears on his face. “So we can meet at the mall and go shopping.”

His smile quickly returns. “That sounds great.” 

____________________

“How about this?” Beomgyu asks, holding out a dress for you. 

“Hmm, it won’t suit me.” You say, about to brush off the hundredth dress you’ve seen today when a thought pops into your head and you let out an exaggerated gasp, scaring Beomgyu. “But you know what? This would look so good on you!”

“Hey!” Beomgyu squawks, “I’m not a girl!” 

“I know,” You roll your eyes at him, “But this would be so great for the contest. It would really leave an impact on the audience if we crossdress. It would set us apart from the others and you’d look so good in it.” 

“No!” He indignantly refuses. 

“Do you not know how to put them on? I can dress you if you want.” You chatter, excited. 

“No! I can put on a dress on my own.” He shouts and a few passerby’s turn their heads to look at you. He blushes deeply before continuing, “That’s not the reason.”

“Please, Beomgyu. Just try it on.” You plead, giving him your best puppy eyes. “I really wanna win. Please, please!” 

He sighs, looking like he has something on his mind. 

“What is it?”

“I was just thinking how I’d do anything for you.” 

Your breath catches in your throat at his words, a fuzzy feeling tingling at your fingertips at the way he looks at you. You feel like you would burst if you stayed under his gaze a second longer. So you hurriedly push the dress towards him. “Go on then. Try it.” 

_______________

“How is it?” You pipe up impatiently, “Are you almost done?” 

“I’m done…” He trails off. 

“Then what are you waiting for? Come out.” You stomp your foot excitedly, but no movement occurs behind the curtain. 

“Um...I’m too embarrassed to go out like this. Can you come in instead?” 

You barely wait for him to finish his sentence before you’re snatching the curtain to the side and stepping in, gasping as you take a look at him. 

“You look… beautiful!” You squeak giddily. “You’re going to look so much cuter than all the other girls!” 

“I’m not a girl.” He protests heatedly. 

“Oh, yeah, of course.” You reply absentmindedly, taking out your phone. “Let me take a picture of you. This is even better than I imagined.” 

Beomgyu swats your hand away when you raise your phone at him. “No. Don’t!” 

“Come on, just one picture… or two.” You giggle, pointing the camera at him again. 

Suddenly, you’re pushed against the mirror behind you, wrists pinned to the cool glass as your breath whooshes out of your chest at the force. 

“Beomgyu?” You ask shakily, a little surprised by the strength of the skinny boy. 

His face was so close to yours, you could feel his unsteady breath against your cheek. “Don’t.” He repeats, “Don’t take pictures.” 

“O-okay, I won’t.” You reply unsteadily, the urge to kiss him flaring up at his proximity. “Can you let me go?” 

Beomgyu blinks then jumps back. “Ah… sorry.” 

You rub your wrists where he was holding them, finding them a bit sore already. “It’s okay. I shouldn’t have pushed.” You say awkwardly. “I’ll get out so you can change.” ________________

When he steps back out, you inform him that this is it for today. You’ll resume shopping tomorrow. He quietly agrees, the atmosphere a bit tense. 

Walking towards the exit of the mall, your steps are brisk, needing to escape the weird situation you’ve created. But as soon as you step out of the mall, you spot something that stops you in your tracks. 

“Look, Beomgyu!” You shout, pointing at a stuffed toy inside the claw machine outside of the mall. “Doesn’t this bear look so much like you?” 

He shakes his head, “No way.”

“I gotta win this.” You brush him off, grabbing a coin from your pocket and inserting it into the machine and begin playing. 

However, after a few tries, you’re still bearless. You turn to Beomgyu with a forlorn look. “I’m so bad at this. I’m so sad.” You lay your hand against the glass and look at the toy longingly. 

“I’ll win it for you.” Beomgyu pipes up and you immediately perk up. “Really?” 

You watch him as he inserts the coin and moves the stick carefully. He looks so adorable focusing all his attention on the stuffed bear, his expression mimicking the one on the toy’s face even more. 

To your delight, he gets it in one try, and you’re so excited you snatch the toy out of his hands as soon as he gets it and hold it to your chest, twirling around in happiness before engulfing him in a huge hug.“You’re the best, Beommie!” 

“Was it really that important?” He asks with a giggle. You pull back to pout at him, your faces so close together. “I just like cute stuff.” You shrug, “And it reminds me of you so I wanted it.” 

Beomgyu's smile is frozen and you realize how close your faces are yet again. You clear your throat and step back. 

“We should go now.” 

____________

You’ve been hanging out with Beomgyu so much lately, and you couldn’t be happier. You’ve finally rekindled your friendship with him, and he’s been way more comfortable around you lately, save for the few inexplicable moments you always seem to find yourself in. But you don’t pay much mind to those. 

“Don’t you think you’re spending too much time with him?” Yeonjun’s voice breaks through your thoughts. 

“Huh? But we’re preparing for the contest.” You reply defensively, feeling nervous that Yeonjun might suspect something of your feelings for Beomgyu.

“I know that but you still shouldn’t be spending so much time with another man when you have a boyfriend.”

You force out a laugh. “Wait, are you actually jealous of Beomgyu?”

Yeonjun shrugs. “He’s a guy, isn’t he?” 

“Yeah, but he’s not like that. The boy is more feminine than I am. He's like one of my girlfriends.” You chuckle, trying to bluff when you suddenly catch a glimpse of a certain someone. Your blood runs cold when you make eye contact with none other than Beomgyu himself. “Oh shit, Beomgyu, wait!” 

He turns his back to you and walks away briskly. 

“I have to talk to him.” You tell Yeonjun, not bothering to wait back and hear his words of protest. 

You catch up to Beomgyu outside the school when he suddenly stops and you crash into him. He turns back to you in fury. "So you really don’t consider me as a man?" 

“I’m so sorry I shouldn’t have said that.” You quickly apologize, “I was just trying to calm Yeonjun down. I didn’t mean to say that when I know how much it hurts you when people do that.”  

He laughs bitterly, "You don’t even know anything, do you?”

You press your lips tightly, not knowing what to say and scared that you’ll fuck things up even more if you speak.

“God, you make me so angry.” He yells, stepping up to you and towering over you. This time, you’re the one who nervously shies away from his gaze, making him scoff and step back. “Stay away from me if you know what’s good for you.” 

______________

You couldn’t stay away. He’s your friend. You’re not gonna lose him again. Besides, you felt horrible about what you said and how it must’ve made him feel. You tried apologizing many times but he hasn’t shown up to school and he hasn’t been replying to any of your calls or texts.  Your worry builds up with every passing day until you can’t take it anymore and decide to just go to his house and force him to talk to you. 

