#it's so fun to get into old shows and movies that were made before anyone had any reason to believe

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The Curse of Deansgate

An understudy for Chris Peterson? Most of Ned’s friends could not believe it. Nor could Ned, to be fair. The fact that Chris was even doing Broadway was almost just as unbelievable. Hollywood superstars, like him, rarely gave up the time for a twelve-week stint in a production like ‘The Gentleman of Deansgate’. It was going to be, without a doubt, the hottest ticket in town.

Ned watched through some of Chris’ old movies before rehearsals began. He devoured them all: the romantic comedies, the science fiction classics, as well as the action hero thrillers where Chris’ shirt was pleasingly absent for multiple scenes. Ned swooned, still feeling unable to comprehend his good luck. He��d done the Broadway circuit for a few years now and was slowly building a name for himself. A major role in his last show had earned him the attention he craved within the industry, despite the show actually selling rather poorly. But Ned simply loved the theatre and couldn’t wait to see Chris in action on stage. He imagined that the guy would feel quite nervous performing to a large crowd every night, especially after exclusively working on movies for so many years. And, as his understudy, Ned would be sure to support him. He fantasised about them becoming best friends and forging a bond like no other. He felt the bubbling excitement in his stomach as the days ticked down, getting closer and closer to the beginning.

The media coverage was already everywhere, even before the two week rehearsal period. ‘The Gentleman of Deansgate’ was a rarely performed production due to the superstition surrounding its commercial failures in the past. Written in the early twentieth century, ‘The Gentleman of Deansgate’ had apparently never once completed a full run in any theatre; although Ned doubted that to be completely true. Like all superstitions, it made Ned laugh to think that the play would make the usually level-headed investors go weak at the knees; much like all the actors he had met over the years, too superstitious to utter the words ‘Macbeth’ on stage. But a ‘cursed’ play certainly made for an awful lot of clickbait; cleverly helping to fuel the audience’s anticipation, as well as the advanced ticket sales.

However, there was also another reason why the play was being discussed so much; one that Ned felt a little more nervous about. The director would be the incredibly talented Gordon Harrison; an absolute master; especially here on Broadway, crafting incredible productions over a career that spanned decades. He had once played the lead in ‘The Gentleman of Deansgate’ back when he was in his twenties, and was resurrecting it now, perhaps as a form of nostalgia for himself. However, if anyone was to meet Gordon, it might not have been his ingenious directing creativity that they first noticed. Gordon was known to be one of the largest men working in the industry; a ginormous gut and wide butt, weighing in at a waddling five hundred pounds or more. 

Ned was sure that many people had probably made fun of Gordon’s weight over the years, but none so publicly as Chris Peterson. It had apparently happened early on in Chris’ career, when he was still making a name for himself, playing a small role in one of Gordon’s rare movie productions. When asked what he thought of the renowned director, a young, pretty-boy Chris had been less than complimentary, remarking to a journalist about how grotesquely greedy and lazy the fat director was on set; rarely getting out of his reinforced chair to offer notes to the hardworking performers and crew surrounding him; also referring to him as just another ‘failed actor’ who had shifted to directing once his first career ended. They were throwaway comments, but even Ned remembered the media storm that inevitably came from it. 

Perhaps not for the right reasons, Chris Peterson undoubtedly became better known afterwards. He’d been remembered and picked for bad boy roles where a little edge to the character’s personality was definitely a requirement. From there, he’d only gone from strength to strength, after his management eventually taught him to hold his tongue a little more when it came to badmouthing people he had worked with. Now, the director’s offer of the lead role in this play had been widely seen as an olive branch to the handsome actor, as a way to leave the past behind them; one that had been graciously accepted by Chris’ management team who convinced him to sign up straight away. And so, for the first time ever, the money was pouring in from investors, hoping to get a slice of success as ‘The Gentleman of Deansgate’ was about to be performed to the public for the first time in thirty years.

Some men just had that aura about them. It was the thing Ned most remembered about Chris Peterson, the first time he strolled into the theatre. Like any Hollywood hunk, he was painfully handsome, not to mention stylish. But Chris was also incredibly tall and muscular, giving the perception that he could have turned his hand to any sport at all, had the acting career not worked out so well for him. Ned remembered how aroused he was, sitting in the wings, watching the final act, when Chris rehearsed the penultimate scene, completely shirtless: the broad back, the stunning chest, the insane six pack. Not that Ned was a stranger to the gym himself, it was pretty much given in his line of work, but there was just something so awe-inspiring about the physique of a true Hollywood leading man.

Unlike any other production Ned had ever been involved in, there were journalists waiting outside from day one of rehearsals. Gordon had made it clear that no one was to talk to them or pose for pictures, but that didn’t stop them shouting for attention each time the cast walked out. Usually they wanted to know about Chris, or about how Gordon was doing, working with a guy who had so badly insulted him almost ten years ago. If Ned had been allowed to answer them, he could have told them that, in fact, everything was absolutely fine. Ever the professional, a now twenty-seven year old Chris took to the theatre work with ease, and Gordon didn’t seem in the least bit resentful towards him at all. Perhaps that was the point. The reality was so fundamentally boring, keeping the air of mystery kept the media writing about the play and building that appetite for it.

As for Ned’s dreams of becoming best friends with Chris Peterson, well, that had always been unlikely. Although the man had learned all their names and was friendly enough, Chris kept himself to himself during break times and retained that Holwood mystique with the rest of the cast; continuing to be one of the only people Ned knew who could get away with wearing sunglasses indoors and still look sexy. But, in regards to being an understudy for him, Gordon had told Ned straight out that it was never going to happen. People were coming to this production to see Chris and that was exactly what they would get. It was the investors who had insisted on there being an understudy, just in case, but Ned was never going to actually get the chance to perform to an audience. He would simply stick to his significantly smaller role, dying before the end of the first act each and every night.

“Break a leg!” Ned smiled at Chris as the curtain was about to go up on their first night. He still got butterflies each time he had the opportunity to talk to the guy, even after the long rehearsals.

Chris smiled back, seeming as cool as could be; as if none of this phased him in the slightest. Then, with a final intake of breath, he stepped onto the stage, in front of a cheering crowd, surreptitiously dotted with some of New York’s harshest critics.

There was the strangest of feelings in the theatre that night; like an unheard frequency that was somehow ringing in the ears. Chris’ performance was powerful and moving; rising above anything they had witnessed in the rehearsals. Ned could already see the awards and accolades the Hollywood star was about to amass. The final act was a marvel, and Ned saw their large, oversized director sitting in an extra large chair on the front row, smiling with pride the entire time. When the final curtain fell, the audience rose to their feet, but Gordon remained seated. He looked pleased with himself, like he had just accomplished something he had been working towards for many, many years.

At the afterparty that evening, the excitement was electric. Everybody knew that the show was a hit; perhaps the biggest success they would ever be involved in; the pinnacle of their careers. Their director stood, having graciously acknowledged everyone in the cast and crew for all they had done, only leaving one final man to congratulate. He called Chris to stand beside him and slipped his big, heavy arm over the hunk’s broad shoulders.

“You’ve joined a very exclusive club this evening,” Gordon smiled. “There are very few ‘Gentlemen of Deansgate’ out there!” he nodded; acknowledging the fact that he too had once played the part, some twenty-five years ago. “You’re never going to be the same after this.” 

The grin on Gordon’s face was a little too perplexing for Ned. He couldn’t quite make it out. He held Chris’ stare for an almost uncomfortable time, until finally raising his glass and toasting the biggest Broadway smash in many, many years.

The reviews the next morning sang with praise, just as they had all expected. Ned poured over them all, hoping for even a brief mention of his own performance. Instead, Chris had stolen the show, and the promotional image of him in the final scene, shirtless and steamy, dominated much of the pages that were dedicated to the reviews. By lunchtime, Ned could recite almost all of them word for word. It seemed like he wasn’t the only one who had felt the curious atmosphere in the theatre that first night. Each review, every single one, seemed to comment on it in some form; like some magical awakening of acting greatness. Still, Ned cut every last one of them out, saving them all for his own personal scrapbook.

“Do me a favour,” Gordon insisted, raising his hand to get Ned’s attention as everyone else busied themselves backstage for the second night. “Drop these off with Chris, will you?” he insisted, thrusting a box of doughnuts towards Ned.

“What? Take them to his dressing room?” Ned asked, delighted and nervous about getting the opportunity to go and see Chris before the curtain went up. “Does he even eat doughnuts?”

Gordon chuckled. “Oh, he eats them alright!” he smirked, already waddling away to deal with something more pressing.

Ned held the large tray of doughnuts in his hands, feeling empowered, simply to go and see the star of the show before he went on stage. He raced along the corridor like a man on a mission and knocked firmly on the door until he heard Chris’ deep, masculine voice telling him to come inside.

Half dressed, Chris’ fine torso was on show as he collected all of his bits for the first act. Ned felt like he had entered at the absolute perfect time. “Um, Gordon sent these over,” he mumbled, trying to think straight and not stare too much at the gorgeous man in front of him. Just how many people would have paid serious cash to be standing exactly where he was right then?

“What are they? Doughnuts?” Chris asked, dropping his belt on the floor and heading straight over. He reached in and grabbed one with each hand, pushing one immediately into his mouth with the biggest bite Ned had ever seen. He moaned aloud and chewed quickly, as if he hadn’t eaten in days.

“I didn’t know you were so keen on doughnuts,” Ned chuckled awkwardly, simply standing there, holding the box, not knowing where he could put it down. Chris was still purposefully in front of him, seemingly getting ready to take another round.

Chris didn’t answer. He simply moaned as he gorged on doughnut after doughnut; not even caring that his mouth was now covered in sugar. Ned stood there, watching the car crash in slow motion as the entire box was devoured in less than three minutes flat.

“Fuck!” Chris chuckled, swallowing the last of it all. “I had no idea I could do that!” he smirked, turning to look at himself in the mirror, then laughing at how immediately bloated his stomach had become. “Bring me another one of those trays after the show and I’ll let you suck me off,” Chris suddenly declared, reaching his hand down to his crotch and readjusting the suddenly obvious erection that was pressing against his purposefully tight pants. 

“What?” Ned asked; his heart beating faster than ever before. Had he heard that right?

“Don’t act coy,” Chris shot back. “You heard me. I’ve seen the way you look at me. Bring me another tray of doughnuts after the show and I’ll let you suck me dry,” he repeated, reaching for Ned’s limp hand and placing it directly across to his boner. “Deal?” Chris asked, knowing that there was no way Ned would ever refuse him.

Ned left Chris’ dressing room almost shaking with elation. Was this really happening? The hottest, straight hunk in the world was going to let him go down on him after the show? Surely this was just a dream? 

With the first act soon over with, Ned snuck out to the doughnut place across the street and bought the exact same tray of treats that had been delivered earlier. He stood around, pretending to wait purposefully in the corridor, having concealed the order under a pile of clothes in his small, shared changing area. 

The next thing Ned knew, he was back on stage for the curtain call. He’d started to doubt himself; to dispute reality. He was going insane. Chris hadn’t really made such an advance on him, nor made the bizarre request! He was just slowly succumbing to madness. But as they all cheered their way off the stage, Ned felt a very firm hand on his shoulder and the Hollywood superstar bringing his mouth close to his ear, whispering. “You’ve got fifteen minutes.”

After the buzz of the first night, the second night always felt anticlimactic, with people darting off quickly after the show ended. Ned waited until there was a slight lull in the noisy corridor, until he stood outside Chris’ dressing room holding the doughnut tray, knocking until he heard the call for him to enter.

This time, Chris was sitting. already stroking himself in his chair; legs parted and pants removed, ready for Ned to do what he had come here for. Of course he had a large penis, Ned thought to himself, watching the sexy guy stroking it like he was filming a porn scene. 

“Give them to me!” Chris demanded, having eyes only for the tray that Ned was carrying. He reached out, ripped them from him and immediately began gorging, like he had before. Then, with only a nod of his head, he ordered Ned down to his crotch.

Slipping onto his knees, Ned could hardly believe what he was about to do; something he never imagined could be done. He started slowly, determined to get it exactly right; to give Chris as much pleasure as he could. If he delivered Chris the best blow job of his life, he would. He pursed his lips and worked his tongue to perfection, hearing Chris moan with pleasure as he pushed those doughnuts into his mouth. He felt the guy’s large, sticky, icing-covered hand press onto the top of his head, pushing him deeper into his crotch. Ned obliged, willing himself not to gag as his throat opened further. Then, absolute magic. He’d done it. He’d made the Hollywood superstar climax in what sounded like the most intense orgasm imaginable. 

Ned stood, feeling proud, looking down on the hunk slouched in the chair. The man was a mess, covered in icing and sugar all around his face; his toned stomach now bloated and hard. The man seemed dazed, either from the eating, or the intense relief of having ejaculated so forcefully. He sighed multiple times and began tapping his own face as if to bring himself back into reality. “Fuck! That was good!” the man growled, before sitting up and casually feeding himself the larger fragments of doughnut that had fallen onto his chest during his rampant gorging minutes earlier.

Grinning, Ned knew that this was a tale he would be able to recount for the rest of his life: the day he sucked off Chris Peterson in his dressing room!

“What are you doing this evening?” Chris asked, finally getting to his feet.

“Um, nothing much,” Ned replied, feeling the shadow of the large man cross over him.

“You know this city, don’t you?” Chris pondered. “You’re from here, aren’t you? You can take me out.”

“Yes,” Ned answered, without evening thinking; his heart almost leaping out of his chest. “But I wouldn’t know where to take a Hollywood star like you. We’d be harrassed by journalists the whole time if I took you to the bars I usually go to.”

“Then don’t take me to the bars,” Chris shot back. “Take me back to your place and order in.”

“You… you want to come back to my apartment?” Ned spluttered, overjoyed and simultaneously embarrassed by the thought of hosting Chris Peterson in the miniscule space he rented in the city. Still, he had kept the place fairly clean… Maybe Chris just wanted another opportunity for them to be alone together again.

“Is it far from here?” Chris asked, already gathering all that he needed and slipping a few items of clothing back on. 

“Not far,” Ned replied, realising that he didn’t really have a choice either way. “We can head out through the back and be there in five minutes.”

“Good,” the man nodded, already pushing Ned towards the door. “Lead on.”

Just over an hour later, Ned was accepting the second delivery at his apartment whilst Chris lounged on his couch, gorging himself on the pizzas that had arrived five minutes earlier. The moment he went back in, Chris dropped his greasy pizza down and made to grab the bag of Chinese food, not caring that the slice landed topside up on the couch, leaking the oily residue into the material. 

“I didn’t know that you were such a foodie,” Ned sighed, hoping that Chris’ hunger wasn’t going to get in the way of them having more fun later on. He ran to grab a cloth and began attempting to get the stain out.

Chris’s kisses were passionate and arousing after all the food. Ned had seen some bizarre Hollywood diets in his time, but this binge eating of Chris’ had bloated his stomach up like nothing he had ever known. He was gentle around the man in the bedroom, wondering whether he might throw up should things get a little energetic. Hosting a Hollywood superstar, making him climax in his very own apartment, it felt like a moment Ned had been waiting for his entire life; an experience he could boast about for years to come. Had Chris wanted to stay the night, Ned would have been more than delighted, but the man seemed restless and keen to get back to the hotel he was staying in, ordering himself a ride and bidding Ned a goodnight.

Gordon didn’t seem to care when Chris didn’t show in time for their pre-show meetings, rolling in with just enough time to get into costume and get on stage. For the first time, the backstage crew began to grumble about him, knowing that they were only one week in, with another eleven long weeks to go. But just as the lead actor had seemingly lost all passion for it, so had their esteemed director; no longer bothered by the silly little mistakes that were made by the lighting department on the fifth night, nor the fact that Chris had missed his cue several times by the start of week two.

On their opening night, the show had felt like a slick, well-oiled and ambitious machine. Now things were getting sloppy and haphazard. The excellent reviews of the previous week were being replaced by curious clippings in gossip columns about Chris’ amateurish performances. Not only that, but a rogue cell phone had snapped a picture of Chris during his shirtless scene looking significantly thicker than he had seemed in the promotional shots. Ned had seen it first hand as he continued to slip into Chris’ dressing room after a performance for some fun. He’d known that the make-up department had painted on a six-pack for the last three performances. However, nothing could mask the unmistakable width of Chris as he turned to his side; a distinct paunch starting to form. All of a sudden, that one picture seemed to be everywhere and all of the press interest in the play turned directly towards Chris’ weight gain.

“There’ll probably be more people trying to get pictures of you tomorrow,” Ned warned as he snuck into Chris’ dressing room and caught the guy gorging himself on a couple of boxes of cookies that had been left in there for him.

Chris scowled and nodded for Ned to lock the door behind him. “That’s tomorrow’s problem,” he grumbled, sliding down in his chair and pulling out his hardness for Ned to suck on as he ate.

Ned assumed the position, noticing the roll of stomach fat that was beginning to encircle Chris’ waist. His fingers slipped onto it as he took Chris’ hardness in his mouth, noticing the soft and doughy nature of it, slyly ruining the ultimate Hollywood sixpack. Ned knew he was in some way enabling Chris by not walking away and failing to challenge him on his eating but when else in his life was he going to have the chance to be with a global superstar like this?

With the doughnuts gone, Chris stood up and removed the last of his clothes, ready to fuck Ned over the table at the back of the room. Ned obliged, catching the view of Chris’ softer glutes in the mirror as they began kissing; the back fat standing out so much, the skin starting to roll. “Chris…” Ned started, knowing that he could no longer stay silent. “Don’t you think you need to do something about this?” he asked, pinching the actual lovehandles that had blossomed in just over a week.

“Do you want to get fucked, or not?” Chris growled back, clearly too consumed with arousal to think of anything else. Discussions about the guy’s weight were clearly off the table. Ned, lay across his table, spread his legs and allowed the horny glutton to at last get some exercise.

Their esteemed director seemed slightly different over the following days. Unlike Chis’ stomach, which seemed to grow more prominent each day, Gordon appeared to be deflating. His large gut didn’t seem quite so extreme as he strolled about at a faster pace, going from department to department. There was a twinkle in his eye as he saw Ned and a look that suggested that he knew exactly what went on between him and Chris behind the closed doors of the dressing room.

The man had rejected calls for the shirtless scene to be altered so that Chris could cover himself with a shirt, positively laughing at all the press that surrounded the hunk’s sudden gains. “All publicity is good publicity,” he grinned as if he hoped for a boost in ticket sales from it all; not that there was any need. The show had been booked out for weeks before they’d even started rehearsals. 

News outlets began reporting that Gordon had insisted Chris diet immediately and that he had threatened to kick him out from the show should he not comply. However, none of it was true. Of all the people working on that production, the director was the only one who was not in the least bit flustered by it all, even as Chris’ management seemed determined to find a way to get him out of the play and end this constant barrage of bad publicity. 

Ned felt it all very personally, having fallen for Chris during this strange period of his life. But with so much gossip and speculation flying around, how much longer could his fling with Chris stay a secret? A public ‘outting’ was absolutely the last thing either of them needed right then.

“Eight more weeks to go!” Gordon sang, almost tauntingly at them all as Chris stepped up behind the curtain, a rounded stomach pressing out, ready for the shirtless scene. Gordon appeared to wait, listening intently for the inevitable gasps of the stunned audience as the former hunk went out on stage. Then the director would chuckle to himself and stroll happily away.

Getting in to see Chris was becoming harder and harder. A team of people seemed to surround the man the entire time he was at the theatre; men and women who had been flown over from Hollywood to kick Chris into touch. None of it seemed to be working. Even under the strict eyes of his babysitters, Chris’ stomach seemed to be expanding daily. Tensions with the director seemed to flare up as Gordon failed time and time again to renegotiate the star’s watertight contract. The looming fear that the play would end hung like a dark cloud over all of them. As Chris’s belly blossomed into a small, stout and rounded beer gut, each of them looked at each other and sighed. Would this be their last show? How much longer could this insanity continue?

Like a petulant child, Chris appeared to detest all the fussing around him. Sometimes, at night, he would appear at Ned’s apartment, having snuck out undetected from his hotel. He’d order take-out, complain bitterly about his situation and completely fail to show any self-awareness of his own part in the evolving crisis that surrounded him; even as he gorged on pizza after pizza. He’d drawn Ned in, making him feel like the only one in the world who could sympathise with him; the one sane person in his life whilst all the madness threatened to consume him. Ned had been flattered. He felt special. And even though he could see the giant ball of stomach fat growing larger and larger; even as a double chin began to spread itself under Chris’s handsome face and his tight glutes softened with each passing day, Ned still fell for him and stayed up late into the night, pleasing him in any way he could.

It was week four when everything seemed to crash around them. Ned saw the news flash up on his cell phone before anyone at the play got in contact with him to let him know. Chris had left the production, paying a hefty, multi-million dollar fee for exiting early and ending the show.

“You’re up!” Gordon sang down the phone an hour or so later. “You’re my Gentleman of Deansgate!”

“But I thought…” Ned mumbled back; his head spinning.

“One last performance!” Gordon exclaimed excitedly. “Chris’ team were quite insistent upon it as they added a nice buffer into the cheque they signed this morning to get him out of his contract.”

“Why?” Ned asked, remembering how adamant Gordon had once been that he would never allow Ned to understudy for Chris. “What does it matter to them?”

“Just be here early,” Gordon replied, immediately ending the phone call.

