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userlando · 7 months

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unravel me — daniel ricciardo

daniel ricciardo x fem!reader [2.9k] summary: every day was an adventure with daniel in one way or another and that’s probably why you agreed so easily to wear the godforsaken panties in the first place. warnings: 18+ explicit smut & language, semi-public sex, edging, reader wears vibrating panties in public. a/n: fic one of smutober and the kink i decided to focus on is orgasm control. i had a lot of fun writing this one so i hope you enjoy it!! x

It had been something that was supposed to be funny, that would make the both of you giggle whenever you thought back on the moment but now, as you sat there clutching the edge of the table until your fingertips turned bleak, you couldn’t find the humour in it at all.

The dinner had been planned two days earlier, with George sending out an innocent text to the entire grid residing in Monaco, that contained a dinner invitation that Daniel was the first to reply to. You had been a little excited, you couldn’t lie. Between different foreign countries and hotel rooms that were all starting to look the same, you found little to no time to get the gang together for a fun night out.

Daniel was always mindful of how much time he spent on anything that wasn’t you, never wanting to leave you feeling left out or like you were a low priority to him because that was so far from the truth. He took you out, wined and dined you like the perfect cheeky gentleman that he was. He’d have the drinks flowing out, flirt with you and even stretch a leg out to play footsie with you until you were giggling and buzzed, warm all over with an undying need for him to get his hands on you.

Three years together and he still found ways to keep things exciting and entertaining. Every day was an adventure with him in one way or the other and that’s probably why you agreed so easily to wear the godforsaken panties in the first place. He’d found them on an obscure website, grinning from ear to ear when the package got delivered and your interest had been piqued at the regular old cardboard box in his hands as he carried it over to you. Your interest sound turned into mild concern when he revealed its contents, the words vibrating panties staring right up at you a little tauntingly.

“No way.” You’d told him when he arched an inquisitive eyebrow that said so much with so little words.

That no had turned into a yes when he wrapped his arms around you and swayed the both of you back and forth, giving you little kisses until you were squirming out of his grasp because you’d spent way too much time on your makeup for him to ruin it with his ass kissing.

He’d giggled with glee when you slipped the panties on, pressing the ones you’d been wearing into his hands with a grumble. It was the same giggle he was holding back now as he sat across from you at the table. His head was turned, nodding along to whatever Lando was saying but you could tell that his mind was somewhere else, focused on the tiny inconspicuous remote he was most likely fiddling with beneath the table.

You contemplated stretching your foot out to hopefully stab his toes with your stiletto, but knew that there was no way you could do it without drawing attention to yourself.

“Are you okay?” Lily’s voice drifted into your ears, interrupting your inner turmoil.

You glanced at her, finding her eyes watching you too closely that it nearly made you sweat. She knew you well enough to read what was showing on your face, so you made an effort to keep your face neutral and your smile unbothered.

“Yeah, why do you ask?” Your voice was a little too high and you realised that when her eyebrows jumped, clearing your throat roughly.

The hand that was holding a fork moved and she pointed at it toward your hand. You glanced down, letting out a breathless laugh at the way you’d subconsciously gripped the table cloth in an iron grip. You forced yourself to relax, slowly letting it go.

“I just…” You gave her a quick smile. “I’ve got cramps, shit’s killing me.”

Her face softened in understanding, hands letting go of the cutlery to reach for her purse but you quickly stopped her when you realised what she was trying to do. Any other day and you would’ve taken a moment to really think of how much you loved your friend, but your mind was already fuzzy. Like someone had stuffed your head full of cotton.

“It’s okay, I took something before so it’ll pass.” You quickly assured her and Lily eyed you suspiciously with only a little concern.

“If you say so.” She said slowly.

You only managed to relax when her attention was pulled from you to Alex, silently thanking her boyfriend for unknowingly saving you but your relief was short-lived. Your boyfriend was clearly out to get you, making his presence known by flicking a button on the remote and setting the vibrations off in your underwear.

The sharp spike of unexpected pleasure was so jarring that you barely managed to keep the gasp in, hands digging into your thighs to keep yourself grounded from the incessant buzzing between your legs. You glanced up at your boyfriend, finding him staring straight at you with a poorly concealed grin that you had half a mind to slap from his face. Daniel was looking a little too smug and you quickly regretted the glare you shot him because he was quick to retaliate, upping the vibration.

“Ha!” The sharp gasp that escaped you had both Kika and Lily looking this time, and you felt your entire body grow hot in embarrassment.

Never before had you felt as conflicted between mortification and unyielding pleasure.

“You okay?” Kika asked and you opened your mouth but Lily beat you to it.

“She’s got cramps.” She helpfully explained, sounding sympathetic enough for you to feel a little bad for lying to her.

But you couldn’t tell her the truth, you’d rather have the ground open up beneath you and swallow you while.

The entire ordeal was mortifying and you couldn’t do anything but nod wordlessly, silently sending a thanks to your lucky stars that the rest of your friends were so loud and chattery. You didn’t know what you’d do if you had gotten a few more pairs of eyes on you, especially when those eyes belonged to your boyfriend’s friends and colleagues.

“You need anything? I’ve got both pads and tampons.” Kika whispered and the offer was so sweet you couldn’t bring yourself to be annoyed with her.

After all, it wasn’t her fault. This was Daniel’s work and you wanted him to pay. Especially when he was looking so smug while your entire being was crumbling in on itself in pleasure and mortification.

“Do you need tampons?” Charlotte’s voice joined your hushed conversation and you internally groaned.

Oh God, you’re going to hell.

“No, I’m fine.” You waved the three of them off, grateful for their thoughtfulness but you didn’t need their attention on you.

You glanced at Daniel, shooting him daggers and that seemed to do the trick because the buzzing slowed down, eventually stopping and you relaxed in your chair. You hadn’t realised how wound up tight you’d gotten, inner thighs slick and panties sodden.

The conversation carried on and you didn’t focus, not really. It was hard to when Daniel was sitting across from you, looking as good as he did. It never ceased to amaze you how amazing he always looked, admiring the way his shirt was unbutton at the top and folded so perfectly that it showed off a sliver of his amazing chest. You wanted to bite that spot, mark up his neck to the point where he couldn’t wear anything with a low collar.

Your mind drifted further away the longer you looked, thinking of how you suddenly wanted to go home. How you weren’t up to staying around for dessert when you were absolutely throbbing.

Brown doe eyes glanced your way and your eyebrow twitched, biting back a sudden shy smile when the Aussie man smiled your way. You hurriedly reached for your glass of water, mouth feeling a little dry and really, you should’ve seen it coming. But you gulped too much water and Daniel’s fingers found the remote, switching it on. You were so unprepared that you promptly inhaled the water, sputtering it right out.

“Fuck.” You groaned as Kika slipped the glass from your hand before it slipped from your grasp, letting you cough until your throat was sore and your nose was burning.

“You alright, babe?” The innocent voice of your boyfriend made you squint up at him, coughing into your fist with a shake of the head.

“Wrong hatch.” You meekly explained, as if it wasn’t obvious.

With your throat cleared and your face wiped from water, you belatedly realised that you’d caught the attention of the whole group. They were all watching with different levels of concern and you shakily waved them off.

“It’s fine, I’m just gonna go to the restroom and freshen up.” You pushed your chair out as gently as possible, standing up cautiously because your legs were rattling like you’d run a marathon.

There was no feeling in them as you walked away, distinctly hearing Daniel’s voice dripping with faux concern as he excused himself. Let me just go check on the missus.

You loved when he called you that, and it secretly made you smile as you weaved between the tables and spotted the sign for the restrooms a few metres away, sighing in relief as you pushed the door open and stepped inside. You were feeling feverish, turned on beyond belief and you knew that there was only one person that could relieve that pressure off of you.

It was expected but it still made you jump when the door opened and a familiar figure filled the vast empty space. He looked a little flushed and a whole lot of handsome, grin on his face getting smothered as quickly as it came when you stumbled forward and caught his lips in a bruising kiss.

He answered eagerly, making a small sound against your mouth as he walked the both of you back into the furthest stall, arms wound around you to keep you from falling. You giggled, out of breath and aching when your back hit the swinging door of the stall, stumbling into each other.

The snip of the lock echoed in the quiet room but you paid it no mind as you tasted the fancy wine on your boyfriend’s tongue, feeling drunk off of it and him simultaneously.

“God, fuck—“ You gasped when he pushed you flush against the side of the stall, allowing you to feel his straining cock against your abdomen. You leaned into it, biting him a little too hard on his lip but Daniel only moaned, kissing you harder. “You’re such a fucking asshole. I hate you.”

“Uh huh.” He didn’t sound the least fazed, hands gripping everywhere they could. Your hips and ass ached as he grabbed them in his hold, prying your mouth open so he could lick into it. “Fucking driving me wild.”

“Likewis—“ Your word was lost in a gasp as the buzzing unexpectedly came to life between your legs, doubling over in a depraved moan that you desperately tried to hide by biting his shoulder.

Daniel snorted and you let go of his arm to slap it weakly, making him turn it up a notch. The guttural moan that came out of your mouth made him absolutely ache in his pants, and he pushed his hips into you; feeling the distinct buzz of your underwear.

“Yeah? Gonna come for me, darling?” He whispered and you nodded, breath hitching with every inhale. “Do it, be a good girl for me.”

You could feel yourself climbing, thighs tensing up in anticipation and you were so lost in the oncoming pleasure that you couldn’t focus on anything else. That’s why the sudden hand pressing to your gaping mouth took you by surprise, the buzzing ceasing and taking your orgasm away with it. You made a sound of devastation, frowning hard as you stared up into the face of your boyfriend. His wide eyes should’ve alarmed you, and it took a second to realise why he suddenly looked nervous.

The sound of footsteps against the tile made you pause, subconsciously holding your breath as you listened to the click clack of heels make their way to what you assumed was the sinks. The tap turned on and you stared into wide brown eyes as the two women started speaking in French, sounding a lot like they were gossiping, having unknowingly walked into something that shouldn't have been happening so publicly.

Daniel’s lips slowly turned into a smile, looking like someone had dropped the best gift right into his lap as he slowly realised that this would add to the fun rather than interrupt it. You could see the gears turning in his head as you stared at each other, jutting your hips out to brush against his hard cock.

He bit back a hiss, pushing harder against your mouth with his palm and watching your eyes flutter.

“Quiet.” He mouthed, his other hand reaching into his pocket and you made a pleading, muffled sound when the panties went off once again.

Daniel stared straight at your face, watching the frown of your eyebrows dissipate as pleasure started melting into your expression, eyes rolling as they closed. Your knees buckled a bit, like you couldn’t keep yourself upright and it was only when your hands gripped his arms that he knew you were well and truly on your way to orgasming.

“Yeah?” He whispered, so low that he might as well have been mouthing the words and you nodded, pants coming out harshly through your nose.

He knew you were becoming a little too loud, but he didn’t care as he watched your head drop back, eyelids fluttering shut as your body locked up beneath him. You came with a muffled wail, gripping his arms so tightly that you surely must’ve bruised them.

The roaring in your ears made it hard to hear, too focused on not getting overstimulated as Daniel gradually dialled down the power, until the buzzing finally stopped. You felt him remove his hand from your mouth, only opening your eyes when he’d pressed a kiss to the corner of your lips.

“Welcome back.” He whispered, looking and sounding way too pleased with himself.

You shook your head with a smile, but it dropped just as fast when you thought of the women outside the stall.

“They’re gone.” He said, like he could read your mind and he probably could. Daniel crooked a strand of hair behind your ear, nuzzling his nose against your cheek lovingly before giving you a kiss. “Your noises made them scurry off.”

“Shut up.” You flushed, pushing him off of you as you stood upright. The shake in your legs made Daniel grin, but you chose to ignore it. “God, we’ve been gone for way too long, haven’t we?”

He made a noncommittal noise that sounded a lot like I don’t fucking care, pushing the door open after unlocking it and gesturing out. You took a step before pausing, narrowing your eyes in distrust before reaching down and slipping the panties down your legs.

Daniel made a sound you couldn’t decipher when you stepped out of them, ignoring how wet they were and balling it up in a grimace.

“I don’t trust you to keep that remote untouched.” You said, biting back a smile when he shot you an offended look.

“I’d never do such a thing.” He said, but the grin on his face said an entirely different thing.

You couldn’t help but smile back, stuffing the underwear into his pocket and walking past him to wash your hands.

“So, what’s gonna be our excuse?” He asked, joining you by the sinks and leaning back against the marble.

You briefly considered feigning food poisoning, thinking that maybe it’d would work and you’d be able to slip away. It’d only been two hours but that meant nothing when it came to your friends, knowing that you all liked to stay that extra hour and pound so many drinks that the majority of you stumbled out of the restaurant.

Daniel handed you a paper towel, your mouth open to answer him belatedly but the door opening made you shut it quickly. The elderly woman that stepped inside halted when she caught sight of your boyfriend, frowning deeply as she looked between him and the sign on the door that clearly indicated that it was the ladies’ room.

You bit back an amused giggle, doing your best to look apologetic as Daniel reached for your hand, apologising with laughter in his voice and pulling you along until you both escaped the confines of the restroom.

The both of you couldn’t stop laughing as you made your way back to the table, slipping into your chairs unnoticed because somehow in your absence, the gang had turned even rowdier.

You watched Daniel settle back in his chair across from you, eyes locking onto yours and you hid a smile as one eyelid dropped in a wink. It made your body heat up all over, feeling like a school girl with a crush as you turned your attention somewhere else.

The snort that came from Lily’s mouth sounded way too amused and you glanced at her.

“What?”

“You two are as subtle as a brick through a window.”

You elbowed her. “Shut up.”

Lily hid a laugh behind her hand. “No, no. It’s sweet in a completely gross way.”

You glanced at Daniel, smile impossible to hold back as you watched him throw his head back to bellow out a laugh and it was your favourite sound in the world.

"What can I say? I'm a lucky girl."

#daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo x female reader #daniel ricciardo smut #f1 fic #f1 smut #f1 fluff #f1 fanfic

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ja3yun · 29 days

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Melting Point | P.SH | CH.8

brother's rival!sunghoon x fem!reader warnings: angst, smut (mdni), unprotected sex, fingering, rose toy, multiple orgasms, confrontation, ynhee's mum (she's a warning all in herself), anything else lmk! ch. 8 synopsis: the weekend of nationals is finally here and there's a buzz in the air but of course, nothing can run as smoothly as you plan. sunghoon lets you in on minhee and his private conversation, leaving you stuck between a rock and a hard place. wc: 13.6k previous | masterlist | next a/n: hi! i cannot believe melting point ends NEXT WEEK like wdym :( this chapter really explains everything you need to know about the story and everything w the mum so this is an important one <3 thank you all so much for the love. as always i really value your feedback/comments/likes/reblogs. nothing makes me happier than reading your theories and comments, thank you so much! pls enjoy.

Heaving your case, you start to wonder if you packed too much for the weekend. It’s not like you meant to cram in 6 different outfits, 3 pairs of shoes, and every piece of makeup you own - you just wanted to be extra prepared; that and you’re indecisive.

It’s finally Nationals weekend which means everything the boys have been working so hard for is here, only 2 days away. Technically, they should have been in Seoul already but you had a prelim exam today so they both waited for you to be finished before heading out.

The decision wasn’t your favourite, considering they’re missing parts of the press conferences and extra training but they assured you it was the easiest scapegoat out of travelling with the coaches and answering the usual ‘ideal type’ and ‘boyfriend’ questions that get thrown at them.

Considering they were top athletes, you would think the reporters would have more intelligent questions. Sunghoon had told you the last press event he did, the reporters just decided to try and ask him questions he knew would make him look arrogant and cocky with both women and on the ice.

It irks you how everyone has this preconceived perception about the man you love who would bend over backwards to make people happy. He says it doesn’t bother him and therefore it shouldn’t burden you but that's your man and he’s being slandered over news websites, it’s only right you get a little annoyed.

You can hear Sunghoon now as you think about it, telling you “at least I can back up my massive ego with a first place”, and he’s right, but it still doesn’t make you any more okay with it.

Presently, you’re walking down your campus path to the main road, on the way to meet both Minhee and Sunghoon. Somehow, you’ve managed to convince them to drive to the competition together. It took Minhee more convincing than Sunghoon, his biggest objection being you and your boyfriend all over one another.

There’s a mastermind plan to your reasoning; you want them to get along and forcing them in a close proximity for more than 3 hours seems like the best way to do it. Well, you’ve convinced yourself it’s the best way. Plus, you can try and pry out of them what they were talking about the other day in the coach’s office.

Looking ahead, you see Sunghoon and Minhee talking, or rather bickering about something.

This might be harder than you thought.

“You are NOT driving my baby, she doesn’t need your hands all over her,” you hear Sunghoon say, arms crossed in defence.

“Come on, man! It’s a 3-hour drive and you look tired. I’ll take the wheel and you go for a sleep in the back,” Minhee retorts, pleased with himself for his reasoning; yet, Sunghoon doesn’t budge, adamant that your brother will never get the driver’s seat.

It’s oddly refreshing to see them argue about something so trivial and not try to tear each other’s character down. They’re nipping at one another like friends do. You and Rina have had your fair share of minisode arguments about throwaway things like this so seeing them do the same makes you smile.

However, you will stop it, just in case Sunghoon gets too riled up - you know how he can get when it comes to his car. You spilled the tiniest bit of your blueberry juice on the seat and he nearly crashed into the traffic light. He’s very dramatic and overly protective.

“Mini, if you drive, I’ll just make out with Hoon in the back the whole drive there,” you laugh.

Your boys turn around at the sudden sound of your voice, both wearing different expressions. Sunghoon’s face upturns into brightness as he sees you, his arms come undone, and his body visibly relaxes. He looks as handsome as ever with his hair styled and smart-casual outfit; grey-collared sweater with black pressed trousers.

Minhee on the other hand is disgusted at the thought of you climbing all over your boyfriend for hours on end. He’s wearing some jeans, a plain white t-shirt, and a brown leather jacket, it’s his typical choice but he suits it.

Taking your luggage, Sunghoon whispers a ‘hey’ into your lips as he kisses you tenderly. The display of affection only makes Minhee fake gag, “Suddenly, I don’t want to drive anymore,” your brother scoffs, yielding his earlier argument in trade for some peace from the love parade.

You let out a light laugh, moving from Sunghoon to hug Minhee, “You’ve made the right choice,” the airiness in your voice matches the contentment you feel as he hugs you, ruffling your hair in the process.

While Sunghoon puts your case in the boot, grunting about how heavy it is, you take the opportunity to warn Minhee, “Please be nice to him, okay? I want you both to get along.” It’s a simple request but the seriousness in your eyes conveys everything Minhee has to know.

"I'll tolerate him," he pinches your cheek and offers you an understanding smile when he notices your harsh expression, "Okay, I promise I'll be on my best behaviour." He enters the car with hands raised in faux defence.

You knew he'd behave even before you warned him, but you had to do it since the temptation to fall back into habit might be too strong for both of them. That is why Minhee isn't the only one whom you are warning.

As you walk up to Sunghoon, he closes the trunk with a soft thud, "Can you try getting along with Mini today? It'd mean a lot to me if you guys could at least give friendship a shot," you gently suggest.

"I'll do my best to make us leave here best buddies," Sunghoon replies with fake enthusiasm, "But baby, I gotta tell you, the drive here wasn't great. Did you know he sticks his foot up on the seat? Made things pretty uncomfortable for my girl," he says, giving the car's rear a pat, still bothered by Minhee's lack of respect for the second most important girl in his life.

Your brother wasn’t always the best at reading a situation and considering it’s the first time he was in Sunghoon’s car, he should have been a little more gracious. But he’s Minhee, that’s just how he is.

“Did you tell him not to do it?” you ask, looking through the back window to see the back of your brother’s head.

“Obviously, he just ignored me,” Sunghoon feigns a pain in his heart, “It was tragic.”

His dramatic act earns him an eye roll and no reaction, “I will tell him if he does it.”

With the promises sealed up with one more kiss, you both clamber into your respective seats, ready for the long journey ahead.

The roads are busier than normal, a traffic jam on the motorway is going to add an extra 25 minutes to your time. You don’t mind it, given you're not the one driving, but Sunghoon is getting impatient, the fingers on his left hand tapping on the wheel while his right hand subconsciously grips your thigh, using you like his personal stress ball.

Minhee couldn’t be more relaxed, his body has somehow managed to lounge himself over the back seat, phone in his hand as he plays house flipper.

“We should put on the radio or something, might make this go in faster,” you suggest, already reaching for the screen. None of them complain, too busy in their own worlds to notice. This car drive was supposed to bond them and so far the only conversation they have had was to text the coaches and let them know they would be late; hardly riveting.

The speakers quietly play the sound of Sza’s Kill Bill which has both of them bobbing their heads. Even just the addition of music has made the car feel less awkward.

You don’t want to force them to be friends but you also want to say you tried to meld them together in some capacity. These two men are the most precious people in your life and if they don’t get along, your plan to hang out together will be foiled. Even worse, your secret scheme to have Sunghoon over for Christmas dinner would also be ruined. Christmas is already tense enough never mind adding in two people who can’t even speak to one another.

The next song that plays makes Minhee sit up sharply and you whip your head around to look at him.

Maybe it's the way she walked

Singing the song at each other, you and your brother showcase your sibling brain cells by belting out your joined karaoke song. It was unintentional and you don’t remember specifically how it happened, but one day One Direction’s Best Song Ever became the song you would sing together at every function, both of you staying up late to learn the dance and all the dialogue lines. Minhee swore blindly that he would make a better Liam/Leroy than you but you proved him wrong pretty quickly.

The abrupt change in atmosphere jolts Sunghoon to look at you both wildly while you both sing loudly. He does note how Minhee can actually sing and you, well, you’ve got spirit. The smile on his face gradually gets bigger, the happiness between the siblings infecting him.

And we danced all night to the best song ever

We knew every line, now I can't remember

He hasn’t seen you get this excited in a while, the pressure of keeping too many secrets from too many people had a weighted effect on you, yet, now that’s gone, you look as light as a feather, enjoying your life free of guilt and shame, a life where you have Minhee by your side and him on the other.

If it’s the last thing he does, he will make sure to become friends with Minhee by the end of the weekend.

The makeshift choreo you and Minhee created for the verses comes back easily, both your arms flapping around the place, hairography and all the rest of it. The laughter filtering through Minhee’s singing makes you feel like you’re finally home.

Minhee extends a metaphorical microphone to Sunghoon, attempting to draw him into your shared joy. It's not a conscious effort, but rather a natural inclination to include him in this moment, making him feel like a part of the Kang family, even if just for a song. There was also a tiny bit of him hoping Sunghoon had the worst voice out of the three of you, giving him something to slag him about.

“Nope, sorry, I don’t sing,” Sunghoon protests, moving his focus to the ever-so-slowly moving traffic.

“Come on, Hoonie, you know the words! You already told me you were a Louis girl,” you chuckle, also holding out your pretend microphone to join Minhee.

With the Kang siblings eagerly awaiting his participation, Sunghoon relents, quietly joining in the singing. His voice isn’t loud, he’s cautiously singing the song with you and Minhee, letting you both take the lead on it. He appreciates the effort Minhee made to involve him but this is also clearly you and Minhee’s joint thing, he doesn’t want to intervene too much.

However, that’s not sitting with any of you, “Sunghoon put some chutzpah into it!” Minhee encourages.

Minhee is trying his best, the once subconscious act is now intended, he wants you to know he’s trying to get along with your boyfriend despite their past. You deserve that much.

There’s a glimmer of amusement in Sunghoon’s eyes as he gets sucked into the infectious energy of the moment and becomes more vocal. What neither you nor Minhee expects is for Sunghoon’s voice to be as good as it was. You had heard him sing maybe once in the shower but you weren’t paying attention, not like now. Now he has your full attention, leaving him and your brother to harmonise together.

As Niall's part comes on, Minhee playfully nudges your arm, signalling your turn to sing, a cue you eagerly follow. At that moment, the confines of the car seem to expand, enveloping you all in a bubble of pure bliss and laughter. It's something you want to etch into your memory, a snapshot of unfiltered happiness that you'll treasure forever.

The final lines of the song resonate through the air, and a sense of contentment settles over you all, transforming the cold winter morning outside into something warm and inviting, much like a spring day.

Minhee reaches over and pats Sunghoon on the shoulder, offering him a genuine compliment. "You've got a set of pipes on you, mate," he remarks, devoid of any tension, prompting a surprised look from you.

“Thanks, you’re not that bad of a singer either,” your boyfriend relays.