When he opens the door for you, he looks different than you’ve ever seen him, dressed in a large black hoodie and sweatpants with his hair once again covering half his face and giving him a menacing look. 

You feel your heart palpitate, something not feeling right. But you don’t let yourself cower away. You fucked this up and you’re gonna have to fix it. 

“I thought I told you to stay away.” For the first time, his deep voice sounds threatening instead of comforting. Still, you don’t back down. “I can’t. You’re my friend.” 

“I don’t want to be your friend.” He growls, hurling the words at you.  

“Don’t say that. I know you’re upset at me but we can work through this.” You plead, latching onto his arm in your desperation. He stares at where you’re touching him, a weird silence following. Awkwardly, you pull your hand away, and he looks at your face once again, but before you can say anything, he speaks up. “Let's talk in my room.”

"Ok." You squeak nervously, ready to do whatever you could to appease the angry boy. 

But you regret your decision once you're inside his room and you hear the door being closed and locked behind him.

"Gyu?” You ask shakily, the nickname you used to call him as kids coming out in your nervousness, but it just sets him off more. 

“You’re so dumb. I told you to stay away but instead you come to my house alone and go up to my room just because I asked you to." He advances on you, backing you away towards the bed. "You’re either stupid or a slut.” 

You gasp at his words. You’ve never heard Beomgyu speak this way before, let alone to you. He pushes you to the bed, the force behind his shove almost making you fly backwards. 

“You even came here wearing this short dress." He drags the hem of your dress up over your thigh. "Do you really not see me as a man at all or are you trying to tempt me?” 

You struggle to cover yourself up but he pins both of your wrists over your head with one hand. "Beomgyu, please, let's talk about this."

 "No. I've given you the chance to run away and you didn't take it. I won't hold back anymore." He kisses you deeply, pouring so much emotion into it that you can almost choke. 

You don’t know what to think. You’d be lying to yourself if you said that you haven’t been thinking about his lips ever since that first day, and that desire has only grown worse every day, but this is wrong. You have a boyfriend, and Beomgyu’s words were more than a little concerning. 

Unable to free your hands, your body squirms under him, trying to make him stop, but instead, the movement only serves to rub your body against his, eliciting a deep moan from him as your thigh comes into contact with his hard dick. 

Freaking out, you bite down on his lip, making him hiss and pull back. “Beomgyu--”

He cuts you off with a slap, shocking you into silence. “What? Are you afraid of me?” He taunts, clearly seeing the tears building up in your eyes. “Good.” 

He goes to kiss you again, but you turn your head to the side, making him miss your lips. He bites down on the sensitive skin of your neck in retaliation. 

“Ah, Beomgyu--” You moan despite yourself. “Don’t leave a mark.” 

"Are you worried your boyfriend will see?" His deep chuckle reverberates against your throat. “It’s no use. I won’t let you see him again.” 

“W-what?” You shudder, but Beomgyu pays you no mind, his mouthing trailing from your neck down to your breasts. When he encounters the top of your dress, hindering him from moving downward, he grabs it and pulls sharply, the thin fabric tearing away from your body and exposing your breasts to him. 

You look away, not bearing to look at the savage man you used to call your best friend. But you can tell that his eyes are devouring your exposed chest. You shiver when you feel his hand cup one of your breasts, squeezing and kneading it before he bends down to latch onto the other one, laying wet kisses all over your skin. You can't help the moan that slips out of your mouth and you glance down to see his eyes fixed on you. You look away quickly but he doesn't stop, kissing and sucking all over your tits in hunger.

You start struggling again when you feel one of his hands move between your legs. But it’s no use, his fingers easily slipping past your panties to rub at your pussy. 

"You're so wet.” He sucks in a breath through his teeth, “Are you enjoying this? Is this why you've been teasing me? You were trying to make me snap and take you?"

You shake your head violently, denying his shameful accusations. 

"Doesn’t matter. I'll take you anyway." He says, yanking your panties down and pushing his fingers inside of you. "This hole is mine now."

The tears finally break free from your eyelashes and stream down your face. You feel stupid and helpless, but most of all you feel guilty and disgusted at yourself for enjoying the way his fingers and mouth are making you feel, the burning pleasure building in the pit of your stomach threatening to devour you. Soon, you can’t hold back your little moans and gasps, feeding Beomgyu’s delusions even more. 

Your walls start to clench around his fingers, and he pulls back to look at you, lips swollen and glistening. He grabs your hand and directs it to his hard dick. "Still think I'm a girl now?"

You shake your head. “I’m sorry, Beomgyu. Please stop.” 

“Why? Are you ashamed that you like this so much you’re gonna cum for me?” He taunts, curling his fingers to rub against your g-spot, making you gasp and draw your legs up your chest. “What if your boyfriend sees you like this? Should we take a picture for him?” 

“No, please, please!”

“But you like taking pictures so much.” 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for how I treated you. Please stop.” You cry, pleading for his mercy. 

You think it worked when he pulls his fingers out of you, a thank-you at the tip of your tongue, but then he pulls his sweats down and presses your thighs to your body, lining his dick with your entrance. 

You scream out as he pushes into you. "There you go. All mine now."

He grabs your face and makes you look at him before leaning down and kissing your lips. This time you let him. He's already got his dick inside you, what more can you lose?  

"Fuck, you’re so tight. I can get used to this." He groans, drawing back and snapping his hips into you. "Now that you're mine I'll fuck this pussy every day and night. You’re going to make up for all the times you’ve teased me. I’ll use you well, my pretty slut." 

His words made you feel like an object more than a human, a sex toy for him to play with.  With disgust, you find yourself getting wetter at his degrading words. Did you really like this? What is wrong with you?

"Is this how your boyfriend fucks you?" He asks, teeth gritting at his own question. "Or maybe he takes you from behind like the slut you are." He muses, groping your tits roughly. "Do you let him? Huh?"

You don't answer his question, knowing that it will only anger him more to hear you mentioning anything about Yeonjun.

"It doesn't matter." He scoffs at your silence, his thrusts getting erratic. "I'll keep you stuffed with my dick all the time until you forget about that stupid bastard."

Your thighs ache from being held at this high angle and you’re sure your skin is red from the way his hips keep slapping against yours, but despite all that you feel your orgasm approaching. 

"You're clenching so hard. Are you gonna cum on my dick?" 

You shake your head from side to side. "I don't want to. Please stop."

"That's too bad. It's better that you face what you are right now, my little whore." His hands grab your waist to steady you before he starts fucking you brutally fast and hard, intent on tearing the orgasm out of your screaming body. 