Ned didn’t know how to feel. The last few weeks had been the strangest of his life. On the one hand, he felt elated that he was about to have the biggest career highlight to date, seeing his name appearing in the articles about Chris’ sudden departure as the Gordon’s team sent out their official press release about the final show. However, he also knew that he was unlikely to see Chris ever again. The media had already reported that he had left New York for his home in Los Angeles. Just like that, it was all over.

Gordon positively skipped about backstage, racing between the different departments. There was no denying that he had lost a significant amount of weight in the last few weeks and the spring in his step seemed to catch everyone off-guard. Everything had to be perfect once more and the sloppiness of the last few weeks had to end immediately. Yet, despite all the demands and high standards Gordon was insisting upon, there was still a smug, sickly grin plastered all over his face.

“He’s just had a massive payout from Chris’ people,” whispered one of the lighting guys as Ned watched the man with obvious confusion etched across his face. “I was here late last night when they were all negotiating.”

“Well, I expect it must be a relief for him now all the tickets will have to be refunded for the rest of the run,” Ned nodded.

“That stuff’s all covered,” the backstage man replied, shaking his head at Ned’s misunderstanding. “I mean Gordon himself. He’s just had over five million dollars from Chris to let him go early and to ensure there’s this last performance tonight.”

“They paid Gordon personally?” Ned asked. “But that makes no sense!”

Twenty minutes later and the crowds were starting to move into the theatre, bitterly disappointed that the main attraction for attending this play had inexplicably left the production. Ned had no doubt that he wouldn’t be able to please the audience, no matter what he did that night. Ned had braced himself for Gordon’s assertive approach to managing him, yet the man had barely uttered more than a few words. Despite micromanaging everyone else, as the new lead actor, Ned felt almost as if he was going into the whole thing blind. Gordon stood behind him as the music began to rumble into life, placing his hand on Ned’s shoulder just before his cue. The role had been Gordon’s once, many, many years ago. Perhaps he felt like he knew how Ned was feeling. “Welcome to the club,” he whispered, grinning excitedly and nudging Ned onto the stage.

If Ned could have found the words to describe the feeling as he acted on stage that night, his explanation would have been akin to the accounts of out-of-body experiences. It was as if he no longer needed to recall the lines of dialogue; like they simply flowed through his body. His movements did not feel like his own; his walk and stature had altered. It was as if he embodied the character and had no control over any of it at all. In the papers the next morning, they would criticise him for mimicking Chris’ performance to the very last detail, but in Ned’s mind, the only thing he had actually done was to step out onto that stage. Everything else had been autopilot.

Unlike the final show of every other production Ned had ever been in, the mood that night was too low to celebrate afterwards. People hugged backstage and collected all their things, knowing that they would not have an opportunity to do so at any other time. Meanwhile, after all the obligatory praise, Ned headed back into the main dressing room as if his mind had drifted below a dense fog. He simply sat in his chair, staring at his reflection in the mirror. What on earth had come over him?

Half an hour later, a drunken Gordon came skipping into the room, holding a glass of champagne for himself. “You did wonderfully!” he beamed at Ned, despite the fact that Ned had already been told that Gordon hadn’t seen a moment of it; too busy celebrating backstage. “And now, no one else will perform this play for many decades to come!” he beamed. “‘The Curse of Deansgate’ has struck again! An incomplete run, just like every other time it’s been attempted. No financial backers will go near it again,” he laughed, as if this had all been such a vast, cunning plan from the very beginning.

“Everything worked out pretty well for you, though,” Ned managed to utter, catching the scent of something sweet down the corridor and suddenly feeling remarkably hungry. 

“Even better than I expected,” Gordon nodded emphatically, running his hand down his surprisingly deflated gut. “But the curse has never been about financial ruin, has it?” he laughed. “The curse has always been something much more insidious. I taught that arrogant fuck a lesson and got a very decent payout at the same time.” He looked at his reflection in the mirror, seeming pleased with what he saw. “It’s been a very successful few weeks!”

“You never really did forgive Chris, did you?” Ned asked, feeling the strangest sense of familiarity with Gordon. The man’s last words to him before he had gone on stage had been to welcome him to the Deansgate ‘club’ and now that Ned was there, he felt as if he could ask Gordon anything and be told the exact truth.

Goron closed the door that he had been propping open with his large body and stepped inside so that he could not be overheard. “Of course not,” he laughed. “And you sealed your fate the moment you started sucking him off back here after each performance.” He looked down at Ned disapprovingly. “You’re a serious actor. You should have known better than that!” he scolded him. “Perhaps I should have fired you then and saved you from all this.”

Ned dropped his head. Gordon was certainly right there.

“I hadn’t ever planned to let you take the lead. But when Chris Peterson’s management figured things out, the opportunity to throw you under the bus was simply too easy.” He looked down at Ned with triumph dancing in his eyes. “Lay down with dogs and you get fleas.”

“What did they figure out?” Ned asked, having the strangest feeling that the way his mind was so clouded at that moment was all related to something much larger.

“Here,” Gordon grunted, reaching into his pocket and pulling something out. “I’ve been told to give you this.”

An envelope was thrown into Ned’s lap without Gordon even making an effort to step forwards. Ned opened it up and found a plane ticket to Los Angeles, departing at 2.05am. 

“Lover Boy wants to see you!” Gordon explained, holding back a snarl.

Silently, Ned felt elated. From the moment he’d read that Chris had left New York, he had believed that their fling was over. Now he was realising that he hadn’t been forgotten after all. “Well, I guess there’s no point in sticking around here these next few days, anyway” he sighed, looking around the dressing room he would have to vacat shortly.

“No, I quite agree,” Gordon smirked. “I’ll message him to let him know that you’re on your way.” He placed his hand on Ned’s shoulder. “Now that you’re the very latest Gentleman of Deansgate instead, I have a feeling that you’re about to meet the real Chris Peterson at long last…”

Ned felt eyes on him the entire time as he made his way to the airport and flew across the country, not really knowing what was going to happen when he finally arrived. In the arrivals lounge, a driver was waiting, holding up a banner with his name written across it. Ned’s only backpack was taken off his shoulders as he made his way to the expensive car that was to carry him away. 

They pulled up forty minutes later at the most obscene residence, overlooking the Hollywood hills. The whole residence seemed llavish beyond words. Unlike the chill of a New York winter, the sun shone gently on Ned’s face and he sighed in appreciation at his own good fortune.

A member of Chris’ extensive team came straight out to greet him, ushering him inside almost as if he was expecting a team of photographers to ambush them from the gates . Everywhere was pristine and surprisingly immaculate, from the large marble pillars to the extensive windows at the back of the property, overlooking an enormous swimming pool and the incredible view across the valley.

Ned sat down at the large breakfast bar in the kitchen, where pastries and snacks filled several plates for the members of Chris’ entourage. He was told to help himself whilst the man left the room to let Chris know that he had arrived. Whilst Ned ate, he heard the splash of someone emerging from the pool and suddenly saw the large, looming shape of Chris Peterson marching across the terrace towards the expansive kitchen. Dressed in only his swim shorts with a towel lazily draped over his shoulders, Chris moved with an assertive speed that Ned had not seen from him before; although, his fat stomach popped out in front of him, firm and rounded under his large pecs.

“Excellent!” Chris cheered, spotting Ned and striding straight over to place his hands on his secret lover’s shoulders as he ate. Chris’ strong fingers massaged Ned’s shoulders, not offering any other sign of affection, most likely because his team were all so close by. “Did anyone see him arriving?” Chris asked someone behind them.

“No, sir. It was all very fast and discreet,” replied a deep masculine voice.

“Good,” Chris replied, his hands massaging more softly now and leaning in to whisper into Ned’s ear. “I bet you’re hungry after all that travelling.”

Chris suddenly stood bolt upright and marched about once more, heading to the refrigerator and pulling out as many things as he could.

“Sir, sir…” counselled a woman from his staff. “You don’t need to do that. We’ve got this covered. You can head back to the pool. We’ll look after Ned.”

Chris looked across at Ned, as if calculating whether he could trust his entourage to do what they were promising. “Fine,” he spat, turning around and marching straight out, clearly in a mood about something. “But I need results. I need all of this mess sorting out now!”

Coming down from the high of his great performance the night before was almost impossible. Ned had hardly slept at all on the plane and he had the remarkable feeling of being almost drunk. Time seemed like nothing at all as Chris’ friendly team fussed around him. He was led out onto the terrace to watch Chris’ gruelling swimming training with his coach. Every now and then, the unnecessarily angry actor would call out to his team any time he looked up and saw that Ned wasn’t being looked after with something to eat or drink.

“You’ve got one fucking job!” he yelled from the pool, making them all rush about to serve Ned something else.

Ned was half asleep when he heard Chris’ voice mumbling around him. “Fucking wake him up then!” he ordered one of his team, before huffing and coming over himself. “Ned… Neddy…” he called out in a voice that was barely soothing. “It’s dinner time, buddy!”

Ned opened his eyes.

“He’s awake,” Chris nodded to two guys, who promptly lifted the back of Ned’s deckchair up so that he was sitting upright. “It’s time to eat now, buddy,” Chris explained to Ned, like he was a toddler, using the kindest voice he had heard from him all day. “Mmmm! Look at all this!” he cooed, as a perfect height table was rolled underneath the deck chair so that a table sat just in front of Ned, loaded with different items.

Overcome with hunger, Ned set to work without questioning any of it. Once food was in front of him, nothing else seemed to matter.

“Good. This is good,” Chris nodded again at his team, as he looked back and forth between them and Ned. “He seems to like this the best,” he pointed at one of the dishes, as if that was a cue for them to get more. 

Faced with so much food, Ned found it hard to concentrate. He was given large, chocolate flavoured drinks that were thick and almost difficult to swallow, however Chris seemed to nod his head in approval each time Ned managed to get one down.

Ned wished that everyone else would disappear. He felt so uncontrollably horny for Chris, yet there were always people around, making it impossible for them to come together. Something about the food seemed almost… erotic. He’d never felt this way before, nor eaten so much in only a few short hours; although he wasn’t quite sure how much that was.

As night time approached, Chris entered Ned’s bedroom carrying a large tray of doughnuts. “A little treat before bed!” he winked charmingly, throwing them down on the mattress.

Ned felt his body lunge for them and he began stuffing the first one into his mouth. Chris hopped on beside him, throwing his arm over Ned’s shoulders like they were old friends, rather than lovers.

“That fucking play, huh?” he grumbled to Ned as the guy ate. “Gordon did us both dirty with that one… and I had no fucking idea!” he laughed, like he had had some lucky escape. “That’s why it’s always important to have people looking out for you behind the scenes. That could have been the end of my whole career!”

Chris noticed a large piece of Ned’s third doughnut break off as the houseguest ate a little too fast. Chris picked it up, not caring about the sticky icing that had spread across the sheets, but keen that Ned should get it down him. 

“I’m afraid I’m not going to try and stop you eating, like you did with me.” He looked down at his own, stout gut and sighed. “Look at all this!” he complained, grabbing a large wedge of it. “How the hell did you ever let me fuck you, looking like this? It’s disgusting!”

“You’re beautiful,” Ned mumbled through a mouthful of food, spitting a little out.

Chris tutted and exhaled in frustration. “You’re wasting it!” he growled in annoyance. Getting more fed up when Ned tried to apologise and did the same thing again. “Look, just sit back a bit more and let me take care of this,” he insisted, handing Ned yet another doughnut and feeling his hand into the eager guy’s crotch, grabbing at the hardness, but not stroking until Ned started to eat. 

Ned had never known bliss like it: the tastes on his tongue and the pleasure down below. Each time he swallowed and opened his mouth to moan, in went a fresh doughnut. There were multiple points when he felt like he could have climaxed, yet Chris seemed to hold him back until the very last moment. He came, feeling like a strong jet had erupted from his groin, opening his eyes moments later to see Chris dropping the emptied doughnut tray onto the floor and wiping his hands on the bed sheets. “Was that nice?” he asked, returning to that slightly patronising tone.

Ned nodded, feeling utterly spent.

“Good,” Chris smiled. “Would you like the same again tomorrow?” Chris asked, like he was trying to bargain something out of Ned. So when Ned nodded, stuffed full of food and bloated, the man couldn’t help but chuckle, heading back to his own master suite.

Chris had lost weight. With all his training and determination, Ned had never seen a belly shrink so quickly. Yet, over the coming days, he felt an onslaught of fat begin to slide onto his own stomach, inflating it with softness in an unnaturally speedy manner. Sometimes he would wake from an afternoon nap to find a measuring tape had been wrapped around his arm or thigh, by a member of Chris’ staff; no one seeming in the least bit surprised at the sudden transformation, despite monitoring it closely.

Ned knew he should be paying more attention to his body. But food was everywhere and his brain felt like it was in such a fog. Dressed only in a pair of swim shorts, he couldn’t detect a stretching in his clothes, nor remember where he had even put his cell phone to communicate with the rest of the world outside of Chris’ incredible house. Nothing he seemed to do from that point on appeared to annoy Chris, with the man’s face lighting up each time he saw a shirtless Ned lazily trotting towards the breakfast bar to eat. The other staff were relaxing too, with fewer of them there in the day now. The ‘crisis mode’ of the previous week was now over. 

Chris lifted his arm and still felt a slight stubborn clinging of fat around his love handles. “Do you want some ice cream?” he asked Ned, as if this would somehow remedy the problem. Without waiting for an answer, he headed over to the freezer to fetch it and dumped the complete tub in front of Ned, along with a large spoon. 

Back Chris went to the mirror, turning and flexing, all the while keeping a watchful eye on Ned.

“It’s almost time for you to go home soon,” he smiled. “A couple more days and things should have worked themselves out.”

“I don’t think I want to go home,” Ned replied, feeling his heart sink.

Chris laughed and came over to pat his chubby friend on his back. “I know. I know,” he smiled. “But what am I supposed to do with you once I’m back to my old shape?” He looked down at Ned’s shirtless body and seemed to grimace at the rolls of fresh blubber along his side. “You’ll just be getting more and more out of shape and I don’t really want that hanging around outside by the pool.” He ruffled Ned’s hair playfully. “I’m sure you can understand that,” he laughed, pulling a fresh bottle of water out from the refrigerator and sliding a bowl of potato chips closer to Ned instead. Then, off he went onto the terrace, diving into his pool once more.

Ned didn’t see Chris after that. The guy had disappeared later that afternoon after a lucrative advertising deal had emerged. He read later on that Chris had claimed his appearance in the play had been caused by some form of abdominal distension, unrelated to weight gain. Several so-called ‘experts’ disputed that, but when the hunk reappeared in beach shots looking just as fit as ever only a few days later, all other explanations seemed to be implausible.

No such rapid recovery came for Ned, however. Once home, his ravenous appetite seemed to consume him and he was dropped by his agent only six months later after piling on a ridiculous amount of weight in that period. And, although he could never prove it, Ned always had a suspicion that Chris Peterson’s team had been at least partly behind his declining career; desperately wanting to reduce his influence after everything that had happened with their golden boy.

Ned’s handsome face seemed to bloat and his chiselled jawline was engulfed and framed by an unflattering amount of neck fat. His pecs drooped within a month and his stomach fat swelled into a giant ball of surprisingly squishy blubber. Pants were hard to come by, given how wide his rear had become after the first year. Ned found that he had to detach himself from his old life and form something new; taking inspiration from the only other man he had known to have gone through the same experience….

It was thirty years later when Ned sat in the same old theatre where they had performed ‘The Gentleman of Deansgate’ all those years ago. It had taken him decades to finance a new run and convince his investors. But, at long last, the show was ready to audition the lead roles. 

Years ago, after Ned had had time to think and understand it all, unemployed and gaining pounds and pounds of lard by the day, he wrote it all down; every last detail of that play he would one day hope to direct: the lighting, the sound, the timings, the instruments. He didn’t know which parts were important to whatever power fuelled the curse that he had lived with for so long; transforming him into the gluttonous man he had been all these years. Everything had to be perfect.

“I’m very grateful to you for coming all the way over here to audition,” Ned smiled at the handsome, young hopeful standing on the stage: the image of his beautiful father. 

“I’m very flattered that you wanted me,” the athletic twenty-seven year old replied. “I believe you were the understudy for my father when he performed here? It was his only Broadway appearance.”

“Yes, yes,” Ned nodded. “That seems like a lifetime ago!” he lied. “And I’m sure your father would be very proud to see you standing there now, ready to fill his shoes,” he smiled, pretending to be sorry that Chris Peterson’s drug-fuelled car crash had claimed his life five years earlier.

The audition went well; not that Ned had ever seriously considered anyone else for the role. Revenge could come in many forms, but few as sweet as this poor boy.

“I think this show is going to be a huge success!” Ned grinned, eyeing his new lead actor’s cute butt as he skipped out of the theatre having just signed a watertight contract. “I can’t wait to get started!”

[plotsignificanthaircut555]

Paper Thin Walls

Your neighbor, Nanami Kento, comes over four times complaining about noise. And then a fifth time. AO3

Warnings: SMUT, MDNI, 18+ Only. fem! reader, grumpy! nanami, angsty, some light vouyerism, through the wall masturbation overhearing (does that count?), cunnalingus, riding, penetrative sex, reader has female anatomy, dirty talk, kissing, not explicit spit this time but i sneak it in there (and i always will), DIRTY, NASTY, WET,

Word count: 8.2k,we looooove a bad neighbors enemies to lovers, sorry y'all but i eat it up every time, i hope y'all do too. This is probably the grumpiest i have ever written Nanami but i hope the soft at the end gave you guys the sweetie that we all know and love, especially on this blog.

THUNK THUNK THUNK 

You nearly dropped the bottle of wine you were uncorking when you heard the loud, impassioned knocking on your front door. Your friends quieted their conversation and looked to the door, a mixture of shock and confusion on their faces. 

How embarrassing. 

You rolled your eyes, already fed up with what you knew would be on the other side of the wood. You gesture to your friends to continue enjoying themselves as you would handle it. They tentatively turn back to one another huddled around your small coffee table dressed with snacks and cups. You had worked hard on this party, you didn’t get to see your friends very often so being able to enjoy a night together to relax and catch up was so valuable to you. And no dickhead neighbor with a stick up his ass was going to ruin it. Walking to the door you drew in a strained breath, trying to smooth your irritation, before unlocking, unlatching and just barely opening the door. Even just a crack was enough to see him seething in front of you. 

Kento Nanami, your neighbor. Your very irritable neighbor. The one man HOA of your apartment complex floor. Your neighbor who, since you moved in three months ago, has stopped by your apartment three times to badger you about your noise level. You had lived in apartments your whole adult life, not once has anyone complained about you, you were a MODEL neighbor: kind, social but not overbearing, always said hello in the hallway, happy to watch pets or plants while people were out of town, you are a goddamn delight as a neighbor.

It was this fucking guy who had the problem, huffing at your doorstep in his stupid little American girl doll glasses and overly neat button up shirt that he probably pressed every morning before getting dressed. 

And once again, here he stood, vein in his head pulsing against his skin, elevens creased in his forehead between his scowling eyebrows, jaw muscle looking on the verge of snapping.

“Ms—.” He started but you cut him off. 

“Good evening Mr. Nanami, to what do I owe the pleasure,” you smiled jovially, as though his presence wasn’t a nuisance, “this time.” 

“Good evening. Yes, it is the evening, isn’t it?” He made a little show of checking his bulky silver watch.

“I’m sure the very expensive looking watch on your arm could tell you that it’s 8:45 pm. A very normal time for people to be enjoying themselves, especially on a Friday night.” You leaned your head against the doorframe looking at him, “Having a little…movie night in?”

He stared at you a moment, his eyes moving over your face coldly, eyeing your sly smile, 

“so you know I’m here about the noise.” 

“You’ve never come to my apartment for another reason.” You sighed, “call it a hunch, I guess?” 

A laugh came from inside of your apartment, louder than the ambient music you were playing, not exactly helping your case. 

Nanami rolled his eyes at the laughing,“Quiet hours start at—“

“10. And I plan on honoring them, I just have some old friends over tonight. We’ll be sure to keep our joy and fun to an acceptable level.” You were feeding him the lines you knew he wanted to hear, but your performance wasn’t exactly impassioned. 

His jaw tightened again, you imagined the sound of his back teeth grinding together. He looked down at you silently and you stared right back up at him. A silent battle was had between your stares, him trying to intimidate you into the silence he craved, and you not backing down even an inch.

Finally he caved, “I would appreciate that. I am sure the rest of the hallway would as well. Good night.”

“Enjoy the rest of your night, Mr. Nanami.” You called down to him as he turned and stomped down the hallway to his own door. 

Right. Next. Door. 

You rejoined your friends and enjoyed the rest of your night exactly as you had before. Not turning any music down, not stifling any laughter, not dulling any conversation for the sake of thin walls. Every now and again you took a private moment to imagine your neighbor seething in his quiet, perfect little apartment all by himself.

“So….are we going to talk about how hot your neighbor is?” Soph, your best friend, posed. 

“Thank you for saying something. I barely saw him but oh my GOD.” Kat, your oldest friend added. 

You laughed, it was undeniable how handsome he was, when you first saw him as you settled in in your first week you secretly hoped he might stop by to introduce himself, entertaining the fantasy of him coming over to help you “fix something” a few too many times before even finding out his name.

“Sure he’s hot, when he keeps his mouth shut.” You sighed, annoyed, busying yourself refilling glasses, “What a waste, honestly. I’m tired of guys who think they’re too hot to be nice to people. Not even nice, just fucking polite is fine.” 