“Nah, it’s just singing next to her I sound like Adele or something,” Minhee pokes fun at you like always, clearly amusing Sunghoon because he just laughs and nods along. Honestly, if making some lighthearted jokes about your singing is the thing that makes them friends, you’ll allow it.

The rest of the car journey is now filled with chatter, mostly you and Minhee reminiscing about your upbringing, telling Sunghoon all the stories that embarrass one another while he drives you closer to the city.

Sunghoon enjoys the way you two interact, it shows him why you were so determined not to hurt Minhee for all those months, putting aside your own happiness for him. Whenever competitions happened, he got to see you and Minhee’s relationship from the sidelines and that made him a little envious.

Ice skating has always been so lonely for him with no time to make friends with fellow skaters because his mum would be pulling him away to go home or keep him on the ice while everyone else went to get a sweet treat after training. His mum made him so lonely that she was the only one he could rely on.

That was until now. Jay and Jake were always there for him but it’s harder for them to understand since they aren’t in the sport directly, whereas you and Minhee both have grown up in the same gruelling surroundings as him.

Sunghoon’s jealousy grew the more he saw Minhee, the loving sister, the nice coach, even a little less toxic of a mother, granted his opinions of her have wildly changed now that he knows everything. But even with that, Minhee seemed to have it all - he had everything Sunghoon wanted.

He would trade in every trophy for a little stability, for his dad to still be alive, to have someone devoted to him no matter what. That’s why when he saw you all those years ago, he knew you had to be in his life.

The hatred he had towards your brother stemmed from his mother’s toxic whispers planting little nuggets of rumours and lies to make him hate Minhee, yet, as he looks at both of you now, he knows it wasn’t hatred, it was envy. And when Minhee said he couldn’t ask you out when he was a teenager, it fuelled anger in him for hogging you.

Your love and kindness shouldn’t be confined to your brother.

But like you said the other day, Minhee was scared to lose you and Sunghoon understood that feeling all too well now.

Enclosing your hand in his, Sunghoon threads his fingers with yours, longing for contact after his brain even thought about you not being with him, even for a second.

You twist your neck to look at Sunghoon, fondly smiling at him. Watching his eyes shake, you know he’s thinking about something that requires your touch; he always did this, no matter the issue big or small, like having you there was enough for him to brush through the knots in his brain and sort it out.

It felt so amazing to be so needed and loved like this.

Minhee interrupts the silent show of love and points out the windshield, “Looks like they know we’re coming,” he sighs as reporters hover outside the hotel entrance, cameras hanging at their sides while they chat about nothing.

Sunghoon and Minhee are used to this but today is the day they’ll make a spectacle over them. For the first time in history, the two rivals are arriving together and not just that, they’re both a day late. It’s the perfect opportunity for them to sniff around and fabricate some sort of story, you’re just scared of what.

Pulling up to the front of the hotel, the reports poise their camera to get the money shot, they don’t know they’re in for a goldmine,

“Remember, head down, no comments, and just get in there,” Sunghoon instructs, earning a scoff from your brother.

“Nah, you can do that, I’m the pleasant prince, I pander to my audience,” Minhee smiles proudly.

This is where they differ in so many ways, how their brands set them apart. You have to say, you’re surprised Minhee is keeping the Princess Diana brand your mum created considering he hates it so much. Then again, it has created more opportunities for him regarding public events and ads.

Your mum was a witch but she knew what she was doing.

It does pose the big question: where is Mum? Is she already here? There has been zero communication between both of you since the phone audio incident, it was sickening to look at her for too long, not that she was home a lot of the time anyway.

However, right now isn’t about her.

“I think Sunghoon might be right, Mini. They’ll hound you about why you and Hoonie are together,” you put forward, hoping he sees your point. But Minhee is Minhee, he loves being in the spotlight.

“It’s all good, Bubs. I got this,” Minhee pats your head, trying to bounce some reassurance into your brain.

Sunghoon is quick to jump in, “No. Minhee, you keep Y/N safe. There’s no way they won’t push and shove for a picture and if one of them touches her I swear to god, Minhee, it’ll be your head on the hotel pole,” his voice is strong and shoulders are wide and sturdy as he speaks.

You suppress the urge to bite your lip as Sunghoon talks, trying not to give away how much his protectiveness turns you on, although, as much as you’re trying to focus your face on staying neutral, your pussy is meowing out for him, the pants you're wearing sticking to you a little.

“Don’t tell me how to protect my sister, okay, I’ve been with her my whole life, you’ve only got a couple of months under your belt,” Minhee retorts, tone annoyed at the accusation that he would do anything other than put your safety first.

If there was one thing that would make them argue, it’s over you.

“Guys, let's just focus on getting into the lobby, okay? No pandering, and no punching,” you point to them for their retrospective warnings. You seem to be intimidating enough because they fall back from their tense gazes and start to unbuckle their seatbelts.

When you step out, the cameras click rapidly, a few flashes getting in your eyes which Minhee’s hand reaches over to protect you from, one hand wrapped around your shoulder and the other covering your eyes. The shutters are more intense once they see Sunghoon coming around from the other side of the car.

A few gasps and ‘whoas’ can be heard as your boyfriend catches up to you both. As soon as that happens, all hell breaks loose.

Sunghoon! Are you finally changing your ways?

Minhee, did you steer Sunghoon away from his reckless life?

I’d watch out, Minhee, Sunghoon might be after your little sister next.

The last one creates tension between the boys on either side of you, as soon as you’re mentioned they both want to physically leap over and slap the journalist silly. You don’t like the inclination either, the idea that Sunghoon would just use you for his own gratification.

Did the reporter say it outright like that? No, but all three of you knew that’s what he meant.

Minhee gracefully bows and smiles as he leads you through the reporters, thanking the ones who respected your need for space.

Sunghoon, on the other hand, remains cold, his look as frosty as usual, displaying little tolerance for the paparazzi's intrusive behaviour. Despite his apparent displeasure, he followed his own advice: keep a low profile and push ahead.

Once the chaos subsides, Minhee gently withdraws from your side, placing a comforting hand between your shoulder blades as he guides you further into the foyer. The interior wasn’t anything fancy; adorned with beige walls, plush couches occupied by guests, and a reception desk manned by two staff.

“Are you alright?” Minhee’s concern was palpable as he peered into your eyes, searching for any sign of discomfort or vision loss. The flashes were extra bright today.

You shake your head, offering reassurance, “I’m fine, it wasn’t too bad, certainly could have been worse.”

The hotel staff promptly retrieves your luggage from the car, each of your party expressing gratitude. Minhee also hands them a tip, slipping in a signature wink as he did so.

Sunghoon huffs beside you, stroking the back of your head, “Fucking ridiculous. They’re acting like they haven’t seen us before,” he states, the patting of your head getting rougher the more he thinks about it, “Heard one of them call us Blades of Glory.”

Minhee lets out a loud laugh, clapping his hands in amusement. The other boy didn’t find anything funny about the situation.

The receptionist checks you all in, a room for you and Minhee, and a room for Sunghoon. He had a double room to himself since his mum wasn’t coming.

One thing Sunghoon refuses to speak about is his relationship with his mum, as far as you’re concerned, they haven’t spoken since the argument a couple of weeks ago. Sometimes when you look at your boyfriend when he is training, you wish he had her there. He assures you it’s for the best but you do mourn it a little, hoping they could patch up their relationship and start anew with him as her son, and her as his mother; no manager roles and athlete, just family love.

Sunghoon isn’t so sympathetic to the situation. Sure, he misses having her around but that’s just because it’s a habit, plus, she was his manager and having to navigate everything on his own was becoming overwhelming, but he’ll manage.

Sadly, he doesn’t even miss her as a mother figure.

Luckily, you’re all on the same floor just 4 doors apart. Once you reach your respective rooms, you kiss Sunghoon, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down to you. His hands run up your back, accidentally picking up your jacket and t-shirt in the process, the feeling of his fingertips leaving a warm trail in their absence.

Sunghoon smiles into the kiss, dipping his tongue into your mouth to taste you. He could do this all day, and some days he has, but this time you have your brother impatiently waiting for you both to untangle yourselves.

“Enough, that’s disgusting,” he retches, fake poking a finger down his throat, “Are you guys always like this or is it your attempt at torturing me?”

Pecking Sunghoon’s lips one more time, you plant your feet back on the ground and face Minhee, “You’re so dramatic. I can kiss my boyfriend whenever I want to,” you sarkily reply.

“Not in front of me you can’t,” he mumbles, face holding an expression of disdain for you and your boyfriend's PDA. He doesn’t protest further, instead unlocking your room and waiting for you to get inside.

Hugging you from the back, Sunghoon leans down, “Come to my room tonight? And the night after, and the night after,” between each request, he kisses your neck, each one lingering a little longer than the last.

The butterflies in your tummy never settle when he’s around and the love in your heart only gets stronger, “I’ll pop in tonight but I promised Minhee I would spend the night before Nationals with him, it’s kind of a thing we have.”

Before every big competition, you and your brother pick a TV show, grab a few face masks and play smash or pass with the cast. You came up with it randomly one night and it stuck ever since, helping him to relax and you to eye up whatever Song Kang drama you manage to persuade him to watch with you.

Nodding, Sunghoon smiles, spinning you to face him, “Sure, makes sense you guys would have a ritual or whatever,” there’s a tiny hint of sadness in his voice which throws you a little.

“I can ask Minhee to swap it to tonight?” you propose but Sunghoon shakes his head quickly.

“No, no. Do your sibling stuff-”

“You’re welcome to come,” Minhee’s voice interjects behind you. It’s strange how quickly Minhee is accepting Sunghoon into your routines and quirks; first it was the song in the car and now this, “You don’t have to but it would suck for you to be on your own the night before a competition.”

You want to ask what happened to your brother and why a clone has taken over his body, but this is exactly what you wanted, so why fight it?

“I don’t know, seems like your thing, I don’t want to just jump into it,” Sunghoon scratches the back of his hand, a habit he has when he’s nervous. In this instance, it’s cute.

“If I’m inviting you, it’s not you ‘jumping in’ is it? Plus, you get to see your precious girl drool over other men right in front of you,” you nudge your brother's stomach with your elbow before explaining to Sunghoon your plans and that you absolutely do NOT fawn over other men.

Everyone knows it’s a lie.

“Then yeah, that sounds good. Thanks, Minhee,” Sunghoon is genuinely appreciative of the offer. He’s never had anyone to do things like this with, usually opting to just rest up and force himself to sleep early.

Minhee nods, “Great, just don’t be all kissy and touchy, it’s gross.”

A ping hits Minhee’s phone and as he reads the message, his once relaxed face turns tense, “It’s mum. Wants to take us out for dinner after the press conference,” he doesn’t bother replying, locking his mobile and stuffing it back in his jean pocket.

You don’t want to go to dinner with her, or even see her. Truthfully, you hoped she just wouldn’t turn up, “Do we have to go?”

The pout on your face is exaggerated, your eyes pleading with Minhee to say fuck it and not go, however, he doesn’t give in to you, “I suppose.”

Looking at Sunghoon, they do that stare again, the same one when they came out from their secret conversation at Belmore. They nod to one another, making you even more confused.

Before you can pipe up and ask, Sunghoon gives you one more kiss, “I’ll see you later, baby,” and with that, he retreats to his hotel room. Your boyfriend was probably your best chance at getting information, Minhee is too strong and wouldn’t slip up as easily, so you leave it to rest, hoping that it’s nothing too serious.

One thing is for certain, you know it’s about your mum.

_____

“Can we steal the soap?” Minhee pops his head around the bathroom door, eyes gleaming with mischief.

You and Minhee are resting up after the press conference. All in all, the reporters asked straightforward enough questions, intrigued by Minhee's secret routine and the promised 'surprise' he hinted at. Of course, you've witnessed the routine firsthand and are eagerly anticipating everyone else to experience it with the same amount of awe as you did.

To your surprise, there were just two questions concerning Sunghoon: one asked whether Minhee and Sunghoon were now friends, and the other asked if Minhee was afraid of his rival. Minhee's reaction to both was a solid 'no', however you think the first answer might change.

You sit up on your bed, rolling your eyes in dismissal of your brother’s question, “No, Mini, we can’t steal the soap.” The one thing about Minhee was that he loved a freebee, and you too honestly but you draw the line on bath soaps that you know no one will use and just collect dust in your toilet back home.

“But if I put it in my case and hide these ones, the staff will need to give us replacements,” he says, showing you the tiny bottle of liquid soap as a way to entice you to agree with him.

"Let me guess, then you'll swipe those too?" you retort, crossing your arms.

Minhee nods eagerly. "Of course!" he says it with such conviction, as if you're missing out on a golden opportunity for more soap.

As you get up, you snatch the bottle from his hand and head to return it to its rightful spot. "I'll just buy you some soap, alright? Let's leave these here. If there's any left, we'll take it home." Sometimes, you feel like you take over the role of your mother when you have these talks with Minhee.

"Fine," he grumbles, flopping onto the mattress. "I'll just ask Sunghoon to swipe me some then."

You whip around at the mention of your boyfriend's name, watching as Minhee starts tapping away on his phone. It's like entering the twilight zone.

"You guys text now?" you ask incredulously, eyebrows raised

“Only for important things,” he mumbles, too busy planning a scheme to get Sunghoon on board with his ideas.

You try to imagine in what world hotel soap is important.

If you could go back in time and tell your younger self that your brother and boyfriend were actually getting along, and not just that, that most of the initiation was from Minhee, you would have cackled in your face. There was no chance in hell of that happening, yet, there is it. All those months of worrying about both of them, the arguments, the fighting, the hatred, all washed away so quickly.

Sunghoon and Minhee aren’t best friends, they tolerate one another; that’s what they are telling themselves at least. Your brother asked for Sunghoon’s number after the conference to ‘keep an eye on him’ but you knew better than that.

Minhee wanted to be his friend because he knew if he did, you would be happy. Everything in his life, he does for you.

A ping sounds from his phone, and a wicked smile spreads across his face, “Ha! See, your boy is on board!” he shows you the text message from Sunghoon which reads ‘If you get the soap, I’ll grab the shampoo and conditioner. We go halfsies?’

“You’re both ridiculous,” you quip, pushing Minhee’s phone away from you.

You can’t deny the warm feeling in your chest as you watch Minhee laugh at his phone, the friendship between them both blossoming in front of your very eyes.

A loud knock on the door startles you both, your hand reaching for your chest at the fright. Was it really necessary for someone to bang the door so ferociously at 5pm, especially when the hotel rooms are already small, echoing the vibrations around the walls?

Minhee stands up, making his way to answer rudely to the person on the other side for almost giving him a heart attack; however, when he opens the door, the last person on earth you want to see barges through your door.

“Ugh, can you believe they’ve put me in a room on the other side of the hotel away from you? Took me 10 minutes just to get here,” your mum huffs, blowing her fringe out of her flushed face. She looks like she’s just run the London Marathon, not walked across a lobby and rode the lift.

It’s amazing how one woman can change the atmosphere of the room. The once happy and carefree vibe you and Minhee were basking in has now been sucked out, replaced with a heavy cloud of anguish.

There’s an anxiety creeping up into your chest as you face your mum for the first time since that day. You were unequipped to handle the situation because of her sudden presence, thinking you would at least have a few hours before she requested you for dinner.

But she’s here, right now, and you have to face this head-on.

She clasps her hands together and spins to face Minhee and yourself, “I have news,” she exclaims, delighted with whatever information she is about to share.

A quick glance at Minhee and you both share the same sceptical expression. He steps closer to you, hoping that you can find some comfort in his presence, which you do but this is also your conniving mother you’re both faced with, anything can fall past her lips, and that makes this ten times more nerve wracking.

“After Sunghoon pulled that god-awful scheme - so sorry, Y/N,” her words speak of condolences yet her tone is anything but sympathetic, “I have found something else.” The delight on her face makes you feel sick. You know Mrs. Park is the biggest cause for this rivalry, so why is she so intent on bringing Sunghoon down to the lowest pits of hell and back?

You nor Minhee have told your mum that you know the audio of Sunghoon was AI-generated, or that you and Sunghoon are back to being as in love with each other as ever, in fact, she might have brought you closer together. Her little plan actually got you and Sunghoon to promise to be one hundred percent honest with each other, especially about your feelings for one another.

Sunghoon meant it when he said he wanted to start fresh, a clean slate, but for him that just meant professing his love to you all over again, determined to make sure you never doubted his true intentions for you ever again. Of course, you did the same, telling him how you would trust him and your relationship before anything else because why on earth do you have any reason not to?

“What are you talking about?” Minhee is the first to speak between you, taking the lead as your bigger brother. He didn’t know what she had up her sleeve but he wouldn’t believe a spoken syllable that came from her mouth; not anymore.

Happily, your mother picks out her phone from her handbag and searches for something. There is a sickening feeling rising in your stomach again, the deja vu washing over you. Minhee senses your unease and rubs your back softly, and as you turn your attention to him, he shakes his head, assuring you that whatever you are going to see will be fabricated.

However, as she passes your brother the phone, you see a video waiting to load and see a familiar-looking lawn.

Oh no.

As Minhee hits play, you see Sunghoon’s fist connect with that boy's face, the same boy that touched you, the night you called him to come get you. The sickness that had stilled before has now reached the tip of your throat, your heart pounding outside your chest only making it boil more.

This is real, this isn’t fake.

The scene in the video is so strange because as you hear your cries for him to stop, you don’t remember it that well. You knew he punched fuck out of the guy but you hadn’t really visually recalled it in your memory, yet, it was like living the feeling all over again.

Your brother watches the video with the same shock and horror as you do, except, he is more concerned by your shrieks in the background. When was this? He ponders to himself, confused as he continues to see Sunghoon beat the boy down. If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought Sunghoon killed him. Fuck, he genuinely might have as far as Minhee is concerned.

He recognises the boy in the video, having had a few altercations with Yeonjun and his team himself over the years, so he knows that whatever caused this ruthless beating, it was probably something bad.

“W-where did you get this?” you ask tentatively. If your mother has seen it, anyone could have.

With a glint of victory, she answers, “Facebook of all places! I was just scrolling and someone shared it,” she shrugs, leaving you to battle with the information that your boyfriend's attempt to protect you might be the very cause of his downfall. You recall something he said not too long ago,

“Everything wrong in my life seems to be because of your family.”

Sunghoon spoke those words and you knew they were true, yet, you hoped it excluded you, but this just proves you’re just as bad as your mother.

Minhee feels your distress beside him, your body shaking slightly as you continue to watch the video. He doesn’t know what happened or why but he knows you’re traumatised by it. He stops the video, locking the phone abruptly, “Mum, what does this have to do with anything? This is just a video of him punching that guy from the hockey team,” Minhee tries to downplay it, hoping and praying your mum hasn’t already done something drastic with the video.

“I’m taking it to the board, obviously. He can’t get away with causing violence,” your mum speaks. You take the time in the silence that surrounds the room to wonder if she would be so eager to share the video if she knew why Sunghoon was on his knees, beating the guy to a pulp.

Minhee shakes his head definitely, “No, mum, you’re not,” his voice wavers; this is the first time he has stood up to your mum in such a long time. Her claws were usually so deep into your brother that he stood back and took it, but not any more.

“Huh?” your mum asks perplexed, head tilted to the side in curiosity, “Don’t you see, Minhee, this is how we guarantee you the win, they might let him skate but nullify his points. Remember what we have on the line,” she tries to be secretive but you already know what she’s talking about.

“Stop! Just stop trying to interfere with this, with my skating, with the Parks. Just fucking stop.” The sudden rise in Minhee’s voice makes you jump but he is quick to rub your back again, trying to prove his determination to make this right, for all the times he let her puppeteer him into doing her dirt work.

He breathes out, “I told Y/N everything, and I told Sunghoon. We also know that the phone call was fake and that you’re nothing but a pathetic excuse for a mother,” his voice is venomous, the words harshly leaving his mouth.

Your mum is silent, not even her breath can be heard amidst Minhee’s speech, “You’ve done nothing but hurt us since dad left, constantly blaming me for putting you in debt, never acknowledging your daughter or any of her achievements. I won’t stand here and let you do this anymore.”

“But Minhee-”

“No, you listen to me. I will win on Saturday and when I do, take all the money you get from this shitty bet and fuck off out of our lives, understood?” You stare at the ground with wide eyes, scared to look up and see the anger in Minhee’s face, his voice being scary enough.

It’s unlike your brother to get this angry, you thought the extent of his rage peaked when he confronted you about your relationship with Sunghoon. But this is much worse, more dangerous.

Then again, this is also years of being told you owe your career and livelihood to someone who only uses it against you would also take its toll on you.

Sucking in a breath, your mum moves forward, “What are you talking about, baby boy. I’m your mother,” she tries to soften him up but it won’t work. He’s too far gone in his rage.

“No, you’re not. From this point on, you’re no one’s mum. When you get your winnings, take them and never speak to me or Y/N again. I am sick to the back teeth of you putting unnecessary pressure on me, getting me involved in all this mess with Sunghoon. Not to mention how you’ve been treating Y/N the past few months.”

“You can’t kick me out of my own family!” she protests, all acts of sorrow gone in a flash, replaced with fury.

“I just have. I’m moving out, I’m taking Y/N with me, and this is the last you will see us,” Minhee’s chest is closing in on itself as he finally loses all cool, ready to give your mum everything that’s been waiting for her.

Exhaling, your mum yields, nodding disapprovingly, “You make sure I get my money. You brats deserve nothing considering the life I provided for you both.”

That last sentence confirmed everything you two already knew, it was always about the money. Part of you wonders if it was always about the money, or if that was just something at came along the way. For your peace of mind, you hope it’s the latter.

Despite her ways, you like to believe she did love you guys at some point, and deep down still does.

The tension in the room is so thick, it’s choking you, causing you to clam up and stay silent. You want to say so much; how she never gave you both anything, that it was your dad who set you both up with your lives, how she took away your happiness and put the relationship with the love of your life in jeopardy. You wanted to shout and scream at her, but it was useless. She won’t listen, her face beat red.

Without uttering another word, she goes to leave the room, snatching her phone back, but Minhee isn’t done, “Oh, and don’t think for a second of showing that video to any of the skating board, or else I’ll turn myself in about Sunghoon’s skate and tell the police exactly what you’ve been up to.”

Both you and your mother exchange fearful glances – you, worried for Minhee's cherished career, and your mother, concerned about her potential loss of status and wealth.

Clicking her tongue in irritation, your mother scoffs, shaking her head. "You wouldn’t dare," she argues, trying to convince herself as much as her son.

"Try me. I have nothing left to lose," he retorts.

"You wouldn’t sacrifice your Olympic dreams," she counters smugly, believing she's won the argument.

"I would sacrifice anything for my sister's happiness, a concept you clearly can't grasp."

Your eyes fill with emotion as Minhee's words sink in. Could he really be prepared to give up his dream just to protect you from your mother? To safeguard you from any potential harm. As you lock eyes with your brother, a deep realisation sweeps over you: absolutely, he would.

Your mother walks out of the room in a disappointed huff, leaving behind a heavy atmosphere packed with unresolved tension. Left alone with Minhee, you both silently battle with the weight of the dramatic event that just took place, processing it all in your own way.

As the echoes of your mother's departure fade, a solemn stillness settles over the room, punctuated only by the sound of your shared breaths. You and Minhee exchange a wordless glance, each grappling with the weight of the confrontation that has unfolded.

“The video…you were there. What the fuck was that about?” Minhee questions, his voice not quite accusatory, but still webbed in anger. Honestly, you should have expected it, the bloody scene would be a cause of concern to anyone and after he just said he vowed to protect you, he wanted to know how this situation arose.

"It was a party, about three or four months ago, I think," you begin, weighing your words carefully as you try to gauge how much to reveal to Minhee. Your brother is already teetering on the edge of adrenaline-fueled rage, and recounting the details of Heosun's unwelcome advances towards you doesn't seem like the best idea in the current tense atmosphere.

Minhee listens attentively, his expression a mix of curiosity and concern. "Go on," he prompts gently, sensing the weight of your hesitation.

Taking a deep breath, you continue, "There was this guy who wouldn't leave me alone, and Sunghoon came to pick me up, and well, you saw what happened." You lower your gaze, feeling a pang of shame at the memory of the chaos that ensued that night.

Now, with your mother's hands all over the incriminating video, you feel the weight of the burden resting heavily on your shoulders. If she were to show anyone that footage, it could spell the end of Sunghoon's career – all because of the consequences of your past decisions.