And that's exactly what he does. 

"Beomgyu!" You wail, your walls spasming around his dick that struggles to keep thrusting into you for a couple more seconds before he too cums, emptying his load deep inside of you. "AH--fuck! Good girl--good little slut. That's it… milk my cock." He grunts, fucking his cum deeper into you and filling the room with wet sloppy sounds. 

'Please, Beomgyu, enough… let me go." You whimper, and he finally stops, taking a deep breath but not pulling out of you. 

"I can't, baby. You're such a slut, if I let you out of my sight you'll find another man to get fucked by like you did with me." He explains to you like you’re a dumb kitten. "I need to keep my slut on a tight leash so she won't stray again."

“Beomgyu… this isn’t you.” You weep, terrified of the man on top of you. 

“You made me this way.” He says softly, brushing your hair away from your face. “Now lay back and take the consequences of what you did to me.”

_____________

A/N: for the brave ones who actually read this, let me know what you think

[cerebralinvasion]

Hi!

Can i ask for some yandere kokichi alphabet?

do any letters you want! :D

trigger warnings: yanderes, obsessiveness, possessiveness, manipulation, kidnapping, generally unhealthy and toxic relationships

notes: sure thing anon! i wasn’t exactly sure which ones to do so i just kind of did all of them lol, i did skip s and u though cause i had no clue what to put for them.

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

he’s very clingy, constantly at your side, holding you, and nuzzling up close. you rarely get a second to yourself with how constantly he’s showering you with affection.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

very very messy. though he usually prefers to use manipulation or his intelligence to get rid of rivals, he’s not against using brute force when necessary.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

he does mock you a little bit but contrary to what some think i don’t think he’d be outright cruel to you. he can be highly patronizing at points and he loves teasing you, but he still really cares for you and he does want the best for you.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

physical contact, absolutely nothing sexual against your will of course. but he enjoys nuzzling up to you, cuddling, and giving you head pats. just physical affection even if you’re not a huge fan of it.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

he’s not very vulnerable with you… not until he trusts you fully at least. he loves you a lot and he wants to keep you safe, but to do that he hasn’t to keep you near him. and he can’t risk you getting away.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

he finds it enjoyable, it’s like a game to him really. he’s confident that he’ll win, though that doesn’t mean that too much of it won’t get on his nerves.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

in some ways yes and in some ways no. you trying to escape and him catching after you is very much like cat and mouse. he thinks the chase is fun. but he does seriously care about you and truly he wants you to love him and be as obsessed with and dependent on him as he is with you.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

it wouldn’t just be a single experience, but if you’re truly stubborn in refusing to love him, then he’ll have to resort to some underhanded tactics to get you to fall for him. by underhanded tactics i mean manipulation. the gaslighting, guilt tripping, emotional blackmail, and general manipulation to try and get you to love him. he does feel a little bad about it, but he needs you to love him no matter what it takes.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

he kind of wants a normal life with you. well as normal as constantly being by his side every second of every day can be. but it’s weird because even after he’s kidnapped you he goes on acting normal and pretending like it never happened.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

yes. absolutely he gets so jealous. but he’s really good at hiding it. unless it’s for the purpose of getting you to comfort him and give him affection you probably won’t ever learn how truly resentful he is towards all the people you choose to spend time with over him.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

he can be so… sweet in front of you. at least before he chooses to kidnap you. he wants to seem way more nice and loving in front of you. the others may point out how his attitude totally shifts but you may just brush it off, considering the fact that kokichi has been nothing but sweet to you since you’ve met him.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

umm other than kidnapping you eventually. he’s just kind of very clingy but he makes it seem more innocent then his obsession actually is. bothering you and sticking by your side all the time. tell him to quit bothering you and he’ll whine and pout, might even start sobbing if you’re someone he can guilt trip easily.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

oh definitely. he’s far more obsessive, possessive, and controlling then he’d wish to let on.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

mostly psychological punishments. gaslighting, isolation, and so on. but his punishments are few and far between. he likes to spend a lot of time with his darling so isolation isn’t something he likes to do often.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

well your freedom definitely (considering the fact that he kidnapped you) privacy is pretty much out the window, since he wants to know where you are and what you're doing 24/7. and you’re definitely not getting independence since he’s by your side all the time. so like a lot-

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

surprisingly enough he’s very patient. partially because he doesn’t take your escape attempts or fighting back very seriously.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

no. he’d never be able to move on to be honestly, he’s the type of yandere that might actually kill themself if you’re really gone forever. he legitimately just can’t mentally handle the thought of not being with you ever again.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

honestly yeah, he does feel kind of guilty but his possessiveness outweighs his morals. so chances are slim that you’ll be getting away anytime soon. maybe if you've behaved yourself for a super long time, and he’s 100% sure you won’t leave him, he might consider letting you go. but you’d still live with him and spend most of your time around him.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

part of him finds it very cute and he likes watching you get like this, but the other part of him kind of feels a bit guilty. he’s very conflicted in how he reacts and can’t really tell how he should feel.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

there’s not much here to work with… he’s extremely intelligent and has probably been stalking you for a while; so he knows you well. it’s unlikely you’re ever going to be able to trick him to get away.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

not on purpose. he wouldn’t intentionally cause you physical harm unless he got really emotional at some point and totally lost his cool. he’d feel really bad about it, but he wouldn’t apologize. he’d probably treat your wounds and be very very extra sugary sweet to you for a while in an attempt to make up for it. he’ll give you lots of gifts, cuddle you, and generally try and make sure you don’t view him as scary or as someone who could hurt you again.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

he doesn’t really worship you, but he definitely does revere you. kind of views you as equal to him in terms of being a king/Queen, thinks the two of you deserve to be worshiped and treated with respect. so he definitely doesn’t take kindly to others treating you poorly.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

not long. kokichi knows what he wants. and he wants you. so if kidnapping you is the way to get what he wants. it’ll only take as long as it takes him to come up with a proper plan before you’re in his hands.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

no absolutely not, if you were broken that’d just be totally boring! he doesn’t want just some doll or a husk of a person. he wants you so breaking a darling would be one of the most dreadful things that could possibly happen.

[babybluebex]

next week [baron zemo x reader]

summary ↠ you're hired to give a message to a german prisoner, but you never expected to actually take a liking to him. pairing ↠ baron helmut zemo x fem!reader (y/n) word count ↠ 2.9k warnings ↠ explicit language, a bit of nonsexual choking, zemo calls you a bitch a/n ↠ after a week, here she is!! also, if there's demand for it... part 2? until then, enjoy! masterlist/taglist in bio!