Your friends laughed. 

“When I moved in, a bunch of the other neighbors stopped by to say hello. Not him, I would only ever see him in the hallway and he wouldn’t wave, wouldn’t say hello, nothing. He’s so…..serious.” You sipped your drink remembering the times you had tried to say hello to him in the hallway only to be met with a half nod and a hurry into his apartment, “First time he ever even spoke to me was to tell me the sound of my moving in was too much.”

Soph pouted, sipping her refilled, “That’s a shame. I was going to say you should try and hit that.”

“Who knows,” Kat posed, “maybe getting laid would help him relax?” 

The three of you laughed, surely sending the noise through the wall and into the subject of debate’s apartment. 

This had been your fourth offense against him. Nanami was fed up, he had been polite the first few times, but this was getting out of hand. You had only moved in a few months ago, there was no excuse for him to have had to go over there this many times already. Sitting on his couch, drafting a complaint email to the main residential office, another roar of laughter rang from the back wall of his apartment. Nanami groaned and slumped against the back of the couch, rubbing his aching forehead. This much irritation can’t be good for him.

He had been spoiled by the place next to him having gone unoccupied for so long. He’s lived in this apartment for two years, going on a third, and nearly all of that time has been spent with no one next door. At first he assumed he was just sensitive and needed to acclimate to having someone nearby, but it was like you were broadcasting every sound directly into his living room.

The worst part was the bedroom walls. He deduced that the layout of your apartment must be a direct mirror of his own, inverted but identical, meaning the back wall of his bedroom must be the back wall of your bedroom as well. He could hear the noise from you sleeping with your television on, a terrible habit that he abhorred. He could hear the music you would play in the mornings when you were presumably getting ready for work. And for you to be so curt with him when he politely tries to let you know how easily he can hear you? It was unreasonable. 

The first time had been within the second week of you moving in. You were setting up some furniture, sounds of hammering, scooting, drilling ringing through the walls and keeping him from sleeping in on a SUNDAY morning. He had gotten up from bed, thrown on some more presentable loungewear and knocked on your door. That was the first time he had really seen you, kind eyes, pretty smile, smooth, even skin. You smiled up at him when you opened the door, all too awake for such early weekend hours. 

“Excuse me. My name is Nanami Kento, I live next door. Would you mind keeping the noise down a bit? It’s still pretty early.” 

Your smile sagged a bit, “sure! I’m sorry, I guess I’m getting used to how thin the walls are here. I’ll keep it down.” 

“Thank you.” He nodded, “and…welcome to the building.” 

“Thank you! It’s nice to meet you.” You had smiled back at him, small dimples appearing by your mouth. 

He could have fallen for you, allowed himself the rare indulgence of crushing on you. If that had been your only offense. 

The second incident was how he discovered that your bedrooms shared a wall. He had come home late from the gym. It was around two o'clock in the morning, he drug himself back home and into the shower, sleeping threatening to take him even under the heavy spray. Work had been about four hours too long, his head was aching, his workout had offered some relief but the only thing that would truly fix it at this point was the hard reset of sleep. Nanami pulled himself into bed, not even bothering to dress, choosing to ignore the remaining water that would sink into his sheets. That would be a problem for another day. Head on the pillow, cool bedding soothing his heated skin he could barely contain how excited he was to finally sleep, when he heard it. 

“o-oh….” 

It was so faint he assumed it was in his head, the product of an oncoming dream seeping over into his waking world. Ears tuning in against his will, he was able to hear the faint buzzing. He shot up, renewed energy brought about by the awareness of what was happening next door. You, his neighbor, were masturbating and he could hear you. He felt his ears get hot, his heart quicken, and --- oh christ his pants tighten. Soft moans sounding through the wall, quickening in pace, buzzing battering his brain to mush as he began to panic. He didn’t want to listen, it was wrong, this was wrong. Fuck, was his mouth watering? 

Fuck. fuck. Fuck!

He squeezed his eyes shut, covering his face with his pillow, clamping the cushion around his head over his ears in desperation. Nanami was relieved when your wimpers were snuffed out. Under the darkness of his pillow he hoped he could finally begin to fall asleep, but through the void an image began to appear behind his eyes. You, his pretty neighbor laying on your back, legs open, finger in your mouth trying to quiet yourself. How ineffective. You had been just the slightest bit sweaty when he first spoke to you. The act of dragging and pushing furniture having given your skin the slightest sheen. He was willing to bet that you had a similar glow about you now; working a toy between your legs, bed covers discarded at your ankles, a wet spot growing underneath your shaking hips---

FUCK.

Nanami sat up in a jerk, shaking his head side to side as though he could physically dislodge the picture out of his mind through one of his ears. With the pillow removed he could hear your moans rising in pitch, his dick pulsed. Fuck, this was so wrong. Were you about to climax? His heart was pounding, he was rock solid between his legs, he gripped the bed sheets tight to restrain himself from caving and pumping himself into oblivion with you. In the sickest part of his mind he wanted to press his ear up to the adjoining wall, listening to your languid moans, indulging himself fully in your passion. 

Finally, as though fate could feel his resolve starting to crumble, he heard a long high pitch whine escape through the drywall. Then silence. Then the sound of laughter from whatever tv show you put on to go to sleep. He was panting, trying to catch his breath, much as he imagined you were. He laid back against his pillow, staring up to the ceiling, mind reeling over the possibility of this happening again. How could he avoid this in the future? Should he politely inform you of the mirrored apartment layout and the thinness of the walls? 

Nanami purchased a white noise machine the following day. Only after stopping by your apartment and asking you to keep the television noise lower at night, saying he was a light sleeper. He hoped you would make the connection that he was struggling towards, voice clipped and cheeks blushing furiously as he nodded and retreated to his own domicile. He leaned up the door as he shut it behind himself, sighing in relief, praying that this would be the end of it and he could forget the saccharine sweet sound of your moans.  

The third incident was far less indecent, but no less annoying. He was home early from work, having taken off an hour or so before he usually would as he completed a big project that had taken over two weeks and was dead tired. All he wanted was to eat dinner, watch a movie, relax and push all the numbers and negotiations out of his head. Apparently you had the same idea. When you arrived home, he knew because your slamming door shook his wall as well. It had been a week or so since he last heard you but still the sound brought a crimson flush to his face. He didn’t hear much after that for about a half hour, that is, until you turned on your music. Loud, bossa nova or jazz or whatever it was sponging into the insulation between your two abodes and resounding around his own apartment. He couldn’t hear the movie he had put on, he couldn’t enjoy his dinner, hell— he could barely think. He had given you a pass when it was intimate noise but this was unruly and excessive. 

He stomped out into the hallway, the music echoing out there as well. And over to your door. He knocked, maybe a bit too hard, and waited for your arrival. When you did open the door, after just enough time for him to consider knocking again, he once again had to look down to meet your eye line. Music flooded out from the doorway, warm amber light, and the smell of sizzling peppers and oil wafting out, carried by the soundwaves. 

“Hello again, neighbor!” You greeted him, smiling warmly with big, full eyes. 

“The music.” He hadn’t meant to sound so stiff, he had intended to greet you politely and remind you of the wall's thinness but he had had it. Here you were enjoying your cooking and music and inhibiting his ability to do the same, it was unfair, unjust. 

You sighed leaning against the door frame huffing out, “We just can't seem to find a comfortable level, huh? You picked a good movie, very suspenseful soundtrack, one of my favorites actually.” 

Nanami straightened up like a shot, how could he have been so stupid? His television was right up against the “back” wall of his apartment, right against your kitchen wall. The sounds of his apartment, although infrequent, had echoed through your walls too. How many sounds, he wondered. 

“You--I’m sorry, I didn’t realize.” He began but then hardened again, “You should have told me to turn it down, I would have been more than happy to oblige.” 

“Hm.” Your lips formed a tight line, “I’m not really into ordering strangers around in their own homes.” 

It was the first and only time you had sassed off to him. He was taken aback, he could feel his neck heating up under the collar of his shirt, his fists balling up at his sides as he furrows his brow at your disrespect. 

Scoffing, he finds the words, “just be courteous to your neighbors.” 

Nanami descends down the hallway, flexing and un-flexing his hands in measured attempts at cooling himself, before he could step into his apartment you called down after him. 

“The therapist was dead the whole time, that’s why his wife won't speak to him! The guy at the beginning shot and killed him!” You shouted and slammed the door behind you.  

It was an incredibly childish move on your part. If someone had done that to you, or if you had even heard of someone desecrating the ending of one of the best mystery thrillers of all time, you would have been furious. But something about this man brought out such pettiness in you. You couldn't help it. You half expected him to knock again and berate you for spoiling his night once again, but instead you heard the sound of his apartment door shutting and the movie resume. 

Credit for sticking it out and watching the movie anyway. You couldn't help but smirk a bit, impressed. 

It has enough legs to stand on its own even without the twist, it really is a good movie, you felt bad for wrecking it. It really was one of your favorites, similar tastes. Maybe this whole time you could have been friends. Although, you couldn't imagine being friends with someone so stuffy and entitled. It didn’t matter that he watched some of the same movies, so did lots of people. It didn’t matter that he was handsome and well dressed. It didn’t matter that when he played music in the mornings it overlapped with your favorite artists. He was an ass and never even bothered to introduce himself once before complaining about you. 

This back and forth had brought you all the way to tonight, him trying to reign in your party, stifling your enjoyment of it and making you hyper aware of every loud burst of laughter or adjustment of the volume. Despite your efforts to ignore it at this point, the desire to be a courteous neighbor occasionally won you over and you found yourself engaging in more subtle, intimate conversations, lowering the music and talking softer. 

When the party finally came to an end and your friends kissed you goodbye and left, giggling down the hall, you waved to them and watched as they slipped down the hallway. Your eyes fell on the neighboring apartment's door, you checked the time. It was just after ten, Nanami was probably asleep, snoozing soundly after having gotten his words in about your party and your carelessness. Feeling the bile of anger rising in your throat, you decided to turn back and retreat to your own apartment. The soft unlocking sound brought you back to the empty hall. 

Nanami stepped out, wearing a pair of expensive looking sweatpants and a dark grey sweatshirt. Even through such baggy clothing you could see his impeccable build, thick, ropey neck, broad shoulders, long, sturdy legs. His hair was down and unstyled, sandy stranded falling onto his forehead, some even extending far enough to brush against the bridge of his nose. A pair of headphones hung around his neck. He looked right back at you.  

“You’ve had headphones this whole time?” Was all you could think to say. 

“Everyone has headphones.” He shrugged leaning against his door frame. 

You wanted to think of something snappy to say back, but your tongue felt fat in your mouth. You had never seen him like this before, completely undone, hair mussed, body relaxed in place of his rigid posture, clearly exhausted enough that bothering you would be too much energy. 

“Your friends leave?” He asked, peeking down the hallway past you. 

“Mmhm. Right on time.” You pointed to your wrist where a watch would be.

To your surprise a low chuckle emanated from his chest. It was warm and hearty and genuine. The sound tugged at your stomach. No -- lower than that. Maybe it was the wine, or your friend's insistence on his beauty that made him have this effect on you suddenly. 

“Sounded like a good party.” His voice mimicked his earlier clipped irritation but it felt less authentic this time, as though he were playing a part. 

“It was.” You smile already nostalgic for the company of your friends, their warm energy, “You could come to the next one, you know. We don’t actually have to not like each other.”

Nanami’s head cocked to the side a bit, dark amber eyes crinkling in confusion, “I don’t not like you.” 

You almost laughed out loud, to think that he could pretend that this whole time he has just been being neighborly? 

“Right. Because badgering people every other week for three months over petty shit is something you do to people you like.” 

Nanami made a small clicking sound, “There’s just…Rules. It’s not personal, you’re just loud and other people live here. I don’t not like you!”

“I’m not loud!” You shouted, which did not help your argument, “You’re just uptight.” 

“I’m not uptight! There are rules, both in this apartment and just socially! Who blasts music at eight am on a sunday?” Nanami stepped closer to you, almost at the midway point between your apartment doors. 

“Who goes to the gym and comes back slamming doors at two in the morning? You don’t hear me complaining about that, even though it happens every night.” You matched his advance, standing at the equivalent point to wear your living room wall would meet his inside of your apartment, “Some people are trying to sleep.” 

Nanami couldn’t stop the words before they spilled out, he leaned his head down to you venomously, “Doesn’t sound like a lot of sleeping to me.” 

Your eyes flew open, your chest caved and your throat knotted. You searched desperately for another meaning, scrambling your brain for recent late night annoyances he could be referring to, but you knew. And he knew too. Shames burned your cheeks, you felt so exposed. 

“You’ve been listening to me?” You gasped, “What are you, some kind of pervert?”

“Pervert?” Nanami gaped at you, “Our bedrooms share a wall, I’m not staying up late to listen to your little audio drama. You're whimpering practically loud enough for everyone on the street to hear.”

You flushed deeper, cheeks practically on fire, “y-you should have said something.” 

Nanami sighed, “I’ve been trying!” 

You started to put things together. His flushed, nervous expression whenever you ran into each other in the mail room or the hallway. The increasingly sterile way he spoke to you about the noise. This whole time he had heard you…intimately…and tried to tell you as discreetly as he could. A bit too discreetly. 

You buried your face in your hands, “Fuck. I’m so embarrassed.” 

Nanami’s gut twisted at your distress. This was the exact situation he wanted to avoid, he didn’t want to embarrass you, he didn’t even want to tell you if he didn’t have to. For the first time in this whole mess, he touched you. He reached out and gripped your shoulder lightly. The heat of his palm warmed your clammy, shame soaked skin. 

“Don’t be embarrassed. It’s…personal and I understand that, but it’s not anything to be embarrassed about.” He attempted to soothe you, his thumb experimenting with small strokes. 

You looked up at him, swallowing down the lump in your throat, “I never hear you…do that. You probably think I'm some weird sex freak.” 

A soft rosy blush came over his nose and cheeks. 

He decided to try and level the vulnerability, “I-uh…usually…do that… in the shower.” 

Suddenly his hand on your shoulder felt hot and heavy, he wasn't sure if he should remove it or if that would send the wrong message. What message was he hoping to send? This had suddenly become loaded and confusing. 

You nodded in response, feeling a bit better now that he had exposed part of himself to you. You couldn't keep your mind from picturing him  breathing hard in a steam filled shower, his head falling back in pleasure, hand running down his body to pump his-----

Fuck!

“I don’t think you’re a weird sex freak.” Nanami offered. 

“Thanks.” You let out a small laugh.

You looked up at him, catching his teak wood eyes. Long, dark lashes encircled them, a light dusting of freckles resting atop his chiseled cheekbones. Shapely, rose hued lips were parted slightly as he looked down at you. The air between the two of you became thick and sticky. He was curved over you slightly, maybe even subconsciously. 

“Can I ask you something?” He whispered, just barely loud enough to hear. 

“About…that?” 

He nodded. 

You nodded. 

Nanami swallowed, eyes scanning over your lips, “I haven’t…heard anyone else…with you.”

You waited a moment, “That isn’t a question.” 

“You sound, sometimes, like you might…want some help.” Nanami leaned in closer, his eyes flicking from your lips to your eyes, “Do you?”

Your breath left you, your voice had long abandoned you, you could only try desperately to parse out how you had gotten here. He waited patiently for an answer, suddenly suave and confident. He had always been self assured, you just assumed it was arrogant entitlement. It never occurred to you that he could be so charming, so flirtatious. He knew what he was offering, you knew what this would mean. The instances of rigidity morphed in your memory into a heated chase, reaching its end here and now. You had been caught. 

Finally, you nodded your head, “Yes.” 

He closed the distance between you, pressing his hot lips to yours in an instant. The hand from your shoulder moved to the back of your neck, pulling your chest against his, as the other arms snaked around your waist. After the initial moment of shock, you moved your arms around him to grip his rippling back. The first kiss is long, passionate and deep, his arms feel so strong around you, you can feel the curves and cuts of muscles that you hadn't even considered. He pulls away only for a second to move his head to the side and realign himself to give you a hot, fevered open mouthed kiss, sliding his tongue between your lips and massaging it against yours. You felt dizzy, gripping him tighter, for stability of course, you move your hands up his back and brush your fingers against the cropped undercut at the nape of his neck. He let out a low moan, almost like a purr, into your mouth. You couldn’t help but smile a bit, testing it again and pulling another throaty sound from him. You pulled your lips away momentarily. 

“I see why you need the shower.” You tease.

He nods against your forehead, catching his breath. You capture him in another kiss, leading him clumsily back to your apartment door, struggling with the knob a bit before he reaches around your hip to turn it for you and push inside, using his foot to swing the door shut behind him. Leaning back against your front door, he pulls you close to him once again, holding your body close to his, feeling the heat and weight of you in his arms. The way your apartment smells, like food and candles, earthy scented; sandalwood, laurel, magnolia. The dim, warm secondary lighting. He absorbs it all. It's so, you. 

Your tongue is moving against his now, and he finds himself being kissed as much as he is kissing. He likes how active it is, no part of you feels not focused on him at this moment and he's so grateful. You lead him back to your bedroom, exactly where his own would be on the other side. He lets his hand travel down your back, feeling down to your waist and over your hips, experimentally gripping the flesh there. Fuck, when you werent annoying the life force out of him, you were so gorgeous. A beautiful, full, woman’s body, confident movements, alluring in every sense of the word. Your bedroom was the same as his, no shock there, still just slightly too small to comfortably house a king bed, which he cursed himself for squeezing in. You had a queen, a perfect size, the window on the side wall had sheer cream colored curtains allowing moonlight to coat the room in a magic, blue glow. You had pulled away from him, doing some light mood setting, lighting a bedside candle, brushing discarded clothes and a book from your bed. He recognized the cover of your book, he had read it too last year. 

“She dumps the creepy coworker guy and goes back to working at another store. It’s incredibly cathartic. A shame you’ll miss out on it.” He runs his spine down the copy of your book on your bed, lifting it and flipping through a few pages, a devious smile itching the corners of his lips. 

You look at him, eyebrows raised in alarm. 

Nanami shrugged, “you ruined my movie. I ruin your book’s ending. Good read though.” 

To his surprise, you laughed through a wide smile, “It is a good read, especially the second time.” 

He laughed and shook his head. It was maybe the first time you had seen him actually smile, warm and easy. The just starting lines on his face extending around his mouth in little arches. He really was radiant, sharp features highlighted by the dream like light of the bedroom, blues and amber licking shadows over his face as the firelight moves. The laughter fades and you both look into one another. He looks over your features, lips swollen from his kiss, your eyes meeting his in a trusting, conspiratorial gaze. He feels his lips twitch again into a smile, and steps towards you. 

“You’re so beautiful.” He cups your face, tenderly, his other hand circling your waist as he brings you to his lips. 

The kiss has morphed into something deeper, kinder, less fevered, more focused and somehow even more passionate. When his tongue enters your mouth its not pushed or pressed, it slides languidly and easily against your own. As a polyglot’s tongue drips words, his drips kisses, sensuality. Your hands find the hem of his sweatshirt, slipping underneath, feeling the hardness of toned muscle and bone underneath. You did hear him return from the gym at god awful hours, it makes sense that he has something to show for it. Nanami hisses as you slide your hands around his hips to his back, moving up further, feeling every valley and peak of his hard work. Spurred by your action, he mirrors you, moving his hand under your shirt. Instead of following your lead, he opts to go for the front, gliding his hand up your abdomen and cupping your breast in his hand over your bra. He gives it a small squeeze, making you squeak. Another throaty hum comes from his chest. 

He guides you with his hips, not breaking the kiss just yet to seat you on the bed, with him stood between your legs. Encouraged by your pawing at his torso, he breaks from your lips to remove his sweatshirt, revealing rows of carefully built abdominal muscles, as you had felt already. What you didn't expect was the melange of scars in various stages of healing across his chest, stomach, and shoulders. Some white and flat against the surface, some pink and recessed still healing themselves. You couldn't help the small gasp you sucked in at the sight. 

What the hell happened to him? Or was it still happening to him?

“It's just skin, grows right back after enough time.” Nanami looked down at himself, following your eyeline across his body. 

You sat up further, carefully moving your hand over his toned stomach, across a particularly large, although healed line on his side. 

“Seriously, it’s--” Nanami started but you cut him off by removing your own shirt, pointing to a scar on the lower right side of your stomach, above your hip bone. 

“Appendectomy.” You smile at him wickedly, “You’re not so tough.”  

Nanami can’t help but chuckle, rolling his eyes and climbing over you onto the bed. 

“I didn’t realize I was in the bed of such a badass.” one of his big hands moves over your barely scarred hip, then up your side. 

You moan and arch up at his touch trying to control your shaking breath, “m-mhm, I’m very b-bad a-a…”

Another moan consumes your sentence as he kisses the side of your neck. Taking his time to suck and lick at the soft skin from your shoulder to behind your ear. You make no effort to hide how good it makes you feel, squeezing his large, tight bicep and rocking against him, head lolling to the side. 

“That’s right, you are very bad.” Nanami bites lightly at your jugular point. 

You whimper against him, his teeth on your neck setting your body ablaze. You nod. 

“You’ve been such a bad girl, whimpering just like that all night while i'm trying to sleep. Pretending you don’t know I can hear you.” The dirty words drip off of him like honey directly into your waiting mouth. 