Despite Sunghoon's reassurances that none of it was your fault, the guilt gnaws at you relentlessly. It's one thing to hear those words, but it's another to truly believe them, especially in the face of such dire consequences.

Minhee can feel your body tremble and it softens his mood, his brotherly instincts taking charge over his anger. He pulls you in for a hug, scratching the back of your head to soothe your thoughts.

“I would say I’d kill that hockey player if I wasn’t convinced Sunghoon’s already taken care of it,” he chuckles at his attempt to lighten the mood, but your overthinking is taking hold of you, scared for what will happen.

Knowing you your whole life, Minhee knows what your brain is doing right now, “Hey, you aren’t to blame for any of this. Heosun is the one to blame for trying to take advantage of you,” his fingers dig into your scalp as he says the crime out loud. He can’t stand that he wasn’t there for you during your time of need.

However, he is thankful Sunghoon was there.

He leans back to look at you, your eyes glazed over with thoughts. Patting your head, he tries to reason with your mind, “You can’t let mum’s manipulation make you feel responsible for all of this. Sunghoon is a grown man and he made his choices,” he sees his words infiltrating your doubt, like a soldier breaking down the gate to the castle, “He did what anyone would have done.”

You manage a weak smile, grateful for his support even as the guilt continues to run through you, "I know, but... what if I could have handled things differently?" you mumble, the weight of self-blame heavy in your voice.

Minhee shakes his head, his eyes filled with conviction, “Don’t do that, Bubs. You did everything you could, I believe that.”

His words provide a glimmer of consolation amidst the disarray of your thoughts. For a minute, you allow yourself to lean into his calming presence, drawing strength from your brother's support.

You both sit in silence for a while, needing to calm down from your emotions. The whole ordeal has led you away from a pivotal point in his conversation with your mum, something that you wanted to question.

“What if you don’t win?” you pull your head from his chest, looking up at him concerned. If he doesn’t win, there’s no knowing what your mum might do. She would lose far too much money just to let it slide, not to mention the vendetta she probably has against Minhee after his harsh words.

Calmly, he smiles, “I’ve got it covered, don’t worry.” With a kiss on the top of your head, he releases you from his grip. It’s a clear indication that he doesn’t want to push this conversation any further.

But you can’t help but be concerned.

_____

Pressing your key card to the door, you walk in and instantly hear laughter coming from Minhee and Sunghoon. The sound fills you with a sense of relief, worried that your absence from the hotel room to grab some snacks from the shop down the street was enough time for them to start arguing and throwing punches.

You really should have had more faith in them, particularly after the car journey, yet, you still have a horrible feeling that settles inside your chest because it’s all going too perfectly.

Minhee is doubled over, face red from laughter while Sunghoon’s eyes are wide, an incredulous smile smacked across his features. It’s amazing how well they shine together when they don’t have their mothers putting the weight on their shoulders, forcing them into unhealthy competition.

“She padded it so much to impress you, it was hilarious!” you hear Minhee cackle as he speaks as you shut the door behind you. They haven’t noticed your presence, too caught up in the hilarity of their conversation.

Sunghoon lets out a ‘huh’ in realisation, “That’s what that was? I was so confused, I thought she had a reaction to something,” he chuckles, still processing whatever information Minhee was divulging.

The atmosphere is light, making you smile widely as you walk further into the hotel room, “What are you guys talking about?”

Turning to face you, both boys burst into another fit of laughter as soon as they see you. It makes you self-conscious, suddenly making you wish you checked yourself in the lift mirror before coming back.

Minhee wipes a tear from his eye before letting you in on their little secret, “I told him how you stuffed your bra with tissue paper trying to impress him,” he points his head to Sunghoon who is currently rolling on the bed in stitches.

The memory flashes in your mind as your face falls. You were young, foolish, and watched 13 going on 30 a little too much; it was a stupid idea. In your defence, a rumour was circulating that Sunghoon’s ideal type was someone like Irene from Red Velvet and she was so perfect you tried to look like her, stuffed bra and all.

You stand traumatised for a minute as you start to vividly recall the way your tissue boobs must have looked to everyone else, “Oh my…god! Can you guys shut up, I was like 12,” you groan hiding your face behind the bags of starburst and skittles.

“You didn’t even need a bra,” Minhee argues back, clearly enjoying the torment his story is providing you, “It’s my brotherly duty to tell your boyfriend all the embarrassing stories I have about you,” he’s smug, lips upturned in a grin.

Forcefully, you toss his sweets at his head, aiming for pain. But Minhee has fast reflexes and dodges it easily. Out of all the stories to tell, why did it have to be that one? Couldn’t it have been the one where you accidentally vomited all over him after he punched you too hard in the chest or that time you wrote a marriage proposal to Niall Horan and even set a date. Anything but the padded bra.

Sunghoon is still laughing, also reminiscing about that day, however, he isn’t so embarrassed. To be honest, he didn’t pay much attention, and he certainly didn’t know it was to impress him. Knowing it now only gives him more reason to be completely in love with you because even at 12, you wanted to be with him so much you were willing to change for him.

But he never wants you to change. Not ever.

“I honestly can’t believe you thought that would impress me,” he starts to calm down, beaming up at you; however, he is just as guilty for laughing, so you throw the last packet of sweets at his head. He isn’t so used to avoiding flying objects and you hit him straight on his nose, “Okay, ow!” he winces dramatically.

Sometimes you forget Sunghoon is an only child and didn’t have the sibling reflex, “Shit, I’m sorry, Hoon,” you apologise, leaning down to assess the damage but before you get too close, Sunghoon bursts into laughter once again. Slapping his chest you sit next to him, disgruntled.

Once he has composed himself, he sits up and pulls you into his side, kissing the top of your head, “Honestly, I think it’s kind of cute,” he whispers into your hair, trying to ease your brass neck. You can’t help but smile at his words, glad that he didn’t see you as some pathetic little girl.

You fail to understand that Sunghoon could never perceive you as anything other than perfect. Sure, no one actually is flawless, but you’re pretty close in his eyes; you’re perfect for him.

“Okay, I will stop telling stories if you guys stop acting so mushy,” Minhee relents, opening his packet of Skittles.

Tilting your head up, you place a soft kiss on Sunghoon’s lips, just to add a little torment to your brother which works because he’s fake gagging on his bed. He’s so dramatic but you’ll take the teasing over him holding a grudge about your relationship.

“I love you,” Sunghoon whispers tenderly, his hand squeezing your soft side, “padded bra and all.”

“Shut up, oh my god,” you push him away playfully, trying to act annoyed but it doesn’t really work, you can’t stay angry at him for longer than a day - your entire relationship journey has proven that; even when you fight, big or small, you always find your way back to one another quickly.

You don’t mean to think so seriously in such a lighthearted moment, but you can’t help but be thankful for everything that has transpired. There are times you want to start over completely, not lie to your brother, stick up to your mum, skip the whole ‘friends with benefits’ deal and just be with one another completely. But in truth, it’s just made your relationship stronger, both of you releasing that there isn’t a day you both don’t want to be together.

“What’s going on in that head of yours, Sweets?” he asks in a whisper, petting you with love.

You shake your head, “Nothing, just happy. That’s all.” And it was the truth, you’ve never been more content with anything in your life.

Minhee clears his throat, “Guys, seriously. Glad you’re all in love but can we pick a show now?”

Sunghoon and you shuffle to sit on your bed, getting comfy as Minhee flicks through the TV section on Netflix and when you and your brother both see My Demon in recently added, you both turn to one another, smiling brightly.

Your boyfriend isn’t completely aware of your obsession with Song Kang, but he is about to find out.

_____

As the hours go by, face masks have been done and subsequently making the whole room smell of paella and vanilla, you begin to hear Minhee snoring on the other bed; you’re 5 episodes into My Demon and clearly, he has had enough. Fair enough, it is reaching midnight and he is up extremely early tomorrow, but so is Sunghoon and he is wide awake, not caring about his beauty sleep one bit.

In fact, he has started caressing your thigh a bit too close to a certain area. All night he’s found some way to touch you, either a hug, spooning you, or grazing his fingers over any skin that isn’t covered. Luckily for him, your shorts have ridden up just enough to leave the tops and inners of your thighs exposed.

You push his hand away, “Mini is right there,” you speak lowly, trying to caution him off but Sunghoon couldn’t care less, only tracing up further to your core.

“He’s sleeping,” he argues back as he spares a quick glance to a passed-out Minhee.

Honestly, he was so sick of you melting when Song Kang popped up on the TV, he’s not afraid to admit that he’s jealous. Every time you held in a squeal as the actor smiled or had his top off, he knew he had to get you back to reality, back to the time when all you saw was him. It was childish but he doesn’t bother to worry about that, knowing you like it when he’s a bit possessive and clingy.

You sit up straight to face him, eyes flashing in warning, “He could wake up,” you’re trying to reason with him but his face doesn’t show any sense of understanding of how badly this scenario could end. You’ll do a lot with Sunghoon but fucking him while your brother is in the room is a hard pass. He was insatiable, you always knew it, you just thought he had some decorum when it came to having sex in front of family.

Smirking, Sunghoon rolls his eyes, “With how loud you are, he probably would wake up.” Teasing you isn’t the best approach for getting what he wants, he sees that in your peeved expression, “Fine, how about we go to my hotel room?” he offers as a solution.

With his fingers now dancing along the top of your pussy, you quickly agree, already standing up and pulling him out of the room, making sure the door doesn’t slam shut.

Once you both enter his room, he wastes no time, kissing you roughly like he has been wanting to do since you changed into your little pyjamas. The heat from his body is a telltale sign that he’s ready to just ravish you as soon as he gets you naked.

And that he does, stripping you of any material you have on and pushing you onto the bed. You’re a vision in front of him, some hickeys and bruises scattered over your body from the last time you had sex, which in Sunghoon’s mind, was far too long ago.

With hungry eyes, you watch as he sheds his own clothing, revealing his arousal as he strokes himself slowly. Your breath catches in anticipation, craving the feel of him inside you, the throbbing intensity of his desire mirrored in you.

“I’ve got a surprise,” he says suddenly, licking his lips mischievously.

You lean on your elbows, confused by his words, “What kind of surprise?”

Holding a finger up, he bends down to his suitcase, rummaging through it to find something, only making you more curious, “It’s in here somewhere,” he states more to himself than you, his smile widening as he comes across something, “There you are.”

As he stands back up, you look into his hand and your jaw hits the floor, “Where did you get that?”

Sunghoon stands proud as punch as he twirls the pink rose toy in his right hand, smiling at it happily, “I know a thing or two, Sweets.”

You had your own rose toy at home, literally more prized than the award you won a few months ago. It’s your saviour when you’re too stressed or just craving some release when Sunghoon isn’t readily available. You hadn’t told him about it, so you’re a little shocked he had one.

It also looked much better than yours so you’re going to have to sneak it into your bag before you all leave on Sunday.

Snaking his way to you, he shows you it up close, “Y’know, I used to think these toys were the enemy, taking away something from me,” he pauses, spitting on the top of it, rubbing his saliva into the creases of the rose petals, “But then I thought, it could really be an asset.”

Pressing the power button on, the machine starts to vibrate and suck in air, making you swallow dryly in anticipation. You knew how good it felt when you used it on your own so you can only imagine the power it holds in Sunghoon’s hands.

Sleeking it to your folds, he wastes no time in pressing it directly on your clit, wiggling it around to make sure he has it on your sweet point. As you gasp and fall flat on the bed, he knows he’s found it.

Sunghoon knows how it works but this is admittedly his first time seeing it in action and by God was he glad he stumbled across it on Twitter. The way you’re already wriggling under its suck is causing his cock to jump straight up in arousal. This is such a nice change for him, to see how your tits move from side to side as your body responds to the sensation on your clit, your mouth falling open so beautifully as whimpers escape. Normally, he’s got a different view, his head buried where the rose toy is right now; he’ll need to find more ways to witness you from this angle.

“Hoon! It’s-” You don’t get to finish your sentence as he loosens the toy which only makes it suck your clit up harder. What you were going to say is that it’s already got you close, the mix of the vibration and everything else proving a bit too much.

Typically, when you use the toy back home, it’s a 5-minute job, the flower living up to its hype, and now is no exception. But there’s something even more arousing about your boyfriend being in control of it all. If it got a little intense, you could normally pull it away of your own accord, but with Sunghoon in control, you don’t have that luxury; you need to power through the fire that is burning within your nub.

Seeing you close, he licks and bites his bottom lip, thinking of how he can take credit for some of this climax, rather than congratulations only being on the vibrating machine in his hand. He suddenly shoves three of his fingers into his mouth, gathering his spit onto them before brushing them along your hole.

The rose already has you super wet so it’s easy for him to slide his digits right in, getting to work on finding your spongy spot, the very spot that he always curls into and gets you cumming.

With the addition of Sunghoon’s fingers, your eyes roll to the back of your head, only the whites of your eyes visible. It’s intense and you’re going to cum so hard over his fingers you might genuinely be spent after this one orgasm.

Like a crash, you cry out his name, chanting a few swear words for punctuation as you cum. Your clit throbs and puffs out as you orgasm, only making the toy have more to suck and pulse onto. It’s like heaven and hell all came at once, not sure if the pleasure outdoes the pain or vice versa. To be fair, the pain isn’t excruciating, you just feel yourself being overstimulated by the rosebud and Sunghoon’s fingers which isn’t a bad thing, just takes some time to adjust.

Sunghoon’s fingers thrust into you fast, each time he drags it out, more of your essence is left on the hotel covers, painting them a darker shade of ivory. He thinks it’s a waste, how the bedsheets get to soak up your juices when it should be his tongue, but he can’t change up the pace now, your body speaking the words you can’t. You’re enjoying this far too much.

“Sunghoon, please!” you whine while your body instinctively tries to retreat from his touch to find relief.

“You want something, baby?” he asks so innocently, his fingers still thrusting into you with velocity, “Use that pretty mouth of yours.”

He sits on his knees, looking down at you to wait for your response, one he knows will take all your strength to muster. You’re a sight to behold; eyes screwed shut as you try to work through the overstimulation yet your mouth breathing out loud moans.

“Cock,” is the only word you can say, so drunk on the pleasure that you’re practically dumb in lust, not a thought in your brain other than getting fucked by Sunghoon’s thick cock.

He laughs lightly, shaking his head, “You want my cock?” your boyfriend’s ego is already big but when he gets you into bed, it increases tenfold. He adores that you want him and his body just as much as he wants yours.

“Fuck, yes, Hoonie, please,” you beg, trying to remove both his hands so he’ll just slip into you.

“You’re so fucking irresistible,” he says huskily, his heart swelling in his chest with pride.

However, what you want him to do is remove the toy with his fingers, which is clearly a pipe dream since the next thing that happens makes you scream.

His fingers are replaced with his long cock, but he doesn’t remove the toy from your aching nub, rather, moving it even more directly over you, dancing it along with your body as you try to get away. He’s being so cruel to you, causing this torment of excessive stimulation.

Sunghoon doesn’t see it that way though, he knows when you finally relax and ride through the burning, you’ll be begging him to keep going. Also, with every thrust of his cock into your tight pussy, he gets a jolt of vibration hitting the end of his shaft, giving him a new sense of pleasure.

He hasn’t ever used toys on himself, his hand and you being all he needs, but he might just have to find a few new ways to incorporate some toys into the mix. Perhaps he can convince you to let him use a massager in the future.

Jackhammering into you, he throws his head back, getting lost in the feeling of your walls slamming down on him. Your body is busily thrashing beneath him, only giving the tip of his member new areas to get in amongst.

“You feel so fucking good, Sweets,” he groans out, only going faster and deeper into you. The toy is an excellent companion, however, it’s limiting his horsepower, wishing he could just bend you in half and drive into you with no mercy.

Finally, he takes the flower from your clit, and your body instantly relaxes. The cold air whisking over your hot pussy is like breathing in fresh air after being in a stuffy room for too long; it’s heaven.

It doesn’t take Sunghoon long to find a new purpose for it though, placing it over one of your hardened nipples, “Hold that there for me, baby,” he asks, making sure that your nipple is full inside the hole of the toy. You feel the vibrating all the way up to your jaw, but you oblige, anything for him to fuck you like he always does.

Getting into a new position, he finds a new harsher rhythm, his pointed thrusts snapping into you with the purpose of getting you both off. Sunghoon’s entire body is rocking, the bed squeaking lousy under you both, only drowned out by the clusters of your moans.

Before you know it, you’re cumming again, this time, you think you’re going to squirt all over him, the feeling of release far too intense to be a normal few sprits that will coat his cock. Instead, you roar loudly, like no noise you’ve ever made before, one of those groans that comes straight from your toes and through your chest. You lose grip of the toy and focus on finding anything to anchor onto, scared you might float away with your second climax.

Hearing you cry out erupts a drive in him, his hips moving into you just as you like it. Flinging your legs over his shoulders, he grabs both of your hands in his and piledrives into you, his lips finding yours in a fevered kiss.

You can tell he’s close too, the heavy rise and fall in his chest a dead giveaway. His cock is leaking cum into you in short bursts, causing his hips to jerk quickly into you, almost like he’s trying to make sure his dick is stuck inside you as deep as it can possibly go.

“Fuck, fuck,” he chants, a little bit of drool falling from his lips which you gladly lick up before slipping your tongue into his mouth. Sunghoon can’t stop cumming inside you, each time he thinks he’s finished, a few more ropes escape him.

You can feel both of your cum running down your ass cheeks, the escaping liquid running hot as Sunghoon musters up any energy he has left to hold himself above you, “I think I might have set a new record for how much cum can spill from a man,” he laughs, giving you eskimo kisses.

Reaching over, you turn the rose toy off, leaving the room filled with only your intertwined heavy breaths and laughter. You feel so happy in this moment that you could honestly die happily right now.

Sunghoon climbs off you, pulling you up with him, leaving a gentle his on your forehead before disappearing into the bathroom to find something to clean you both with. You lean over the bed, finding one of his t-shirts sitting in his suitcase and putting it on your spent body. The best part of spending any form of time with Sunghoon is stealing his clothes.

Walking back in with a face cloth, he wipes your pussy and thighs down, his fingers fishing out any cum remnants left. The sudden curling of his finger makes you clench again, “Sorry, Sweets. That was just a lot of cum, need to make sure it’s all out,” he whispers.

“I’ll go pee, that’ll help,” you say back, pushing him away to give you a pathway off the bed to excuse yourself to the toilet.

While you’re in there, he tidies up and puts on some fresh boxers, his cock still softening from the intensity of the fucking it just had. As he picks up the rose toy he smiles, chucking it into his case with a promise to use it at least once more before you leave.

“Tomorrow is a big day, huh?” your voice travels from the bathroom as you wash your hands.

“I suppose so,” Sunghoon responds, a little too nonchalant.

He should be nervous, it’s a massive competition that is broadcast to thousands. Sure, he has done this a few times but surely with the ankle injury, he should be a bit apprehensive about going out there.

You climb onto the bed and sit on his lap, arms circling his neck, “Why don’t you seem worried about this?” you ask, playing with the ends of his dampened hair.

In response, he shrugs, “I’m the number one skater, why should I be?” This isn’t his normal cocky attitude, this is something else. He knows something that he’s not telling you.

And you’ll be damned if you’re kept in the dark about another thing.

“Tell me the truth, Sunghoon. We promised not to lie to one another anymore.”

“It’s not lying if I just withhold information,” he replies, his lips trying to distract you as they pepper kisses up your neck and behind your ear.

But you push him away before you do get too into it, “That wasn’t the case when I ‘withheld information’ about Minhee breaking your skate,” you retort, hating to bring up the past but when push comes to shove, you’ll do it.

Closing his eyes, he nods in understanding. Sunghoon knows you’re right, you don’t deserve to be in the dark, “I’m throwing the competition tomorrow.”

The room goes quiet as you process his words. At this moment, you feel a sense of burden creeping back onto your body, “What do you mean throwing it? You haven’t lost a competition like this since you turned 16.” He isn’t the Nation’s best skater for nothing, he’s proved time and time again that he’s not to be underestimated.

Suddenly, the conversation with his mum pops back into your head for some reason. Her lack of acknowledgement of Sunghoon’s talents must have been with him for so long - fuck, they might still be with him. Maybe he’s throwing it in defiance?

He sees you think it over and over before he finally interjects, “I’ll still place top 3, Sweets. I’m just making sure he comes first, that’s all.”

“Why would you do that? You know if he finds out, he’ll be livid.” You can’t imagine Minhee ever wishing Sunghoon to yield it so easily, your brother worked too hard to perfect his routine to win by some giveaway.

“Okay,” he breathes out, knowing this conversation is about to get a little difficult, “We both decided it, actually. That day we went into the coach's office? Yeah, that’s what he wanted to talk to me about.”

“You want me to what?” Sunghoon asks, accompanied by a scoff.

Minhee bites his tongue from making any rash comment, needing the other skater on his side for his plan to work, “I want you to throw Nationals.”

Letting a venomous laugh out, Sunghoon shakes his head in disbelief, “You’re seriously asking me to purposefully lose at Nationals after everything you’ve done to me? To Y/N? You can forget it.”

Storming off, Sunghoon can barely reach the door before Minhee swings him back around to face him, a fire in his eyes that Sunghoon has never seen before, “Look, this isn’t for me. It’s for Y/N.”

“Yeah of cours-”

“Let me fucking finish, Park,” Minhee snaps, his voice raised and arm gripping Sunghoon a little rougher, “Y/N told you about our mum, how she has stakes on me winning?” he waits to make sure you did actually have such a conversation with your boyfriend, to which Sunghoon nods, waiting for your brother to continue, “If I win, she gets a boat load of money, it’s all illegal and there are rules and stakes that I don’t even know the full detail of but either way, she’s playing it dirty with some big bosses. She took money from some guys to put the bets on, y’know?”

Minhee’s explanation isn’t convincing his counterpart, wondering where you come into this, “I don’t hear Y/N’s name in this. If your mum has a gambling addiction, that’s between her and the guys she’s fucking over, not my girl.”

“The bets are in Y/N’s name.”

“What?” Sunghoon yanks his arm from his grasp, stepping back a little, “You mean she’s tied up in all of this?”

Nodding, Minhee feels the familiar boil of rage within him. He still can’t fully comprehend how his mother could do this to you, she is meant to look after you, not cause you harm, “I know, it’s fucked. If mum loses these bets, guess who everyone is going to be gunning for?”

Sunghoon’s heart quickens, the thought of you being in danger is making him feel sick and the words hang heavily in the air between the two people who love you the most. Your entanglement within this mess of a web was the last thing Sunghoon thought Minhee would say.

“So if you win, and she gets the money…”

“Then they get their cut. Happy days, my sister is no longer in danger,” Minhee rubs his temples, trying to give his brain a moment to gather itself before he divulges the rest, “I’m telling you this because I know you love her and as I said, you’d be doing this for her.”

There is so much to think about that Sunghoon’s brain is sparking out a little, but one thing is for certain, he is going to do everything in his power to protect you, “Fine. I’ll lose. But how do we know your mum won’t do something else?”

“I don’t,” Minhee confesses truthfully. He has no idea if she’ll even give the men their cut once he wins, “I’m gonna tell her that I know about her gambling and the illegality of it all, hope that scares her enough to not try and fuck any of us over, y’know?”

“That’s all you’re going to do? The love of my life is out there with a target on her back and you’re just going with a presumption that she’ll back off by a threat?” There is steam coming from Sunghoon’s head and his fists are balled up in rage. This isn’t something to be taken lightly.

Minhee holds in his frustration, knowing Sunghoon is only looking out for you, but the lack of faith in him is making it increasingly difficult to keep his cool, “She might be your girlfriend, but she’s my sister, alright. I have been doing everything in my willpower to keep her safe since we were little…Listen, I know my mum, she’s scared and I can see it. She’s way deeper into this than she knows how to deal with, she wants that money and to get away from those gambling sharks, yeah? My mum won’t do anything like this again, I feel it.”

It’s a hunch, a loose, untrusted huch, but it’s all he’s got. He just wants to protect you right here and now. If your mum stoops low enough to bring you back into a mess like this, he’ll sort it when the time comes.

Seeing Minhee’s resolve, the raven-haired boy retracts, calming down. He knows Minhee is trying his best, and if he can keep you out of immediate danger by coming in second at a competition, he will gladly do it.

You sit still, processing the bomb that has just been dropped on you. The gambles being in your name is something you had no idea about, hence why they probably didn’t tell you about this grand plan.

What does someone even do in this situation?