The prison felt cold and unforgiving, and you instinctively wrapped your arms around yourself. You followed the guard down the halls, twists and turns with no hope of remembering the correct way out.You figured that they had designed it that way on purpose; nobody could leave and escape if the way out was a labyrinth. Finally, you were led to a man sitting at a desk. His eyes followed you as you approached, and it was only once you were fully in front of him did he speak. “Name?” he asked in German, and you cleared your throat. Your German was shaky, but would have to do.

“Zemo,” you replied. “I’m here for visitation with my husband.”

The man laughed a bit. “Pretty girl visiting her man in prison,” he mumbled. “Such a waste. Take off your jacket, Frau Zemo.”

You had no reason to be nervous, but you still shook a bit when you slid your jacket off and held your arms out for the necessary pat-down. But, as you pondered it, you actually had quite a lot to be scared of. The past three days had been hell, for sure. It started with a firm knock on your apartment door in your home of New York City, and you had opened it to see a man with a metal arm and surprisingly kind eyes. He had introduced himself as simply James, and he had told you that he needed you to do something for him.

“I know you’re Sokovian,” James had explained. “I found your name on a registry of citizens that were moved to the US following the Sokovia incident a few years back. If you do this for me, I’ll help you get access to the city ruins. You were young when you lost your parents, yeah? I know the feeling. Not having closure is… Awful. Wouldn’t wish it on anyone. But, in order to do that, I need you to do something for me?”

You had looked James up and down. “What is the something?” you asked.

“I have a friend,” he began and gave a little wince. “Acquaintance. Umm, I know someone who’s in a German prison right now, and he’s going to be a big help to me and my business partner. All you need to do is go in and give him a message.”

“What sort of message?”

“‘Winter’s coming soon. Next week, I imagine.’ Has to be that, verbatim; don’t say anything about who sent you or why. I’ve already got the meeting and everything set up, you just need to go visit him and give him that message.”

“What does that mean?” you asked.

James had hesitated for a moment, tapping his metal fingers against the arm of his chair. “It’s better if you didn’t know,” he said. “I need as little people involved here as possible. I would go in and give him the message myself, but I’m kind-of a wanted man myself. Will you help us?”

James had been thorough in setting up the meeting, even going as far as purchasing a gently-used set of rings for you to wear. He told you that this man, Helmut Zemo, had been in prison for seven years for a variety of things, the heftiest being murder. “He was justified, though,” James said, and you pretended not to notice his small “I guess.”

The guard said something into his radio unit, and you caught enough of it to know that he was approving you to enter. You knew nothing about this Helmut Zemo other than what James had told you, only the bare basics. Sokovian, had a family that was killed at the same time as yours. According to James, Zemo wasn’t dangerous. He would be more confused than anything, he told you. But, no matter what Zemo did, if he denied he had in you no right, you had to keep with it and deliver the message in a natural way. You were his wife, and you were happy to see him.

The light flicked on over the bed, and Zemo gave a quiet grunt of disdain. It was four in the afternoon, and he always asked for the light to be off. Four was when other prisoners were granted visitation, but he had nobody. Stupid light must have accidentally been triggered.

“Zemo!” he heard a guard call from down the hall, and he pulled himself from bed and approached the plexiglass divider that separated him from freedom. “I thought you said you don’t have a wife!”

“I don’t!” Zemo called back, an irritated edge in his voice.

He finally saw the guard turn the corner and approach, and his eyes instantly fixed on the girl that was trailing behind him. She was young, much, much younger than him, and strikingly beautiful. Maybe it was the seven years in jail, but he could have sworn that he was looking at an angel. She seemed nervous, and Helmut focused his gaze on the rings on her left hand. Before he could speak up and correct the guard that this woman wasn’t his wife, she spoke up. “My God,” she whispered in a soft English, her voice heavy with a familiar Sokovian accent. “Helmut, you look… Tired, my love.”

Zemo tried to gauge the woman. She seemed too green to be an assassin, so at least that was something. And she knew his name. How did she know his name? “I am tired, mein lieber,” he sighed, and he pressed his palms up against the glass. She stepped closer and did the same, laying her hands just opposite his, and he examined her rings. Small, simple, unassuming. Props. “You’re so beautiful.”

You gave a small laugh, one that you hoped sounded like a woman whose husband had complimented her. Did he really mean it? Or had he caught onto the act as well? He seemed smart, you had to admit. And he was handsome too. Though his eyes were dull and dark with exhaustion, they were still a lovely brown. His hair was messy but showed hints of ginger in the dark locks, and his scruffy facial hair accented his soft jaw. However exhausted he was, he was still quite the looker. And he was the first full-blooded Sokovian that you had willingly met since the incident. “Can I hold him?” you asked the guard, lowering your voice and tightening your throat to try to feign emotion. “Please?”

The guard blinked slowly, and he nodded. He translated the request through his radio, and, just a moment later, there was the loud buzz as the cell door was unlocked, and it slowly creaked open. You wasted no time in meeting Zemo at the door and throwing your arms around him, and he held you with the strength of a thousand men as you dug your face into his neck. He shushed you gently, stroking your back, and he pressed his mouth to your temple in a fake kiss. “Why’re you here?” he mumbled through gritted teeth, praying the guard hadn’t noticed it. “Who are you?”

“I missed you,” you whimpered into his neck. “I’m sorry, Helmut, but I moved to the States, and I couldn’t exactly tell people who I was or who you were or why I was living in New York alone but married--”

Zemo moved his lips from your temple to your mouth, and he captured you in a slow and deliberate kiss. Whatever game you were playing, he would join. What’s a bit of fun? Anyway, seven years was a long time to not even touch a woman. If he wanted to kiss you, you would let him. According to the stories James had told you about his family, you figured that he deserved it.

You finally pulled out of the kiss and embraced the man once more, and you mumbled, “It’s so cold in here, Helmut. How do you manage?”

“I make do, mein lieber,” Zemo said. “At least you’re here to keep me warm now.”

“Not for very long,” you said softly. Then, you looked over your shoulder at the guard, and you asked, “Ten minutes, yes?”

The guard nodded silently, and you turned back to Zemo. “Well,” you started, breaking away from him and passing your hand over your cheek to wipe up (nonexistent) tears. “Show me your room.”

Zemo gave a small smile and took your hand, the one with the rings, and you pulled you into the cell. You weren’t lying; it was awfully cold. The room was devoid of much of anything, just the bed and a small sink and toilet in the corner. Books were stacked up beside the bed, all dog-eared and torn at the corners, and a small woven mat was in front of the bed.

“You’ve taken good care of them,” Zemo said suddenly, and you looked away from the stack of books to see him holding your hand up to see the rings. “I figured you wouldn’t even wear them after…”

“What makes you think that?” you asked gently. “I married you, I’d never pretend I didn’t.”