He has moved to hover completely over you, one hand on your thigh, pulling it around his hip, leaning on the other crooked near your head. You can feel his hips against yours, even through his pants you can feel how hard he has become. He can certainly feel how hot and wet you are becoming, you pray that your panties and pants are helping you maintain some kind of decency. That prayer goes unanswered as Nanami moves his hand from your thigh to between your hot writhing bodies, cupping your sex. 

“Is this what you need, baby? You need someone to help you feel good?” He whispers into your ear, one finger starting to move up and down your clothed slit. 

You nod before you can speak. 

“Ask me. Ask for my help, baby.” He grunts against you, you can no longer feel his erection pressed against you, but you can hear his voice becoming strained and rougher, indicating his own resolve has wavered as much as yours has. 

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him back to your lips and plead into a kiss. 

“Please, please Nanami, please help me.” The kiss is sloppy and wet, saliva and sweat spilling between desperate lips. 

“Kento, please. When I’m fucking you, please use my first name.” He snakes an arm between your body and the mattress and removes your bra, moving down your body with hot, wet kisses. 

You arch up again, the eroticism of being undressed by him titillating your sense beyond your imagination. He latches onto one of your hard nipples, swirling his tongue around the sensitive flesh, dark eyes watching closely for your reactions. 

“Kento…oh Kento.” You try the name out, it fits perfectly in your mouth, tastes like honey when you speak it.

It was like he was studying you, gauging reactions and preferences in fractions of a second that other partners had been too hurried to discover. You returned your hands to his hair, threading your fingers and his blonde strands together. He bit and sucked and kissed and lapped at your breasts, giving each one equal, focused attention, squeezing them together and separately like he could never get enough. Finally he detached, a string of saliva connecting him to your skin. His eyes flicked up at you, catching his breath and moving down your body further, his hands moving over the waistband of your pants. Your breath hitched up in anticipation, your bottom lip clamped between your teeth. He met your eyes and searched for any sign of hesitation, if he were to allow his mind to process what was happening he might have stopped himself, citing how messy it could be to be involved in a sexual tet-a-tet with his next door neighbor, perhaps you were doing exactly that. 

But you moved your hand over the side of his face, brushing a few strands of hair off his forehead, smiling sweetly. 

“Please Kento…I need your help,” your voice was so sweet and so soft as you pleaded with him, “....please.” 

He kisses underneath your navel and slides your pants off of your legs, discarding them onto your bedroom floor. He took the moment of readjustment to remove his own pants, leaving both of you in only your underwear. He moved back in between your legs, he could practically see through your flimsy white panties, wetness having made the fabric dark and molded to your skin. He could see the curve of your labia, where they separated, the inner folds hidden but begging for him. Wetness has spread to your thighs, making your skin glisten and sparkle. He looped his thumbs into the band of your panties and slipped them off, joining the mess of clothes already on the floor. Now bare before him, he could feel himself drooling at the sight of you spread out on your bed. Just as he had imagined you, no. No, much better than he could have imagined. Soft, full body, marks blooming on your skin from his kiss, chest heaving and jiggling in turn as you pant for him. Between your legs a perfect oasis of petals waiting for him to part and indulge himself. 

“...stop staring..” Your cheeks burned as he sat back taking you in. 

Nanami leaned down, lips nearly brushing your mound, “I’m admiring.”

You open your mouth to say something sassy but he licks up your slit, silencing you. He smiles a cocky smile at you and does it again, this time taking even more time to reach the top. 

He’s fucked. He knows it from the first taste. He has always had a proclivity and a preference for eating pussy, enjoyed and indulged in the tastes of many women, but none like this. None that have brought him into a haze with a single taste. He dives further, separating your outer lips with two v-ed fingers, showing him the pearl of your clit and your drooling hole. He experiments with pushing his tongue into you, hearing and gauging your moans. It feels good, so good, but he knows he can do more. Feeding his tongue into you once more before he flattens it against you and laps up to your clit again and again. Your hips buck up at that, one of his big hands presses down on your stomach, keeping you in place. He swirls his devil’s tongue around your clit again and again in an agonizing whirlpool before sucking hard at the swollen bud. You can't contain the cries and whimpers spilling from you, you try to move against his hand, you try to pull at his hair to detach him from you, offering you a moment to catch your breath but he doesn't move an inch. He’s a messy eater, chin and nose dripping just as much as his mouth. He’s a loud eater too, moaning at your taste, at the sound of you writhing for him, grunting as his hips rut against your mattress unwittingly. 

“K-kento, I--I think I…” You struggle to string together cohesive words but the fevered lapping between your legs keeps you stammering. 

“Go ahead, baby. Cum on my tongue.” Nanami’s voice was low and gravely, full of need and desperation of his own. 

But this was different, there was a tightness in your abdomen that was unfamiliar, you were confused and panting, worried that something else may happen. 

“W-wait, I--” You tried to move yourself onto your elbows just as Nanami pressed further down on your stomach. 

Before you knew it you were cumming, squirting into his mouth, onto your sheets. You cried out in one long pleasure filled scream, partially his name, partially just exaltation. Nanami drinks from you like a holy well, reverent and indulgent all at once. As though he may never taste you again. FInally he lets you push him off of your twitching sex. His face is soaked, he licks his lips, fingers too, anything that may carry some of your release. You watch him with hazy, drunken eyes. Sat back on his heels, coming out of his own cloud of pleasure, he watches you come back to your body. You look beautiful, panting on your back for him. He leans over you again and kisses your lips softly, then deeper, and deeper still. His tongue tastes like you, your hands are quick to pull his hips to yours. 

“Think you can go again?” Kento huffs out as your grind against his clothed crotch, he can feel the wetness of your climax seeping into his boxers, commingling with his own leaking anticipation. 

“I need it. Please fuck me, Kento.” You have no room for coyness or pride anymore, you have only room for him. 

He nods, burying his head in your neck and removing his boxers with your frantic help. You feel his hard length freed against your thigh. He’s bigger than you imagined, thick and leaking already. You wanted to taste the beading precum, feel the heat and weight of him in your mouth, but you would have to find another time because Nanami was just as desperate to be inside of you as you were to be filled by him. He lined himself up with your begging hole, not yet pushing inside. He looks into your eyes before kissing you, hard and deep, no barriers, no holding back, as he pushes into you. He’s thicker than you even thought, the stretch burning as you arch up into him, whimpering. 

“Take it all baby. I know, I know, just a bit more. You can take it.” He soothes against your lips, thrusting further.

You let out a small, cracked cry as he continues, pressing kisses to your neck. You rake your nails across his hip, desperate for something to cling to. You’re grateful for your surprisingly wet climax earlier, the lubrication helping to ease the insertion. When he finally bottoms out, and you feel his hips flush against yours, he stills. His tip is kissing your cervix, he's trembling above you as he too struggles to adjust to the tight fit. 

“You feel so fucking good, you’re so tight, so fucking wet for me.” He mutters against your neck, your jaw, anywhere he can find to kiss. 

“Fuuuuuuck, Kento.” Your pain finally gives way to pleasure. 

Just in time for him to pull his hips back slightly and thrust into you further. Both of you moan into the silence of the bedroom, as he repeats this over and over. Setting a medium pace of intense thrusts deep inside of you. You're squeezing him tighter and tighter. 

“Please baby, relax a bit. I can’t move much more.” Nanami begs, moving one hand to your clit and circling it gently, attempting to extend your pleasure. 

You try to obey, taking a deep breath and allowing him to make you feel good, as he promised. You release some tension and find his pace more languid and fluid, assisted by his careful thumbing of your clit. Your hands move up and grip the pillow behind you as he increases his pace, pumping into you faster and faster by just a deep. A dance begins with your two bodies, moving in sync, maximizing the joint pleasure. 

“Fuck! Ah, baby. Yes!”

“Oh! Kento, Kento! Yes!! Right there, fuck!”

“There? You like that? Of course you do, bad girl”

“Uh huh, Fuck me like a bad girl, Kento! Fuck” 

Cries of pleasure fill the room, Kento luxuriates in the fact that his own bedroom, sitting empty, is just on the other side of the wall, where the headboard is smacking rhythmically. He brings you to another mind melting orgasm with his thumb and cock working in tandem. You whimper out praises of his skill, his size, his words, Him. Once you have caught yourself again from the freefall of climax, you sit up, pushing on his shoulders. He's too big of a man for you to really push, but he sees your desire and rolls the pair of you so that he is now on his back. Your thighs ache already from being spread so long, but not to be out fucked you hitch your hips up and down his length as fast and accurately as you can. His hands settle on your hips, squeezing bruises into the supple flesh. 

“Fuck baby.” His jaw hangs open as he watches you bounce and grind on him. 

Emboldened by the blush settling on his face, you take one of his large, calloused hands from your hip and slide it up your body and to your mouth, where you suck two of his fingers into your mouth. He shudders and a dangerously loud moan spills from his lips. You swirl your tongue around his thick fingers, tasting remnants of your climaxes, tasting his heated skin. Your hips never stop, riding him and sucking his fingers. You see him sweating beneath you, eyes rolling back, mouth agape, tongue threatening to flop out. The hand on your hip squeezes and pushes you down further on him. 

“Baby I-- Fuck!” Nananmi hoped he would catch it in time but you surprised him and he couldn’t contain himself in time. 

He holds you down on his pelvis as his cock twitches inside of you releasing a heavy load of white into you. You both let out long, whining moans as he fucks up into you desperately. After his long release has completed, Nanami pulls his fingers from your lips and pulls you down to kiss him, whimpering as your shifting squeezes his overstimulated cock. The kiss is sticky with cum and sweat and spit, and delicious all the same. The combined flavors of your endeavor sweeter than any wine, better than any meal you could have shared over a candle lit dinner. Nanami licks into your mouth, holding you flush against his chest as his cock begins to soften inside of you. You pull away enough to look at him, foreheads still pressed together. You smile, and he smiles back, so warm and relaxed. He takes in a breath to speak 

THUNK THUNK THUNK……….THUNK THUNK THUNK 

You two look at one another. The confusion apparent on both of your faces as the knocking continues. You pull off of him, already mourning the feeling of his cock no longer inside of you. Nanami is ready to kill whoever is on the other side of the door for pulling him away from your tight, wet heat. You wrap yourself in your bathrobe, and Kento pulls on his sweatpants. You both exit your bedroom, although you want to assure Nanami he doesn't have to come with you, it feels comforting to have him there when answering the door at night. If he weren't in the room with you, you would have assumed it was him at the door, but since it can’t be you are lost for who could be knocking so late. 

THUNK THUNK THUNK

You open the door to find Mrs. Sonomura, your neighbor across the hall. You often watched her collection of houseplants when she went out of town to visit her daughter. Her cheeks were dark pink and she was wearing her housecoat. You pulled the top of your robe tighter over your chest, praying your hair which you had not thought to fix wasn't too obvious.  

“Good Evening, Mrs. Sonomura. W-what can I do for you?”

She took you in and flushed even deeper, “I-I heard shouting and I…well..”

You were mortified, knowing that any respect this woman had for you must have completely dissolved. Before she, or you, could speak, you felt a heavy hand clap over your shoulder and Nanami’s body came behind yours. He had donned his sweatshirt quickly at the sight of Mrs. Sonomura. 

“My apologies, Mrs. Sonomure. I came over to complain about how loud her party had been tonight and I suppose things got a bit heated. I apologize for the yelling, we’re trying to find a way to be more….neighborly.” He looked straight at Mrs. Sonomura, smiling a charming smile, all while squeezing your shoulder. 

Mrs. Sonomura nodded hurriedly, seemingly happy to take such an obvious lie in place of the uncomfortable truth. 

“Well, I trust the two of you can work it out with the front office. Please keep it down after quiet hours.”

You nodded, “So sorry, Mrs. Sonomura. It won't happen again, Goodnight.”

You waved and watched her enter her apartment before shutting the door to your own. Nanami cocked his head down at you. 

“Won't happen again, huh?” He teased. 

“Oh shut up. We should be careful letting our ‘arguments’ get too loud again.” you sighed out, just relieved to have avoided the complete mortification of your kind, older neighbor thinking you're a slut, “Those walls really are thin.” 

Nanami wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in to kiss the top of your head. You hugged him, pressing your face into his chest. 

“You should probably spend the night.” You turned your face to the side, pressing your cheek against him as you spoke, “I’d hate for something to happen to you taking the train this late.”

Nanami laughed, you could hear it resonate from his chest, “That’s a good point. I’d hate to walk home in this weather.” 

The pair of you smiled before you led him back into your bedroom to sleep. 

OKAY YALL: I really hope you guys enjoyed this one, its been bouncing around in my head for a while and im so pleased with how it came out. Bonus Points if you know what movie//book got spoiled. Anyway, love you guys, and always i would love to know what you thought or if you have any ideas of your own! XX- Doodle.

[lostdreamr-blog1]

Pinky Promise 3

Part 1

Part 2

Part 4

Word count: 2K

Pairings: Jake Seresin X Reader

A/N: Round 3 of Pink Promise! I have a few more I want to put out, but if you have something you want to see in them let me know! It's been a lot of fun writing these. Thanks for reading!!

The two of you were sitting around Jake’s house eating takeout Chinese food. Some old movie was playing on the TV. For some reason Jake preferred the classics but you found them to be incredibly boring. It was often you found yourself in this same position, sprawled out on his couch, sitting in a comfortable silence as you watched another movie you couldn’t retell the plot of.

Which is why in that moment you chose to say, “I got into medical school.”

It was nearly comical watching him choke on the spoonful of rice. He sat up and looked over to you, still coughing up those last pieces. “I’m sorry. What did you just say?” The look he gave you was disbelief mixed with something else. Something you hadn’t seen before.

“I don’t think I stuttered.” You took a bite of an egg roll and waited for his mind to catch up.

“Medical school? For doctors?” You couldn’t help but smirk at his choice of questions. “Yes, like for doctors. I thought pilots were supposed to be smart?”

He shook his head and laughed, “When the hell did you have time for that?”

You finished off the egg roll and shrugged your shoulders, “What do you think I do all day while you’re at work?”

This path you took was one you had been on for a while Everyone saw you as the girl who parties, the one who doesn’t care about the outcome of her decisions. But it couldn’t be farther from the truth. And instead of showing people how wrong they were about you, you let them form their very low opinions. Pleasing people was never one of your strong points and a few judgmental comments weren’t going to tear you down.

Jake was clearly still processing things but paused the movie to give you his full attention. What he said next though, nearly made you cry right then and there.

“I am so proud of you, sweetheart. Holy crap you are going to be a doctor.” He got up and pulled you into a tight hug. It was then the look on his face made more sense. It was a look of pride, and one you hadn’t gotten before.

“Tell me all about it. Where are you going? When do you start?” His enthusiasm for this made you feel something that part of you was afraid to feel. This man was slowly becoming your best friend, which is why you pushed down all other feelings. No need to ruin a good thing.

“Well, I decided I wanted to stay close to home and was lucky enough to get into the University of California San Diego. My GPA was a little short of what they wanted, but I killed the interview. Something about your dad dying while fighting for his country tends to pull on heartstrings.”

Jake shook his head, “You did not pull that card.”

You waved a hand at him, “Please. I would be dumb not to. I also threw in about staying close to the base in case anything happened to Bradley. And that I might follow in the family footsteps one day.”

Jake’s head tilted at the last part. “You are not enlisting. I draw the line at that.”

You rolled your eyes at him, “Down tiger. All I meant was that I would want to work at a hospital close to base. The one all of you get sent to when something goes wrong.”

Relief was evident as he exhaled. “I don’t think the military could handle you anyway.”

It was true. You were never one to follow orders well. Plus having a third Bradshaw in the Navy would be too much for anyone.

You picked the remote back up and resumed the movie. While Jake thought this was a big deal, you were ready to get back to the movie night. You still had a few months until school started anyway.

The movie had been playing for a few minutes, but you could feel eyes on you every now and then. “Is something the matter?”

You glanced over to the man next to you and watched him shake his head. “Nothing. You just keep surprising me, that’s all.”

“Well, either turn your attention back to this movie or I’m putting something better on. Maybe something made in this decade.” A chuckle graced your ears and a quick, “Yes ma’am.”

It wasn’t until the credits were running that he said, “You better not forget about me when you become a big shot doctor.”

“I don’t think I could forget about you even if I tried.” And it was the truth. That one drunken call has led you to one of the best things in life.

“Pinky promise you won’t.” He had his signature smirk on full display as he held out his pinky for you to shake on. You happily gave him yours, thrilled that the Top Gun pilot has accepted this form of promises.

When he pulled away, he asked, “What made you want to become a doctor?” It was a simple question with a very loaded answer.

“When my mom was sick, it was just me and her most of the time. Bradley was off at the academy, something she wouldn’t tell him but absolutely hated. And I found myself wanting to give her some sort of joy to offset my brother’s choices. I made her a promise that I was going to graduate and get a degree in something. Something that would make a difference. It took a while to figure out what that was, but the look of pride on her face when I said medical school, I only wish I had a photo of that single moment.

“When there were days I questioned if I could do it or if I even still wanted to, I think back to that conversation and all doubts went out the window. There are very few things in life I want more than graduating from med school which is why I worked so hard to even get it.” Jake wiped a tear that I didn’t know had fallen.

“She would’ve been happy that you accomplished a goal while still holding onto yourself. That you had fun while doing it. Not too many people can find that balance which tells me you are going to do amazing. But if you ever need some sort of motivation or a simple distraction from school, you can call me anytime sweetheart.”

And just like that, you knew Jake Seresin was going to be in your life for as long as you could keep him.

After the incident a little while back, your brother made an effort to be more present in your everyday life. Which meant he was currently over at your apartment criticizing how you were making dinner.

“At any point you can either cook yourself or shut up.” Bradley held up his hands in surrender.

“All I’m saying is that you are going to burn the bottom of it if you don’t stir it more often.” You turned around from the food and pointed the utensil in your hand at him. Which just so happened to be a knife.

“Listen here bird boy. My house, my rules which means you can sit your judgmental ass down before I do something you can’t bounce back from. Last I checked you needed all ten fingers to fly.”

Again, he held up his hands and thankfully kept his mouth shut while you finished up. It wasn’t too much longer before you were dishing out food for the two of you and sitting down to eat it like a normal family. The two of you sat in silence while you ate, neither of you knowing what to say.

It was like this most nights. After your mom died Bradley threw himself into his work, leaving you to fend for yourself. It wasn’t anyone’s fault but the two of you grew apart as the years went on, leaving you to call your brother only when you needed help. This is what formed his new picture of you. He only saw you when you were at your worst.

But he was trying and the least you could do was meet him halfway.

“You know how you see me as careless and not at all organized with life?” You watched as your brother sighed and shook his head.

“We have gone over this. That is not how I see you. We just have different goals in life and that’s fine.” You waved him off.

“Right. Well, I am pleased to tell you that I’m not as big as a fuck up as you might think. I start med school in a few months.” Bradley dropped his spoon, sending food splattering on the counter.

You watched his facial expressions, looking or hoping for the one you got the other day from Jake. It wasn’t that you needed the validation from your brother, but it would be nice to see it for once.

“Med school? The school where you go to become a doctor?” You snorted at the similar question Jake had asked.

“What is with pilots and their lack of common sense. Yes, Bradley. The school for doctors.” You grabbed a napkin to wipe up the drops of food while he tried to form words.

“How?” You froze at that single word. It shouldn’t surprise you, the lack of faith this man had in you. But it still stung.

“The same way anyone gets in. Ace a test, get decent grades, and interview well. Not too hard when you think about it.” Which wasn’t exactly true. You had a lot of all-nighters, tears shed at the near impossible dream, and many bumps along the way. But you had to do it.

“Mom and dad would be proud of you.” Your eyes met his and you saw something different in them. It wasn’t the pride you were looking for but sadder. Like the weight of those words cut through him.

“I know. I was always trying to follow in your footsteps, even if I did take a longer path. But you know dad would’ve been ecstatic to see you wear the patch he tried so hard for. And mom, well mom would’ve eventually gotten over her fears of you being a pilot and saw how you were born for this. You know that, right?”

He cleared his throat and focused back on his food. “Anyone else know? It’s a pretty big deal.”

You picked up on the change of topic and said, “Your arch nemesis knows. Besides that, the friend list is pretty scarce these days.”

He slowly nodded his head, “You seem to spend a lot of time with him.”

“He’s a good friend. No need to look too far into it. I know the two of you have your issues, but he’s never given me a reason to question his intentions.”

Bradley hummed in response, but he didn’t fully believe you when it comes to only being friends. He’s seen the way Jake is at work, but with you he was completely different. You might not see it or are trying to ignore it, but he knew better.

“Are you and him still at each other’s throats?” Bradley rolled his eyes, “It’s not my fault he thinks he’s better than everyone else. He’s insufferable.”

You grabbed the finished plates and took them to the sink. “You know what would get under his skin? If you laughed at everything he said. I think that would rile him up good.”

Bradley squinted his eyes at you, “I thought the two of you were friends? Why would you tell me that?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “He is always listening to me complain about you. This way he can do it for once so it’s more even.”

Bradley threw his napkin at you and shook his head, “You’re a jerk, you know that?”

You threw him one of Jake’s signature smirks, “But I’m your jerk.”

Tag List: @rosiahills22 @sunlitsunflowers @dempy @mamaskillerqueen @luckyladycreator2 @atarmychick007 @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @topguncultleader @alilstressyandlotdepressy @avengers-fixation @chaoticcassidy @alldaysdreamers

[withahappyrefrain]

Summary: After teasing and disobeying Bob, you get your well deserved punishment.