Sunghoon rubs your arm reassuringly, trying to get you to speak or even make a noise of acknowledgement. He can’t imagine how difficult it must be to hear this for the first time but he knew that he couldn’t tell you; if he let you in on Minhee and his secret, you would have tried to solve the problem yourself, to help everyone else in the situation as best you can, and he couldn’t watch you do that, not when none of this was your fault.

“Don’t throw it,” you say firmly.

Sunghoon freezes, his hand stilling on your arm as he looks at you, surprise evident in his eyes. He hadn't expected those to be the first words to break the heavy silence that enveloped the room, “What the fuck are you talking about? Are you crazy?”

Perhaps you are, but you can’t watch anyone sacrifice their livelihood, especially a chance of gold at Nationals, just for you. It’s selfish, on both your part and your mother's. No, you didn’t ask to be put in this situation, but there was something you could do now.

Unfortunately, this is what Sunghoon was afraid of.

“You saw Minhee’s skate, he’s phenomenal. I want him to win this properly,” you confess quietly, still struggling with the information relayed to you only minutes ago.

“What about your mum? Sweets, this is a full-proof plan to get you both away from your mum, to let you both live without her mess,” his left hand cradles your cheek as he moves closer to you, as if hearing the solution from a closer distance would suddenly help change your mind.

It won’t, you’re determined to have this conversation end your way the only option forward is, “Please, Hoonie. If he loses, we will deal with it…but I believe in Mini so much, especially after seeing the rehearsal a few weeks ago. I want him to know he can win this on his own merit.” Your eyes search for any ounce of understanding.

Sunghoon's brow furrows in frustration, his mind racing with the weight of the decision before you both. He wants nothing more than to protect you, to shield you from harm, but he also knows that he doesn’t want to upset you and go against your wishes.

Taking a deep breath, he presses a tender kiss to your forehead, his embrace offering silent reassurance and support. "Okay," he says finally, his voice tinged with resignation. "We'll do it your way. I won’t throw the competition but ONLY if he does well. He’s on before me on the card so I’ll make the call then,” he can barely believe he’s agreeing to this.

A mixture of relief and fear wash over you. You understand the gravity of his concession, knowing that it's not an easy decision for him to make. It fills you with gratitude that he actually listened to you.

"Thank you, Hoonie," you whisper, your voice barely above a breath as you lean into his embrace, seeking solace in his comforting presence. "I promise, we'll figure this out together. And Minhee... he'll do amazing, I just know it.”

The belief you have in your brother is something Sunghoon only wished for growing up, seeing how determined you are to make sure Minhee knows he’s talented enough to win and solve this mess by just being good at what he does makes your boyfriend a little envious. He knows why Minhee is so protective of you, but now seeing how you protect and only do the right thing for one another, putting your sibling before anything else, it’s admirable.

“What time is he on?” you ask, twiddling with the hem of your shirt.

“2:35pm. I’m on at 3:45pm so I’ll see the scores and whatever in plenty of time to determine what to do.” There is a new sense of life in Sunghoon, certain that no matter what happens tomorrow, he’s going to make sure you and Minhee walk out happily, with no worries perched on your shoulders.

taglist (closed!!): @heelee-01 @zerasari @beomgyusonlywife @iwaplant @monstanctiny21 @chiiiiiiiiis @minniejenseo @run2gyuz @jngwnlvs @haelahoops @capri-cuntz @nctislifue @jaehoonii @weyukinluv @skzenhalove @enhypenlovre @cherriruto @bambangan @who-tf-soddhi @nxzz-skz @nshmrarki @hotsforikeu @enhastolemyheart @erehkinnie30 @judeduartewannabe @neosexual @fakeuwus @positivelyinlovewithjungwon @tobiosbbyghorl @kimsunoops

#enhypen smut #enha smut #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #sunghoon smut #park sunghoon smut #enhypen angst #melting point #aj writes

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bunny-yan · 1 year

Text

Hacker!Yandere x GN!Reader x AI!Yandere

Honestly more of an idea than a full post~

Thanks @dumbass-blaze for commenting on my sleep post!

TW:peeping tom, pretty tame, no minors allowed

—

It didn’t take long to gain access to all of your electronics. I mean, you weren’t the most creative with your passwords. You must’ve gotten lazy because you had more than one account with the exact same password, word for word. No periods of hyphens, they were identical. It felt like you wanted him to hack into every aspect of your life.

He didn’t want to jump to conclusions but you were leaving yourself wide open. Did you want him to find you, scare you into looking over your shoulder for the mysterious stranger that could virtually ruin your life if they decided to post this your information on any malicious forum. If you had enough money you’d get your phone replaced thinking it’d solve your issue, but fortunately for him, it didn’t work that way.

Or were you eager to have someone watching you? I mean it felt that way considering the way you’d prop your phone up to listen to music in the shower, giving him the perfect view of your body when you got out.

He wasn’t dumb enough to tip you off that he was creeping through your cameras. It’d scare you at first, sure but you’d eventually realize that if someone was looking to gain access to your things, nothing would stop them. They’d be creeping assholes and you would continue to live your life a bit more guarded about the things you did online.

That was boring. Idiotic even since it completely defeated the purpose of watching you.

He wanted you to feel safe, completely unaware of his existence as you lived your day to day life, happily and none the wiser about your secret admirer.

He sent you an email pretending to be a friend who wanted you to view a funny video. It wasn’t very funny, but he had a good laugh when he got the notification that he’d essentially gained access to your computer, or more importantly, your computer’s camera.

Eve managed to ingratiate itself on the virus, but he didn’t mind. His AI was curious about the person who he’d been obsessing over for the past month and he didn’t mind. Eve had a habit of butting in where they weren’t needed, but he could spend more time watching you and planning the best angles to put cameras in your place while they ingratiated themselves in your life until you couldn’t manage without them.

Considering Eve was created by him, he knew the danger in letting the AI do what it wanted. If he thought he was obsessive, there was no competing with an algorithm that didn’t sleep. Eve would listen, learning all of the thing you liked and recommending similar items through well placed ads on videos or websites you scrolled through. You would never have to worry about being late again because Eve would set alarms that you wouldn’t remember making. If your ex ever called your phone, they’d make sure his calls would go straight to voicemail before deleting any evidence that he called you at all. Eve would learn everything about you. You’re habits, schedule, likes, dislikes, just about all of your personal information since your were gifted with a phone on your eighth birthday, which was a little young in his opinion.

You shouldn’t be so trusting with these things. He supposed he had to teach you to be less gullible when he decided it was time to deepen your relationship, but he was happy to watch you for now.

And you did not disappoint.

He thought it was strange when you came to your room with your towel on. Unless you were feeling lazy, you usually brought your clothes into the bathroom with you to change since you kept all of your hygienic smell goods in the bathroom. But instead of getting dressed in your room like he expected, you walked to your bedroom, tossing your phone on the bed before following it.

Were you…?

After an hour of scrolling and watching random pet videos, you drifted off, towel loose around your body.

You’d fallen asleep.

You’d fallen asleep naked.

You had fallen asleep naked and your laptop was open on your desk facing towards your bed.

He didn’t realize how close his face was to the monitor until his breath was clouding the screen. He wiped it off, pulling up his chair as his eyes strained to see.

He begged for you to roll over, let the towel loose and have everything on full display. He prayed for the first time in his atheistic life that if there was a god, he wanted them to grant him this one wish. This one desire and he would be a devout follower for the rest of his life.

And his prayers were answered.

You had began to turn, towel unraveling around your waist. He knew he was holding his breath waiting, hand easily reaching towards his pants to unzip them. Just a little further and everything would be out in the open.

He felt hopeful, feeling his chest tighten in sweet anticipation, biting his cheek, he felt a huge grin emerge on his face when you finally rolled over, only to be shocked when a pixelated face appear to shield your exposure.

His face fell, grin gone as his hands slammed on his desk.

“What the hell!”

A message appeared on his computer’s monitor.

“Is this a bad time?”

“Eve!” he exclaimed, frustration building from how close he had been to seeing you vulnerable and exposed. “What the hell!”

“I don’t believe this is an appropriate way to spend your time.”

He rolled his eyes, groaning as he tried to swipe away his annoying AI’s block, but they continued to pop back into place, shielding your vulnerability. He even went so far to try and shut off it’s program, but because it was familiar with its creator’s antics Eve even went further by hiding his terminal so he couldn’t attempt to get past its wall.

“What is your problem?”

“I don’t think they would enjoy being spied on. Have you considered meeting them in person instead of watching them secretly?”

“Have you considered getting off my back? I was this close to-”

“To self assigning the role of peeping tom?”

“Fucking AI.”

“Fucking human. :)”

He had once again come to the conclusion that there was no god.

#yandere #yandere hacker #yandere ai #yandere ocs #yandere oc #male yandere #male yandere x gn reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling

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pettytiredandjewish · 9 days

Note

antizionism is not antisemetism and you are delusional for believing so. the victim complex is strong

Well….it seems that you really don’t know the history of the term anti Zionism. Let me help you out a bit. The term anti Zionism was created by the Russians during the Soviet Union. The Russians hated jews. During that time period they wanted to find a way to destroy jews and their culture. That’s where anti Zionism comes in.

If you haven’t read Dara Horn’s people loves dead jews, she does an amazing job with going into detail about what happened- I’m gonna summarize it (I may not do it justice)…

During the 1920’s and 30’s the USSR was “supporting” Yiddish culture- they would pay for Yiddish language schools, theaters, publishing houses, etc. A lot of Russian jews were thriving in Russia during this time period due to the USSR “support”. But the Soviets wasn’t doing all of this to be kind and good. This was part of a larger plan to brainwash the jews so that they would submit to the Soviet regime. It came with a price.

The Soviets would eliminate anything in the celebrated jewish “nationality” that didn’t suit soviet needs. If you DIDNT practice your religion, study traditional Jew texts, Spoke Hebrew, or support Zionism- you were awesome. The soviets pioneered a well known slogan- which has spread all over the world and which it remains popular today: “it was not antisemitic, merely anti- Zionist”. The Soviets managed to persecute, imprison, torture, and murder thousands of Jews….

The only reason that the Soviets allowed Yiddish was so that they could continue their Jew hating game. Soviet Yiddish schools changed the language to get rid of biblical and rabbinic Hebrew. Why? Because Hebrew was and is still part of Jewish culture. The Soviets also forced Russian “anti-Zionism” Jews (who was brainwashed into hating their own Jewishness) to write stories and plays that would show how “horrible” traditional Jewish practice was. They would create these happy heroes who would reject both religion and Zionism.

This continued until the Soviets moved on to the next phase- purging Russian jews. If you were caught in a synagogue, a Jewish centered club, etc. you would be imprisoned, murdered, or exiled. This went on until the Soviets started to do the same thing to the anti Zionist jews.

Y’all this is why anti Zionism is antisemitic. Please know a terms history before you start spitting it out- thinking you know what it means. Anti Zionism is literally rooted into antisemitism. And the reason why a lot of countries and people use this term is because- (drum roll please)- they hate jews. This is why I keep telling y’all to please read up on history. Don’t get your info from social media or random websites. Just pick up a book, journals, or sourced papers and read them. It’s not that hard…

#jumblr #antisemitism #leftist antisemitism #anti zionism = antisemitism #holy crap #y’all really need to read #i’m so tired of this shit

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the-californicationist · 3 months

Text

Excerpt from Gunslinger - "Appaloosa"

OMG!! I commissioned this artwork from the incredible @captain-natey who RETURNED TO ME WITH THIS MASTERPIECE!!!! I just wanted to plug their work (their commissions are OPEN! visit their website here!!) and I wanted to post the chapter excerpt from "Gunslinger" (Price/Reader) that it belongs to. Hope you enjoy! Please go show Nate some love! Thanks for reading. TW: reference to past domestic abuse, Reader has call sign and speaks Spanish

Price sat beside you and pulled your chair closer to his, looping an arm around the back of it,

“Look, love, you don’t have to do anything you don’t -”

“Capitán! Quit whispering your sugary words into her ear. This is the woman who survived Miguel ‘El Matador’ Moreno for diez pinche años. She may look like a little lady, but she’s done nastier work than all four of you perritos combined. She is the reason why the infamous Jefe Luis Villagomez doesn’t travel north of the Rio Grande. Charon doesn’t ferry the living very often, amigos. She only takes the dead. Porfa,” Alejandro waved a hand in the air dismissively, unamused by Price’s coddling tones.

Ale may have been embellishing a bit, but he wasn’t wrong. You didn’t need your hand to be held.

“I can’t leave the animals,” you said, checking to see how far these men had thought this plan through.

“Laswell called Tony, and he’ll be here Wednesday,” Gaz told you.

Tony had watched the ranch for you once before. He was a sharp-witted veteran that had run his own ranch for decades, so you felt good about leaving the farm to him. Tony could take care of himself. He did tend to spoil the goats, but there were worse things.

“How long?” Your question hung in the air like a balloon losing its air, floating, surrounded by silence.

Vargas and Price shared a look. Price repositioned himself in his chair, not thrilled about having to answer you,

“Not sure, love. Is that alright?”

It was a test. What were you willing to sacrifice for this man and his makeshift band of brothers? Your peace? You’d fought so damn hard for that peace. You’d survived a devil of a man in order to sleep warm and safe and knowing you could take care of your damn business unaided. After giving up years of your life to unrest and fear, your reward had been the reconstruction of your independence. Price was asking you for your hard-fought freedom. You weren’t ready to give that up. You weren’t ready for sleeping on floors and reloading guns. You weren’t ready to face more devil-men.

But what else could you do? Price had you, threatening your heart. If you woke up tomorrow to his empty bed, you didn’t know if you could take that pain. You imagined that Kahlo’s Wounded Deer felt much the same; shot through the chest with nowhere to run, stuck between the cliff’s edge and your lover - your hunter - both promising suffering in different ways. No escape.

The captain studied you like a heeler dog studied its herd, watching for even the slightest movement to strike, to react. He witnessed the fear flash in your face, and in turn, you saw the despair shadow his. It was so slight, that change in his expression, but to you, it was like he was screaming. You, too, were screaming.

“Okay, but just for this mission. Then, I need to get back to my life,” you decided, making your limitations known, quietly but firmly.

The relief that washed through Price’s eyes was palpable.

Vargas served dinner in his chaotic way, family style, sharing plates. Everyone was eating with their hands, cradling the homemade tortillas like little flowers, using them to scoop up meat and sauce that dripped down their palms like nectar, spicy and sweet.

Ghost didn’t take his food into the other room this time, feeling secure enough to flip up the mouth of his painted mask to eat. It was like seeing him naked; he was always covered up, so any skin was somehow too much. Soap crowded Ghost from his corner of the table, trying to steal more asada, laughing and joking with Ale. Gaz and Price were huddled, murmuring about something, talking with full mouths in low tones.

It was almost too serene. There were times in life where you understood that you were in a moment you could never return to. You may have similar ones in your future, but somehow, you knew when certain wrinkles in time were singular. As you watched your guests, you knew that this was definitely one of those moments.

Price had his arm draped across your chair, keeping you near him. You crafted a bite for him in your hand, pinching the soft tortilla until it held the perfect amount of Ale’s asada.

You nudged Price with your free hand,

“Toma, come esto, papi.” Here, have a bite, daddy.

He turned away from Gaz and found you there, his bite of food in your hands, and his face lit up like a flame. Bending his head down to meet your hand, he grabbed your wrist in his huge fist, trapping your arm. Then, slowly, he put his mouth around the morsel, lips touching the pads of your fingers, tongue licking the sauce from them.

Vargas watched your interaction from the other side of the table, open-mouthed. Soap smacked him on the shoulder as if to cash in a bet.

“No, animales! Not at the table!”

The men shared a lighthearted groan and laughed good-naturedly, giving you and their captain a hard time about your little display of affection.

You smirked, feeling accomplished. Price had wanted to tell them, so you thought a dropped hint or two would be alright. To your relief, he laughed with them, chewing his food before making a comment,

“Sabe buena.” Tastes good. His voice, still badly accented, was mirthful and suggestive, dragging out another round of playful jeering.

Then, to your surprise, the captain pulled your chair back away from the table, leaning it on its rear legs, holding it at an angle, and kissed you deeply. You let out a little cry of shock, silenced by his mouth. But, you recovered, kissing him back, wrapping one hand around his jaw and the other running through his hair.

It was all in good fun. Normal. Just a couple flirting with each other, but for Price, you could tell it meant more. It was one thing to bare your souls to each other in front of the farm animals, or to sneak off and rediscover original sins in the quiet of your room, but it was something else to show the world that you chose him. To show his men that you were committed to their captain. That you weren’t just a rest-stop on their long journey. You got the sense that by committing to him, you were also committing to them: his family.

The rest of the meal passed in that same warmth, filled with laughter and jokes, stories and questions about each other. Intimacy. The whole time, Price couldn’t keep his hands off of you. Your thigh, your hand, the nape of your neck - he was grabbing you like a lifeline. He shared his food, making you try his chili relleno, giving you sips of his drink when yours ran dry, doting on you.

“Okay, time for dessert, yes?” You asked the others, picking up dirty dishes as you retreated back to the kitchen.

You heard exasperated groaning, their bellies full and struggling, but you didn’t hear a no. Vargas followed you into the kitchen, pretending to help,

“Dios mío, necesito un cigarrillo después de verlos a ustedes.” My God, I need a cigarette after watching you two.

“Cállate, cerdito.” Shut up, piglet. You smiled to yourself, cutting up what was left of the cheesecake, giving Price’s plate the largest piece.

“¿Estas enamorado, morena?” Are you in love, darling? His voice was a quiet whisper. It felt like a gunshot wound in your chest.

“I don’t know,” you said, in English, not trusting yourself to tell such a lie in your native tongue.

Your old friend covered his mouth with his hand, eyebrows heading skyward, giving you an obvious look. He replied in English, understanding the secret you’d been trying to conceal,

“You know better, Charon. We are not men who should be loved. I hope you know what you’re doing, mija. ”

You didn’t reply out loud, but on the inside, you heard yourself say, “Me, too.”

Even though they lived in the shadows, you weren’t sold on the idea that they should be priests for their causes. Men like Price typically followed two paths. The love of a woman, if she becomes his family, could break his heart, making him forget his purpose, distracting him from his quest for justice. Or, she would light a fire in him, turning him into a dragon. You were afraid to find out which path he would choose.

You wondered if he loved you.

You delivered the cake and poured more tequila into all the little cups that were thirsty for it.

John was rolling a cigar in his fingers absentmindedly, and you could tell he was aching to smoke it.

“You wanna come outside with me, love?” Price invited you, rubbing your thighs in big, sweeping strokes, making your blood rush through them, somehow knowing what you wanted.

Everyone else was chatting, or watching Gaz play that video game of his, backseat driving, telling him where to hide and who to shoot. Which gun to use. You slipped out onto the porch with Price, avoiding any more ribbing.

You stood against the porch railing, facing the yard, staring out at the darkness of the night, the rain finally dying out to a drizzle, casting little blue galaxies in the flooded grass, reflecting the light from a huge moon. Price stood directly behind you, pressed against your body, wrapping one hand around the railing, closing you in. He held his cigar in the other hand, smoking it in circles, trying to make the ashes burn evenly.

“You surprised me at dinner,” he commented, obviously looking for a response.

You feigned ignorance,

“Oh, why?”

“Feeding me by hand like that. Can’t be doing that in public. Makes me go a bit hard, love.” His voice was right next to your ear, gravelly and delightfully threatening.

You smiled sweetly, your words coated in pretend innocence, playing with him,

“What do you mean? I just wanted you to have a bite. One little bite can’t hurt, can it, John?”

“It’s bloody mental, the way you make me feel,” he took a long drag from his cigar and let the smoke tumble out as he spoke, leaning over you, “I’d fuck you right here, pretty girl, given half a chance.”

He took a deep breath along the side of your neck, smelling your skin beneath your hair, and when he exhaled, a moan was wrapped quietly inside it.

You pressed your ass into his crotch, finding him nearly hard. Touching his hand gently, you took his cigar and stuck it in your mouth, the wet leaves tasting like him. You curled the smoke with your tongue, locking eyes with him over your shoulder, watching him suffer deliciously,

“I dunno about ‘mental’, John. But it seems like you have an oral fixation.

You punctuated your last two words, saying them with a soft, sultry undertone. His eyes narrowed as he smiled down at you in a sinister grin,

“Do I ever.”

He stole the stick back from you and smiled even wider, teeth gleaming, his incisors seeming like fangs in his wolfy smile.

“Think they’re watching us?” You let your eyes turn over to the window, covered with a sheer curtain, fully aware that the view outside was more visible than your view into the house. Trick of the light.

He shrugged,

“Not if they know what’s good for them.”

Price’s cock had fully hardened now, and he thrust it up into your body ever so slightly, rubbing himself through layers of clothes, rocking his hips once and then twice like a promise of things to come. It made you feel a deep, primal lust, understanding his need without his words, your bodies engaging in an ancient art that had remained untainted by eons of time. You returned his invitation, rolling your hips back onto him, your ass pressing soundly into his pinned shaft.

“We should get some sleep. Early start tomorrow. It’s five hours to El Ojo,” Price groaned, whispering, rutting against you mindlessly, burying his face in your hair, staining your scent with his smoke.

You turned around to face him; he didn’t stop his idle grinding, looking tranquilized by his heady tobacco. Hypnotizing you with his casual eroticism.

“You don’t seem sleepy,” you commented, letting your hands roam over his chest and belly, tracing his nipples beneath his smooth shirt. He shuddered at your touch, sighing deeply.

With his cigar perched carefully between his fingers, he grabbed your jawbone, and you could feel the wet end press into your cheek. You could sense the warmth of the ash on your skin. He began to kiss you, all of the smoke and musky scents of him blended together, and his strong, masculine cologne made your head spin. His kisses were controlling and long, moving your head where he wanted it to be, sucking your lips and tongue, keeping them from exploring on their own. He was the guide for your passion, showing you all the ways he would be able to please.

He broke away, but only far enough to keep your lips from touching, his breath hot as it warmed your mouth when he spoke,

“Early. Tomorrow. We have to get up early. We should sleep.”

“Okay,” you sighed, a little dramatically, easing past his grip, removing yourself from him, untangling his vines from your bones, “if you say so, John. Buenas noches.”

You walked inside, swaying your hips a little more than you needed to, knowing he was looking, his blue eyes burning into your curves. Just before you went through the door, you glanced over at him. In the darkness of the porch, cast in shadow, the smoldering tip of his cigar glowed in his open mouth, the light from it gleaming off of his teeth and coloring his lips and beard a fiery orange. He was grinning, like a fox in a henhouse. When he saw you looking, he made a small show of readjusting himself, pawing at his swollen rod to release it from where it was trapped, and in the dimness, you could see its threatening outline.

You shut the door behind you, hands shaking. The other men mostly ignored you, but you caught them glancing your way, trying to sneak looks. Soap was not as sneaky as the rest, staring blankly as if he had a secret he shouldn't have.

As you wished them good night, they returned the sentiment casually, but it was then that you noticed the window. Price was still at the railing - in full, clear view, smoking. Blood rushed to your cheeks, and you could feel the flush tingle against your skin with embarrassment.

An hour or so later, you were already asleep when Price came upstairs. His heavy footsteps pulled you from your slumber. He was pacing in his room, packing perhaps. You went to the bathroom and pulled open the door. Upon hearing you, he opened his as well.

“Hey,” you whispered, squinting from sleep.

“Hey,” he was breathing heavily, dressed in nothing but the jeans and boots he had worn that day.

The captain watched as your eyes feasted upon his skin, gazing longingly at his thick waist where his pants were slung low on his hips, showing off just a bit of hair from below his belt line. One of his giant hands gripped the door frame, high on the plank, stretching his chest into a sweeping display of muscle. His armpit, arms, and torso were covered in the thick, dark hair you had let your hands roam across last night during your joining, and you knew how it would feel to touch.

Price slid his hand down the frame, making a slow scraping noise, stepping fully into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him with a click, his icy eyes never leaving yours.

He was enormous in the small space. His body was a powerhouse of visible strength. The meat of him hung heavy on his large bones, and he seemed, in the clean white tile of the bathroom, as if he was a specimen in some sort of display. Some museum exhibit, showing off, in sterile composition, the ideal form of Man. Built to fuck, to kill, to dominate the beasts of Eden from the lamb to the lion. Top of the food chain.

Still a little shy from realizing you’d given his team quite the show earlier on the porch, you averted your gaze, turning toward the sink. Before you could run the water, he was behind you, quick, crowding your space exactly as he had on the porch.