“I love you,” Zemo said quickly, nearly interrupting your sentence. “I missed you.”

You nodded silently, and Zemo tugged you into him once more. His arms were tight around your waist, his hand stroking up and down your back, and he laid a small kiss on your neck. Zemo kept his mouth at your pulse point for long enough to gauge just how fast your heart was beating, and he nodded to himself. A spy of some sort. But what did you want?

You looked at the glass wall of the cell, and you saw that the guard had stepped away, and suddenly every piece of James’ plan fell into place in your mind. Like James said, he couldn’t give Zemo the message himself, and it would be weird for someone like James’ partner to come visit Zemo in prison, especially after seven years of absolutely nobody, so someone else would have to do. You, a young Sokovian girl, Zemo’s wife, made sense. But after seven years, what wouldn’t make sense was if the married couple’s first meeting was just a conversation through a wall. No, the only way it made sense was if it was a conjugal visit.

Fuck.

Apparently, Zemo had caught onto this quicker than you had. His mouth on your neck pulled away in exchange for your lips, his hands captured your waist, and he tugged you fully into him so that your bodies were flushed together. Your anxiety made a quick squeak fall from your mouth, and you covered it with a giggle; you were sure that, even though the guard was gone, you were still being watched. “Seven years hasn’t dulled your charms, so it seems,” you said, and Zemo laughed.

“Of course not,” he chuckled. His hands slid up your body, carefully delving under your shirt, and he added, “I haven’t seen you in so long, it’s almost like I’m starting from the beginning.” He pulled out of the kiss, and you saw his eyes canvasing you, and he said, “My name’s Helmut. And yours, beautiful lady?”

“Goodness,” you huffed. “You’ve already married me, silly.”

“Indulge me, mein lieber,” Zemo said. Even though it was an act for the security cameras, he truly wanted to know your name. Maybe, with that, he could piece together why you were there. “Won’t you play my little game?”

You rolled your eyes, but played along. You told him your name, and he gave you a tight smile. “Beautiful name for a beautiful girl,” he said gently, and you could see that he really meant it. Married or not, you could tell that Zemo-- Helmut-- was grateful for your presence. “Can I offer you a dance, mein lieber?”

You pressed your arms around his neck and laid your head on his chest, and he squeezed you in a tight hug. Softly, he began to hum something in your ear, only for the two of you to hear, and he sighed as the two of you began to sway to his humming.

“Who are you?” he whispered, planting a kiss on the side of your face. “Who sent you?”

You swallowed thickly. You remembered that James had instructed you not to speak of him, and you mumbled, “I can’t imagine how it must feel to be here.”

“What are you talking about?” Zemo snarled, and he pushed his leg in-between yours as an “explanation” for the sudden change in temper. “I asked who you are.”

“Helmut, you have to trust me,” you whispered quickly.

“Trust?” he huffed. “You come in here, lying about yourself, and ask me to trust you? You, the bitch who claims to be my wife? That’s a big ask, sweetheart.”

“I--” you began. You really didn’t want to anger James by breaking from the meticulous plan he had made up, but you were more afraid of the man between your legs at the moment. He was a more urgent threat. You took fistfuls of Zemo’s off-ginger hair and pulled him closer, pressing your forehead against his, and you whispered, “A man came to my apartment two days ago. He said he needed my help, and he told me to come here and deliver a message.”

To the outside onlooker, when Zemo put his hand on your throat, it might have looked innocent. Not truly innocent, but certainly harmless. But it scared you shitless. His fingers were strong, and his thumb dug straight into your windpipe. It hurt, and your throat immediately began to burn with the urge for breath. “I’ll ask again,” he said easily. His eyes were a new sort of dark, not by exhaustion or confusion or arousal, but by rage. “Who sent you here?”

“I don’t know who he is,” you said quickly. “I only know his first name.”

“Which is?”

“James,” you choked out. “Light eyes, dark hair, prosthetic arm.”

Zemo’s grip loosened for only a moment, but then his thumb went back to its place. “He sent you to give me a message, didn’t he?” he asked. “About the winter. What did he say?”

You felt lightheaded, but you tried to stand your ground. “It comes in a week,” you said quickly. “Please let go of me.”

“Why you?” Zemo asked. “Of everyone in the world, why you?”

“My mother was killed in Sokovia,” you said, and fought back the urge to gag. “I only found out because I heard her name on the radio. Her apartment is still there, and James promised me that he could bypass the military blockade and get me there to say goodbye.”

Zemo’s hand fell slack around your throat, then off altogether. He took a small step back, and his eyes fell to the floor as his brain whirred to life. “He lied to you,” Zemo said carefully. “There’s nothing left. Not when I last went, and certainly not now.”

Your heart sank, and you pressed your hand to your neck, right where he had been. “You’re lying,” you said. “Th-There has to be something there.”

“That military blockade is there to keep people from settling on the land,” Zemo said. “Most of it was taken by surrounding countries, but the worst of it was… Is, just barren land. There’s nothing left for you to mourn.”

“How do you know?” you sniffled. “You’ve been in prison for nearly a decade.”

“Because I was there,” Zemo said. “My wife, son, and father were killed there. You wasted your time coming here; James can’t do anything for you.”

You hesitated for a second, then said, “But you can, right?”

Zemo froze. It was momentary, and you wouldn’t have noticed it if you yourself hadn’t said the words that triggered it, but he let out a heavy breath and resumed with the close-quarters dancing, his grip suddenly gentle again. “What makes you think that, mein lieber?”

“I’m not stupid,” you chuckled lightly. “I was young when I lived in Sokovia, but I recognized you when I saw you. Baron Helmut Zemo, locked up in a German prison; how aristocratic is that?”

“I have no power anymore,” Zemo mumbled. Sometimes, he nearly forgot his lineage, especially since the country he served didn’t exist anymore past his memories. “I cannot do anything.”

“Right,” you whispered slowly. “I figured as much... Who is James?”

“A man that I used to know,” Zemo said. “A man that I’ve never been friendly with, which is why I’m surprised that he would seek me out. He didn’t say why he was coming, did he?”

You shook your head, and Zemo laughed humourlessly. “Of course he didn’t,” he mused. “Shouldn’t have expected that… Next week? Guess I have to keep you here, make sure I stay plenty warm, huh?”

“I wish,” you chuckled. “You are rather cute, Helmut.”

Helmut Zemo laughed, the tops of his cheeks going pink. “And you tease me about my charms,” he said, his voice finally above a whisper; suddenly, the act of estranged husband and wife was back. You could easily pass off the bought of anger and crying as Helmut being too passionate, as Sokovians tended to be. “If you don’t watch yourself, Y/N, I might have to marry you all over again.”