Warning: Choking (yes this is the bicep choking fic), dash of size kink, lots of sex, oral (both receiving), language, mean dom Bob bc I'm a whore

"Darlin'. Behave." His voice is low, gravely in your ear. His fingers gently squeeze the flesh on your hip. To others, it looks nothing out of the ordinary. Just Bob, whispering sweet nothings to his partner.

If only they knew.

You let out a confused hum, tilting your head up to face his. The smile on your face is innocent, unassuming. The same smile that Jake swears was the key to him figuring out that you were married to Bob, stating that y'all looked like 'you just stepped out of a movie musical from the fifties'.

You didn't wear long dresses and skirts because you felt a kinship to a particular decade.

Rather, the extra fabric made it easier to cover yourself while Bob fucked you in his truck. 

Which is exactly what you wanted to be doing right now instead of watching Jake and Bradley argue over a round of pool.

Usually wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing your back into his chest did the trick. Apparently watching two grown men argue was too distracting.

So you began to move your hips, subtly grinding your ass against his crotch. Bob simply squeezed the flesh of your hips, sending a subtle reminder back.

That just wouldn't do.

God, you had been aching for him all day. And yes, it was a bit greedy to still want him after he gave up arriving on time tonight in order to eat you out. Truly, you had hoped the act would be enough until you two returned home. 

But he just looked so good in his white T Shirt. Bob was always handsome, but you loved it when he dressed casually. The soft fabric of his shirt hugged his muscles that he didn't show very often. It seemed that people often forget that Bob had to stay physically fit for his job, that he also had to do two hundred push ups.

You never forgot.

"Just a little bit longer, then we'll go home. Kay?" Bob whispered before pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

You nodded your head, despite being unsatisfied with his response. Stilling your body, it appeared that you understood his request.

Bob slung an arm around your shoulder, his hand near your breasts, but just out of reach. Your thighs clenched at the sight of his fingers, thinking about how earlier he had used them to make you come so hard your legs shook.

So your hips began their ministrations again. To onlookers, it looked as though you were simply swaying to the music playing from the old jukebox.

Bob knew the truth.

The grip he had on your hip tightened, his lips trailing from your forehead to your ear, "What did I just say?"

"I like this song," you stated, shrugging your shoulders. It was fun, seeing how far you could push him. Bob was pretty good at keeping up the facade, as if his cock wasn't growing erect underneath his jeans.

If things were up to you, his cock would be growing inside you while your back was pressed into the mattress.

Instead, you were still at the Hard Deck, Bob seemingly determined not to break.

"Y'know I'm gonna fuck you when we get home, right?" He whispered, pulling you closer to him, hoping the promise would be enough to satiate you. 

"I know," you said with a sweet smile. No one thought anything odd of your exchange because it looked like a normal conversation you and Bob were having. 

If only they knew. 

Your hand trailed up from his thigh to the back of his neck. His hair was soft, curling thanks to the hat he had on. That old trucker hat that he always wore when he wasn't in uniform. 

Bob let out a strangled grunt upon feeling you tug his hair. The sensation only lasted for a few seconds, your hand moving quickly back to his thigh. 

He was stunned, or so he appeared. 

His arm swiftly moved up your chest. Your eyes bulged upon feeling his bicep against your neck, restricting your airway. 

The action was brief, his bicep gone before anyone could see anything. But the sensation, how easy it was for him to choke you, how he didn't have to move his arm that much because the muscle was so big, remained in your brain, replaying over and over again, your thighs clenching. 

"That made you wet, didn't it?' He asked, chuckling. As if he just witnessed something amusing, rather than choking you in public. 

"Why don't you go check?" 

His stare burned into the back of your head. You didn't need to look, you knew his icy blue eyes were narrower, his nostrils flaring as he thought about what you just implied. 

"You heard me," you whispered, words smug. 

Bob's hand moved quickly. It wasn't a hard slap, but it made your eyes widened. Within seconds after slapping your face, that same hand was now gripping your chin, tilting it upwards so he could press a kiss to your lips. 

No one noticed. 

He had been so fast, that it looked like he was simply cupping your chin to kiss you. 

How sweet. 

No one noticed how his hand was trailing up your thighs, slipping under your skirt, moving towards the space in between your thighs. 

No one noticed how his eyes widened when his hand felt your soaked folds rather than cotton. 

“This whole night?” Bob asked. 

"Wanted to be ready for ya," was the only explanation you gave him. 

It was all you needed. 

Bob didn't let you get that far into the house. As soon as you reached the living room, your knees were on the carpet. The soft material brushed against your face as your legs were pried apart. 

"Ya think you're so big for that fucking stunt, don't you?" His hands were rough, grabbing your hips, pushing them towards his. 

A desperate moan fell from your lips upon feeling his clothed erection against your bare ass. 

"Should have fucked you right then and there. But you'd like that, wouldn't you?" You couldn't help but let out a needy whine upon hearing the sound of him unzipping his jeans.

"But you'd like that too much, wouldn’t ya?" His voice was sinful, low and gruff as he repeated himself, indicating he wanted a response. 

It took some time for Bob to be this comfortable around you. He didn't want to overstep any boundaries, and quite frankly, part of him was worried you wouldn't be into it. 

He was so wrong. 

For as much as you liked being in charge, there were times where you didn't want to make decisions, to think through every action. You wanted to be daring, to be reckless. 

Most of all, you wanted someone to reign you in, to call the shots. 

It worked out well, for Bob only had so much control in his daily life. He didn't call the shots, that was ultimately up to his pilot. He couldn't control what others did up in the air. 

But in this moment, he could control you. Could mold you to how he saw fit. He could make you cum over and over until your legs shook or edge you till tears ran down your face. 

He had options, choices. Something he reminded himself as he felt your bare cunt grinded itself against his denim covered crotch. 

His large hand found your ass, roughly grabbing your soft flesh, practically marveling at your curves. 

“Only want you Robby. Only you,” You pleaded, your voice music to Bob’s ears. 

“God, you’re so soft,” He murmured into your ear, his fingers finding their way to your soaked folds, “Want all of ya.”

You moaned as his fingers thrusted into you, finding that special spot with a precision and quickness that only Bob possessed. 

The sound of his name said in broken moans filled the air, mixing with the lewd sounds of your wetness as his fingers continued his ministrations, his thumb finding your clit. 

With anyone else, you’d be embarrassed by how desperate and loud you were. But god, his fingers were so thick and made you feel so fucking good. Bob knew your body like the back of his hand, every curve, every spot that drove you closer to the edge. 

And you’re so close, you need just a few more thrusts, a few more rough circles drawn on your clit and you would be seeing stars when you closed your eyes. 

But you didn’t deserve that. Not after what you just pulled. 

Which is why Bob responds to your tears and pleads when he pulls out with a harsh slap against your cunt. Pleasure laced pain courses through your body, your own fingers gripping the rug for purchase. 

“Don’t you dare. Turn around and show me how bad you want to come and maybe then I’ll think about it,” Bob ordered. His words caused your walls to clench around nothing. 

You maneuvered your body so that you were now looking up at him. His erection was straining against his clothes, his cock impossible to ignore. 

Quickly, your fingers found the buttons of his jeans, undoing them enough so you could easily pull down both his pants and boxers to his knees. 

Your mouth all but salivated at the sight of his cock, now resting against his abdomen. 

Bob had the prettiest cock you had ever seen. It was perfect, not too thick, curved ever so slightly, which allowed him to hit that spot with every thrust. 

You moaned as your lips touched the plush tip, tongue lapping up the precum that had formed. The vibrations sent shivers down Bob's spine, a deep grunt falling from his lips, his hands gripping your shoulders. 

He used his hands to gently guide your mouth further down his cock. Your cheeks hollowed out, trying to take in as much of him as you could. 

"Just like that sweetheart, f-fuck." Bob could maintain his composure thousands of feet up in the air, but as soon as your pretty mouth was wrapped around his cock, all bets were off. Your mouth was heaven and he loved how eager you were to show him you were able to take so much of him now. 

Drool began seeping down your chin as your head bobbed up and down, taking in as much as you comfortably could. 

His call sign never stood for baby on board. 

"Ya want me to come in your mouth? Or that pretty little pussy of yours?" His words made you want to rub your thighs together, an urge you were desperately fighting, not wanting to risk any more punishments. 

You looked up at Bob and he wished he could take a picture. Wide eyes and your mouth wrapped around his cock. You were beautiful and all his.

And boy, did Bob Floyd fucking love it. 

His fingers gripped your chin, guiding your head away from his cock, "I asked you a question darlin. You gonna give me an answer or do I need to teach you some manners again?" 

"I want you to come in my pussy. Please." 

Bob chuckled, "So polite for a dirty little girl. Turn around." 

And that was your punishment. He'll fuck you, he'll let you come, but you couldn't see him unless he let you. You couldn't kiss Bob unless he wanted to. 

He entered you swiftly, eliciting a near scream from you. 

"Robby!" 

No one had ever made you feel so good, so full before. Bob wasted no time, knowing you were prepared thanks to this afternoon. 

"Fuck, taking my cock s-so good, angel," his voice was shaky, his breath hot on your ear. Even if you were in trouble, he couldn't help but praise you. 

You tilted your head up, hoping he would act on pure instincts and kiss you. 

His lips ghosted over your face, cerulean eyes nearly all but closed as he reveled in the feeling of your warm cunt clenching around his cock. 

"S'big Robby, I-" 

"Shhh," he pressed his lips to your forehead, "You don't have to think. Just let me use that pretty little pussy of yours." 

He snaked an arm around your neck, tightening his grip so his bicep pressed against your throat. Now you had no choice but to look up at him. 

Broken, choked gasps filled your living room, swirling with the sounds of Bob's hips meeting yours. All you could do was take it, his cock repeatedly brushing against the spot that made your toes curl and your back arch in pleasure. 

Before you met Bob, you didn't think that spot even existed. 

"You gonna make a mess all over my cock? C'mon baby, you can do it," Bob flexed his bicep, further restricting your airflow. 

That one movement broke the dam. Your legs shook as white hot pleasure ran through your body. Bob, ever the doting husband, was quick to wrap an arm around your waist, holding you up while your orgasm took over your body. 

"Please don't stop," you're begging and you don't care. Every thrust prolongs your pleasure. All you can focus on, all you care about is your husband and how his cock is sending you to a pleasurable bliss. 

"S'pretty, want another one," Bob's chest was pressed against your back, his hand snaking to just above where you two connected. 

His fingers, calloused from years of work, felt heavenly on your clit. 

The pleasure was now rolling through you in waves. Each thrust, each swipe of your clit sent you reeling. If it weren't for the arm Bob and around your neck and collarbone, you weren't sure you'd be able to hold yourself up. 

"C'mon baby, so fucking pretty. Know you got another one in ya. Fuck, you feel so good. C-can't believe I get ya all to myself, love you s'much," his words were beginning to slur, as if he was drunk off of you. 

It was one of your favorite parts about having sex with Bob. When his words began to slur, when the only things he could intelligibly say were praises for you, the only thing he could focus on was you. 

Between Bob's praises and the circles his thumb was drawing on your clit, your eyes closed as pleasure took over your body again. You were screaming something, could feel your throat strain as you spoke. But what exactly it was, you couldn’t say. 

A large hand cradled the back of your head, the other maneuvering your legs so they were wrapped around a lithe waist.

When you opened your eyes, you found yourself lying on your bed, a pair of blue eyes staring back at you. 

"Hey darlin," Bob's voice was soft as his nose glided over your cheek, "Wanna keep going?" 

You weakly nodded, your hands reaching up to his hair. 

"Use your words darlin," Bob reminded, fucking his head down to press gentle kisses and nips across your neck. 

"Want," you whined, causing Bob to sink his teeth into your collarbone, "Want you to come inside me Robby! Please!" 

A low, guttural groan came from your husband, "Fuck, how did I get so lucky?" 

His mouth trailed down your body, leaving kisses all over. Your fingers flew to his shoulders when you felt his nose brush against your clit. 

"Robby, you said-" 

"I know," his breath was hot on your most intimate part, "But I just gotta taste ya first, okay?" 

Bob couldn't help it and you knew it too. Yes, he got to taste you earlier. He knew it was bad to be greedy, but your cunt was an exception. 

So he didn't feel bad when his tongue found your soaked folds, lapping up your arousal. It drove Bob wild, getting to taste you. He had to fight the urge to grind his hips against the comforter, wanting to come inside you. 

Your fingers were threading themselves in his sun kissed hair, needing something to hold onto as he groaned against your cunt. 

"S'good," Bob moaned, sending vibrations all along your body. Wanting to keep you ready for him, he thrusted a finger inside you. 

"Robby!" 

Bob simply smirked, knowing your walls could feel the cool, smooth metal of his wedding band. He continues making languid thrusts against that spongy spot, the one that he knows drives you wild, makes your legs shake. 

Besides, you were still being punished. You wanted to come so badly tonight, so Bob was going to make you come.

Over and over again. 

Your back arched as his tongue continued to lap at your clit, sensitivity surging through you. 

While your release came in a smaller wave this round, it was still intense. Your fingers gripped the soft strands of Bob's hair, hips jerking upwards in a shameless attempt to get more of Bob's mouth. 

"What's wrong? Thought ya wanted my cock darlin," Bob smirked when he pulled away. 

It was impressive how after five years he could still take you by surprise. You open your eyes, his words making you want to sit up. 

Instead, your husband's lips crashed onto yours, his large hands pushing you back down to the mattress. 

"Asked ya a question darlin. Gonna give me an answer?" 

Two could play the game. 

Your fingers gripped his hair, nails brushing against his scalp as you tugged on the locks, pulling his head back. 

"You gonna fuck me?" 

You could only place a few love bites on his neck before you were back on your knees, face against the pillow. 

"When did you get so bold?" The rural drawl laced his deep voice, his breath hot on your neck. 

"Since you stopped fucking me." That was the final straw. Bob quickly lined his cock to your entrance and thrusted in without a warning, sending you practically reeling. 

"Fuck Bob!" 

"That's what I'm trying t'do," he snarled, his hips quickly meeting yours. 

Any smartass comment died in your throat when Bob's bicep pressed against your neck. God, it was easy to forget how big and strong he was. He tried to hide it, tried to make himself small, make himself blend in by hunching over, by not taking up as much space. 

Which was why you loved it when he displayed his strength. He didn't have to flex much, if at all, to have the muscle against your throat, restricting your airway. 

"Can tell how much ya love that from the way you're clenching me so tight." 

You could only let out a strangled hum of agreement, too busy focused on how fucking full you felt every time he bottomed out. 

Bob knew you were getting close. He could tell by the way your breath quickened, your walls clenching around his cock, not wanting it to leave. 

Bob was also very close. Had been for quite a while. But he was raised to be a gentleman and you deserved to come several times before he did. 

His free hand trailed down to where you two connected. Just a little more attention to your clit and Bob would have you right where he desperately needed you. 

All you could do was take his cock, take in the scent of eucalyptus that surrounded him, mixed with the sweat that came from his hard work. 

"M'so close," you weakly groaned, fingers finding purchase in your comforter. 

"I know, just a little more. You can wait for me, I know ya can. Fuck I'm so lucky, married to ya. Ya gonna take it all too, aren't ya? Fuck, I love ya so fucking much." 

He released the grip he had on your throat, turning your head so he could capture your lips once more. 

That was what sent you reeling. That's what made you see galaxies when you closed your eyes. The only thing you could focus on was how good he felt, fucking you, coming inside of you, filling you up with everything he had. 

For what seemed like ages, you two were frozen in place, trying to catch your breath. 

"Darlin, I'm gonna pull out now, 'kay?" Bob finally said, gently pressing a handkerchief to where you two were connected. 

"Can we shower after this?" You mumbled. 

Bob pressed a kiss to your shoulder, "Course we can." 

"With the shower steamer?" 

Bob chuckled, "The rosemary one, right?" 

"Love ya Robby." 

"I love you too darlin'."

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@lewmagoo @ohtobeleah @sometimesanalice @cumholland @chxosunbound @callsignspark @dissonannce @yanna-banana @lovinglyeternal @cherrycola27 @lostinthefandoms11 @rhettabbotts @sebsxphia @hangmanapologist @ryebecca @bobfloydsbabe @laracrofted @mothdruid @delopsia

[poorly-written-fiction]

a little bit too much - logan howlett x fem!reader

A/N: i saw @journal3sposts post about logan with his young, tipsy, hypersexual little girlfriend who can't keep her hands to herself in the car. the post spoke to me on a very deep, emotional level. so i threw this fic together. it doesn't actually end in smut, i do have some minor discomfort writing dubious consent content, mostly because i don't want to make anyone else uncomfortable. but if this is received well and i don't get bricks theown at me i will write something properly spicy. this is also the first piece of writing i'm posting publicly in 10 years so please have some patience with me. also despite being 22 years old and being a casual alcohol drinker, i do not drink at bars, so my idea of going to bars is based solely on the experiences of others + what i've seen in movies and tv shows. apologies, i'm sorry i'm lame.

tags: not quite smut, but very suggestive (18+, MDNI), alcohol consumption (reader is 21+), age gap (legal, but let's be honest, every relationship with logan is an age gap relationship) fem!reader (no specific descriptions of appearance), reader is handsy, logan is a little more responsible, some spelling/grammar errors probably i'm too tired to check

Logan loved taking Y/N to bars. She was fun without alcohol, but after a few drinks she was truly a sight. Logan would joke that she kept him young with her shenanigans. She would drink and dance, and flirt - oh good lord, she would flirt. She would run her hands up and down his arms, run her fingers through his hair, any excuse she had to touch Logan, she'd take it. She'd take a shot, then kiss him immediately after - or kiss him right after he took a drink of his own drink. Usually it was beer, but he occasionally got whiskey when he was in the mood for it.

One particular night, Logan and Y/N were at a bar playing a game at one of the billiards tables. It wasn't a grimy place, but definitely not one of the nicest places either of them had gone to. It was comfortable enough - the music didn't play too loud and the drinks were good, and strong. Logan sipped a glass of whiskey, while Y/N tried whatever the bartender had suggested when she asked for a recommendation. That was another thing Logan liked about her, she would try almost anything at least once. After a drink of her own, a celebratory shot for winning the game, and a few sips she had snuck from Logan's glass, she was well on her way to stumbling a little more when she walked. She clung to Logan like a crutch, and he wrapped his arm around her waist, holding her close to him so she wouldn't fall or wander too far. Y/N grabbed Logan by the collar of his flannel shirt and pulled him down into a kiss. A long, hard, meaningful kiss. There was never any doubts that they loved each other, but they don't call alcohol "liquid truth" for nothing.

"We better get you home, darlin'." Logan paid the tab and scooped up Y/N, carrying her bridal style to the old truck. "Can you grab the door for me, princess?" Y/N pulled the handle, and Logan got her settled inside, pressing a kiss to her temple when he buckled her seatbelt. When he made sure she was secure, he shut the door and made his way over the driver's side. He hopped in, turned the key, and started back for home.

The ride back was comfortably quiet. Not a lot of conversation, just the sounds of the road and some generic country song played inaudibly on the radio. Logan drove with one of his hands on Y/N's thigh, occasionally rubbing it with his thumb and smiling at her. She'd smile back, her head still feeling fuzzy from the outing, but she was in good hands, and she was happy. It didn't take long before they were stopped at a red light that held for just a little bit longer than some of the others, and Y/N slid one of her hands over Logan's chest.

He smiled, shaking his head, "What are you doing there, baby?"

Y/N just smiled back, mumbling something along the lines of, "I'm just feeling you. You're so handsome."

Logan smiled before leaning over and kissed his lover, her breath still smelling faintly of alcohol. It wasn't off-putting, just a subtle reminder that she wasn't completely sober. Y/N couldn't contain herself, moaning quietly into the kiss and running her hands down to his belt, fumbling with it. Logan put one of his hands over hers, moving them away gently.

"Babygirl, we can't do that right now," Logan pressed his forehead against hers, smiling apologetically. He couldn't deny that he didn't like the contact or the way Y/N would practically throw herself at him. But, he didn't want to take advantage - or feel like he was taking advantage - especially because she was so much younger than he was. Almost everyone Logan knew was younger than him, but Y/N almost made it too obvious that there was a significant age difference between the two. He didn't mind it too much, obviously because they had been dating for a while, but his moral compass still steered him away from fucking her while she was this intoxicated.

Y/N pouted, moving her hands back up to his chest, "What about when we get home? I want you so badly, Lo..."

He kissed her forehead, and rubbed her thigh gently, not with intention of teasing her, but instead as a way to soothe her. "You're not sober enough, darlin'. It wouldn't be right. If you feel up for it in the morning, we can try again."

"But it's okay, I love you, it would be okay." Y/N's head was just spinning with the idea of Logan touching her. He shook his head, gave her soft thigh a light squeeze, and the light turned green. Logan pressed on the gas, and continued his drive home.

"If you feel up for it in the morning, I'd be more than happy to give you what you want. For tonight, we need to get you into bed, doll."

========================================

A/N: thank you for reading, if you did! suggestions, questions, comments and concerns are always appreciated okay bye!

[moutheyes]

[translation] Nam Yoon-su interview with Vogue Korea

Original article link

(T/N: did this a bit quickly as it's been a busy week for me, apologies for any errors. once again i am but a longtime student doing this for practice and fun. there were some interesting bits in here about nam yoon-su's connection to go young and his experiences on set. i find his personality quite refreshing lol. also the pictures are gorgeous.)