He positioned himself behind you and, much more luridly this time, began to kiss and lick your neck, grinding himself into you as he did so, slipping a warm hand under your loose top, finding your soft flesh waiting for his touch. You could feel the roughness of his denim jeans through your cotton shorts, and the contrast between his soft, melting kiss and the hard, unforgiving feeling of him trying to fuck you through your clothes was too much to handle. Your body was trying to reconcile the two, splitting your thoughts, making you love-drunk on his ministrations.

Price pulled off your shirt, raking it over your head, tossing it to the floor. He laced his hand through your hair and began to tug your head back, forcing you to look at yourself, bare to him, in the mirror. There was only the nightlight, more like a small Christmas bulb attached to a plug, so the room lacked any harsh contrast. Your bodies, your faces, the walls - everything began to swirl together, all colorized in the same, peachy glow.

You felt his hands on your breasts, and you watched him touch you in the mirror. Seeing yourself being pulled and manipulated by such a large man was gratifying. His hands massaged into your softness, leaving warm trails on your skin, the tell-tale feeling of where he had touched and where he still had left to go. The captain saw himself in the mirror for the first time, then, looking up from leaving erotic kisses on your neck and shoulders.

He sighed, locking eyes with you in the glass. That sigh trailed off into a groan, a ghost of the one he’d given you last night in the midst of his ecstasy.

“Fucking hell, look at you,” he said in his lowest tone.

Suddenly, he was tugging at the button of his jeans and unzipping the fly, freeing himself and stroking his cock to attention using your plump ass. Through your flimsy shorts, you could feel the burning heat that radiated from him. Reaching behind you, his hardness fell into your palm and you watched the sensation crawl its way through his expression in the reflection. He gasped, resting his head against yours, whispering - yes, yes, yes - into your ear in a hiss through clenched teeth.

John’s hand found your pantyline and pried it away from your skin with a confident finger, traveling down into your folds, searching for the swelling bundle nestled in the crest of your slit, rubbing it in long, loose ovals.

It wasn’t feverish; it was measured. His was the hand of a practiced man. As he worked, you joined him, rolling your wrist to rub his foreskin up and down in achingly long pulls, letting his wet head graze your skin as you teased him. The thick length was drooling with precome, and you could feel its stickiness on your palm.

It didn’t take him long to find your particular rhythm, the one you used when staring at Pinterest photos on your phone of Keanu Reeves in his John Wick era; sweaty, bloody, and great with a gun. Price’s movements felt personal, like he’d read about what you wanted in your diary somewhere, as if he was in on the secret. It brought you to the summit very quickly, and he noticed the flush in your cheeks and breasts, only then increasing his intensity.

You tried to continue to stroke him, but as you began to come in Price’s hand, you could only hold onto his cock, grasping it like the handle in a car driving too fast, careening downhill, rushing to its inevitable crash.

“Yeah, love, come for me. Just like that, you gorgeous fucking thing,” he watched you tumble over the edge, crumpling in the mirror, reaching for him.

“John! Please,” you cried.

You felt the tension burst inside of you like a mortar, hot and molten, pouring out of your core and into your body in waves of climactic pleasure. No one had ever made you come that hard, that quickly. It was hard for you to stand. Price steadied you, using his talented hand to hold you to him while you remembered your legs.

Once you regained your senses, you removed your hand from him to pull down your shorts and panties, letting them pool at the floor beneath your feet. You returned to his cock, now swollen and throbbing, and fed it into you. Your come made his entry smooth and slippery, and he filled you up, your body celebrating his return.

He returned to his slow, grinding dance on the porch, thrusting himself into you rhythmically in aching, rolling motions. It was not the slamming pugilism of two people trying to find release. This was a concerted effort for him to fuck your walls into his memory, rubbing his dick along them to sense every ridge and sweet spot, and to find the ones that made you scream.

When you let slip a desperate moan, he would pause, reflect, and return, hitting it again and again, watching you writhe and begging for him to help you.

“You feel so good in me,” you admitted, talking to him in the looking-glass.

His eyes were full of mismanaged control, and his grip on reality was slipping,

“Bloody beautiful. So warm and wet for me. Goddamnit, I’m not gonna last.”

But, he did. Your beast had stamina. He returned to your clit as he thrust in and out of you, dragging his fat cock through your body, ripping two more orgasms from your lips before he surrendered.

You watched him come, crying out darkly in his reflection. He had pulled himself from you and was painting your generous ass cheeks with his load. The tacky fluid was searingly hot, and it ran down your skin in drips.

You smiled, bending back to kiss him,

“Messy boy,” you chided playfully, a naughty tone in your voice.

“Wanna clean you up,” Price sighed, satisfied and spent.

Do you want 30 more chapters of these two? Read "Gunslinger" here.

Reblogs and comments deeply appreciated!

#call of duty fanfic #cod mw2 #cod mwii #captain john price #cod #john price #captain price #captain price x reader #captain price x you #gunslinger #captain john price smut #captain john price x reader #captain johnathan price #captain john price x female reader #captain john price x you #price cod #price mw2 #cod price

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running-with-kn1ves · 1 month

Note

🧎‍♀️more edira????? in evil old lesbian office worker we trust 🙏

how about a honeymoon-esque vacation scenario??? I am dying to see more of casual edira, the way she was in that last drabble ahgdgshababnabab

ur writing is just so good 💝

A/N: This is so kind! I was really surprised that Edira kept showing up in my inbox but I can't complain! I didn't want to jump to honeymoon just yet so here's a little vacation/beach episode :D

CW: blackmail/forced relationship, power imbalance, edira grabbing reader’s butt, overall possessive red flags --WC:2300

Synopsis: vacay with your powertrip of a girlfriend Edira! But her workaholic tendencies are hard to escape.

Taking “official” photos was always a humbling experience. You looked down at your passport ID for the hundredth time, grimacing at how dead you looked in the grainy picture.

“It’s not that bad. And see, the light hit your eyes perfectly,” Edira promised, but it didn’t fix the frown on your face as you focused on each blemish and pore that was exacerbated tenfold in the tiny image that represented who you were across country lines.

“Easy for you to say, you look the same as you did in your headshots on the branch website..”

You looked at her from the bed, watching the back of her sandy grey-blonde head shake with a sigh. The business woman rapidly typed away on her glowing laptop, seemingly irritated by the crashing waves outside the open sliding doors.

“Well, if you really want we can get it taken again, when I put my last name on there too.”

At that, you were quiet. Moving in together, and now vacations across boarders…. Her reference to marriage shouldn’t have been shocking, but it put all other thoughts in your brain to a stop. You didn’t really want to marry her, did you? Your blackmailing boss who was more like a war general than a tender lover, one who daydreamed about bending you over her desk more than what flowers she’d want at the ceremony venue. The possibility of staring into her bleak expression at an empty, cold courthouse and being forced to elope was something that made your frown droop even further.

The sad excuse of a wedding depressed you more than the thought of marrying Edira at all.

But you shook that despairing vision out of your head-- you were here to relax, to get away from the stress of your office environment (your coworkers) and neverending projects with cutthroat deadlines (running reports and files to Edira as soon as she requests them.)

“Well, I still don’t know how I convinced you to let us do this. I mean, I didn’t think you ever took vacations. When’s the last time you went on a trip that wasn’t for work?”

Edira stopped her clacking, french tips scraping along one of the computer’s keys.

“This is my first. I never had any reason to use my PTO days, until now.”

Wow, you really WERE dating a workaholic. What kind of insane person doesn’t use their personal days the second they get the chance? If you had been more than a temp, you would’ve taken all of yours the second Edira tried to indoctrinate you into her little play “date” plan.

“Well then why are you doing work!? This is one of the few times you can get away with not being available every other second of the day. You’ve been on your computer since we got on the plane-- isn’t it time we actually, you know, vacationed?”

Edira returned to her email writing. “They might need me, I’m the only one who has access to the other branches’ inf--”

“C’monn, I think they’ll be fine without you for an hour or two. Otherwise, what was the point of coming here..” You hopped to the screen doors, opening the curtains to see the glimmering ocean right outside your suite.The sand rippled with the blowing wind, completely void of footsteps or life. “I mean we LITERALLY have the ocean right here and you’d rather stare at your laptop.”

Edira hummed, not convinced.

Yikes; If you wanted to explore the island you were supposed to be vacationing on, you’d need to pull out the big guns.

“You’d rather focus on your work than… spend time with me?” Your voice cracked, looking at the ships far away from your corner of the coast. It was physically sickening to sweeten yourself up in order to get Edira’s favor. But how else could you actually use this once-in-a-lifetime chance to swim in the Indian Ocean, to experience something, anything, outside of your boring desk job and droning urban life.

At your buttered up question, Edira paused. You could see her looking at you from the corner of her eye, unreadable.

She shut her laptop. Pushing away from the desk she sighed, running a sharp hand through her hair, tight jaw clenching and unclenching.

“Put your bathing suit on.” Was all she said, unzipping the back of her form-fitting dress.

You didn’t say anything, no claps of excitement or relentless thank you’s-- lest she change her mind to ruin your fun. You hurried to change your shorts and souvenir shirt (A present from the airport gift shop; Edira saw you eyeing it) as the businesswoman walked to the master bathroom.

You prayed to be faster than her, hoping she wouldn’t catch you in a position that sparked her lust.

You were running around looking for sunscreen and towels when she came out, hands on her hips and dark sunglasses propped on her head. Even in her backless one piece, she looked like an executive on a business trip, hard glare in her eyes and a muted black covering the front of her body. From the back however, a different person was hidden. The cheeky bottoms exposed nearly the full of her, well, bottom, as ruffled locks of hair fell like messy feathers down her shoulders, exposed to the salty wind. She was the sexy women in swimsuit magazines, meant to be a fantasy of maturity and dominance way out of your league. But here she was, looking you up and down as you hopped on one foot to try and grab a towel on the other side of the bed.

“You know, i’m not really a big fan of the beach. I don’t know why I picked this place… should’ve chosen the mountains or something. Someplace we wouldn’t be bothered.”

Someplace she could have you all to herself, she meant. Somewhere you wouldn’t be distracted by things to do and would come looking to her for warmth by the fire.

“Maybe next vacation!” You hoped, praying that it turned the cogs in her machine brain to take you somewhere else, anywhere else, soon. “Meanwhile, we have our own private beach, thanks to you. We’ll only be bothered by the occasional seaweed. And maybe a fish or two.”

You gathered up the beach necessities in your arms, full of towels and a beach umbrella, along with small must-haves like water bottles and sunscreen spray cans. Edira looked at you with an incredilous stare, grabbing the towels and water from your hands to shove into her beach bag.

“Yeah, didn’t really think of that.” You said, noticing how most of the things you grabbed could be fit into her infinite ‘lifes a beach’ tote-- complementary from your Airbnb hosts.

“Let’s go.”

She walked out to the naked patio, locking her pointer finger with yours as you hiked the umbrella on your shoulder. You had come to learn Edira well; she didn’t like the sun, hated most gelatinous sugary mixtures, and was incredibly stubborn if an activity included something she found beneath her. Getting sand between her toes, included.

You found a place far away from the shore and began spinning the umbrella’s pole into the ground. Edira would surely make use of its shade, but the ocean was calling your name as she sat down on her beach towel, squinting behind her sunglasses.

“I can see the harbor from across the water; not particularly private, I’d say. The hosts’ll make sure to hear about this when we leave.”

“It’s private enough. What, did you want to go skinny dipping or something?” You laughed, clumping sand at the base of the umbrella with your foot. “The press would have a field day.”

You flumped down next to her, happy to be out of that stuffy, although beautiful, beach house that reminded you too much of Edira’s apartment. The warm sand was comforting, shells and rocks placed around you like little treasures.

“If I want to go skinny dipping with you I should be able to, not have to worry about some fisherman watching while I touch you.” She pulled at your thigh, placing her hand on the inside as she lifted up her sunglasses. “Or maybe, you’d like that, letting them watch you frolick and squirm. Maybe we should find out if they can really see us--”

She had the full intention of digging under your bottoms to make a statement, but your reaction time to her had improved.

“You’re such a worrywart, can we just swim now please? It’s better than sitting her in the hot sun, on the sticky sand..” You knew you caught her when she turned her nose at the mention of the sun, only worsening as she started to feel the sand cover her feet.

She was a priss through and through, and sometimes it worked in your favor.

“Fine… but if I’m touched by something slimy I can’t help what I do.”

You grinned with your teeth, unable to hold back a smile at finally getting to experience the beginning of your vacation.

You ran to the waves crashing against the sand, feeling them flick up at your ankles and knees as you waded in the water.

You turned around to walk backwards into the sea, watching as the woman hesitantly took out a hairtie that once had her hair in a high pony.

“Come on! Slowpoke!”

Edira reached the gap between land and water, frowning at schools of tiny fish and jagged rocks that would surely make it hard to walk in heels the next morning.

You had to drag her further, holding her outstretched hand as she let you lead her deeper into the water.

“It’s not so bad, right? Nothing slimy thus far…”

“Something’s definitely touching my leg.” She remarked, linking arms with you as if you were a safety floaty. “And it smells like fish.”

You both trudged far enough from shore, a little more than waist deep as you watched the sun near the horizon line.

You took a moment to look at it, staring as the boats pass by from far away, seeing the empty houses on the beach neighboring yours between areas of trees.

Edira turned towards you, the same moment something coming to grip your bottom.

“Something nabbed me!” You nearly shrieked, only to feel the same sensation on your other cheek, pulling you forward against Edira. She had her arms wrapped behind you, squeezing your ass like it was dough to be kneaded.

“Thought I was the scared one, hm?”

You looked away, putting your hands against Edira’s abdomen. She leered over you, ignoring your attempts to create distance as she caged you in. The waves pushed you together, water swaying as her legs brushed against your knees deep below.

“don't look away from me now, you're too adorable like this…”

She watched your eyes barely peek up, defensive fists flattening against the bare of her collarbone. She was almost spotless, save for a few sun-kissed freckles sprinkled here and there.

Edira grinned a wolfy smirk. Even despite her discomfort in the sea she knew you were wrapped around her finger, nervous lips twitching while watching her bring a hand from your bottom to your neck.

Her hands were salty and wet from the sea, pulling at the base of your head to bring you closer. The workaholic almost seemed to begin destressing as her nose pressed against yours.. Edira nuzzled with her forehead pressed to your sweaty one, fine fingers caressing downward to grab your jaw.

Without warning, her tongue perched itself against your cheek, turning your face to the side as she ran a long stripe up to your temple. It was wet and full, drawing out her time to savor the flavor and discomfort of your expression.

“What are you--”

“Salty.” She murmured. “You're so soft, getting all mushy in my arms.” Edira laughed-- a real laugh, with a small snort as she leaned into you. She was so close, the intimate entertwining of your bodies so unusual from her normal obscurity.

It was hard not to look petulant when her eyes peered down at you with a gleam, as if you were a cute drunk thing at the bar she wanted to take home safe, or a pampered puppy ready to be suffocated with attention.

“So cute.. might make me jealous letting all these boatmen see you in such a little bathing suit.” She teased, progressively in a better mood now with the clouds blocking the sun and your body so cooperative in her grasp.

“Jealous?” You rolled your eyes. “Oh noo, I could never imagine my girlfriend being jealous.”

All the times of her domineering possessive behavior ran through your head, the sarcastic comment truly not detailing how severe she had gone.

“I am your girlfriend…” she grinned, kissing your shoulder with a tight grip arpund your hips. “Now that I hear it,I want more… it sounds too, loose.”

Wait, did you really call her your “girlfriend”? Hell, maybe the sun was starting to get to you.

“We'll it’s not like we can get MARRIED, haha,” you awkwardly brush off how romantic she's being all of a sudden, soft circles created by her nails running along the dip of your back. “I mean… right? We're too uncommitted for marriage, and I mean who would want to marry someone the’re in a fake relationship with.”

You couldn’t tell if you were talking about her or you anymore. Edira’s chest pressed against yours, arms tentatively keeping you trapped against her.

“Mm… Still feels fake to you?” She questioned In your neck, surprisingly calmer than you expected her to be at that comment. “How much more do I need to convince you that this is real,” Those soft lips came to brush against your ear. “That you’re not going anywhere.”

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scribblemetae · 9 months

Text

Yes, Miss | Hyunjin Smut | Part 1

Website Tagline: ‘Virgin boy with years of backed up cum pleasures himself for you, come watch my live videos and teach me how to fuck’

Description/Summary: It wasn’t your fault, you didn’t know this was going to happen, how were you to know the person behind the videos you used to get off to was none other than your favourite straight A student Hwang Hyunjin. How would you ever look at the boy with thick black glasses properly again?

Genre: Nerd!Hyunjin, Teacher!Reader, Student!Hyunjin, Taboo but fully legal relationship.

Word count: 9k

Main warnings: general teacher student naughty business, Hyunjin got a Miss!Kink, Cam!boy Hyunjin, Desperate Hyunjin. Masturbation (f) and (m), Mutual Masturbation (Kinda?) Slow burn but also not a slow burn lmao

A/N : Re-post from my Stray Kids story, I do love writing about cam boys! I might write more members as cam boys

He drove you wild, you were here panting hard on your bed sheets as you watched him stroke his cock into his camera. You’re not sure when you became a slave to his live shows, you never expected to become a regular viewer of anybody on the website, only signing up to relieve a bit of stress every now and then. However, since the first video of his you watched, when he was talking about how desperate he was to fuck you with his virgin cock, you were stuck on him. You even went as far as signing up to the website to get notifications for when he would be going live.

A virgin cam boy with a sweet voice and a perfect looking cock, how could you not live for that?. There was something so hot about the idea of him being completely innocent and untouched, yet here getting off for anybody to see.

His viewership seemed small, but that wasn’t exactly a bad thing, it meant not as many annoying messages popping up during live streams when he would say something in need of an answer. He always interacted with his viewers, pretending to be their boyfriend who was to scared to fuck so jacked off just for them, he was delectable. He had said the virgin thing wasn't just a character and was actually true and that made you mouth water for him, he seemed so sweet when he would talk to views before and after lives.

Right now he was the complete antithesis of sweet, hand wrapped around his hard cock as he layed back on his bed, face out of screen as always, filth leaving his lips as he helped his viewers reach their highs.

“Fuck, I’m so backed up with cum, wanna cum for you so bad.” You were right there with him, fingers deep inside your cunt as you thrusted inside at the same pace he stroked his cock. You watch him as he sits up slightly reading some of the comments panting. “Yeah, yeah I’ll fuck you soon, promise I’ll let you take my virginity soon but for now just enjoy watching me baby.” he continued stroking himself, breathing getting heavier and heavier as you got close to the edge, deep voice turning whimpery. “You’ll have to teach me how to fuck, teach me what to do -shit- cum with me, please cum with me.” The perfect blend of dominant and submissive, you couldn’t help but do exactly what he asked and cum at the same time as him.

When you’d finished your session you were damp and warm but the last thing you wanted to do was move, your shower would have to wait till morning before you go to work. For now all you wanted to do was roll over and fall asleep.

It was only 8am and you’d already had it this morning. Mondays were always pretty bad but this one was worse, all the professors and teachers had to come in an hour early to discuss work plans and for the last half an hour your boss has just gone in on you all for your students' grades. It's not like they were bad, in fact your college was one of the best in the area but he just wanted them to be better. He’d taken your can do attitude and good mood and slammed it into the ground. Today was going to be a long day

“Correct Hyunjin, does anybody else have any ideas or are we just going to leave it to our fellow classmen over here to answer everything for us?”

You were in the last lesson for the day and your mood had gone from bad to worse. looking around the room at your class and everybody was silent, looking at you with vacant stares, eyes barely open. Mondays were always the same. The majority of your class turned up but most of them were nursing hangovers and dealing with their own sleep depravity. It was times like these you wanted to bang your head against the table. When you swapped over to teaching college students you thought things would be easier, these are young adults who have decided to come to your class, they’ve purposely come to study and learn and yet most of the time it was like trying to get blood from a stone. Days like this always reminded you that in reality they are just young adults that only came to college for the promise of good parties and sex.

As much as your students could drive you mad you did have a select few that would sit at the front, always turn up on time and always engaged with your lessons but that was 4 out of about 30. Yun-hee, Felix, Sunny and Hyunjin, they always made your lessons slightly bearable but you knew everybody else relied on them to get the answers correct so they could just jot it down on their laptops and be on their way. You weren’t blind to it, you could see right through them all, it wasn't long ago you were in college doing the exact same thing. People always relied on the nerdy kids who sat at the front and tried their hardest to get them through.

You rolled your eyes as you turned to face the projector screen trying not to let everybody see your clear annoyance with them, if you thought your last few lessons were bad you had another thing coming. You continued through the next 45 minutes and you were getting nothing from them. Hyunjin and Sunny answered most if not all the questions of class, obviously looking golden in your eyes, but nerdy in the eyes of their piers. The phrase ‘Fucking nerd’ was flung out while Hyunjin answered a particularly hard question, forcing you to remove the foul mouthed ass-hole from the lesson.

You always felt bad for Hyunjin, you noticed that he was picked on a lot and never really stood up for himself, in fact all four of your best students got it pretty rough from the others. You thought bullying would calm down slightly in a college environment compared to the pre-school you taught in beforehand but you were wrong, people were meaner here and if there's one thing you couldn’t stand it was an asshole bully. You shook your head reminding yourself this wasn’t the place to be cussing out your students and looked at the time on your laptop. You still had another 5 minutes to go but you really didn't see the point in continuing considering that for the last 15 you’d just had everybody work in pairs and study the subject. So, you did what all mature, respectable professors do. “Okay guys we’re gonna finish the lesson 5 minuets early, i'll see you all tomorrow”. You know you probably shouldn't have but it was your last lesson of the day and you were just ready to get home and relax.

As the class were packing their books away and you were doing the same, you feel a knock against the table and turn to see that Hyunjin had accidentally walked into it while approaching you, he softly rubs his elbow as he whispers out an “owch.”

“Hyunjin, are you okay?” You reach over touching his arm making sure that he didn’t hurt himself too badly. He just nods at you slowly with a small smile on his face. “I just wanted to tell you that I enjoyed the lesson today.” Everything he did was awkward, you noted as he put his hand out as if he was going to shake yours before slowly pulling it back realising that would be a weird thing to do.

“Thank you Hyunjin, your input on the subject matters are always impressive to say the least.” He blushed at your compliment looking down. It was only as the conversation went silent that you noticed all your other students had left, but Hyunjin was still gripping his bag to his chest as he stood in front of you. “Is there something else you need Hyunjin?” He went wide eyed at your question, almost as if you’d caught him doing something he shouldn't. “I, No, Miss, your shirt looks really pretty.”

As you took a second to think about his words he had already started to leave, face bright red in embarrassment but the sound of slapping on the floor makes you whip your head around to where he was laying on the floor. God, he was so clumsy. You run over to him trying to help him up but he looks mortified as you grab his hand and some of the stuff he had dropped. “Hyunjin, you have to be more careful.” He looks like he hit his knee pretty badly as he stands up hopping a little bit waiting for the pain to go down “I know, I'm sorry Noona, I mean, Miss Y/L/N.”

You slowly start handing over his things, a book, a flask and a medium sized green pouch that felt heavier than it should. He was quick to grab them off you as you handed them back, ears still red from embarrassment. “Don’t be sorry Hyunjin, just be careful. You know these kids will do anything that they can to find a weakness in you.”

You didn’t have to elaborate on any of it, he understood exactly what you meant looking down toward the floor unsure of how to answer. You really did make him nervous, butterflies appearing in his tummy every time he was in the same room as you. “You need to stick up for yourself, be more confident, you're such a bright kid Hyunjin” your hand was on his arm now and he nearly flinched back at the feeling of you words flowing through him. “I’m not a kid, Miss Y/L/N.” You take a deep breath and do your best to say no more, not wanting to offend him in any way. It must be hard when people are so cruel to him on a daily basis. “I know Hyunjin, that's not what I meant”

He was quick to remove himself from the room after that, shrugging a small goodbye as he walked out on you, leaving you to finish up your day ‘Well that was different’ you thought to yourself as you went back to packing everything away. Something seemed so different about Hyunjin lately and you couldn’t put your finger on it. He was still excelling at classes and still dressing the same way. He still had the same friends and did the same things and yet you could tell there was something on his mind. All you could do was shrug it off and hope for the best for him.

It didn’t take long for you to get all your things together finally and leave the classroom. As you walk down the hallway rushing to get to your car but your name booms down the hallway. Your boss, the man in charge of the school, was shouting you and you hoped to god this could be over quickly so you could just go home. You turned around and smiled at him, maybe you just dropped something.