[m-jelly]

Hey there! I wonder whether you could write a hurt/comfort scenario where the reader has gone through an abusive relationship before and now - in a relationship with Levi -, trusts him enough to tell him about it. They didn't do it yet bc she felt like she could burden him (she felt like it was to small compared to the chaos in canonverse). That's too personal, so I'll understand if you can't do it!

Happy to. I hope anyone that has been through something like this are safely out. You're incredible and strong. I've reflected on things I've been through, so there's no physical abuse just mental and pressure to do things. I might have shed a tear after writing this because I used things that happened to me.

I'll protect you.

Pairing: Levi x Reader

Genre and tags: Romance, couple, fluff, hurt, comfort, traumatic past, Levi is a good man, canon world.

Concept: As you lie in bed with your boyfriend, you finally decide to tell him about your past. You confess that you hadn't done anything physical with him because of your past. You tell him all about your ex and how you are scared of getting close physically because you don't want it to happen again. You both talk and Levi surprises you with his actions and instils in you just how perfect he is with you and just how in love you are with this man, as well as how much he loves you.

Trigger warning: Talks of an abusive relationship in the past.

If you need help or know someone who does then please contact the right people. On Wiki is a list of international numbers to contact if you are in an abusive relationship or know someone in one.

You were curled up in bed as Levi sat next to you doing some paperwork. You'd earlier had a panic attack over Levi going on an expedition soon without you. You were scared of losing the only man that ever truly cared about you and loved you, and you were also scared that he could die without feeling your touch. You were a mess emotionally and mentally at how to talk to him.

You sat up and looked over at Levi. "Levi?"

He flicked his page over and glanced at you a little. "Hmm?"

"I was abused by my ex."

Levi paused his movements, then put his papers down, pulled his glasses off and looked over at you.

You gulped hard lowered your head as the shame seeped in. "I haven't given myself fully to you because I'm still traumatised by him. I want to be with you, I want to give myself to you but I'm just nervous about it all. I love you, Levi. I really love you. I want to tell you everything that happened to me. I feel safe enough to do so. I trust you."

He turned to face you, then reached over and held your hands. "I'm all ears."

"Thank you."

"Take your time, okay?" He kissed your hands. "We have all the time in the world."

You nibbled your lip. "What about the mission?"

He shrugged. "Fuck the mission. You're more important to me."

You hugged Levi. "Thank you."

He squeezed you a little. "I love you, okay? I always will."

You pulled back and sighed. "He was nice at first. He gave me compliments and made me feel special. I was showered in gifts. I felt special, really special and that had never happened to me before."

"I get it. It's nice to feel that way."

You smiled. "He was so kind to me. Things changed slowly, it was subtle and then when it was bad I was in deep."

He lightly touched your cheek. "Did he ever hit you?"

You shook your head. "He was never violent. His abuse was emotional and psychological. He made me think that I was stupid, fat and ugly. He made me think that I needed to lose weight and change how I dressed." You fiddled with the bedsheet. "He wouldn't tell me I was fat, it would be commenting on other women's bodies who were thinner than me and say they had perfect bodies. He never called me stupid, he would talk down to me as if I was a child."

"Tch, little shit."

You hummed a laugh. "Yeah."

He blushed a little. "Tch, shit sorry. Carry on."

You sniffed and looked away from him. "I umm." You frowned a bit. "We had sex, but it uh..."

"Did he?"

You gulped hard. "I didn't really want to. He pressured me, kissed me and touched me. He pushed me down and did what he wanted to me and I went along with it. I was hoping it'd just be over. It wasn't fun, it didn't hurt, it was just bad."

Levi clenched and unclenched his jaw. "Okay."

You looked at him to see the rage rolling off his body. "After he was done, he tossed a rag at me to clean up his mess. I lay there in bed as he got himself a drink and read a book. I felt so cold and used. After our first time, he treated me like a possession and didn't want to sleep with me again which made me think I was awful. He openly flirted and chased other women in front of me. I retreated from him and he got angry at me and accused me of cheating." You welled up. "I felt like one minute he didn't want me, then the next I was all his and I couldn't leave."

He gulped hard. "How long did it take for you to leave?"

You shrugged. "Almost a month. I know, I'm an idiot but I kept thinking about the man I met and that maybe he'd come back to me." You shook your head. "He never did."

"You're brave to leave him, so brave."

You rubbed your tears away. "I'm so sorry it took so long to tell you. I thought the shit going on with the scouts, titans and everything beyond the walls was more important than my fucked up shit."

Levi hushed you. "Don't say that."

You shook a little. "It's true."

He pulled you into his arms and held you. He rocked with you as you cried. He kissed the top of your head. "You are far more important to me. If you asked me to leave the scouts with you, then I'd fucking run with you. You're my world, you really are."

You linked your arms around his neck and hugged him. "Even though I'm dirty?"

"You're not dirty." He pulled your head from him and made you look at him. "You are not dirty, you hear me? You're fucking perfect to me."

"But."

"You're cute, smart, sweet, adorable, funny, brave and caring. I love you."

You smiled at him and kissed him. "I love you too."

He smiled at you and tapped his forehead against yours. "I told you when you first told me you had a bad ex. We will go at your pace, alright? Fuck brat, if you don't ever want to have sex I'm fine with that. I don't need sex." He blushed. "Ah, but if you wanted to we'd do everything you want and I will worship your body and give you such loving aftercare." He cupped your face. "I love you and everything is perfect. We do what you want. Plus, that guy is a fucking idiot for thinking those wicked things about you."

You hummed a laugh. "You're wonderful Levi. I'm happy with you, really happy. Thank you for hearing me out, I appreciate it so fucking much. I know that I have the perfect guy as my partner."

Levi cupped your face and showered you in kisses making you giggle. "You're so fucking perfect and wonderful." You kissed you and hummed, then pulled away and jumped off the bed. "I'm going to head out."

You frowned a little. "Where?"

He pulled on his boots. "What's the name of your ex?"

You told him. "He's with the military police."

Levi nodded. "Thanks. I'll be back later."

You fell off the bed and ran after your lover. "Levi! Where are you going?"

"I'm just going for a little walk."

You ran after Levi as he stormed down the hall. "Levi! This isn't just a walk. Where are you going?"

He clicked his neck. "I just want to have a word with some cadets and military police."

You stopped a moment and realised Levi was going to see your ex. "Levi! Levi!" You ran after him as he walked towards some military police in the town. "Levi, just drop it!"