No Pretense, Just the Truth: Nam Yoon-Su’s “Love in the Big City”

Oct. 20, 2024 | Son Gi-ho and Kim Na-rang

Today is Sunday, but weekends probably aren’t that special for actors, right?

If you start a job, you just keep going. That's when days start to lose significance.

You filmed Love in the Big City last winter and spring, are you working on something right now?

I rested for a bit after the surgery with my dad, and I’m preparing for a movie now.

You donated a kidney to your father this past June, have you recovered? Can you drink that coffee?

It’s okay as long as I don’t drink four cups a day. Smoking is the worst so I quit. 

You were appointed as the ambassador for the Life-Sharing Campaign. It seems like you experienced firsthand the value of organs and tissue.

I was interested in it before, so I searched up videos on YouTube. Obviously I didn’t know that I would end up donating my kidney. I could actually feel my body changing during the process. My skin became dull because the kidney couldn’t detoxify properly, and seeing people have trouble going to the bathroom gave me a lot to think about.

This will make a big difference in your life.

More than anything, it improved my relationship with my father. (laughs) There are three of us, all boys, and we didn’t get along well with him. But now we talk a lot.

Love in the Big City is based on the novel by Park Sang-young, and it’s widely recognized as a Booker Prize-nominated queer romance novel. Did you feel pressured by the genre?

I started modeling in my second year of high school (T/N: equivalent of junior year in NA), and there were a lot of queer staff members around, so I never felt that sense of difference. Everyone has their own world, right? I also had a childhood friend come out to me when they turned 20. We actually became closer after that.

How did you get the role?

I was contacted by the production company and met with the directors. There are four of them—Hur Jin-ho, Hong Ji-young, Son Tae-gyeom, and Kim Se-in—and I hadn’t met anyone before, so we needed time to get to know each other. Their directing styles are all different, but thankfully they all gave me the okay.

During the meeting, did they ask if you were okay with doing a queer romance?

Not at all. If I thought that way at all, even a little bit, the meeting wouldn’t have happened.

What kind of conversation did you have then?

They were unexpectedly curious about my hardships. Looking back on why we talked about that, though, I think it’s because I had to play Go Young from age 20 into his 30s. I had to show various emotions and character growth at all those different ages.

It seems like you’re right in the middle of that ten-plus year range for Go Young.

I’ll be 30 in three years. Episodes 1 and 2 tell the story of 20-year-old Go Young, but we shot episodes 3 and 4 first. It was better to film him in his mid-20s first. Director Hur Jin-ho made it comfortable for me while filming. It seemed like he placed a lot of importance on sound. Even after giving the okay, he would sit there with his eyes closed and just listen.

I’m interested to see how four different directors, working independently, will capture your image.

I haven’t seen the final edit yet, so I’m also curious and looking forward to it. I was only able to see the parts I later had to add narration for. Like the novel, there were a lot of parts I had to describe or explain.

Was there anything you had to keep in mind while doing the narration?

I couldn’t get caught up in the emotions and had to read everything in a similar manner, using a normal tone. That way it would be easier for the viewers. The emotions are already shown on screen, so if the narration was too forceful it would be hard to handle.

In an eight-episode show, you had different acting partners every two episodes (Lee Su-kyung, Kwon Hyuk, Na Hyun-woo, Jin Ho-eun, and Kim Won-joong). It must have felt like you were filming fragments of four separate works.

It was interesting because not only the directors, but the actors, staff, assistant directors, and producers all changed as well. It was a little difficult at first. On top of that, all the directors had different styles and wanted different things from me. I think that produced a more interesting result.

It must have been a big challenge for the actors.

Yes, it was a challenge. (laughs) One week it was one director, the next week it was another director, so I had to change my own approach every time. I learned a lot through that process.

Was there a wrap party for the entire production? (laughs)

Each team had their own gathering, but unfortunately we couldn’t do a big one.

While filming Today’s Webtoon, you said you were extremely sensitive because you wanted to do a good job. And because of that, you lost a lot of weight. How did you feel while filming this drama?

I’m fundamentally a sensitive person. Of course, I can handle it so I don't affect others. This time, my main focus was on showing the changes in Go Young’s expressions and speech as he got older. For example, he was more active in his relationships when he was younger, but as time passes you can see him slowing down. Also, he changes his hairstyle and fashion. But that’s also due to the directors having different preferences.

You started out as a model, so do you have any personal views about fashion?

Nope. (laughs) I go around wearing comfortable tracksuits.

Which of Go Young’s eras are you most drawn to?

While shooting episodes 3 and 4 with director Hur Jin-ho, there’s a scene where he goes running to the hospital after finding out his mother is sick. It was around the time when my father was ill, so I definitely felt a lot of empathy.

You were also having a hard time then.

Physically I was fine, but I couldn’t say the same about my heart. I became one with Go Young when he was in front of his sick mother. I was able to grasp the emotions, so we filmed those scenes without needing to rehearse. The emotions were captured really well, so we didn’t need any other scenes to explain the situation.

It must have been a strange feeling, having real-life sadness help with your acting.

To be honest, I just concentrated on filming the scene at the time and didn’t think about my father. Thinking about it later, I realized it was easy to express those feelings because of my connection with him.

How did you feel after filming that scene?

I don’t look back once it’s over. I just come right back to reality.

In a way, that’s a blessing. Some actors have to receive counseling to separate acting from real life.

You have to keep filming, right? You can’t keep clinging to just that one scene. Of course, the on-site staff takes care of you and asks when you want to film a scene where you need to immerse yourself in your feelings. That’s the degree of difficulty. But even if it’s an emotional scene, I brush it off when it’s over and go home.

Go Young is a lively and carefree character. What about you?

Even though Go Young is straightforward, there are still times when his heart aches. Although he expresses himself in his 20s to the point where it feels aggressive, he hides his feelings more as he gets older. I’m the kind of person who doesn’t talk a lot and hides my feelings, so I can be misunderstood. When I was a model, I was shy and cautious of my surroundings, and couldn’t even greet people properly. That changed when I started acting.

Now you seem very warm and comfortable with other people.

That’s only been true for a few years. The production company head even said I seemed awkward when we met, so they thought I wasn’t interested in the work. I’m more comfortable talking to others now, but of course, I don’t like forced situations.

Like what?

It’s often described as being “fox-like.” It’s better to be honest rather than pretend to like someone in order to look good.

The longer you see them, the better they will be.

That’s right. Most of the people I see on a personal basis are childhood friends from my neighborhood, but we can’t meet that often because they’re all busy with their social lives.

It seems like you got close to all of the actors in Love in the Big City since you’re all around the same age.

It was really fun on set. But I’m not the type to contact people that often; I don’t want to meet them unless it’s from the bottom of my heart.

Kim Won-joong, who also started as a model, said in an interview with Vogue Korea that you were really reliable and helped him out a lot.

He's a top model, but since this was his first time acting, he obviously wasn’t familiar with the process. Normally no one on set tells you anything in detail. I tried to make things comfortable by telling him about that kind of stuff. Not just comfortable for him, but also for me. I wanted both of us to do well.

There are a ton of skinship scenes. How did you want those to be seen?

First I got my teeth deep-cleaned and then I passed out mouthwash. (laughs) Male actors, rather than female actors, are recommended to gargle. I’d go, “Hyung, do you want to gargle?” and then we’d laugh at each other. Man or woman, I just want it to be seen as two people who love each other.

What was the hardest part for you?

Go Young has a bit of a daredevil streak, so he usually starts the skinship. There was a scene with eight actors that required over 300 takes. Each time I tried my best to make them comfortable, and it wasn’t as hard as I thought.

You seem pretty calm when you come across some kind of difficulty.

If I don’t deal with it today, I’ll have to do it tomorrow, so my belief is that I should just get it done. Other people tell me I don’t seem to get stressed out, but I think it just piles up silently. There are times when I’m fine and it’s a normal day, and then suddenly I feel it one night.

Even if you don’t realize it, your body will show symptoms of stress.

Sometimes I suffer from gastroesophageal reflux (GERD), but that’s my problem. I want to show everyone else a smiling image. 

I guess that’s why you smile all the time. Is it hard to keep smiling?

If I frown because I’m having a hard time, it’ll affect other people. Do no harm, right? It’s a kind of principle. A while back, I received a thank you text from one of the staff. It was long and said something like, “I’ve never contacted an actor before, but I was surprised because you finished everything with a smile even when things were difficult on set.”

Is that a recent moment where you were proud of yourself?

It’s more so the DMs I received from abroad thanking me for doing the show. There was one from a Brazilian person saying, “This drama is even more meaningful because gay marriage is illegal in our country, and I’ll be sure to watch it.” Of course, there are a lot of detractors. Go Young’s mom is a Christian, and I actually received a DM from a woman who is of a similar age that said, “Youngsu-ssi, I thought you were a good person but I’m disappointed in you.” But there has been a shift in the perception of queer people in Korea over the last 10-20 years, and it’ll continue changing in the future.

How did you feel after filming?

I felt strongly that we had made something together. We finished it while discussing how we could complement each other and making revisions. Also, there were fewer characters than in other productions, so the individual actors and staff could communicate more deeply. Although I was the one acting, I feel that the end result is something we achieved together.

Is there something you want to achieve before the end of the year?

I’m not good at setting goals. I used to make resolutions about how I should go about acting, but now I just work hard on every drama that comes to me. Rather than making plans for the future, the present is more important. This morning, I grated vegetables and then did some cleaning, and right now I’m focused on finishing up well with this photoshoot and interview.

[supernovafics]

making a mixtape for boyfriend!eddie

wc: 730

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“i don’t know if i should trust this since you titled it “awesome mix volume one.””

“shh, don’t make fun, or you’ll never get a volume two.” 

eddie nodded and smiled at you before overdramatically making a show of “zipping his lips shut,” which only made you laugh and roll your eyes.

over the past few months of you two dating, you fell into an almost weekly pattern where eddie would play new albums for you and always make you mixtapes as ways to introduce you to his favorite bands and artists; which made sense because he loved music. and maybe you didn’t like every single song he showed you, but you loved the happy smile he’d get on his face as he played you something that you hadn’t heard of and talked about a specific instrumental part or lyric of the song.  

you were a little different, you had other things that you’d drone on and on about— things that if it was anyone else eddie wouldn’t have necessarily found interesting, but just hearing you talk about it made it interesting to him. he could listen to you talk about your favorite book or some old movie you watched for forever. 

these little differences between you two were probably one of your favorite parts about your dynamic. 

things slightly changed last week— eddie wanted you to make him a mixtape. it was a request that slightly surprised you, but you of course did it anyway. 

“okay, so there’s not, like, one genre or whatever on this, it’s kinda a little bit of everything. just some songs i’ve liked for a while and more recently, and some remind me of you and us. i think i did, like, twelve songs. i can’t fully remember now–”

eddie stopped you mid-ramble with a kiss on the cheek. “just play it, sweetheart.”

you grabbed the tape from him and got up from his bed, placing it in the tape deck of his stereo and pressing play before settling back and sitting across from him. 

seconds later, the opening beats of sos by abba started playing and eddie smiled amusingly at you. “abba?”

“no questions or judgements until the end,” you told him seriously; well, as serious as you could with your boyfriend smiling at you. “just enjoy the music, munson.”

he nodded, a smile still on his face, as one of his hands started absentmindedly stroking your knee. you were wearing his hellfire t-shirt and a dark pair of his boxers; you always liked being in his clothes when you were spending the night at his place, and seeing you wear anything of his always made him fold. he would’ve been on you in an instant, kissing your lips and then finding that certain spot on your neck that always made you giggle, like he did most nights, if you two weren’t already doing this. 

when the song went from abba to sweet dreams by eurythmics, eddie wanted to say something teasing but he didn’t because he knew that he would only receive a playful scolding or eye roll from you in response.

he ended up liking the queen and tears for fears songs you put on the tape, but what he enjoyed the most was admiring you, watching as you bopped your head along to the beat or mumbled some of the lyrics. in all honesty, he barely paid attention to most of the songs playing, it was too hard. you looked too adorable and that was all he really wanted to focus on. 

he wanted to commit this entire moment to memory. 

the last song that played was another one by abba, gimme! gimme! gimme!, which felt like a full circle kind of moment, and you didn’t make any move to grab the tape once it stopped. 

“so, should i start working on volume two?” you asked playfully as you scooched closer to your boyfriend, letting your knees bump his and reaching out to grab one of his hands. 

he only leaned in and kissed you in response. it was slow and sweet and he practically pulled you into his lap in the process.

you smiled at him when you pulled back a bit to catch your breath. his hand was still cupping your cheek and your lips ghosted over his as you spoke. “i’ll just take that as a yes.” 

[herecomethatboi]

✨SFW alphabet with Ghostface✨

(if anyone wants other characters let me know

👉👈)

A: Affectionate (How affectionate are they? How do they show their affection?)

Danny loves PDA. Would have you around 24/7 of you would let him. He loves big gestures and would go out of his way to make you feel like royalty.

Danny made collage of the two of you (with the polaroid pictures he took), since the begining of your relationship for your one year anniversary.

B: Best thing about you (What they think is the best thing about you)

Your smile. No matter if it's crooked, if you have a gap between your teeth, if you have wrinkles. He. Doesn't. Care.

You're gorgeous, and your genuine smile is the highlight of his life. Everytime he sees it, he falls in love all over again.

C: Cuddle (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Danny will cling onto you like a koala, let him, otherwise he will whine. He loves softly caressing your back and shoulders while doing so.

He also will fall asleep wrapped around you while watching horror movies.

"He's seen worse gore" As he says.

D: Domestic (Do they wanna settle down)

He loves fun in his life, and he knows what his... "job" includes the possibility of getting caught.

Danny doesn't care, he's selfish in that part.

He loves you, and you have his soul and heart in the palm of your hand.

So, he wouldn't exactly consider a big wedding, never did, but he would proudly put a ring on your finger, or get matching necklaces, earrings, bracelets, whatever you fancy. Whatever it takes to make strangers know you and him belong together.

E: Ending (If they had to break up with their partner how would they do it)

Danny never told you about his "other job". So, he would feel confident that his secret is safe.

He would approach the break up based on how things between you two had been for the last few days, weeks, even months, years.

Danny would try to communicate, but he has anger issues, so, there could be yelling and slamming doors.

Not a pretty break up, that's for sure.

F: Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment, are they willing to get married)

As I mentioned before, no wedding, but rings? He loves them. Matching ones? Even better.

The best part about it is that he can easily hide it with his gloves, so the ring can stay on forever.

He wants to melt the ring onto his finger forever, but it would mess with mobility, so that has to wait until he's old.

G: Gentle (How gentle are they emotionally and physically)

Danny is an energy bomb. But there are days where he just wants to be soft, put on a movie and bask in your warmth.

He can be wild, but with you? He wouldn't even dare touch you, unless consent was given.

H: Hugs (Do they like hugs, what are their hugs like)

Danny LOVES hugs. He would randomly hug you out of the blue. Even if you two had a fight or a disagreement, he would just hug you quickly and leave you be, if you're not ready to talk.

He usually wraps his arms around you, however you're comfortable and lay his head against yours.

I: I love you (How fast do they say i love you)

We could say he's in love since the start, but is scared to actually say it out loud, since then it would become a reality.

He blurs it out when the two of you were baking and he just... He looked into your eyes and knew this was the right time.

J: Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when jealous)

Danny is obsessed. He would just smile and hold your arm or rest his palm on your ass (and squeez it, if the person doesn't get the memo).

He would plan a whole torture for that person, but if you take care of the problem he would fall on his knees at home and thank you repeatedly for choosing him over someone better.

You have to remind him sometimes he's more than enough, and wouldn't choose anyone else.

He's insecure uwu👉👈

K: Kisses (Where do they kiss you, what are they like, where do they like to be kissed?)

He loves kissing you on the lips.

If you have freckles, moles, scars, stretchmarks or visible veins that could make you a little bit insecure about your body, he would try to kiss the worries away.

You're worth than what you think, and he would remind you over and over again as long as he's alive.

L: Little ones (How good are they around kids?)

Hell nah. He adopted the Legion. Those are enough kids for him.

If you want one or more... Well... He's too anxious to be a father, especially with his "hobbies" and anger issues.

If you don't, well then please help him with Frank, that little shit gets on his nerves.

M: Mornings (How mornings are spent with them)

You wake up, he's cuddling you and not letting you go, until you tell him you have to pee. Then he makes you promise you'll return.

If you do, more cuddling and morning naps.

If not, he will find you, and drag you back to bed, then fall asleep on top of you.

N: Nights (How are nights spent with them)

He usually does a full 30 minute skincare routine that you may or may not join in on.

He makes sure to check himself out then check you out, call you his "one and only sexy bae".

Danny then flops on the bed and makes grabby hands toward you to join him.

O: Open (How quickly do they reveal things about themselves)

Danny spills every trauma, bad experience, relationships, friendships in the first 15 minutes of you two meeting.

He then would talk about different cameras, how they work, why they work like that, how the lenses can influense the quality of the pictures he takes.

A whole 2 hour rant about flat-earthers and stupid people.

You know, the usual.

P: Patience (Do they get angered easily?)

Yepp. But he's more patient with you, and you help him with his anger a lot. Even if you have anger issues as well, the two of you clash just the right way.

Danny, by your recommendation, went to therapy. Which helped a little.

He did choke the first one because he didn't like her judging some decisions he made.

"Accidents happen, sad :(" is the text he sent you after you sent him the news article about "the end of a well respected psychologist".

R: Remember (What's their favorite memory in your relationship)

The first time he's seen you laugh like crazy until you couldn't breathe. He too, was loosing oxygen from laughing so much, that he forgot what the Hell the two of you were laughing about.

S: Security (How protective are they?)

If he senses danger, he's as close to you as possible. He knows he can protect you, and knows that you can protect yourself as well. It's a team effort, to make sure both of you are safe.

He made you learn self-defence, how to hold a knife and stab/slash if you have to.

T: Try ( How much effort they put in)

Danny tries his best.

He himself might not be the best person, far from it actually, but he tries to make special events, celebrations just as special as you.

U: Ugly (ugly trait of theirs)

His anger issues. It can be messy.

He can be a little too much as well, but everytime you tell him to back off, he does without question.

V: Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks)

Danny doesn't care what others think how he looks, except you, and if you find him attractive then he has no care in the world.

He also has a whole routine to maintain his body and flawless skin, so he takes care of himself and actually loves how he looks.

W: Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Absolutely.

When the Entity took him, he felt excited, but alone and empty without you.

So the Entity spawned you there with being the only non-killer and non-killable person there. Why did I say it like that? Because you're not a survivor.

Entity-mama gave special treatment to her favourite pet, so it works out for her, Danny and you.

So, he literally can't function without you.

Y: Yuck (Something they wouldn't like in partner or in general)

If you point out his flaws everytime. Like his anger. He knows it's bad, don't mention it.

But you're not like that.

...

Right?

Z: Zzz (Their sleeping habits)

He could sleep through an atomic bombing.

Danny sometimes snores softly. Or murmur something about you smelling nice, like a love infused cheesecake.

...Don't ask.

[m00nh1gh]

Planet Girl

Han x Lee Know x fem reader

Han is ur bf and Minho is his best friend.

Contains: Masturbation, oral (m and f receiving), vaginal sex, degradation, praise, slapping, mentions of choking, teasing, spitting (porn with little to no plot).

Word count: 5.8k...

You were currently hanging out at your boyfriend's house, watching a movie. You were snuggled up to him under a big fluffy blanket and you had been cuddling like this for a while now.

It was hard for you to focus on the movie as it was boring and Jisung's phone was right up in your face, while he was texting his best friend Minho. 

You read the messages lazily, though quickly realizing he was coming over for another movie marathon. You didn't mind anyway, he was a chill guy and he could easily set a bright mood to anyone.

Jisung turned his phone off before throwing it somewhere on the couch and he gave you a kiss on your head. Once he was sure his phone was God knows where, he put his arm back around your waist, his thumb making circles on the fabric of his shirt (which you were wearing).

You stayed like this for a moment, until you heard an old man's voice yelling behind you.

You both screamed, definitely startled by the sound, also wondering if you were going to get killed tonight.

But no, as you turned around, you only saw Minho laughing his ass off. You heard Jisung sigh and he hit his best friend in the shoulder.

"That was pure evil!

- I just had to do it.

- You're unbelievable. What's up?"

As Minho made his way to the other couch, you three made conversation for a while. Nobody was paying attention to the movie that was playing, but when the credits started showing up you just turned the TV off. There was no way you'd stay watching movies for a few other hours.

"Is something wrong?

- I'm not watching any other movies for the next month," you dramatically sighed and laid back down, almost crushing Jisung under you.

"Get off of me!

- Why?

- You're taking way too much space on my couch.

- Minho, can I lay on you?

- Huh?

- What?

- Yeah, sure," he didn't seem bothered by your question, in contrary to Jisung, who had his mouth slightly opened and his brows were furrowed.

You patted your boyfriend's shoulder and kissed his cheek, sending him a closed mouth smile as you stood up, walking to Minho who was just watching the scene before his eyes.

You wrapped your arms around his neck before sitting on his lap, your legs were on the couch's armrest. You immediately smiled and laid your head on his shoulder when you felt him holding you.

"Bro, the fuck.

- Ji, come get your girlfriend.

- No, Ji, don't. Min's lap is way more comfortable than yours."