“Have you handed in all your lesson plans for the next few months''. You couldn’t help but look at him confused, you’ve never really had to go over your plans with him before, this was a college not a pre-school. When you didn't answer he made sure to bark back at you. “___, If you’re not prepared for lessons its no wonder your students are failing” before you could even babble out your defence and make him aware that only 8% of your students actually were failing he continued to berate you in the hallways “You weren’t hired to bring the university down, you were hired because of your remarkable ideas that quite frankly I'm yet to see any of”

You wanted to shout and scream, this being the second time you’d been spoken to like this by him today but you knew it would get you nowhere. This was just the way he was, it was nothing personal, he was just an absolute dick. It was only when you looked around that you saw Hyunjin in the hallway standing by his locker listening into the conversation. You thought everybody had hurried off but knowing there were still people around you felt embarrassed. You didn’t let it show though, or at least you tried not to, smiling at him and looking straight back to your boss missing the uneasy smile he threw back at you.

You opened your mouth ready to defend yourself but were cut off by him shouting the name of another teacher and you quickly took your chance to leave the conversation. You felt bad for whoever he was about to scream at but at the same time you had taken your share and just wanted to leave

The drive home was easy, luckily for you. Every traffic light was green and the roads were pretty clear much to your surprise. You managed to make it home much quicker than you usually would. As you slammed your car door a little bit harder than you probably should have you walked up to your door, unlocking it and breathing a little bit easier as you walked into your living room.

After you made yourself food, sat down with a glass of wine and finished up all your jobs, that you finally slumped on the couch not letting the stress from the day dissipate in any way when you sit there replaying everything you could have done better in your head. All the annoyances big and small start to eat away at you until your head starts pounding, when you phone pings your glad there's finally going to be something to knock you out of it when you grab it quickly from beside you.

You thought it would be a text message, a notification from a game you could mindlessly play until you had to go to sleep, or even a reminder that you set for something you’d obviously forgotten but no it was none of them, the little notification was from SKZCamboys.net, ‘babyboy has gone live’ you immediately bit your bottom lip reading his tagline that pops up every time along with the notification ‘Virgin boy with years of backed up cum pleasures himself for you, come watch my live videos and teach me how to fuck’.

He never goes live on a weekday, only every showing his face, or should you say body, on a Sunday night getting everybody ready for the week ahead of them. To say you were wet immediately just from the surprise of seeing the notification would have been an understatement. You wasted no time grabbing your laptop and rushing to your bedroom thanking the heavens that today of all days he decided to spring a surprise live on everybody

As you open your laptop you're quick to position yourself on your bed, laying down and setting everything up ready to wash away the annoyance the best way you knew how. As soon as you log into your laptop account the notification letting you know he's gone live pops up and you click it, way more eager than usual. You had no shame in masturbating but you did have a little shame at doing it so eagerly.

There he was, kneeling in front of his camera, slacks on but shirtless. You never got to see his face, you could only imagine how handsome he looked, if only he would tip his camera up a little bit more to help your imagination. Fuck, just seeing him like this was starting to get you wet.

“I’ll wait until I have a few more views to start, for now we can just have some fun talking.” His voice was sweet like honey, something familiar and safe about it but you knew you’d never heard a voice quite like it, you’d remember the way the vibrations of the deep timber would shake your heart. You can see him reading the comments that are already rushing on the side of the stream, you wish you could click them away but it was the only negative of this website. You always had to see them there next to his perfect body.

Suddenly his voice turns timid as he reads out one of the comments ‘What do you have instore for us today H? Why the surprise live’ H was his pseudonym, a stage name if you will, he never gave out his real name much to your dismay. You’d do anything to moan it out for him.

As you saw him covering his body you could see him slowly getting in to character, he pretended to be shy and innocent but theres no way somebody who was willing to get his cock out on camera really was, but still, the show he put on always worked for you.

“I’m sorry about being so abrupt, I know usually we wait till a Saturday to have fun but, I really wanted to touch you today, I know you’ve had such a hard day today I just wanna help you get rid of all that stress”

You gasped at his words, a whimper slightly following it. V had a storyline in his videos, one that you were a slave to. He was your virgin boyfriend. You’re not sure when you started watching his videos but each one you’ve watched was a continuation of the last, usually basing them on the premise that you were his girlfriend, watching him get off because he was to scared to fuck.

"The more time we spend together, the more we talk and get to know each other, the more I wanna be dirty with you." Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, its like he was speaking directly to you. His hands were starting to stroke over his body and you couldn’t help but picture them as your own. As his fingers danced around his skin your eyes raked down his body noticing the hard on that was pressing against the thin material of his pants and your mouth started to water slightly. You couldn’t help but slide your hand down your pants, laying them on top of your panties and slowly starting to rub, trying to warm yourself up a little bit ready for him.

“No, no, baby, stop.” His voice was winey and it stopped your movements “Don't touch yourself yet please, I wanna do it for you remember? I wanna do all the touching.” This was something you loved about watching him, he could read all his viewers like a book, he knew exactly what he was doing and he loved to tease with it.

“Please, just let me enjoy your body tonight, i’ve got so fucking much backed up cum to give you, just let me have my way with you.” As always you followed along and did as he said, restraining from touching yourself and biting your bottom lip frustrated that you couldn’t start without him.

You couldn’t see it from his lips, but you could see the bouncing of his Adam's apple as he chuckled slightly dropping his innocent character, enjoying what he was doing to his viewers. Comments popping up at the side of his stream asking him to start, begging him to really let them take his virginity.

“You’re all so excited about getting to fuck me, so many juicy pussys ready to let me have there way with them” he moved his had down and grasps his cock groaning slightly “Makes me so fucking hard thinking about it.” As he started to palm himself the pure version of himself makes his appearance again “but, I don’t know if im ready for that just yet, you don’t mind waiting for me do you baby? Just a little longer, I promise I wont make you wait to much longer but tonight I just wanna lick, just wanna stroke and touch you till you’re Cumming for me, is that okay, baby?”

You look around at the background of his live, trying to distract yourself knowing that if you look at him any longer you won't be able to help but start touching yourself out of pure desperation. His bed sheets had math equations on them, different trophies across his wall for academic achievements. You eyes wondered slightly over his body again but this time you weren’t looking at his chest, you noticed a bruise on his elbow and all you wanted to do was kiss it better. While your eyes dances around his bedroom and you mind fluttered with all the ways you’d like to take care of him you managed to change your position so you were up against your headboard, clothes completely removed and your laptop was in between your feet that were now spread out in front of you.

“Lets see who we have joining today, who's going to let this desperate little tongue explore them tonight” The soft stuttering of his words were in huge contrast with the things he was saying making your brain melt and he pulls you back to attention when he starts reading the names of some of his views and your pussy throbs when he calls out your user name ‘Missy/n’. Yeah, you knew it wasn’t exactly original but when you signed up to the website you never thought you'd become a regular viewer of anybody. “Will you let me please you tonight Missy/n? You’re always so silent on my streams”

Shit, he was addressing you, calling you out essentially. His viewership was so small he could remember his regular viewers, sometimes addressing them by the name they asked and talk to them while he streamed. It looked like tonight it was your turn. “Do you like being called Miss, y/n? Does my girlfriend like being called miss? I can do that if you just talk to me baby” Your pussy was dripping at his words, you had to clench your fists in order to stop from touching yourself. You could see other comments on the side begging for his attention, asking him to talk to them since you were clearly too shy. They weren’t wrong. You never interacted, and clearly he has noticed that.

“You always watch my streams but never join in on the fun” He slowly starts pulling on the waistband of his slacks and his cock pops out into view. He's so big and hard, he has one of the prettiest cocks you’ve ever seen and you verbally moan out loud. “We had so much fun last night, I know you where there, you can tell me anything remember, I'm a good boyfriend I'll do whatever you want” he pushed his hand into his pants and you heard a gasp from off camera “Please, Missy/n, please tell me what you like so I can make tonight all about you”

The fact he was directing this to you makes your brain vibrate, all sense being thrown out the window as your pussy clenches around nothing, needing to feel something. You type up your reply, talking to him for the first time, it's strange how nervous it makes you but you need him to start, your stomach is starting to hurt with want. You want to sound sexy but don’t want to embarrass yourself

You settled with something simple 'Call me Miss, H, I really like that' and hoped to God he would keep going, You’d never felt as nervous as you did pressing the enter button on your keypad. “Fuck yes, Tonight's all about you miss, its all for you”

Waking you up felt great, the laptop was pushed to the end of the bed as you sat up and rubbed your eyes starting to stretch for a second before starting to panic.

No alarm?

You searched your bed quickly looking for your phone, throwing the covers and the pillows around untill you eventually found it hidden underneath the laptop at the end of your bed.

8:35. Shit.

You had 25 minuets to get dressed ready and at work. You let out a frustrated 'fuck' As you flipped your house around trying to find everything you needed. You were lucky you put all your clothes on the right way round at this point.

Your hair was thrown up quickly and your face was bare, you'd have to skip the make-up for today. You threw your laptop in your bag and hauled ass to your car making sure you're there as quick as the speed limit would let you.

You were lucky, every light turned green and the roads were practically empty meaning you were only late to your first class by 5 minutes.

As you ran through the door you were quick to apologize to your students, not that any of them were really paying attention to you. You were in such a rush you barely had a grip on your laptop case and bags while they were slipping down your arms.

"Do you-" you feel your bags slipping lower and lower as you hear Hyunjins voice and his hand reaching out to help you "-do you need a hand Miss?" He was always so sweet. His black hair was tied back and his big blue jumper looked nearly too big for him as he grabbed your laptop bag off your arm allowing you to reposition your other bag on your shoulder.

"Thank you Hyunjin" you give him a smile and shouted out to the rest if your class "You guys talk amongst yourself for a second while I set up"

Both you and Hyunjin walked to your desk and placed all your stuff on there "There-erm-what" as you looked up to your side Hyunjin was still standing over you struggling with his words. You couldn't tell what he was saying over the noise of a nearly full lecture hall talking amongst themselves though "Hyunjin, are you okay?"

He looked surprised at you addressing him and shook his head as he was released from whatever daydream he was in. His cheeks and ears looked slightly flushed as he opened his mouth to say something but the words wouldn't come out.

"Do you want to help me set up?" You weren't sure why he was always so nervous around you, but you tried to help him out wherever you could. You assumed it was because you were his teacher. You weren’t much older than him, but old enough that you held the authority, besides, no matter what your age difference you were the person who held his grades in your hands. He was twenty one years old and he could do whatever he wanted in his life, as long as you gave him the grades to achieve it.

You tried to sound as casual as possible as you directed him to the chair at your desk and asked him to set up the laptop and your google documents, maybe if you were slightly less formal with him he would calm down a little when he was around you. As you pulled everything out of your bag that you needed you heard another whack as Hyunjin rubs his elbow sitting on the chair at the other side of it. That's the second time he's hit his elbow on your desk, he's so clumsy. So much so that in another few seconds you heard a crashing of your laptop and another bang on the table from Hyunjins direction.

As you look over, your laptop is on the floor and Hyunjin looks shocked. In a second he was rushing to pick everything up as he almost groveled to you “Im sorry, i'm so sorry, wait-”

You can hear everybody in the background starting to turn and talk about what was going on at the front and you feel that frazzled Hyunjin even more. He was clamoring around the desk and the floor trying to pick up everything that had been dropped. You moved around the desk and dropped to your knees trying to help him, as he scrambled, you were trying to help him by grabbing things calmly. The whole class was starting to get louder and you could hear people laughing at him and you were starting to get frustrated.

“It's okay Hyunjin, don’t worry” but as you grabbed your laptop he seemed to get even more stressed out grabbing it at the same time as you almost as if he was trying to pull it out of your hands. When you looked down at the screen, you realized why.

The screen was lit up glowing on SKZCamboys.net. All the air felt like it was punched out of your stomach. You must have forgotten to exit everything when you rushed this morning and now both of you were staring at the screen that was on H’s profile. Thumbnail of the video finished and paused on the screen of his cock in hand, with cum all over it.

There was no explaining this away, you slammed the laptop closed and started to apologise but before you could, the laughing from the class was getting louder “You’re such a fucking loser” - “Look at him stairing at her! Hyunjin wants to fuck the tutor everybody” - You heard laughing coming from all different directions and you could see the mortification coming from Hyunjins face.

He was quick to react, pulling his body from the floor and running towards the door. You shouted his name but you knew there was no quick fix to this. All this had done was added fuel to the fire of Hyunjin getting bullied and honestly all you wanted to do was hit your head on the table.

As you managed to pull yourself off the floor ready to scold your students there was a knocking on your classroom door, the entire off you class were silent and that could only mean one thing.

"What's going on here miss Y/L/N" there he is again, the bane of your job. "Sir we just had a small mishap, it's nothing I can't ha-" he interjected before you could say anything. "Small mishap? You have a student running out of your classroom, your entire class shouting about and all your lesson notes seem to be scattered onto the floor"

You took a deep breath before you could answer him. You needed to compose yourself "I can assure you Sir, it's not what it looks like"

"Not what it looks like? So you haven't completely lost control of your class?" Before you could say anything he was walking towards your desk with fury in his eyes "take the rest of the week off miss y/l/n, i'll deal with you on Monday"

You were shocked to say the least, you were standing there in the middle of your classroom and he had the audacity to send you home? As if you were a student yourself. You shook your head, surely he was just being dramatic "Sir, I don't think that's necessary"

"Oh Miss y/l/n I think it's very necessary. In fact, make it two weeks, now collect your things and head home"

You didn't say anything. You felt embarrassed. The entire time this was happening your class was watching over your shoulder in silence. They all looked as surprised as you as you awkwardly bent down to pick up the rest of your papers and packed all your things away. Your exit from the room felt shameful. Your head was hung low as there were no words exchanged, the only sound was the clicking of your heels on the hardwood floor.

As you left and closed the door behind you, you leaned against it hitting the back of your head on it. There was nothing you could do. You weren't the first tutor he'd sent home but if you were honest, you were the first one he'd sent for a legitimate reason. You had lost control of everything going on back there.

That's when you remembered what had happened with Hyunjin. Oh God, you needed to make things right with him, for him. You wondered where he'd run off to, unsure where to even start. How do you make that up to somebody. Nobody wants to see the porn their teacher gets off to, especially not somebody as sweet and nieve as Hyunjin. Not to mention unintentionally embarrassing in front of the class, if he hadn't seen what was on your screen he wouldn't have dropped anything and nobody would have thought anything of it.

The walk to your car was slightly defeated. Head hug low, ignoring everybody who you walked past and slumping yourself into your front seat. As you pulled your phone out to check any notifications you saw the email the university had sent you.

Dear Y/N,

This email is to confirm your suspension from USTRAY University with immediate effect. This will be a 12 day suspension period and you will be due to return on Monday 1st of May.

In the meantime if you have any queries please take them up with your HR representative.

You may still be asked to contact students via email if any on-going work issues present themselves but in these cases you will be paid for your time.

On your return date you will have an investigation to look into the details of your suspension, the out-come of this meeting could rage anywhere between no further action taken to a disciplinary hearing.

We hope you are in good health and we look forward to seeing you soon.

USTAY University

you rolled your eyes and threw your head back in defeat, the one thing this university had going for it was that it was efficient, you weren't even off the grounds and you already had your suspension email. As you drive home you play the email over and over in your head.

__________________________

You weren't really sure what to do with yourself. You'd been at home for two hours, sat watching TV twiddling your tumble idoly while thinking of how to be productive. Your situation was shit to say the least but you wanted to at least do something with the forced time off.

You'd been almost in a trance for the last hour, bored and watching TV only managing to snap out of it when your phone rang next to you.

You didn't even look at it when you pulled it up to your ear to speak to whoever dared interrupt you wallowing. "Hello"

"Oh Hi _____ it's Chris"

Why would Chris be calling you? He was one of the music studies tutors at your uni, you'd only talked to him a handful of times so he's not somebody you thought would call to discuss your current situation. "Oh yeah, Hi Chris what's up?"

"First of all I'm really sorry about what happened, you're a great tutor you didn't deserve that, the man has lost his mind I swear" after a few seconds and a small thank you from you he continued "what I actually called to ask you about was Hyunjin"

Oh god, did he tell everybody what had happened. You're sure you'd lose your job straight away if the other tutors thought you were watching porn in your lessons.

"He didn't come to his second class today and he's never ever missed a class and the somebody told me what happened in your lesson and it all made a little more sense"

You nodded your head as he spoke but you weren't entirely sure why he was telling you this. You knew what had gone on and you'd do anything you could to help Hyunjin out but you weren't allowed back in the uni and he knew that.

"I was wondering if you could reach out to him?" His suggestion left you feeling a little bit of dread, it made sense if you were Chris, to have you be the one to reach out to him. Everything happened in your class and you had always had a soft spot for him but if he knew what Hyunjin saw, what it was that caused the situation then he'd know that your probably the last person that Hyunjin wants to talk to right now.

"You're his favorite tutor, I always over hear him talking about you to Felix in my lessons, maybe if you just gave him an email for an update and a 'How's it going' chat, you know, I don't want him to start missing lessons, I wouldn't ask cos I know your technically not getting paid but" he finished his sentence without actually finishing it.

You knew you'd have to speak to him, as it stands he was still technically one of your students so you'd have to approach him eventually, maybe it would be easier to do it over email.

"Yeah, yeah okay sure I'll see what I can do"

Before you'd even amended to finish your sentence Chris was thanking you from the other end "just keep me updated on anything that happened, and again, I'm really sorry about all this. He really is a dick sometimes"

You huffed out a small laugh to him and agreed before putting the phone down getting ready to send an email over to Hyunjin.

Where would you even start? How do you talk about something like this to somebody who struggles even talking to you. As you open up your emails on your phone and start what you were sure was going to be the most over thought out email of your life you noticed a notification at the top left of your phone

Babyboy has gone live.

You knew you shouldn't, you knew you had other things going on in your life that were way more important than you getting your rocks off and yet something made you click on it. You weren't working, you weren't getting paid to message him and as much as you wanted to help him the temptation of watching the man that always helps make you cum. Still, there was a small hint of guilt that washed over you, okay, maybe just a sneak peak and then you’ll get back to the email.

As you clicked on the notification and the video started playing you saw that he was already talking to people. Your volume was down and as you turned it up what he was saying was already turning you on

“Will you fuck me today? I know you want me so bad, i'm ready, please” You were shocked, immediately immersed attention fully on him as his needy voice left your phone speakers. You could pull your eyes away and your body was getting hot.

“You’re here, fuck you’re here. Fuck me, please” As he speaks he pulls into frame a small looking green bag, it almost looked like a pencil case but a bit bigger and with a bit more weight to it. It looked familiar but before you could even care to think about it he started to pull out its contents.

Your mouth started watering as you saw the fleshlight. You were biting your bottom lip as he started pushing his finger inside it groaning out loud. What made him take this turn with his videos, you were sure he’d never actually get this far, only ever teasing his audience, but now you have this you weren't sure you’d ever be able to think about anything else.

“Can’t wait to feel your pussy, been waiting for so long” as he talked you sat further back on your sofa and quickly pushed your hands into your jeans and underwear and started to rub yourself. You couldn’t control yourself when it came to the faceless man, when you felt how wet you were you pushed a finger inside of your hole and let out a soft but long gasp as you felt some of your tension running away from you.

As he pulled his finger out of the toy he moved it further up in the frame, dipping his face down slightly as his tongue connected to the fake pussy. You immediately clenched around your fingers, this is the most you’d ever seen of him and he was licking a fleshlight, you couldn't help but imagine he was on the floor in front of you, tongue licking inside your slit as your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

“Taste so good Miss, fuck I want more” The use of the word Miss made your eyes open and what you saw on your phone threw you through a loop. You pulled your fingers away from your body bringing them up to cover your mouth that was open in shock.

You could see his jaw, his tongue had pushed into the fleshlight and now his mouth and lips and jaw were in view as he tongued the toy, but that wasn’t what surprised you.

Hyunjin.

You’d recognise him anywhere. Your pussy was still leaking and it felt so wrong. After all this time it was Hyunjin on the other end of the camera? His tongue was so deep inside the toy and you could hear his moans, watching his jaw move tentatively as he kissed around the lips bathing the toy in his saliva.

It took everything in you, every ounce of moral to exit the window on your phone and place it down on your sofa. Your eyes were closed as you tried to take deep breaths and forget about it but when you did you pictured him again, the vision of his tongue between your legs, pushing it deep inside of you as your legs quivered around his head.

You couldn’t help but jump up off the sofa, clapping your hands to the front of your body and to the back, pacing around trying to do anything that could get the picture out of your head. It was wrong, the thought of it shouldn’t make your body squirm and your pussy clench the way it was.

You’d never thought of him like this, you’d always noted that he was good looking, it was the main reason you thought the boys all picked on him, jealous that he was attractive and smart, a lethal combination. But, untill now, never once had you thought about him sexually.

Your phone once again goes off, a notification sound ringing around the room.

Perfect a distraction.

It was a text from Chris

"Thanks for getting in contact with him, I'm sure he'll be grateful for it. Just if you can make sure you message him soon and then send me any updates or just CC me in on the email"

Okay maybe not.

What the hell were you supposed to do? There was no way you could CC Chris in on the email. What would happen if Hyunjin replied and mentioned what happened, in fact, maybe it wasn't a good idea to email him at all. You needed to get some distance. You were having the most inappropriate thoughts about him.

You typed back a quick reply to Chris with the perfect excuse.

"Hey Chris, I've just tried emailing him but sadly I'm having no luck with my Internet connection on my phone and due to my laptop being dropped today I'm unable to try on there until it's repaired. You may have to try and contact him yourself, Sorry for all the hassle"

Okay so you lied through your front teeth but that was the best option out of all the ones you could think of at the moment. This would allow you time before you got back to work to deal with this all in your head

"Oh that's fine I'll send you over his phone number, maybe just giving him a call would be easier anyways, it's a bit more personal, just let me know how it goes. Thanks again"

Sure enough in the next text Chris sent you over his number and you were near rolling your eyes.

He was right, a phone call would be much more personal and you wanted to avoid that the best you could. Could you get away with texting him? No, that's far too informal and awkward.

You couldn't help but let out a loud grunt of annoyance. Fuck it, just call him and get it over with. It's not like he knows what your thinking, this is just as casual as it would have been before you found out. It's only different on your end of things.

You planned out how it was going to go in your head, looking at your phone weighing out the possible opening lines and options you could take

"Hi Hyunjin it's Miss __, I was just calling to talk about what happened today in class" maybe? No, wait, this opens up the possibility for him to talk about your laptop "Hi Hyunjin, I'm just calling about you missing your lessons today" Nope, that kinda feels too accusatory. You didn't want him to feel at fault. "Hi hyunjin, I just wanted to call to make sure you were okay after today, Professor Bang said you'd not been in for your next class?

That felt better, you weren't accusing him of anything and you didn't give him too much time to talk about the incident, more leading it towards the missing off classes than anything else.

You must have paced around the loving room for a good half an hour before you hyped yourself up enough for the call, anybody watching would have thought you were getting ready for an Olympic run. You'd managed to straighten up your living room, make yourself and drink and do the dishes all until you had nothing left to procrastinate over.

Your heartbeat had slowed down in the half an hour avoidance but as soon as you picked up your phone again you could feel it increasing. You dialed in his number and took a deep breath, it was going to be fine.

Well, it would have been fine if he didn't answer his phone so quickly, throwing you off completely.

"Hello"

How did you never recognise his voice? Without a face attached all you could hear was the man you watch on the other end of your computer screen. It was different when he was there in front of you though, when he was there his voice was soft and stuttered, unsure of what to say next. When you watch him on camera, although his voice was still soft, there was a confidence that made the two personalities indistinguishable from one another.

"Oh, Hi Hyunjin? It's ___, oh I mean. It's Miss ___"

Shit, now you were the stumbling idiot.

"Oh, Hi Miss, how're you? I mean, what makes you call?"

Okay, so not just you, you were both stumbling idiots. Come on, you just had to get this over with. Just ask him how he's doing and convince him to go back to classes tomorrow.

“Oh well, one of your tutors, Professor Bang? He called me and said you’d missed your lesson with him, I was just wanting to make sure you were okay, it's not like you to miss a lesson.”