"I will." He stopped by the men and said your ex's name. "Where is he?"

You went white when your ex walked out into the open. "Oh no."

Your ex smiled. "Captain Levi, what an honour to meet such a legend! How can I help you, sir?"

Levi slammed his fist into the MP's face, then kicked him hard a few times until he got him on the floor on his back. Levi slammed his boot down on the man. "Piece of shit!" He sent a hard swift kick to your ex's dick and balls. "I should cut them off, you little fucker!"

You hugged yourself and just watched Levi. "Levi?"

He stepped back and panted. He pushed his hair back, then let out a long sigh. He looked at you. "You wanna get a hit in?"

You blushed. "What?"

"Go ahead, kick the little shit."

You walked closer and stared at your ex as he groaned on the floor with blood coming from his nose and mouth. You called his name causing him to look at you. "Fuck you." You kicked him in the dick, then stumbled back and gasped. "Oh shit." You laughed a little. "That felt good."

Levi grabbed your hand and ran with you. "Come on." He looked back at the MPs. "If you report this I'll do the same thing to you all!"

You giggled as you ran with him through town and back to the base. "Slow down a little."

He stopped outside the base. "Sorry."

You caught your breath, then gazed at Levi. "Thank you for that. I didn't realise I needed that."

"I'm glad I could help. Little fuckers like that deserve to have all their bones broken."

You walked up to Levi, cupped his face and kissed him. "I love you. I love you so much."

He smiled at you. "I love you too. If you want me to beat the shit out of him again, just say the word and I'll do it."

You giggled. "So fiesty, I love it."

"I mean it."

You smiled a little. "I know you do. Now, shut up and kiss me."

He pulled you close against him. "Happily."

[dottiechan]

ICEBREAKER Pt. 1

Read on AO3 (link in bio)

Part 1 | Part 2&3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

Pairing: Crosshair x Reader x Hunter; Tech x Reader (platonic)

Wordcount: 2389

Summary: Tech watches on helplessly as his brothers' affection for you threaten to ruin the squad.

Warnings: cursing, yearning

You’re just as cold on the inside as the ice is under your boots. It crunches with every step you take, and your heart seems to beat along with the fall of your boots, aching. You feel unsteady, almost enough to miss the tracks running in the snow right in front of you. You pause and crutch down, gloved fingers dipping into the indentations as you grumble to yourself. It’s not even your turn to scope out the area where you’re setting up camp, and besides, there is a literal tracking genius in your squad - it really shouldn’t be you who’s out here in the snow and ice, eyes straining against the blinding white of the planet, fingers freezing off as you set up perimeter alarms. And yet you just volunteered for the less than ideal task without explanation, not understanding your own decision either.

At least Tech offered to tag along, but you suspect he’s simply had enough of his brothers for a while. Not that you can blame him.

“Fascinating.”

You sigh, internally begging him to stop talking as you stand, abandoning the tracks after deciding they most likely belong to a lone whitefang. You have enough on your plate right now, with Hunter still being pissy and Crosshair avoiding you like the plague, and silence would be much more preferable right now to listening to one of Tech’s rambles.

“Did you know that this moon’s surface is almost entirely composed of water?”

“No.”

“Despite the subzero surface temperature, there are subsurface oceans underneath the ice that are warmed by the moon’s internal heat.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I wish we could stay long enough for me to study the subsurface flora and fauna. There might be plants underneath the ice that-”

“Tech.”

“-that use chemosynthesis-”

“Tech!”

“What?”

He has the decency to look flustered, one hand gripping the datapad tightly, the other flying up to adjust his goggles as he peers up at you. You didn’t mean to sound so harsh, but sometimes you just can’t help it. Sometimes, the confinement of the Marauder is enough to turn you into a ticking time bomb, irritated by the slightest seemingly innocent things. And you’ve had more than just mere sparks to flare your temper as of late.

...

His rifle is spotless, and yet he’s still scrubbing it as if his life depended on it.

Maybe it does, because if he jumps up and lowers his guard for a second, he’s out the ship and off to find you and Tech. Maybe you’re a fool sometimes, a god damn nuisance, a person he still couldn’t grow used to, but you belong with them now, you’re theirs, you’re his, and that means something to him. You frustrate him beyond reason, and he often grows callous and agitated because he refuses to allow himself to feel the emotions you elicit from him whenever you’re near him.

Even now, on an ice planet, the mere thought of you infects him with a sweet, sweet jungle fever that knocks him off his feet.

And he’s supposed to be angry now, Crosshair reminds himself. After all, you almost gotten yourself killed on Bracca, and almost broke him in the process.

“They’ve been gone for too long,” Hunter grumbles as he paces up and down like a caged nexu craving to run free. But lately Crosshair began to suspect that he craves something else, someone else, and the thought has his throat tightening in jealousy. He’s been watching, and he convinced himself that he’d misread the signs until he saw the same agitation reflect in his brother’s eyes that he himself has to wrestle with every day.

If it ever came down to your choice, he knows he wouldn’t be it, and he hates living with this knowledge.

Hunter has all the things you seem to like - unlimited kindness, longing looks, smirks that turn a little too soft when directed at you, broad shoulders he caught you staring at more times than he can count. Deep down, he’s still hoping it will never come to you having to choose, but it’s impossible not to wish to be in the centre of your attention. You drive him insane, but you also make him want to commit and stop fighting and lay down his weapons for once in his god damn life.

“Relax. They’re probably fine.”

The screen to their left lights up, and Hunter rushes across the ship in long strides before exhaling in relief. “The proximity alarms are online. They should be heading back soon.”

Crosshair sucks in a breath, worried about seeing his own emotions sitting behind Hunter’s eyes as well.

...

You were assigned to assist the Bad Batch for an unspecified period of time some months ago. You’re a versatile field agent, specialising in both stealth and combat casualty care, one of the few volunteers who were qualified enough to join the GAR. Oh, and you’re also clearly mistrusted by your new squad as they flip out the very moment you risk yourself in the line of duty. You’re not stupid, you weighed the risks carefully, and you trusted your abilities to see you through the job unharmed.

But ever since the incident on Bracca, you’re given the cold shoulder by most on the squad, and for once, the scenery matches your mood.

And yet Tech deserves better than to be cut off like that. He deserves to be listened to, and appreciated as the good man he is. You’re friends, but in moments like these, you think you don’t deserve his friendship.

“Look, I’m... I’m sorry, okay? But right now, I have too much on my mind to think about, umm, chemo...”

“Chemosynthesis?”

“Yeah, that.”