You knew what you were doing and Jisung did too, so you didn't have to worry about hurting his feelings. You both knew you were just horny and that was why you acted that way. As you both made long eye contact, none of you wanting to break it, the room suddenly fell silent and Minho just had the urge to know what was going on, feeling he was the only one not knowing.

"Is something going on?

- Are you up for a threesome?" Jisung asked, not taking his gaze away from yours.

"With who?

- Us," this time it was you answering. For a second, Minho forgot how to breathe and he thought about your suggestion while he tightened his hold around you.

"Sure," he simply said, not even having an ounce of emotion in his voice. 

If you two were both comfortable with it, why wouldn't he try? He had always thought having a threesome could be fun, so trying it out with his best friend and his best friend's girlfriend had to be the best people to do it with, as you knew each other very well and to be honest, he found the both of you pretty hot.

Minho didn't have the time to say or ask anything else, because you started planting little kisses along his jaw and his neck. Jisung stood up, also picking up his phone and he walked over to you two, giving a gentle squeeze to one of your thighs.

"I'll be waiting in the bedroom."

You nodded and waited for a kiss, he understood and gave you a quick one on the lips. As much as you wanted it to go on for longer, Jisung pulled away, gave you a wink and walked to his bedroom as he stated earlier.

You turned back to Minho, who was still holding you on his lap and he gave you a sweet smile, which clearly didn't match with the look in his eyes, but you couldn't decipher what it was.

"You sure you wanna do this?

- Are you?

- I'm more than sure. Jisung is, too. We've talked about this before, so no need to worry about doing anything wrong.

- Good," you felt him rub his hands on your hip, you felt how delicate they were and it gave you shivers, just as much as when Jisung did the same to you.

You slowly leaned in, unsure if it was okay for you to kiss him, but then right when you closed your eyes, you felt his lips on yours. You could tell he was as experienced as your boyfriend, he seemed highly relaxed as his hands kept travelling on your hip, then your thigh. His kiss was soft as first, then he gently bit your bottom lip and you let out a small whimper. He only scoffed and let you brush your tongue along his. Your arms made their way around his neck and you soon found yourself pulling him closer.

You didn't think he'd actually be into this threesome shit but his moves proved you wrong when he started tugging on the waistband of your shorts, teasing you and making you flustered. Right when you pulled away due to your confidence having completely went away, he planted kisses along your neck, his breath against your skin making you shiver. 

"Let's go to the bedroom," you managed to whisper, sliding your hands along his shoulders as your head tilted sideways to give his lips more space to cover.

He hummed in agreement, slowly pulled away and you took his hands as you stood up from your seat, making him follow your lead. Right when you stood in front of each other, it only took you a few seconds of eye contact before throwing yourself on him, making your lips connect once more but with even more hunger for each other than before. You were getting comfortable and it showed with every move you made on your way to the bedroom, in which Jisung was patiently waiting for you both.

Minho was the first one to enter the room, as he was walking backwards. You hadn't even realized he was the one leading you over to the bed before you both fell onto it, you landing on top of him.

You were still pretty much devouring each other, your hands were firmly holding onto his cheeks and your back arched while you slowly grinded on his lap. You then felt your hair being tossed to the side of your head, then hands going under your shirt and another pair of lips on your neck. You couldn't help but to pull away and let out a quiet moan when Jisung's hands found their way to your boobs and gently massaged them. His tongue against your neck made your skin go hot and Minho was now also exploring your whole body with his hands. You were at both their disposal and it made you need them even more.

Since your boyfriend was right behind you, it stopped you from moving your hips the same way you did before and you couldn't do anything to release the tension that was slowly becoming unbearable over time.

"Please just fuck me."

Jisung's lips left your neck at this resquest and you opened your eyes for the first time ever since you had landed on top of Minho. Your boyfriend's hands trailed down your upper body to stop on your hips and when you looked down, Minho was watching you with amusement. Although by only looking at his face you would've thought he was completely unphazed by this whole situation, his hard dick against your shorts betrayed his looks of relaxation.

"Just be patient, will you? Let us have some more fun first," Jisung said in a low voice, really close to your ear. You had the urge to do something - anything - to feel some friction, at least to feel closer to the both of them, but you stopped yourself from doing so. 

You could only whine at his response and Minho scoffed before lifting himself up so he would be face level with you. His hands were rested on your thighs right under Jisung's.

"How about we start with a little teasing, mmh? Wouldn't you like that?" You usually hated when people talked to you as if you were a little princess of some sort, but when Minho and Jisung did it, it made you incredibly horny. You wanted them to speak to you as if you were a mere object to them, or even just the most fragile woman ever. 

You wanted them to fully disrespect you, to call you names. No matter how embarrassed they would make you, it would only make you wetter and it made you ashamed to even think about it. 

But could you really control yourself when you're turned on? Absolutely not.

"No, just shove your dick in my mouth," you blurted out and they both immediately laughed at this.

"You're such a whore," Jisung stood next to you now, instead of behind you. "Come here."

You didn't wait to be asked twice and you were already on your feet in front of Jisung, right before being pushed back on the bed, but now you were the one laying on your back and Jisung was on top of you.

"You're not to decide what we'll do with you. The only thing your little bitchass mouth should do is obey to what we tell you to do. Understood?"

Oh how you loved seeing this side of him. You couldn't argue anymore and only nodded, squeezing your thighs together.

"Min, keep her legs open. I don't want her to pleasure herself yet.

- Jisung, please…

- Listen to your boyfriend and maybe we'll do something about all this," your whole body shivered when Minho slipped a finger in your panties to then slide his finger from around your hole up to your clit, spreading your lube all over your vulva. You moaned at this and then he immediately removed his finger.

He showed his now wet finger to the both of you and Jisung took it in his mouth to suck it off, making sure you could see how his tongue moved around Minho's finger. Once again, Minho didn't seem to react much to it, but you very much did. 

The view was so lewd to you, your boyfriend sucking off his best friend's finger which was under your panties right before that. You wanted to taste it too, but you were bound to only respond to what they told you, so you only watched and hoped they would touch you again.

When Minho took his finger out of Jisung's mouth, he made sure to drag it down Jisung's chin so that saliva was on it. You could see his head just above your boyfriend's shoulder, he was looking right at you with his eyes even darker than usually, if that was ever possible.

"Ji, let's let her take her shirt off. The poor girl looks like she's about to melt.

- Right, let's do that."

"Finally," you thought. You mentally cheered when Jisung took a hold of the hem of your shirt and he slowly lifted it up, until it was at your head and he waited for you to lift yourself up a little to completely take it off.

You weren't wearing a bra, so your boobs were at once exposed to them. Weirdly enough, you felt insecure. You guessed that was only what the effect having the both of them all over you did to you. You still hid them with your arms and they looked at you with fake pity.

"Aww, are we getting shy, now? Don't be, dear.

- You know we can't do anything if you don't make yourself completely at our disposal," Jisung pouted at you.

Taken over by embarrassment, you left your boobs to instead hide your face. Your eyes were tightly shut and you were breathing heavily. You heard some shuffling and you also felt Jisung getting up for a little moment before coming back to you and pressing his now bare chest on yours. You knew his face was less than inches away from yours, as you felt his slow and steady breathing hitting your arms.

There was some more shuffling from behind and then the matress sunk a little more. You guessed Minho was on the bed too, but you couldn't guess where.

"Please look at me, baby."

You did as told and slowly removed your arms from your face. Your eyes were still shut though and it took you some more courage to open them up. 

You didn't know why he had so much more effect on you tonight, but when you saw the familiarity of his brown and loving eyes, you remembered how attractive and affectionate your boyfriend was. There was no place for insecurity with him, and you knew it.

"Let me pleasure you first. Okay?"

You nodded and then he smiled at you sweetly before leaning in and kissing you. Of course you kissed back and wrapped your arms around his neck to bring him closer to you. His hands that were previously rested on your waist now started to lightly trail down your body and you felt one of them tug on the waistband of your shorts.

As Jisung kissed and teased you, Minho laid next to you two, one hand lifting his head up. Only observing you both satisfied him and he would occasionally stroke your curves. He would watch how your and Jisung's tongue sometimes brushed against each other, how your chests moved in sync. How your hips would slowly lift up and then go back down with Jisung's. You were almost one body and he felt hypnotized by it.

Jisung opened back his eyes to look at Minho while he was still kissing you. He gestured for him to come closer and so he did. Jisung stopped the kiss and looked at your now swollen lips with a satisfied grin.

"Relax for now, Y/n."

As Minho took Jisung's place above you, the latter went in between your legs after having sled your shorts and then your panties off. You were dripping wet, he could tell you had been like this for a while too.

He leaned in to kiss your clit and then he lightly brushed his tongue over it, making you react against Minho's mouth. It was obviously muffled, since you were already kissing Minho. Jisung continued a bit more teasing, only touching your clit for less than a second before pulling away each time. He decided to slide a finger across your vulva, getting as much lubricant as he could on it. He then looked at it and with his wet finger he spread it on his thumb to finally watch the sticky fluids connect together as he separated his fingers.

As Minho massaged your boobs and eventually started pinching your nipples, you were getting worked up and Jisung noticed that. He judged you'd waited enough already and finally but slowly started rubbing your clit with his thumb. You were already moaning due to Minho's hands, but now you got louder when your boyfriend touched you like that.

His thumb was quickly replaced with his tongue which slid down your lips and sometimes teased your hole. Then he'd come back up to draw circles on your clit. He'd also suck, his hands placing themselves on your hips to keep you still. If he didn't do that, you'd be moving too much and Jisung wanted to have control over you.

Minho broke the kiss and a string of saliva connected both your lips. It eventually also broke when he went a little more down your body to go fumble with your boobs. He took one of them in his mouth and used the tip of his tongue to tease your nipple, which combined with Jisung eating you out made you a mess.

You would say things like "Yes, just like that," "Please," or "Fuck" from time to time when the stimulation got even better and eventually Jisung inserted one finger in you. You hid your face once again with one of your arms and Minho got up from you, placing himself next to Jisung who was watching your reactions closely. Minho rubbed your clit gently as Jisung fingered you and they both got satisfied once you started breathing heavier and your back arched. 

Your free hand was stimulating your boobs as the two boys were occupied somewhere else. You didn't think how good it would feel to have a threesome, but now that you had a taste of it, you never wanted it to end. You loved how harsh and gentle they both could be and how incredibly hot it was to see them play with your body.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" They both intently looked at you as their hands kept ruining you.

You only nodded, arching your back again to physically show how great you felt under them. They both stopped in their movements and you finally looked at them.

"Use words, are you enjoying yourself?" Minho demanded, making you feel so humiliated. You wanted to cry due to his hard stare burning you, but you only obeyed and answered with a shy "Yes."

"My good girl," Jisung kissed your inner thigh and inserted a second finger in you. He knew it was hard for you to adjust to it, so it took a little while for him to slide it all in. Minho also waited for you to get accommodated to it and only restarted occupying you when Jisung pumped his fingers in and out of you a few times already.

Eventually, the sight of you squirming and moaning and panting, completely naked and ready to be destroyed made his cock hurt in his pants since he was growing harder and harder as time passed. Since it was getting tight in there, he stopped his movements and came closer to you.

"Sweetheart, I'm starting to get a bit impatient. Can you help me with that?" He guided your hands to his bulge and you felt his dick through the fabric. You also took the time to study his hand that was over yours. His veins showed so much at this time, they went all the way up to just above his wrist. You thought that if you happened to have a needle with you, they'd even pop only at the sight of it.

He had two rings on his fingers and his hand looked overall so soft but rough at the same time. You felt the need to touch his veins, but instead you massaged his dick which made him sigh and relax. His hand then left yours and he used it to pass it through his hair. 

"You heard him, Y/n. Be a good girl and jerk him off for us," Jisung curled his fingers in you and kept hitting something in you that felt incredibly good, though you couldn't tell what it was exactly.

You carefully undid the knot that was made on Minho's sweatpants and when it was done, he took them off along with his boxers. It did take him a while to take them off though, he saw how impatient you got and he knew you were anticipating. So when all his clothes were off and you could finally see all of it, it was enough to almost send you over the edge. The fact Jisung was still going hard with you made it difficult for you to concentrate any more, but you still traced your index finger along Minho's dick.

It wasn't abnormally big, maybe a little above average. You felt small veins on it when your fingers lightly stroked it, and then you approached yourself to spit on the tip. You first shyly licked his tip, then when you heard shaky breaths from him you took him all in your mouth.

You weren't used to deepthroating, but you wanted to do it for some reason. With the pleasure from Jisung's fingers all at once fingering you and rubbing on you, you moaned around Minho's dick, which sent vibrations to him.

"Fuck, please do this again," he took a hold of the back of your head, making you stay like this a little more. You moaned again, since Jisung went harder on you with Minho's request. You knew that after this, your pussy would be a whole lot swollen.

When he let go of your head to grab your hair, you started sucking his dick like you'd normally do with Jisung. You'd use your hand to jerk what you couldn't reach with your mouth and you also used your tongue, like a lot. Over time, you knew exactly what would make the best reactions out of your boyfriend and when you did the same things to Minho, he was soon throwing his head back and whimpering.

Jisung's erection hurt so much when he looked at the view of you sucking his best friend off. At that point he didn't even know who he wanted to be, since the both of you had as much effect on him. He inserted a third and last finger in you, once again making sure it doesn't hurt too much. He then continued using his tongue on your clit.

Maybe it was everything all at once, but you quickly came to your high after that third finger Jisung had slid into you. You pulled away from Minho, unable to function anymore and you threw your head back, the pleasure consuming you. You moaned Jisung's name as he helped you with your orgasm.

You thought he'd stop once you'd calm down, but as he kept on rubbing your clit, you quickly became overestimulated and tears filled up your eyes.

"Jisung, please…

- Don't leave Minho hanging like that, darling. Keep going."

You let out a sob of desperation and only continued pumping Minho's cock. He brushed some hair off your face as you did so and he watched as tears of overstimulation fell down your cheeks. He wished you had worn mascara at this moment, too bad you didn't have any makeup on.

"You're doing so good right now, sweetheart. Keep crying like this and I might have to cum on your face.

- Yes, fuck, please do that," you begged as you felt a second orgasm building up.  That was just how skilled Jisung was with both his hands and his mouth, he could make you cum however many times he'd wish. You went faster with jerking Minho off and you saw how his breathing went faster when you did so.

You kept going and he started whimpering out incoherent sentences. Maybe begs, maybe praise, you didn't exactly know but the sound of his voice sent you over the edge for the second time and you came around Jisung's fingers. At the sight of you, Minho reached his own high and came on your hand. He was a panting mess, his hair hid most of his eyes and his lips were parted. His cum wasn't so hot on your hand as your skin was burning already, but the sight of it made you want to lick it all off.

What you didn't expect was for Jisung to join you two and take your hand to his mouth to lick it off himself. He then brought his own hand to Minho's mouth, who opened it a little more to let Jisung's fingers in. They intensely made eye contact and you felt even hotter if that was even possible.

You took this free time to get behind Jisung and you slid his shorts off along with his underwear with one hand. Since he was on his knees, you couldn't take them completely off, but he helped you by raising his legs so you could do it as he was still tasting Minho's cum on your hand.

You knew that now there wasn't anything else on your fingers, so you took them out of his mouth to then start jerking him off with that hand from behind him. He immediately moaned and laid the back of his head on your shoulder. Minho took this opportunity to take Jisung's fingers out of his mouth and he went to kiss and lightly bite his neck. He also went up to his jawline and down to his collarbone, basically tasting every inch of free skin he had.

His hands explored his body and Jisung almost saw stars. Your hands worked wonders and Minho's mouth made him feel even hotter. His fingers burned his skin and he didn't think he would forget the way he touched him anytime soon. Oh how he loved being bisexual.

You turned Jisung's head towards yours and you kissed. You had never seen your boyfriend this submissive before, but it made you feel some type of way. His whimpers directly entered your mouth as you were kissing and you went faster at pumping his dick. Minho also helped you by playing with his balls, making him completely unable to function properly.

Your previously free hand went pinching one of his hard nipples and Minho went sucking the other one, making eye contact with you. They had some sort of sparkle in them and you somehow couldn't look away from him. 

"Plea…se, I'm gonna cum…" Jisung panted and arched his back. You went even faster, but right when he got worked up you suddenly let go of his dick. Minho figured out what you were doing and pulled away from your boyfriend, looking at him mockingly.

"Well well, would you look at that," Minho said with a hint of teasing in his voice.

"Who's the whore now, Ji?" You asked, sweetly whispering to his ear.

"Please make me cum, I'm begging. I can't take it anymore," he was bucking his hips to find any friction he could get.

"You look so pathetic right now," Minho ran his finger along Jisung's dick, making him whimper even more.

"Whose whore are you?

- Yours, I'm your whore," Jisung practically moaned out his answer and Minho put his hand around Jisung's base.

Minho went even faster than you at pumping Jisung, and soon Jisung was even more of a moaning and whimpering mess. He kept begging for you both and soon he came on his stomach and Minho's hand.

"That's a good boy," Minho praised, helping Jisung go down his orgasm.

Once he had calmed down, you stopped stroking his hair because it was now your turn to have fingers in your mouth. Although you didn't like the taste of cum, you made sure to swallow it all, since Minho was looking at you with expecting eyes and you didn't want to displease him.

When he took his fingers out of your mouth, you showed him you had swallowed every drop of cum he had wanted you to take. He sweetly tapped your cheek and sent you a praising smile.

"Now let's take care of you again," Minho announced, which made Jisung turn around and guide you down on the bed, suddenly regaining his confidence.

He went back up after having made you lay on your back and both men were looking at you from both sides.

"What should we do with her?" Jisung asked his friend, briefly looking at him.

"How about we tie her up?

- Sure, let me grab something for that."

As Jisung had regained his confidence, you had lost all of yours at that point. You knew that Jisung was going to get the same red ribbon you guys used sometimes when you felt like it and you subconsciously squeezed your thighs together. 

As you thought, he did come back with the ribbon and two condoms. You smiled at that and he threw one at Minho, who effortlessly caught it. As they both unwrapped it, they made sure they weren't perforated and when they saw they weren't, they put them on. Then Jisung went to tie your arms together above your head and Minho stretched two fingers into you to see if you were still loose or if they had to prepare you a little more.

"She's still loose and dripping, listen," Minho quickly fingered you, which made some wet sounds. That wasn't the only sound this produced, you also obviously started moaning, since it had been a few minutes already since you hadn't had anyone fingering you and you were still sensitive.

"Damn, I'm surprised you still want us after those two orgasms. Must be good to have two guys all over you, huh?" Jisung teased, as he made sure the knot he made with the ribbon would restrain you but would not be too painful. 

"I want both of you in me," you requested and Minho took his fingers out of you.

"Who's starting?" He asked.

"Do it, I'm gonna watch," Jisung said and came sitting behind you, placing your head on his stomach. Your tied hands rested on his shoulder.

"Hope you're ready for this, sweetheart."

He positioned himself so that his dick would be aligned with your hole and with his hand he pushed himself in, slowly. Only the tip made you react and you whimpered. Jisung reassuringly stroked your arms and said how well you were doing.

At some point Minho was all the way in you and he went over you so that he could make direct eye contact while he'd be fucking you. His necklace was hanging between you two and at first you focused on it, but then Minho lifted your chin up with his index.

"Look at me baby, I wanna see your pretty eyes."

And so you looked into his eyes and he started thrusting in you. At first he was slow, but as time passed he went faster and faster, to eventually become straight up rough with you. Jisung was occupying your boobs and Minho was still intensely looking at you as he destroyed your pussy.

Your moans quickly became Minho's name and it only made him go faster in you. From time to time he would slap your thighs and grip then harshly when you tried to squeeze them around him until he simply put one of your legs over his shoulder and lifted himself up so he would hit your g-spot better. You wanted to hold onto something, but the ribbon restrained you so you couldn't do anything to stop your oversensitivity. 

Minho was also pretty vocal, as he often grunted, whimpered or whispered some random curse word. Jisung occasionally would slap your tits when you were too agitated to his liking and it would make you let out desperate whines. 

"You take me so well, it shows you've been doing this often," Minho told you as he went faster into you. Maybe he didn't want to show it, but you could guess he was about to cum when he bit his lip and concentrated on where you two were connected.

His thrusts became sloppy and incoherent and soon he let out shaky breaths that almost sounded like some more whimpers. You felt his cum spilling in the condom and you guessed he was done with you. He slowed down and eventually pulled out of you, still panting and he brushed his hair out of his face, still looking at your pussy. He gave it a light slap that made you jump and with that he looked up to Jisung.

"Finish up for me, I'm gonna go take a shower," he announced, giving you a quick peck on the lips and winking at Jisung before grabbing his clothes from the floor and walking out of the room.

Jisung placed your head on a pillow and went between your legs, easily sliding into you and immediately going rough on you, wrapping a hand around your neck. He didn't press too hard, since he knew that would be dangerous. 

"You looked like you forgot I was your boyfriend earlier, that kind of made me upset. Sorry darling, but I'm not gonna go easy on you. Open up."

You opened your mouth and he spit on your tongue, some saliva dripping down your lips. When he did, you swallowed and rolled your eyes back. You loved how he was disrespecting you and if it meant he was going to do this each time, you would start making him jealous more often.

"It's not my fault Minho was so good with me. He's really skilled, you know," you dared say, knowing it would annoy him a little.

He slapped your cheek with the hand that was previously around your neck. He then thrusted deeper and harder into you, with a visible frown on his face.