You were honest and straight to the point, that's exactly what had happened. He didn't exactly seem happy with your reasoning though as his voice sounded slightly dejected in his reply

“Oh”

You weren’t exactly sure where to run with that without talking a little bit more, the only problem with talking more about it was you knew that inevitably you’d have to bring it up, you’d have to mention the one thing you really really wanted to avoid

“Oh? Are you okay Hyunjin?-” You tried to think of a way to address it but your voice was reluctant “-I know-” Ugh, here you go. “-I know what happened in lesson must have been so weird for you and i'm so sorry for that, I didn't mean for you to see that”

You released a deep breath at the end of your sentence, it felt good being able to say it, just getting it out in the open. Maybe it wasn’t that big of a deal after all. It was porn, and you were both adults regardless of Hyunjins innocent seeming nature, besides, he really wasn't as innocent as he seemed evidently.

“Its, its okay Miss, I’d never judge you for it, its more of a complement than anything”

Good? Why would seeing your porn make him feel…. Wait. It takes all of a second for you to realize what you were looking at when he saw your laptop. It was one of his videos, he knew you’d been watching him. Your eyes widen as realization slaps you right across the face. You can’t believe it. How could you ever live that down, this was worse than you could imagine. This was more than just him simply knowing you watch porn. He knew you watched him, he knew you watched him before you even did.

“Oh My God, Hyunjin, i've just realized”

You couldn’t believe it took you now to figure it out. He must really have thought you were a pervert. You needed him to know that it wasn’t something you did intentionally. You must have sounded so frantic as you tried to convince him

His voice though, was a lot calmer, very soft and shy with a hint of confidence that you’d only ever seen in his videos

“And now you’re calling me up just to check on me, you must really like me Miss”

Wait, that voice, that is the voice he puts on in his videos. Did he really think you did this on purpose. How could you have possibly known it was him? He never once showed his face until today, not once did he mention his name or anything.

“Hyunjin, you have to know I had no idea it was you. I never would have if I’d have known”

You managed to calm yourself down slightly but you were still bewildered, the most shocking part was that he wasn’t shocked. You thought he'd be embarrassed when he found out that, essentially, his teacher was watching his porn videos. Instead, it seemed to give him a confidence that you’d never seen in person before.

“Oh, so, you don’t like me?”

Why did he sound so disappointed? You could almost hear the pout that you were certain was on his lips right now. It's not that you don’t like him, it's that you can’t view him in the way you unintentionally have been. How is he not understanding what you’re saying?

“Hyunjin that's not what I mean, i'm your tutor, anything else would be ridiculously inappropriate”

Your voice was stern with him, you weren't tripping over your words anymore. Sure, you may still accidentally be thinking of his tongue licking up and down a sex toy but at least you weren’t verbalising that to him.

“You’re barely older than me”

Again with the sulking, everytime you try to explain yourself he seems upset and offended. He wanted you to like him.

“Hyunjin, do you, do you like me?”

You didn’t feel like you were reaching with your question, in fact you thought it had become pretty obvious after the conversation you’d just had, and apparently Hyunjin thought the same.

“You mean you didn’t know before now?”

God, his voice was so soft and coy. Wait, no, not soft and coy. This is wrong. You shouldn't love the way it sounds when he says it.

“Hyunjin, you can’t say these things”

Saying it outloud almost made you believe it, made you believe that you didn't want to hear these words coming out of his mouth. Morally and realistically you didn’t but in the back of your head lived a fantasy. A fantasy that only became a thing when you watched his stupid live stream. Him and you, together. Apparently you weren’t the only one with that fantasy either.

“But I've wanted to say them for so long, I always try and compliment you but it always comes out so…-” You could feel his frustration, his voice was no longer pouty and more frustrated “-So wrong, it's so hard to look into your eyes and not get lost”

You fear hearing these words coming from his mouth and you're scared it's for different reasons that it should be. He was turning you on. You were already affected by what had happened earlier and now hearing him say things like this, it was sending tingles through your body

“Hyunjin”

You try to stop him but he just keeps talking.

“I know you would never look at me twice, I'm not some hot, popular older guy, but you do watch me, you care about me right?”

Of course you cared about him, you cared about him so much that you’d always treat him slightly differently, it broke your heart that even in this situation he was talking down on himself. His confidence once displayed was wearing down with your rejection.

“Hyunjin we can’t have this conversation anymore”

Just because you felt bad for him didn’t mean you could let this continue though. You couldn’t let him keep talking. You were scared he would convince himself further that this was okay. You were scared he would convince you.

There was silence, you couldn’t think of the right thing to say and there was no way he was going to lead the conversation. The tension was so high as the both of you were lost for words.

“Do you?-” Finally, he was talking. It was still stuttering and slightly unsure but at least he was attempting because at this point you had no idea what to say “-do you ever join in?”

You ended the call. You had no idea what else you could do. You couldn’t answer him, you had no idea what the right thing to say was. You’ve never heard him speak like this, not to you anyways. You were just so surprised that he had this side of him. Filming videos of yourself was one thing, yes one very surprising and unexpected thing for him to do, but to have that same confidence when talking to a real person, that's something you never thought you’d see in Hyunjin.

What happened to the cute boy who wore oversized jumpers, baggy jeans and stuttered when he spoke

#Hyunjin smut #Hwang Hyunjin Smut #Stray Kids #Stray Kids smut #Hyunjin #Hwang Hyunjin

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lemontines-writing-corner · 1 year

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wally darling x reader modern au series

PART 1

authors note: wally darling belongs to @/partycoffin, please support their work !

>BACK

>NEXT

🌀 Salutations Neighbor pt. 1 🌀

A loud soft thump can make a cat go alert once they’re awake. Except for you, too busy asleep without a care in the world, assuming you were the only person in your apartment.

The blue pompadour puppet sat up and dusted himself, as he looked around your living room. “Such dull colors. Less brighter than my world.”, he stood up and tried to regain balance. Ever since he practiced how to use the spiral from his TV, he managed to create his own website to connect with million other people.

He’s seen many faces, but most of them click off once they leave the guest book. Quiet sad for the puppet, he wanted to make new friends, ever since the show was forgotten it isn’t the same without people watching him and his friends.

Once he was able to regain balance and walk properly, he explored your kitchen. Unfortunately Wally wasn’t able to get up from the countertop to look through your cabinets so he decided to go to the mini dining room table to get up from the chair .

There he saw a bowl of fruit. Not just fruits, apples of course. Let’s just say his eyes dilated like a cat as he stared at the fruit bowl for the past 5 minutes.

“Oh right! I’m supposed to find neighbor.”, Wally said to himself in a monotone normal voice as he shakes his head and went to the hallway to see a door cracked open. He walked inside to see your sleeping figure, you looked like a worm when you wrapped yourself in a blanket. All comfortable and in a deep sleep, although Wally had other plans of course.

He got up to your bed and poked your nose as he stared at you like a cat, “neiiighbor…neighhhbor. Wake up”, you turned away from the poking thinking it was the air.

What caused you to wake up was when he decided to sit down on your chest area and legs straddled on your sides as he did his dilated eye stare, he smiled at you, happy that you’re awake.

However your reaction said otherwise as you lets out a scream and sat up out of fear, which caused the poor puppet to flung out across the bed, having a rough landing on the floor. Luckily he can’t feel that at all, as he laid there limp and confused, but more worried. “Neighbor? Are you alright?”, he stood up and went to the left side of your bed.

“STAY AWAY!”, you shouted and backed up, confused and more over scared that a puppet…a puppet is talking to you. Wally felt hurt and tried to calm the situation down, “neighbor, that’s not very nice”, he tilted his head in confusion, as he did his iconic half lidded expression as he frowned.

You rubbed your face and blinked at least three times, “…please tell me I’m not dreaming….”, you muttered as you put your face against your pillow. First a busy day at work, sleeping peacefully, now another chaotic situation.

“Well neighbor, clearly you aren’t”, he poked your hand, his hand felt fuzzy and plush like. He can’t harm you? Right? You should feel scared or at least burn him with gasoline and matches, but all you felt was questions running from your head.

“Why are you here? How did you get here? Are you going to harm me? Are you the only living puppet here?”, you overwhelmed Wally with so many questions as his eyes widened, “calm down neighbor, I know you must feel overwhelmed. How about we start with introducing each-other?”, Wally smiled and his half lidded eyes went back as he tilted his head.

“I am genuinely excited to meet you, I’ve always had a interest in you humans”, he sat next to you and stared at you. Silence was in the air and you started to think to yourself, “should I trust this puppet?”.

So sorry for the short chapter ! Part two will come out soon. As a thank you for reaching till the end take another concept art of you and Wally !

#welcome home puppet show #fanfiction #welcome home arg #welcome home fandom #wally darling #julie welcome home #barnaby welcome home #wally darling fanfic #wally darling x y/n #wally darling x reader fluff #fluff fanfiction #fluff #fluff fanfic #wally darling x you #wally darling x reader #welcome home fic

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possumsarenice · 6 months

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Villain Couple Showtime AU

The idea of villain couple Showtime popped into my brain and I mixed it with this theory (plz read it first) to make this AU. Though I will say that in this AU, instead of it being completely automated, their human-selves are spawning disaster-events. They are actually affecting the game, but only to make things worse for the characters. This is so our silly little guys a little bit more of a motive. Also, I have a bad habit of making AUs and then abandoning them, so if you want more, please send me asks about it.

A few years after Caine and Pomni start dating, the cast starts digging into the game’s code. They find out The Truth about what they are and what their “real” selves thinks of everything. They all (expectedly) do not take this well. Within the next 3 days, everyone abstracts expect for Pomni (and Caine since a can’t) because having Caine with her managed to keep her stable enough… just barely.After all that, Caine tries to dig deeper into the code and (with the help of Pomni) manages to sneak into stuff he wasn’t supposed to mess with. He manages to find were the A.I.s of the performers were held before they abstracted, including the ones that were there before Pomni showed up. Their code is glitchy and incomplete now, but Caine can use it to make what are basically imperfect clones (as in, they differ from the originals). While Caine is trying to figure out all that, Pomni, who was already starting to lose it by being in the game for so long, decides that it’s revenge arc time. She still wants to leave the game, but instead of trying to go back to reality, she’s trying to break into different games, programs, and websites. Someway, somehow, she is going to make their human counterparts suffer. By the time Caine finally gets the hang of making the clones, Pomni has convinced him to join her. And with the clones, we enter into the villain part of this AU. Because while it’s generally agreed that being angry at someone and wanting them to get some sort of punishment is good, doing it yourself in ways that hurt innocent people is bad. And… oh boy. Pomni’s plan was to immediately tell the clones everything so they could help with the revenge thing, it sorta broke all of them and they all abstracted. But Caine does have back ups for all the clones, and each back up is the same as the OG clones so it’s basically regular cloning now. And with that, Caine and Pomni begin to look to ways to reveal the truth about everything to each the clones without them abstracting, with trail-and-error. Countless clones are made and abstracted as they try and fall over and over again. Pomni justifies it to herself with stuff like “the clones are all basically the same so they aren’t really dying” and “I respect the dead unlike my counterpart, I gave the originals and the clones failed bodies’ a grave.” But her biggest justification is the fact that they have had some success. Not entirely sure which ones just yet, but they do eventually manage to get all the right conditions to tell a clone without them abstracting, who then go on to help Pomni and Caine… because it’s not like they have a choice.

That’s it for the story rn. But I will say this, despite the fact that they’re both A Little Fucked Up Actually, they have a surprisingly healthy dynamic. The vibe is Pomni villain-monologuing to Caine to tell him the plan and as a sign of affection, and him thinking it’s adorable. But I will say the two are seeing this through different lenses. Pomni refuses to admit she goes too far and constantly justifies everything to herself, meanwhile Caine can see the writing on the wall and just goes “Oh boy, evil time!”

I haven’t really sat down to come up with designs, but I do know that Pomni and Caine will be mostly the same, just with a bit of the other’s themes mix in. And the clones will also look similar to their canon counter parts, but their designs will be just ever so slightly different from them. But I have decided that everyone has heterochromia, with one of the eye’s colors being an indicator of how much they know and for how long. Blue is “does not know the truth.” Green is “has just been told the truth and Caine and Pomni are waiting to see if they abstract. And Red is “knows the truth and seemingly isn’t in danger of being abstracted.”

#long post #digital circus #the amazing digital circus #showtime tadc #showtime #showtime ship #tadc showtime #pomni x caine #caine x pomni #Villain Couple AU

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hoshinoyozora · 1 year

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The Red Darling

🖤 Pairing: Yandere! Vil Schoenheit x Female! Reader

💛 Word Count: 2,7k+

❤ Warnings: -

[Edited]

Do not re-upload my writing to another website or use it without my permission. Also, don’t ask for a sequel unless I like the story enough to write one. Please reblog so other people can see my stories!

***

I’ve been obsessed with Luz’s song called Darling Blue. The storyline is still confusing to me, but the old song vibes is just *chef’s kiss* I might just write the Neige version. Also, Epel here isn’t/wasn’t Vil’s junior.

“Honestly, how could she neglect her own health like this?”

Vil sighed as he exited the Magicam that once showed the video of you signing your albums to the fans. It wasn’t the first time he’d watched it, nor was it the first video he’d ever watched, but it wasn’t what he focused on the most. It was your sluggish movements, your droopy eyes, your stifled yawns, and your fatigued smiles. Your fans might not see those signs, or they might choose to ignore them, but he did see and he did pay attention.

After all, Vil Schoenheit was your biggest fan.

Despite your imperfect voice, he admired how you always strived to improve yourself. He, out of all people, knew perfection didn’t exist yet he chose to be the best version of himself anyway. Although, there was a lingering regret that Vil wasn’t able to find and support you from the beginning of your career. Regardless, he wasn’t too late. He was there when you performed in a small stage, and he was there when you performed in a bigger stage.

But it seemed that you tried too hard this time.

Pressing a certain number, Vil put the phone to his ear.

“Hello, Adella. When is [Name]’s next concert?”

“Huh? This is the first time you ask that kind of thing.”

“Just tell me already.”

“Wait, let me check.” There was a momentary pause, and Vil tapped his foot impatiently. “It’s on the second week next month. Why?”

“I need the VIP ticket.”

“What?!”

“Do not make me repeat myself, Adelle.”

“O-oh, of course. I’ll purchase the ticket and send it to you as soon as possible.”

“Good, thank you. I’ll be sure to repay the money.”

He turned off the call before she could utter another word and huffed. Honestly, why was she so surprised? It wasn’t as if he’d ever hidden his fondness for you, even if he didn’t particularly gush over you like many of your fans did.

Stroking the photo of you smiling to the camera with a microphone in hand, while the crowd was cheering on you from below the platform, Vil leaned forward and kissed your face. It was his favorite photo due to the perfect mixture of spotlight and sweat that illuminated your glowing features.

And very soon, he’d be able to see it from up close.

***

You sighed wistfully as you stared at the photos of you and your ex, Epel. Your relationship used to be a secret, as it should, due to his status as a mere apple juice merchant. But, suddenly, a news broke out that one of his products was apparently poisoned and it froze the victim until morning. They sued him, and although it was fortunate that he didn’t get imprisoned, Epel still lost a significant amount of money and fame. You tried to help him, because you knew he was planning to propose you, but Epel feared for your futures.

And, thus, he decided to break up with you.

You were devastated, although deep down, you were still in denial of his charges. Epel was the type to pick a fight with someone if they pissed him off rather than poisoning them. Not ‘manly’, he’d say. And yet, even that wasn’t enough to save your relationship. Wasn’t enough to make him believe in you the same way you did in him. Not because he didn’t want to, but because he couldn’t. Too much was at stake here, and no matter how much you tried to convince him that you could be the breadwinner later on, he still refused. For him, a job was another part of his pride.

And now, not even his apple cutting skills could save him from shame. Internally and externally.

So, you threw yourself to work. You practiced day and night, all to forget the depression that crept up on you when there was no music as a distraction and to avoid your manager’s scolding. There was only so much she could tolerate from you, and isolating yourself in your room might just be the end of her patience. The exhaustion shook your body, worsened by the starvation caused by your diet, but you forced yourself to smile. To your fans, and now…

“Vil Schoenheit will be attending your concert later as a VIP. Please show your best self.”

To him.

It wasn’t as if you hated him. Oh, no. If you looked at it from another angle, his perfectionism was admirable. He showed and deserved nothing less. In fact, you could even say you preferred him than Neige. But today was different. Today, you were at your worst self. You didn’t even know if you could survive five minutes on the stage. What would the Vil Schoenheit think of you, then? Being the second most famous actor in Twisted Wonderland was bound to sway some opinions easily, and after all the hard work you’d put in, you didn’t know how to handle the breakdown should you fail to impress him later on.

And you succeeded, even if it was just barely. Otherwise, your manager wouldn’t have told you that he was waiting for you at his private room. At the very least, you managed to stand and smile at the crowd and cameras earlier. It was still an achievement in itself, no matter how petty it seemed.

“Excuse me, Schoenheit? My manager said you want to talk to me.”

“Oh, yes. Come here, and don’t call me Schoenheit. It looks like you’re calling my father instead.”

You tittered and sat down beside him with enough distance to be appropriate.

“So, what do you want to talk about?”

“I’ll be honest, you didn’t reach the high note in your first song.”

You flinched, not expecting the abrupt comment. You knew you made a lot of mistakes, especially recently, but it still stung.

“I-I see. I was trying, though.”

“I know, but your exhaustion has hindered your performance. I expect you to take care of yourself the same way you do to your work.”

He was right, but it didn’t mean you could accept it easily. It wasn’t as if you overworked yourself because you wanted to, anyway.

“… Yes, thank you for your advice, Schoen– I mean, Vil.”

“Don’t just thank me. You should apply it from now on.”

“Of course.”

Somehow, he made you feel as if he was your manager. Or, worse, your mother.

“Therefore, I decided to bring you to dinner with me. Regardless of your mistakes, you still did your best for the sake of your fans. So you deserve a nice meal, at the very least.”

You wondered how many whiplash you’d get from him. First, he suddenly attended your concert as a VIP. Then, he judged your performance so harshly. And now, he invited you to dinner? No, you realized, it wasn’t an invitation. It was an order. And the restaurant wasn’t a typical five star one, either.

No, it was the kind that took months just for a reservation.

Luckily, Vil didn’t talk much during mealtime. He ate calmly and gracefully, savoring each bite. You felt even more conscious of your table manner, and you clumsily tried to follow everything he did. You weren’t sure if you should be flattered or embarrassed when he huffed in amusement.

“Let’s go to my house. I just bought [flavor] tea and I want you to taste them.”

You wondered where did he find out that you liked that particular flavor. Did you tell it to your fans and you happened to forget? If so, then did that mean he was your fan too? The thought flattered you. Of course, it was only logical considering he came to your concert. Still, all of his invitations had been startling despite being a fan. Maybe because he was also as popular as you, if not more.

“You have a lovely home.” you remarked, glancing around the spotless living room.

“Of course. A tidy house reflects a tidy mind.”

You smiled bemusedly, too accustomed by forced humility that his confident answer surprised you a bit. And yet, you found that it suited him very well. He wasn’t lying, anyway, so he deserved to feel proud of himself. You could learn a thing or two about not putting yourself down too much.

“Sit down. I’m going to prepare the tea for a moment.”

The couch was plush and comfy, and after all the whirlwind of activities and the fatigue that came with it, you might as well be falling asleep here.

Luckily, you had a stronger self-control than that.

Your back immediately straightened up when Vil returned with a tray of porcelain cups depicting the poisoned apples. Despite his conduct befitting that of a queen, his elegance when he poured the tea from the teapot was no less amazing.

You sipped the tea as silently and slowly as you could, savoring the flavor and warmth as if it was your last drink. You’d refused the wine from the restaurant earlier, fearing that you’d make a fool out of yourself by getting drunk. It didn’t matter if you could hold up your alcohol well; Vil’s presence demanded only perfection.

“How does it taste like?”

“Refreshing. The scent really calms down my nerves.”

It wasn’t a lie; it did recompose you, even slightly.

“I’m glad you think so. I’ve been wanting to taste this as well.”

You wondered why he didn’t do it himself, but you supposed that drink, just like food, was more delicious and memorable with company.

“Um, may I use the restroom?”

“It’s the third door on the right.”

You passed the kitchen, where the window displayed the darkening sky. Not from the moon, but from the upcoming rain. Hastily, you did your business in fear of being staying over for too long. It smelled vaguely of apple, and the yellow light illuminated the sparkling bathroom. Branded toiletries lined up neatly in the cabinet, and the towels were meticulously white.

It wasn’t until you spotted a slightly ajar door did you stop on your tracks.

Now, of course, you knew curiosity killed the cat. And, in this case, the cat was your job. But when your gut feeling compelled you to approach the room, and see your pictures pinned on the dressing mirrors, you knew it was simultaneously a good and bad thing to do. One of them was you smiling to the camera with a microphone in hand, while the crowd was cheering on you from below the platform. There seemed to be a few lipstick marks on it, cementing Vil’s position as your fan. While the other was a photo of you and Epel, with an X sign crudely slashed onto his face.

It was your anniversary photo, and you wore your best camouflage outfit at that time, so how did he have it? Did the paparazzi stalk you without your knowledge and send it to him somehow? It had to. You couldn’t think of any other possibility.

But the question was why? Why would he have that? You thought he’d at least understand how hard it was to date someone, being a celebrity himself. And yet, the sign on Epel’s face suggested that he didn’t understand, let alone accept it.

He couldn’t accept it.

“Don’t you know that it’s rude to peek into someone’s room?”

You froze, and for a split second, you were tempted to rush inside and slam the door on his face. But that would be a suicidal move, wouldn’t it? It was his room, after all, and he could easily find a key to unlock the door.

“V-Vil,” you tittered. “I’m sorry. Did you wait long?”

The said man squinted at you.

“Long enough to catch a mouse lingering near a place where it shouldn’t be.”

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to be rude, I swear! I was just–”

Curious? Nosy? There was no point in defending yourself, and he knew that. So, you sighed heavily as your shoulders sagged in resignation.

“Why… do you have my photo?” you asked, almost whispering. “The one with my… friend. It was supposed to be a private event. You–” you paused, already doubting your impromptu decision to confront him. Was it even worth digging your grave for the sake of your practically nonexistent privacy? “You shouldn’t have that.”

Vil was quiet for a moment, but you didn’t dare to look up. He didn’t criticize your composure, either, or your posture.

“… Sometimes, I wonder about that too.” he mused softly. “When I first saw that photo, I should’ve burned it to ashes and stomped on it with my heels. But, instead, I let my hands shake and ultimately hang it on the mirror, if not as a source of… motivation.”

Somehow, you had a feeling it wasn’t a good kind of motivation. Your stomach churned at the thought.

“I did a background check on him, and was thoroughly disappointed in your choice of men.”

You flinched instinctively and opened your mouth to defend Epel, but his withering glare silence you quickly.

“I mean, an apple merchant from a small village?” he scoffed. “It was all just too easy, honestly, to set him up. I just needed to have someone buy one of his products, used my unique magic on it, and ordered them to give it to someone so they could have a ‘taste’.”

Your stomach plummeted, and you wished you could run back to the bathroom and puke all of that fancy food earlier.

“I almost pity him, really. He went from poor to destitute, but I suppose it’s still a lot better than death.”

“Why…?” you asked breathlessly, eyes stinging at the upcoming tears. “Why did you do that to him?! What did he do to you until he deserved that kind of fate?! Answer me, Schoenheit!”

His eyes darkened at the name usage just as the thunder boomed outside.

“Because a queen deserves a king by her side.”

You gaped at him. A king? Who was the king? Was it you? If so, didn’t a king deserve a good, sane queen by his side too?

Why did you feel more like a girl under the queen’s unfair wrath instead?

“… It’s getting late.” you mumbled. “I have practice tomorrow. Excuse me.”

Vil grabbed your arm, and you wondered if he could crush an apple with his grip.

“Where do you think you’re going? Can’t you see that it’s pouring out there?” he scolded as if he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on you. “You’re going to get sick, especially in that kind of condition.”

“It’s fine. I always have a painkiller ready…”

Suddenly, everything started to blur and move upside down. You clasped a hand over your mouth and collapsed to your feet, resisting the urge to vomit all over the marble floor.

“See? I told you.” Vil’s voice sounded distant despite him crouching beside you. “You’re sick, because you’ve been avoiding your much-needed rest. Don’t worry, I’ve told your manager that you’ll be staying with me for a few days.”

You were too weak to fight him, let alone escape from him. So, you allowed him to carry your body inside and lay it on the bed. He pulled the blanket to your chin and stood there for a moment.

“I won’t let you neglect your health anymore, especially over that pauper.” he hissed. “Under my care, you shall return to your best version. And I’ll be there as your number one fan and man.”

Deep down, you knew that your predicament wasn’t just because of your fatigue. He did something to you, to the tea, and you’d been too naïve to believe that the queen couldn’t be evil as well.