“I think I understand,” he nods, satisfied with your half-assed apology for the time being as he goes back to scanning the vast icy desert stretching as far as the eye can see. The Marauder’s lights blink in the background, orange against the dark blue of the growing darkness that surrounds you. It’s like a beacon, a sign that promises warmth, and you gaze at it longingly until you remember that you’ll have to go back to Crosshair’s scowl and Hunter’s disapproving frown and Wrecker’s awkward little smiles. Somehow, the ice is preferable once more, and the snow that just began to fall in soft flakes is little more than a mild annoyance.

“Well, aside from a few distant life forms-”

“Whitefangs.”

“Yes, most likely whitefangs - aside from those, we should be quite safe inside the ship for tonight.”

“Yeah,” you sigh. “You might be. I’m not the most popular with the squad right now, remember?”

“You are a valued addition,” Tech declares, and the certainty in his voice releases inside you the emotional equivalent of a sucker punch. All you can do is stand, and fight the sting of tears in your eyes. You’re confident, but you never in your wildest dreams imagined how difficult it would be to live up to the expectations of a special unit. You also know your worth, but it’s hard to keep on believing in yourself steadfastly when the rest of your squad doubts your every move. “Which is why the prospect of losing you elicits a rather severe emotional reaction in us. It is rare for regs to warm up to us as well as you have, let alone volunteers. Aside from the obvious tactical disadvantage losing you would mean, I believe it is a little more personal than that.”

...

Hunter knows something is off even before one of the alarms is triggered - whatever it is, it is within five clicks of the ship, making you and Tech plenty exposed before he could do anything. He was straining his ear simply to keep you all safe - so what if he accidentally heard your muffled voice, or the soft crunch of snow underneath your boots?

But now is not the time to be idle, and he knows it. He would never forgive himself if something happened to his squad. And to you, he corrects himself almost softly as he grabs his helmet and checks his weapons quickly. Despite the fact that he’s still angry about your previous carelessness, he cannot deny the forbidden yearning coiling in his stomach whenever you’re on his mind, making him just as nervous as hopeful. And to be fair, it happens more and more often as of late, which is both alarming and exciting as he never thought he’d ever have the luxury to feel this way about someone else. Sure, he knows love, he loves his brothers with all his heart even if he isn’t very vocal about it, but this is different. New, scary, exciting different, an effervescent and persevering tingling blinding all his senses.

Crosshair is beside him in less than a second, rifle in hand, silent, and they share a nod before lowering the ramp and rushing out into the freezing dusk.

When he picks up on your muffled voice, he seems to ignore everything as he breaks into a sprint towards you, hoping to reach you in time before you’re in danger. He almost misses the way Crosshair’s heartbeat picks up, the usually stoic man reeking with genuine worry as he looks through the scope of his rifle.

He can deal with this later, Hunter promises himself as he pushes down this uncomfortable feeling. But then he sees you and Tech, and he seems to forget about anything and everything - you have that unfortunate and awfully distracting effect on him.

...

“But Hunter yelled at me for being reckless for a solid hour. And Crosshair said he didn’t care if I wanted to get myself killed, but I should do it in a way that didn’t interfere with the mission. Seriously, what an asshole.”

“Nevermind what they actually say,” Tech waves his hand in mild annoyance. “Hunter was worried sick. Crosshair almost went after you. And they’re both too pigheaded to admit the real reason why they’re so worked up.”

“Which is?”

“Obviously they both view you as a potential romantic partner.”

There’s a moment of pause as you two stare back at one another before you snort and chuckle, shaking your head and crossing your arms over your chest as a futile attempt at staying warm. “Tech, you need to work on your sense of humour.”

“And you need to work on your observational skills and situational awareness.”

“My observational skills are exceptional,” you defend yourself, a finger held up in the air defiantly. “And my situational awareness is-”

“Lacking, as you didn’t seem to notice the whitefang return. I suggest we head back to the safety of the Marauder.”

Sure enough, the wild cat is there lurking amongst the ice dunes, its eyes glowing in the dark as they reflect the light of the ship. It shouldn’t pose a threat to you as it is alone, and relatively small, but you still consider wrestling with it instead of returning to the ship and facing the rest of the squad - somehow, even that feels like a fight more fair than the ones that await you upon your return. So you hold its gaze as it curiously inspects you, wishing to swap bodies and run away and avoid any more conflict. Before you can even think of returning to the ship, you hear quiet footsteps catching up to you.

“I thought I heard something.”

“It’s probably more curious than anything.”

Hunter unsheaths his vibroblade and twirls it in his hand so theatrically it makes you roll your eyes. He glances at you, shoulders all tense, ready to pounce at the slightest sign of danger, and even though his face is obscured by his helmet, you can almost see the disappointed frown sitting on his features. “You want to test that theory?”

“My money would be on the whitefang winning.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Tech.”

“Any time.”

“Relax.” The distorted rasp of your commlink is not enough to drown out the smugness of the sniper. The stand-off ends when a single well-placed shot right before the big cat sends it sprinting away into the darkness. You all turn to find Crosshair standing by the ship, his rifle still aimed at the retreating form of the whitefang.

“Well, there goes my opportunity to finally have an interesting patrol,” you mutter to yourself as you all make it back to the Marauder.

“Do all of your patrols end in you staring down carnivores?” Crosshair snorts, clearly unamused.

“Only the good ones,” you fire back, deciding not to wait for any of them as you head inside. Crosshair is hot on your heels, another string of mockery sitting on the tip of his tongue, because fuck, you’re stubborn, but he’s not going to cave in and tell you how it makes him feel to see you in danger. He can’t, however, put up with being away from you either.

Hunter lingers a little outside. He has to set himself straight, to contain all the things he wants to say you that have nothing to do with scolding you about Bracca, to kill all the feelings that suddenly demand to be felt so desperately. He clenches and unclenches his fists by his side, pretending to survey the surroundings of the Marauder. Tech moves in the periphery of his vision, but instead of following you and Crosshair, he steps closer to Hunter.

“I believe the threat’s been averted.”

“Yeah. Good job on setting up those alarms, Tech.”

“No problem. Is there anything else you need?”

“No. You should head back inside. The last thing I want is for you to keel over with hypothermia.”

“That’s not how hypothermia works,” Tech mutters, his voice trailing off, eyes uncertain behind his goggles. He suddenly places a gentle hand on Hunter’s shoulder, making the sergeant glance at him.

“Hunter, I’m only asking this because I care about you all, but... how long do you think this can go on before one of you gets hurt?”

Tech’s words echo in his mind long after he’s rejoined the squad on the ship. And Hunter just stands outside in the snowfall, watching the last rays of light disappear on the horizon, wondering which one of you he’ll have to hurt when the push comes to shove.