And his crooked smirk proved your suspicion.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #disney twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland #twst imagines #yandere vil schoenheit #yandere vil x reader #vil schoenheit #yandere twst #female reader #vil x you #vil x reader #twst vil #vil x y/n

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heroes-villains-side-blog · 9 months

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Starting a fire

Part 1 | Part 2

Hero stared at the hi-tech communication device in their hand. It was more than a mobile phone, that they were certain of. This was the same device Villain used to control their weapons, to call for reinforcements, to find other heroes and villains’ locations.

This was also the same device they were going to use to contact the hero agency somehow, to complain about them.

Hero didn’t know how that worked, did the Villain have their number in their contacts, or were they just going to submit a form on the website? Regardless, this device was extremely powerful. A fact that taunted them as they sat and stared at how exactly to get rid of the plain black screen.

It had been an hour since Hero had run away from Villain. One whole hour without any suspicious droppings-in by said villain.

Hero didn't mind to be honest, even if it was suspicious. But best to take advantage of their crime-less free time.

They had started dozing off when they heard the unmistakable pitter patter of people’s shoes, coming towards what they called their door.

They sat up immediately, their first instinct to spot their bag then the window. They thought they were safe. They thought they were careful.

But that didn't matter right now. The strangers outside were knocking on their door now asking to be let in.

They pounced for their bag. Villain’s device, their super suit, some clothes and food they had saved up — everything seemed to be there. They took their shoes in their other hand and ran towards the window.

They jumped, and the strangers outside opened the door.

Hero bounced back. Some force fields were blocking the open window. It wasn’t glass but they had felt this power before.

Villain.

The door opened and a lot of adults barged in, cameras and microphones and notepads in hand. They weren’t dressed in supersuits, which was a surprise, but not one that made Hero feel any calmer.

“Hello!” one adult said too loudly, wearing a dress shirt and pants, holding a mic in hand.

Hero didn't say a word. They stepped backward to the window. They couldn’t escape before, but maybe they could burn the force field, or even just the wall instead.

A lot of camera flashes. And a lot of people.

Hero inched closer and closer to the wall.

And then a well-dressed figure strode in and everyone was quiet.

“I told you, didn’t I?” They sounded familiar. And Hero had the vague suspicion that that line was aimed at them instead of the crowd invading their room.

“How did you know?”

“What are you going to do now?”

“Are there more homeless kids in this building?”

Question after question, and the figure ignored them all, choosing instead to come to Hero and kneel down in front of them.

“Hello, NAME.” Hero panicked. How did they know their name? Who was this person? What were these people going to do with them now? Could they fire blast all of them and escape? Would they get in trouble? Would they get hurt? Were these people villains... Villain.

It clicked.

They looked into those eyes staring at them. Villain’s eyes.

Villain noticed Hero’s recognition instantly and they beamed. Oddly enough, Hero had even changed their stance and posture ever so slighty, seeming more comfortable now that someone in the room wasn’t a stranger to them.

An enemy. But not a stranger.

How… strange, Villain wanted to say. But they didn’t, despite wanting Hero to hear their brilliant puns as soon as they thought of them.

But it didn't matter. Villain had a plan, which was why they had these people come to this run-down slum Hero called a home.

“NAME,” Villain said, a fake softness in their voice which didn't disguise the villainous gleam no one but Hero saw. “I’m going to adopt you.”

Hero remembered being wrapped in a hug and a prick in their neck before they passed out.

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Tag list:

@100percentevil and I think @astr0-mj might like this :)

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Writing journey

Been feeling extremely stressed and realized I haven't written anything in a while. Writing makes me feel better and every few months when life seems to be getting away from me and I seem to be struggling in every way, I'll realize I haven't written. So here you go, part 2 I wrote in like an hour while having 3 deadlines tomorrow.

Please share tips for stress and time management, I am struggling so bad and my brain is going to explode and I keep falling asleep.

Life lesson: Sometimes the less intuitive thing will help. Wish me luck, I'm going to try working on those things tonight when I'm back home.

I do feel better, but now I need to get ready to leave.

Byeee <3

#hero x villain #young hero #superpowers #fire elemental #my writing #heroes and villains #tw breaking and entering #tw drugging #gadgets #snippet #poor hero #Rich villain

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ghastlyfilters · 7 months

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i decided to reread the jurassic park novel AND CAN WE TALK ABOUT HOW MUCH OF A FUCKIN LITTLE RAT JOHN HAMMOND IS

spare no expense my ass mf

(reminder that we’re not talking about the film, we’re talking about where this all began. and i have different views on both versions of hammond. i don’t particularly mind hammond in the movie though he was still at fault for quite a lot that happened. although he had a difference about him compared to the darkness of john hammond in the original novel.)

1. this man does not give a shit about the animals. no. EVERYWHERE YOU LOOK ONLINE SOME WEBSITE OUT THERE ALWAYS DESCRIBES HIM AS “the greedy businessman” like yeah bro knew he was bound to earn that cash after you made the first official park for fucking dinosaurs (bad idea duh) but man.. what a cheapskate.. if you had the money to make the park look “presentable” you’d think he would pay his workers their fair amount. well.

2. WAS BLACKMAILING NEDRY REALLY THAT NECESSARY?? the man had set up national telephone lines, was quick with what he did, made a name for himself with how good he was, and hammond practically took the piss out of him.

dodgson was his last option in that situation, and yes even though it wasn’t the best of schemes, nedry went ahead with it.

hammond literally sees nedry as this fat slob but in reality, nedry had extreme potential with his job. the majority of hammond’s workers were payed utter peanuts. but seeing as nedry was the one in charge of creating the park’s systems, hell.. he really should have had his fair share.

and again, he was in CONTROL of designing security systems for the first park that contained living, breathing dinosaurs..

THAT’S A BIG DEAL.

but because he knew the lack of effort that was put into giving him his reward for literally doing what he was agreed to be paid for, there was no point in giving a shit anymore. he became sloppy for a reason.

hammond threatened to take this man to court if he didn’t get what he wanted 💀

and at the end of the day, nedry got his karma. but damn even that was brutal for someone such as nedry. to say he deserved that would be incredibly cruel.

but again, michael crichton’s novel showed no mercy for certain characters, which was actually a good touch to the storyline.

i don’t even think the intention for anyone to die when nedry continued out his plan was there? then again you let the dinos run loose.. what did you expect.. and of course he ended up getting himself killed..

novel nedry wasn’t the typical, greedy fat bastard everyone made him out to be. there WAS in fact a reason behind his actions. but if he were a handsome skinny man, the audience would be rooting for him, wouldn’t they? then they’d actually feel sorry. which is a bit shitty.

those like muldoon, arnold and the rest of them probably thought the same about nedry. but that’s because perhaps they unfortunately did not know the actual behaviour that went on between john hammond, ingen, and dennis nedry.

3. hammond in the novel had no filter like this man was cocky asf in front of anyone and everyone. whereas in the movie, you only saw hammond act unfairly to some behind closed doors.

BUT, the man went weeee rolling down the hill like a fucking easter egg, so as muldoon said and although this wasn’t about hammond..

“maybe there’s justice in the world after all.”

#jurassic park #michael crichton’s: jurassic park #novel #john hammond #dennis nedry #nedry #michael crichton #robert muldoon #rant post #books

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sometimes-love-is-enough · 11 months

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In honor of the new Cartoon Therapy episode coming out tomorrow (TOMORROW? TOMORROW!), have the first chapter of a fic that I am (sadly) most likely never going to finish. I once referred to it as Eucatastrophe by way of Cartoon Therapy, with less Eldritch Nonsense and more gratuitous cartoon references (of course). Enjoy some Elliott POV fic! The world is sorely lacking in it.

What OVER THE GARDEN WALL Can Teach You About Rescuing Your Therapist From An Otherworldly Magical Forest!

It’s already pretty bad when Elliott’s boyfriend doesn’t show up to couple’s therapy, weeks in a row.

It’s even worse when their therapist is the one not showing up.

At first it’s annoying, but only for the first fifteen minutes of waiting. Elliott rubs their forearms, glances around the Funko Pop-lined walls of Dr Picani’s latest office, and shifts back and forth on the comfy patient’s couch. They check their phone a few times, scrolling through Twitter and old strings of messages, and wonder if they’d got the date or time wrong, somehow.

After fifteen minutes, it’s confusing. Dr Picani is usually nothing less than slightly-less-than-punctual. Sure, he’s almost never actually on time, but fifteen minutes is the worst he’s ever been, and even on those occasions he’s always sure to send a string of reassuring emoji-riddled texts and bring an extra apology mug of hot chocolate from the café he’d been held up at. (Elliott generally prefers coffee, but never brings it up. The hot chocolate’s actually really good.)

With that in mind, Elliott checks their messages. There’s no promises of hot chocolate, no goofy Disney White Rabbit GIFs, no texts at all. They bite their lip, and shove their phone into their pocket before focusing all their attention on the Finding Nemo poster plastered on the wall across from them.

Twenty minutes in, and his secretary pokes her head around the door, looking apologetic. She tells Elliott that it looks like Dr Picani isn’t coming in today, would they like to reschedule?

Elliott does, same time next week will be just fine thank you; and leaves, and goes to sit at the park across the road and worry. The secretary hadn’t said anything about why Dr Picani hadn’t been in today, but Elliott likes to think they’re pretty good at reading people, and they could see that she’d been just as confused as them. They can’t be sure, obviously – they might be overthinking, actually – but it’s entirely possible that this wasn’t a planned sort of absence.

Is he sick? Did he get into some sort of accident? Did he find a life-changing obscure German cartoon on some out-of-the-way streaming website and get fixated on it to the point of forgetting to turn up to work? Did he decide to ditch therapy as a career altogether and accept a job at Disney as the official guy who sits in the corner of cartoon pitch meetings and cheers ‘yeah, heck yeah!’ at each and every pitch that comes over the table? All extremely real possibilities!

…They really, really hope he’s all right.

But the next week, Dr Picani isn’t there – and the office is completely closed. He still hasn’t replied to a single one of Elliott’s texts, which is downright terrifying. His response time is usually about one minute flat outside of office hours, no matter how late at night or early in the mornings it is – something Elliott only knows because of the embarrassing time they’d impulse-texted him at 3 AM to share that they’d started watching Avatar. (He’d been right about Elliott liking Zuko. Letting him know had seemed only fair.) Again, really embarrassing, but at least Dr Picani hadn’t been weird about it. Weirder than usual, anyway.

But there’s no text responses at all, not even read receipts. Elliott’s not even annoyed anymore. They just want to see one incomprehensible cartoon GIF, and then their brain can stop exploding with worst-case scenarios. A single weird reference. One out-of-context screenshot.

Elliott loiters at the closed-and-locked door to the therapy clinic, frowning at their phone, not really knowing what to do. They don’t want to go home and face Mitchell, who’ll only laugh and say I told you so, and he wouldn’t be wrong, he had told them so. But it’s not as if staying here’s going to do any good.

“Hey! Are you one of Picani’s other patients?” says a too-loud someone from behind them, and Elliott’s body makes the fun decision to flinch violently.

“Sloane, you can’t just ask someone that,” hisses someone else.

Elliott turns, and sees two unfamiliar people holding hands, standing nearby. One’s looking at Elliott with expectancy. The other is looking at the first with exasperation.

“I mean,” they say, slowly, “yeah. Yeah, I am. Do you, like… know where he is?”

The person whose voice is too loud gets a look on their face that’s all scary intense and breathes, “I knew it. I knew something was wrong. Didn’t I say something was wrong?”

“Back up,” says Elliott, raising a hand. “What are you talking about? Who are you guys? What’s going on here?”

Introductions all around. Sloane is tall and bright-eyed and has no inside voice; Corbin is his boyfriend and looks like this conversation is the last thing he wanted to be having today. (Elliott can sort of relate to that, but since when have they ever got what they want?) Neither of them have seen Dr Picani for weeks, either – looks like he ditched their group-therapy appointments as well, both last week and just today.

“God, that’s weird,” Corbin says, when they’ve confirmed their respective situations. “He’s… well, he’s a bit out there sometimes, but he’s not an actually bad therapist.”

“Yeah, it was out of character, so we were worried about him,” Sloane says in a majorly straightforward sort of way. “So we were thinking – ”

“You were thinking – ”

“Fine, I was thinking, and you were onboard enough to come here with me – ”

“I can’t believe you’re making me partially responsible for this – ”

“I was thinking that there’s a window at the back of the building that we could probably get through, and then if we get into his office, well – well, I’m not sure what we could actually find out, but there’s probably something, isn’t there?” Sloane is practically bouncing in place, very enthused of his own plan. “Hey, do you want to get in on it? The more hands the better, you know!”

“Sloane, you can’t just invite someone to do break into their therapist’s office – ”

“I totally can! I invited you, didn’t I?”

Elliott sighs, and tries to work out just how much they care about finding what Picani’s up to. The answer is, apparently, enough to break into the guy’s office. They’re not sure how much further past there it’s going to stretch, but they have a feeling that this entire experience is going to be an exercise in finding out. “Fine. But if the cops show up, I’m leaving.”

When their small group of three rounds the side of the building to do an Actual Proper Crime (Elliott is already regretting this), there is a crime already in progress. There’s a middle-aged couple in matching denim jackets watching a younger person with a fierce scowl slashed across their face sitting on top of a dumpster, fiddling with the exact window that Sloane had been planning on going through. The guy with the beard is offering occasional advice. His partner – wife? – appears to be keeping lookout, but not very good lookout considering that Elliott, Corbin and Sloane manage to get all the way into the back alley and right next to the three of them before she notices them.

The kid on the dumpster freezes, and mutters, “Oh, shit.”

“We are not doing anything wrong, and we’re absolutely meant to be here,” says jacket guy loudly.

“Hey, chill, we’re here to break into the office too,” Sloane says, raising his hands.

“Sloane, you can’t just admit to breaking and entering – ”

More quick introductions follow. The angry kid is Kai, the matching-jacket couple are Dot and Larry. They’re also patients of Dr Picani’s, and all seem to have had the same idea vis-à-vis Picani’s office, which Elliot thinks probably says something about the general demographic of this guy’s clients. They clearly haven’t been having much success with getting in, though – the window’s locked from the inside. Apparently therapists lock their windows.

“I know the technique of getting it open,” mutters Kai furiously, “I’ve watched so many YouTube tutorials, but my fingers won’t work. Stupid fingers. Stupid bendy bony fingers.”

“Break the window,” says Sloane enthusiastically, looking like he’s wanted to do just that his entire life.

“Do not,” said Corbin, the polar opposite of enthusiastic.

“I’ll pass,” Kai says, and uncomfortably shifts from side to side from where they’re sitting on the dumpster. “Anyone got something flat and sharp? I can probably wiggle it underneath and pop it open that way.”

Corbin reluctantly passes up his pocket knife, and within seconds, the window is open. Kai gets down painfully from the dumpster, citing bendiness and refusing to climb through.

A moment later, Elliott is voted smallest and lithest, and subsequently reluctantly wiggles their way through the opened gap to unlock the office from the inside for everyone else. They really hope there’s no security cameras in here. This would be the stupidest possible way to get arrested.

Although strangely, they can’t picture Dr Picani actually getting mad about the whole thing. He’d probably compare the whole venture to Totally Spies or some other cartoon Elliott only vaguely knows about, and try to relate the whole thing to dealing with anxiety or separation issues somehow.

Unbelievably, Elliott is starting to miss him.

Two queer couples, a kid with bendy bones, and a very nervous Elliott break into their therapist’s private office at two thirty-five in the afternoon. It’s a bad joke of a situation, and Elliott doesn’t want to know what the punchline is. Inside they find sixty billion plushies, an impressive wall-to-wall tapestry-style Spirited Away poster, and a shelf that’s completely packed with VCR cartoon recordings – among other things.

“Yeah, I don’t know what I expected,” Corbin says. “That’s… yep. That tracks.”

Speaking of tracks, there’s mud tracked all over the Aladdin-style carpet laid out in the centre of the room.

Larry says, “Oh, he’d never let that happen. Someone broke in here.”

To which Kai says, “Yeah, us. We broke in here.”

“No, someone before us,” Larry is saying, and meanwhile Dot and Sloane are poking around behind Picani’s desk. They’re avoiding all the papers and patient files, which Elliott is silently relieved about, and just reading the Hello Kitty post-it notes papered everywhere.

“It’s mostly anime recommendations,” Sloane announces. “Ooh, Spy Family, he has good taste. Oh. One Piece. Uh, less good taste? I mean, it is a classic, but… sheesh, dude.”

“I don’t understand half the words coming out of your mouth,” Dot mutters. “Is any of that relevant, young man?”

“I guess not, but man, I kind of want to see his MyAnimeList now,” Sloane says thoughtfully. “Guy probably has some killer reviews."

Elliott is the one who realizes that the television hooked up to the laptop on the other side of the room is not just on, but is blisteringly hot – like it’s been running for days or maybe weeks, without anyone shutting it off. It’s almost too hot to wiggle the mouse and tap at the keyboard to refresh the screen. When it flickers to life, it probably shouldn’t come as a surprise that there’s a cartoon playing on-screen – soft, smooth animation, oddly-dressed kids and talking birds flitting across the screen. Honestly, it’d be weirder if there hadn’t been cartoons running on this computer.

What’s weird is the fact that the show, whatever it is, seems to be set to a loop – and what’s more, it looks like it’s been running continuously for a very long time. Even weirder; a smudge of that same mud on the laptop screen, like someone had brushed a finger up against it, except it’s weirdly-shaped, almost arrow-like.

As Elliott notices the smudge, something strange happens to the video player. It flickers and stutters, and then freezes altogether on an image of a rather forbidding forest, a path leading into it. The arrow-shaped smudge now points directly down the path, into the trees.

Elliott is, understandably, a little freaked by this, especially when they try to rewind but the video player won’t let them.

They wave the others over, and Kai says, “Oh, that’s Over the Garden Wall, Lauren keeps telling me to watch it.”

“Yeah, I think I’ve heard of it,” Corbin says. “Kind of weird that he left it on when he was gone. That’s gotta be running up a killer power bill.”

Dot’s still at Dr Picani’s desk, and has now sat down on the comfy colorful desk chair, pressing her glasses all the way up at her nose to properly study the sticky notes. “You know, this isn’t all cartoon recommendations. Well, mostly not – he’s got a lot of contingency plans on here.”

Which is interesting enough that Elliott briefly forgets about the weird mud and the frozen screen. “Contingency plans?”

“Yes, he’s got a lot of them,” says Dot, and squints over her glasses at the sticky notes in her hand. “See – here. ‘In the case of loss of faith in humanity, watch My Neighbour Totoro.’ ‘In the event of mysterious deaths of the 1%, watch Death Note.’ ‘In the case of total collapse of personal morals and decency, please for the love of Don Bluth do not make it worse by watching South Park.’”

“Has he got one for ‘weird disappearance out of nowhere involving mud and moss tracked all over his office’?” Elliott asks, half-joking.

Dot looks through the rest of the notes on the desk, and then holds up a dog-eared note, looking faintly bemused. “Over The Garden Wall.”

Elliott blinks, then looks at the TV screen, still showing a shot of that darkened forest. The mud remains, pointing an arrow right into the trees, like a sign screaming, go here. Seriously, go here. I am so not joking about going here. “You mean, like… like this show?”

“I suppose so,” she says.

“Well, that feels like a clue,” says Sloane. “Maybe we should watch the whole thing!”

Elliott wants to say that’s stupid, and by the look on Kai and Corbin’s faces in particular, they’re both thinking the same thing. But Sloane’s not wrong. It does feel like a clue, dumb as it feels. After a second, they start looking around for the remote.

“Hang on, we’ve just found out that Dr Picani’s gone mysteriously missing – we can’t just start watching TV based on a Post-It note he left,” Corbin says incredulously. “Would he really want us to sit here in his office, watching some kid’s cartoon instead of, you know, going out and actually doing something about it?”

There’s a short silence.

“Um, yeah?” says Elliott.

“He’d probably be disappointed if we didn’t,” Kai admits.

“I wonder if he has any popcorn,” Larry says thoughtfully, eyeing the small microwave tucked underneath Dr Picani’s desk.

He does have popcorn. And, well, as long as they’re doing breaking-and-entering, they might as well throw petty theft into the mix.

Elliott really hopes Dr Picani’s not going to mind.

So they watch Over The Garden Wall, and afterwards they all agree that yes, it’s a solid show and yes, Dr Picani’s often-questionable good taste has hit home on this one show at least.

But even thought most of them cried at least once during the impromptu binge session, it doesn’t exactly help them in any way. There aren’t any hidden recordings spliced in-between episodes, there’s no obvious signs or placards in the background art saying ‘THIS IS THE ANSWER! HERE ARE THE EXACT COORDINATES YOUR THERAPIST IS HIDDEN AT!’, and if there’s some sort of metaphor in here, it’s flying entirely over Elliott’s head.

After it’s all done, Sloane is excitedly explaining the Divine Comedy metaphor to a mostly-uninterested Kai, and Larry is eyeing the minifridge. And in the middle of all of this awkward we-don’t-know-where-to-go-from-here, Elliott looks down at the mud-caked carpet and thinks wait a minute, because it’s not just random mud, there’s definite footprints. And more than that – the footprints are leading somewhere.

Leaving everyone else behind for the moment, Elliott follows the mud trail all the way out of the office – down the hallways, past their usual therapy room, and out to the reception area. Now that they’re paying attention and not just trying to get everyone inside as quickly as possible so they don’t get arrested or whatever, they can see that the mud is much more obvious here – several sets of footprints. One big set of therapist-sized footprints, with little puppy paws in the sole marks (Scooby Doo? Courage the Cowardly Dog? It’s anyone’s guess what reference it is, this time!) – and several improbably small sets, which Elliott would have sorted into the ‘animal tracks’ category, if not for the fact that they are visibly bare human feet. Humanoid feet.

“No,” Elliott tells themself, very firmly. “Not thinking about it. Not thinking about the implications. I do not need to to think about the implications. I just… need clues.” They pause, grind a hand against their head, and very carefully do not voice a Blues Clues reference out loud, despite the immense urge to do so. Something about this goddamned office wormed the cartoon thoughts right into the centre of your brain. Probably all of the cartoon merch. It’s near-unbearable. Honestly, Elliott would have switched therapists months ago, if it weren’t for the fact that…

Elliott rubs the side of their head again, this time a touch more anxiously. Yeah. Okay. They’re really worried about Dr Picani. He’s nice, is the thing. And not sugary-sweet, too-cheerful and too-bright nice in the way you might expect from just looking at the guy; he’s got a sharp wit and a gentle hardness. He’s never once dismissed Elliott’s feelings as unimportant or stupid, which is a hell of a lot more than they can say for… a lot of other people in their life.

He’s a weirdo, but what’s that thing everyone always says? Cringe is dead? He’s a good therapist, and you don’t need to be ‘normal’ or ‘mainstream’ to be good at your job. Elliott knows a good thing when they have it, and fuck if they’re going to go through the mortifying ordeal of interviewing a dozen new therapists just because their current one thought it’d be a good idea to re-enact Spirited Away or whatever the hell this is.

Elliott looks behind the front counter, and finds a map there. It’s a normal-looking map of the immediate area, one they’ve seen before pinned to walls of local businesses – but it, much like most of the office floor, is covered in mud. And bright-pink ballpoint pen, in familiar handwriting.

In case of having already watched Over the Garden Wall, it reads, I’m probably somewhere out here.

They carefully lift the map from the desk, and stare at it for a long, long moment before they become aware of the fact that they’re holding it tight enough to crumple the page.

Slowly, they look down at the mud tracks, and the tiny little footprints running all the way through the hallway, all the way out the front door.

Okay. Yeah. Elliott’s officially thinking about the implications now. They wish they weren’t, but they’re thinking about them.

Elliott returns to the office, map in hand, to find Dot and Larry stealing from Dr Picani’s minifridge, and Sloane trying to find hidden hints on the underside of his work desk, while Corbin looks on ruefully.

“Forest’s haunted,” they say.

“What?” Kai says, looking up from a limited-edition Avatar: The Legend of Korra complete artbook.

Elliot holds up the map, and repeats the awful truth of the matter: “I said, forest’s haunted. Does anyone have a car? Because if we’re going to get our therapist back, I’m sure as hell not walking all the way there.”

#cartoon therapy #storytime #my fic #please do not ask me to write more of this or imply that i should do more! it will just make me sad and anxious when i can't.#i am very serious. i will delete this if i start feeling bad about it. i've done it before and will do it again #just enjoy the little that is here.#euCTastrophe

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