"Say that again and I'm letting you finish alone. I knew you were a bitch but not that much. You're actually pathetic."

You moaned at that and the sting on your cheek felt better than it hurt. You already felt you were going to come soon, so you asked him to continue going fast.

"I'm gonna cum soon too, wait a little longer for me," Jisung commanded, his hands were on both sides of your head on the pillow and he leaned in to roughly kiss you. His chest pressed against yours and once again you became one. You were both moaning into the kiss and sometimes you couldn't even close your mouth, overtaken by pleasure.

"Ji, I'm gonna cum, please.

- Do it. Cum around me."

And so you did. Your whole body shook as he still went fast and hard in you, his orgasm coming soon after you. He moaned your name out and you both rode out of your orgasm. Once he pulled out of you and untied your hands, he laid his head on your chest and you played with his hair, trying to get your breath back.

You heard the door open and Minho came in all dressed. He sat on the edge of the bed, looking at both of you with soft eyes.

"Let's do this more often," you finally announced, and they both agreed to it before you and Jisung went to the bathroom, Minho waited for you in the living room.

___

I'm sorry if this was badly written

[kai-anderson-whore]

Beautiful boy (dad kai Anderson x mom fem reader)

.warnings: mentions of the cult and kai being a softie for the first time in his life

A/n: had tis idea to make a kai Fluff and its actually too adorable at the end 😭

•¤❅¤•.•°˚˚°•..•°˚˚°•.•¤❅¤•.•¤❅¤•.•°˚˚°•. .•°˚˚°

The wind blowing around the Michigan Park as you pulled your coat tighter around your frame your jaw slightly jitters watching your four year old son play, "Kingsley come on we need to go home it's freezing buddy" you called walking over to your small child before he ended up catching a cold.

You held your sons hand walking him to your car, "let go home to daddy little guy" you smiled strapping Kingsley into his carseat, your son was in a world of his own as you heated up the car before driving home to your husband.

You dreaded coming home to your husband he wasn't the same like he used to be when you were first married he was loving, kind, he would touch a hair on anyone's head but now he's mean, selfish, dangerous and addicted to adderall you wish he would change for Kingsley but no you were left to pick the pieces up.

Kai is a good father not the best but he knew how to look out for his family, maybe a bit too much he was the heli parent the type to keep everything and anything away from your son whilst you wanted to let your explore the world around him, have fun get his senses going with the outer world.

"Do you want Dino nuggies for dinner sweetface" you asked looked up at the rear view mirror to see your sons approval, "yes momma" he giggled kicking his legs in glee, "okay I'll make them once we get home".

Once you got home there was no one in or so you thought when you heard commotion from down stairs in the basement, "Hey buddy why don't you watch something on your ipad till mommy sees daddy" you said grabbing your sons ipad and headphones "okay mama" Kingsley smiled.

You placed the headphones on your sons head putting on some cartoon he likes that will keep him entertained till you let kai know that you were home, you never liked when kai held the meetings when Kingsley was home you didn't want him to be exposed to that stuff ever but kai was reluctant otherwise Kingsley was his messiah you hated it he was his son not a messiah.

You made your way down the basement seeing all the cult members listening to kai's words till he stopped his eyes on yours "y/n your home" he said he didn't expect you to be home till he realised he told you he'd be an hour and it had been two that went by "Yeah erm Kingsley is watching his ipad" you said unsure what to say.

"That's it for today everyone" kai said you knew that was your queue to go back upstairs to Kingsley you didn't want him to see his fathers cult, you went back upstairs before anyone else taking Kingsley to the kitchen to help you make dinner.

"Mama can we watch a movie tonight with daddy?" Your four year old asked you let out a smile and nodded "of course we can after you have your bath then we can watch cars your favourite" you said watching your son jump with glee.

You heard the front door close and kai entering the kitchen wrapping his arms around your waist, he always showed affection towards you ever since you were pregnant with Kingsley you loved it to say the least but you couldnt deal with the cult, "what you making?" Kai asked.

"Dinno nuggies for Kingsley and a pizza for us also Kingsley wants to watch a movie with us tonight so he can come in our room tonight" you said turning around to face kai, "y/n you know he needs to sleep in his own room he's just gotten used to it" kai said with a stern face.

"It's just for tonight you know you hated it when he's not with us kai" you pout kai shook his head in protest, "actually it was great we had privacy" he smirked his hand now resting on your ass, Kingsley now off to play with his toys.

"Well it's just for one night kai" you chuckled moving away from him to check on your son, kai following behind, "daddy come play with me" Kingsley beamed playing with his toy cars, "sure buddy" kai said going to play with Kingsley.

You observed your husband and son interact it always mesmerised you how loving kai was to your son, never shouted infront of him, was very patient with him, everything he wasn't to anyone else you loved that about kai, he showed his son love wanting to make his childhood as normal as possible.

As the night rolled on you and kai bathed Kingsley got his favourite pyjamas on which were his spiderman ones that his auntie winter bought him for their pyjama party a few months back, now all of you ready for bed Kingsley sat in the middle of the bed between you and kai as the opening credits of Disney cars played.

Kingsley was snuggled up to his father who had an arm wrapped around you both holding you close, kai hated to admit he liked physical touch from people but at night when it was the three of you he always had his arm around you both keeping you close as a family, you always loved it when he did this since it was the only time he did.

Kingsley had his hand out for you to trace your finger over it something he always did to help him sleep at night whilst the other hand on kais ear playing it it ( side note idk why but my little sister always did this to help her sleep and it really fucking hurt) not even halfway into the movie Kingsley was sound asleep little light snores leaving his lips, his fingers still playing with kais ear making sure his dad doesn't go anywhere.

"Aww look at him he's too cute" you whispered to kai who was already observing his son with a proud smile, "we really did get lucky with him didn't we" he sighed his eyes now on you with such love and admiration, something that you saw more since Kingsley was born, kai got a lot softer since becoming a father well to you, your son and his sister but he was the same kai to everyone else you didn't care about that though.

"You know I think we should have another baby someone he can play superheroes with" kai suggested you were taken aback at your husbands words, you didn't think he would want another baby unless it was for the cult, "you really want another baby kai?" You asked needing to hear him say it again, "I'm being serious y/n what do you say one or two more" he said you couldn't help but smile your eyes filled with love for the man infront of you.

You glanced down at Kingsley making your smile even brighter, "okay we'll try for another baby" you agreed laying your head on the pillow, if it were up to kai you would probably be pregnant with your third child by now he wanted as many kids as possible with you but you wanted a small family two maybe three kids most.

"I love you" you yawned the weight of the night washing over you, "I love you too" kai yawned back turning the tv off before falling asleep with you and your son in his arms making him feel like the luckily man on earth

[onskepa]

It's ok how about them reacting to the romanian movie morometii you can find the whole movie on you tube on cinepub channel with english subtitles it's a movie which shows how the peasants în the interbelic period lived în Romania the rules of thisare the same from my request with the revenant still aplies if you want to of course:)

Okie dokie! So for this one, I imagine only the adults watching it. So enjoy~!!

P.S: I think this is the first time that I couldnt think of a title so im using the movie title instead.

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

Morometii

Mo’at sighed tiredly as she just finished the last patient in getting healed. Her age is getting to her, not as energetic as she was before. She isn't complaining though, any injuries are simply related to getting hurt during a hunt or taking it too far in training. So the tsahik cleans her tent, feeling very excited for her special plans tonight. 

A movie night with her family. 

Simplu, a fellow human from the base, made a high recommendation for mo’at to enjoy. Mo’at does not oppose it and is open to anything. Except for overlight high CGI movies. Those are an absolute eye sore to mo’ats aging eyes. How can anyone stand those? Too flashy for her. 

Either way, mo’at trusts smplu with her opinion. Even if the name is a bit confusing.

“Moro…metee?” mo’at repeated slowly. 

Simply chuckled as she held an old DVD box. “Morometii” she said, slowly so Mo'at could say it clearly. 

“Morometii” this time the tsahik says it right. 

“That's right,” Simplu praised. 

“Will it give me a headache?” mo’at asks. Simplu shakes her head. 

“No no, unlike the other films, this one is simple. It is black and white and gray scales, no dramatic shots or anything realistically fake” 

If mo’at had eyebrows, one would be raised. Her doubts clearly showed. 

“And the plot?” 

Simplu giggled, “what use of me telling you? That would spoil the fun” 

“And the children?” mo’at asks as she noticed neither her grandchildren nor the reef children were present. 

“They all went to watch something else,” Neytiri replied. 

“Simplu did mention that the kids might get bored with this type of movie, so I let them have a go ahead to watch something else,” Jake added. He and tonowari were making sure the ladies were comfortable with pillows plush and soft, ronal gathering the favorite snacks, and neytiri helping her mother get more comfy. 

“Won't simplu be joining us?” mo’at asks. 

The recommended movie is from Simplu's homeland, wouldn't she be interested to see? 

“Here! I'm here! Sorry I'm late, had to help the kids with the other dvd player” simplu shouted as she entered the area. Mo’at smiled in relief. 

Jake smiled, “alright, lets start this” and pressed play. 

The screen was filled with imagery, and like simplu said, it was black and white. Though, unlike the crips and clear vision, it looked grainy and much older. 

“Already into an interesting start” ronal muttered as she gets comfortable beside tonowari. 

The first shot begins with many views of objects, trees, the skies, all slowly to allow the viewers to see. 

“Already getting a sense of gloom jake comments as the slow soundtrack plays. Its lingering long notes, short haunting notes, give a sense that the movie will not be a happy one. 

The next shot was of an elderly man, staring straight at the camera as he smokes a cigarette. Unfamiliar animal sounds in the background. The shot changes to a lady waking up from what looks like a family pile. 

“Do humans sleep like us? Huddling together?” neytiri asks as she notices more people sleeping around the lady. 

“In the ancient times yes” simplu answered. 

The lady stood up and stared at the man who was smoking, speaking an unknown language. 

“Oops! My bad!” Jake stood up quickly to pause it and went to settings. 

“You forgot?” simplu asks, jake chuckles nervously as he nodded. 

“What are you doing?” Neytiri asks, seeing weird words on the screen. 

“Changing to english, so everyone can understand what's going on” Jake replies, after a fix, the movie resumes. And this time everyone can hear the characters. 

“I dreamed of a white piglet….”

The man and the lady began to speak, their words low and simple. Very straightforward. 

“Their clothes are interesting…” mo’at took note of. 

While they do mutter some comments, the rest of the na’vi adults let their eyes wonder if this new style of film. Or old.

As they see how the humans interact, Ronal and Neytiri couldn't help but admire how the overall land, the animals, and the people themselves looked. ‘Farmers’ as jake and Simplu would state. Farmers who take care of their herd and families. 

Not so far from how their own clans farm certain things. 

“Milk the goat! What will you eat?” 

“Crayfish!” 

“It seems through times women have not changed” Tonowari muttered yet earned a slap on his shoulder from his wife. 

“Nagging sure is a dominant trait in women” Jake agreed, only to also earn a harsh slap at the back of his head from neytiri. 

The scene changes to the youngest boy, waking up from what looked like a nap. Getting up he looks at his surroundings, it seems to be a small wooded area, the sheeps not so far from him. The music makes it almost an eerie feeling to the scene. The wind rustles through the trees, ripples forming from the water, the grassing swaying. 

“What are they doing?” neytiri wonders, seeing two young men hiding behind some trees as the sheep run towards the corn field. Making the young boy run after them. 

Before anything more could be talked about, the scene changes to the mother. A worried look on her face. Supper is ready she announces, her family members going to the home to eat. All the while throwing odd insults. 

“I never heard of such scolding like that” mo’at whispers. 

Simplu chuckles a bit, “that is romanian mothers for you” 

The scene goes on, the family having their dinner, all while the mother worries about the youngest son. 

“Telling the other to shut up, why can't they themselves?” Ronal says, not liking how the father and sons command their mother/wife. 

“Times were different, family dynamics back then were more strict” simplu explains. Though the explanation doesn't seem to satisfy the reef tsahik. 

“Hmf, still” 

“On the other hand we need money…The loan must be paid back in the fall” Morometii explains to his son. 

Money is often mentioned in the movie. Neytiri and mo’at only understand very bit how item transactions work in human customs, but never a whole lot. 

“Why is money so important?” neytiri asks jake. He sighs a bit, letting his mind go back in time. 

“For humans, it is everything. It is what made the earth go round as they say” he replies. 

“How?” she perseus. How can money make a giant planet move? Is it essential? 

“Money didnt always make the world go around. The early humans were fine without it. Only now, yeah, humans cant live without it” simplu adds. 

“Look, money is confusing even for adults, so try not to stress so much on it” jake tells. Simplu gives him a look, without him knowing. 

The scene changes to that of the youngest son and his mother. The mother provides some food for her child, wondering of his words. “What about Bisisica? What do you mean?” the mother asks. 

“This is really confusing…” ronal frowns slightly, still trying to understand what really is going on, even the names! There is so many people already! 

“It will all make sense later on ronal” simplu reasures. Though she can understand, while  she loves the movie, it took her a few watches to fully understand the whole movie. Then again, simplu’s first time watching it was when she was a child. 

The son replies as he enjoys his food, repeating what he overheard from his father and brother. 

“Woe betide you if you come up the hill! You won't have any joy left in you” the mother scolds. However her words left everyone, except for simplu, confused. 

“What does that even mean?” Jake asks. He felt so lost at that point. 

Nila and Morometii grab some axes and go towards the acacia tree. As they made their way, farther ahead in the field were echos of a weeping woman. Her cries reached far in the morning. Crying for a man named ‘ion’. 

“Oh that poor woman…” mo’at covers her mouth. Hearing the woman weep so much made her heart tug. Reminding herself. How mo’at would weep for her descended mate. 

Neytiri and ronal feel terrible as well. Never imagining themselves living a life without their husbands. Wondering what could have happened to the woman’s dead husband. 

But as the ladies feel pity, nila and morometii begin to cut the tree. While being watched from afar. The youngest boy seeing them cutting away at the tree. Letting his mind wonder back to a certain winter time. 

From hearts being tugged, nila and morometii managed to bring down the tree. 

“Why such a need? What did that tree ever do to them?” ronal hisses. It seems humanity has not changed even in ancient times. 

“The acacia wood is high value, that is why. When there were plenty, many humans back then would use acacia wood for how good it was” simplu explains. Ronal simply crosses her arms. 

“Bah! Holding a mimicking weapon and already I'm seeing the resemblance” Ronal complains. Barely 30 minutes into the movie and she is hating on Paraschiv. Nila is not too far from her hate list. Dressing up like soldiers and practicing the routines. 

“Has war already existed in that era?” tonowari asks. 

Jake and simplu made a face, “it has been for thousands of years” 

While the movie both in plot and making of it, war has always been there. Pretty difficult to get rid of in humans. 

“Nila! Where are you running off to?” 

“To the pre military service!” 

Morometii and what looks to be his neighbor, Dimitru, discusses the usefulness of serving military areas. Why work for the country when you can stay and work with your family? Seems something more in morometii’s ideals. 

“But nila won't be an officer even if there is no one else around” 

“Damn, seems he doesn't believe in nila” Jake comments. 

In Jake's eyes, nila seems odd. Not odd in being the weirdo of the family, but more odd as if nila is still somewhat like a child. Earlier fighting with paraschiv as if they were toddlers fighting over a toy. Morometii mentioned nila is 24, a full grown man. So why does Nila act as if he is younger? Even the youngest child acts wiser than nila. 

“Ugh, I never understand why men have the need to blow out smoke” mo’at gives a disgusted expression. 45% of the time morometii is smoking. Constantly. In what she knows of human biology, inhaling that much smoke can damage the lungs. 

“Why hurt themselves like that?” she asks. 

“For humans, it is a relaxing method. Eases their nerves and minds. But it does come at a cost” simplu answers. 

Understanding humans will forever be a confusing and difficult task. 

“What is he doing?!” tonowari shouts. 

Little boys were enjoying a game of hopping on top of one another. Enjoying their time together while one of the older sons of morometii along with the youngest interrupts their fun. Integrating each child until patience ran thin. To the point where the older son, who is an adult, is threatening and slapping the boys to get an answer out of them. 

It did not sit well with tonowari. 

How can anyone treat a child like that? Especially not of their own blood! 

The poor child that was being slapped confessed on who the perpetrator was, his voice shaking. 

Niculae, the youngest son, was being told to get them. Though the boy doesnt move. Much to his brother's frustrations. 

“No! No more!” neytiri looks away. Seeing the boy being slapped physically pained her. To what extent can humans be so cruel? 

“Sadly neytiri, it is our reality. Back then children were not treated with much kindness nor respect” simplu informs. She remembers back when she first saw that scene, made her feel the slap too. But the more she watched it, the more she became numb to it. Maybe not a good sign of how normal it is now. 

Jake nudges her to keep watching, not a good scene, but they will get over it. 

The music gets intense, making the situation become scarier. 

One of the boys did come up, telling how niculae broke their skull. Only to be rough handled by achim. The adult telling the boy to throw niculae to the ground. Clearly the boy was very uncomfortable. 

“Fight him now! Come on!” achim tells the other boys. All clearly frightened. The same boy threw niculae to the ground twice. Niculae fighting back. Taking control of the situation until he was over the other boy. Achim finally calling an end to it. 

Not far from what is happening, the group of women were watching, Doing nothing. 

“Do they not interfere?” ronal asks. The women just sit and not take action. 

“Back then it was easier and safer for women to not do anything. Letting the men sort it out” jake tells. 

Great, in ronal’s eyes, humanity hated women and children.

“A play?” 

The na’vi tilt their heads in curiosity. 

A man dressed in a silly costume is playfully scaring the locals that are around to see the entertainment. By hearing a signal, many more men dressed in old military-like outfits and made a circle to dance around in. Music plays and it becomes a silly cheery mood. 

Many laugh and seem to be enjoying the play. 

While in the background one of morometii’s daughters sneakily goes behind his back and meet in the glade with someone. 

“I hate this movie,” neytiri hisses. 

Polina, the girl who went to meet the gentleman, Birica, was no gentleman in her eyes. The girl confesses of whom she chooses to marry and earns a slap. 

“In frightens me to know you share blood with those people” mo’at turns to simplu. She shrugs a bit. 

“Things have changed over time mo’at. Its not the same as before” 

“Hopefully the change is better” 

“Oh certainly” 

“Maria, you should stop working and come to church to listen to the holy gospel. Your soul will rot in hell!” 

“I dont mind” 

“I keep forgetting how religious people were in those times…” simplu muttered. Any and all religion on earth was slowly dying as technology became its new god among humans, 

“What is hell? Has anyone returned from there?” 

Maria and Morometii clearly showing their shared blood as siblings. Work being favored over god. 

The words that comes from maria seems that of hopelessness and seeing no light. 

“At least she is keeping it real” jake says. 

In his eyes, Maria reflects how he viewed the world many years ago. What is the point of worshiping something that guarantees nothing? 

Except for when maria insults and  randomly slaps niculae. 

“Fools!” she shouts.

Another play has taken the scene. Morometii and his friends went to see the children displaying a cute play for many to see. A young girl wearing a pretty flower crown tells of what looks like a story. Many applaud her as a man tells of the winners. 

“First prize for boys! Morometii Niculae” the man announces. 

Morometii stands still as he hears the name of his son. 

Niculae walks up to the stage wearing his father’s hat as the instructor gives him a flower crown and a paper. 

“Take off your hat! Poor boy. I bought him that hate, and he doesnt even know how to wear it” morometii chuckles a bit. 

“Lies” simplu snapped. 

Everyone leans forward, just as the audience in the movie, they all stood silent to hear what poem the son wrote. 

“Stage frights?” Jake questions. 

Niculae gotten sick, unable to read his poem and was set aside. 

“Oh all of a sudden he cares,” neytiri comments. Seeing morometii showing concern for niculae. 

“Probably to save face” ronal says with the same tone.

It was time to reap. 

Morometii, his family, along with other farmers woke up early. Many hop on their wagons and horses and all head to the fields. 

Large lands of crops ready to be harvested. 

Using sickle blades, the family begins to cut away and have the weat be collected. 

This part piqued the na’vi’s interest. They were not exposed much in how farming is done in human standards. So this was in a way new to them. 

“Bending down like that, and with still so much to reap. Doesn't that hurt their backs?” tonowari asks. 

Simplu and Jake nod. 

“At that time, no machines existed to make farming easier. All done bare hands. And that is to feed thousands of people” simple explained. 

They more how the farmers worked. Taking what little shade is provided from the hot sun. Resting a bit and continuing with work. It looked like a fruitful harvest. Many work together to get it done. 

Simplu looks at the hard work, feeling an odd sense of nostalgia, “I wonder what it was like to eat real bread….” 

“father….I am going to school” 

“So go”

The family was eating their meal in silence. Only simple comments were shared. Nila muffles his laugh. Niculae looks at his father, “you’ll see”. He gets up and leaves. His other siblings smiling at him, silently laughing at him. 

“Morometii doesnt believe in his son” mo’at says in a matter of fact tone. Seems to hardly believe anything in the youngest son. 

“Simplu, just what else was normal in romania? Mocking a child for wanting to learn? Perfering to slack their way to life?” neytiri turns to look and simplu. The Romanian girl gulps at her sharp gaze. 

“Easy babe, you are making it seem like she has some fault,” jake says. 

“Many countries have different cultures. Just like your clans. Romania had its own….ummm…ways” simple replied. 

They continue to see the movie in silence until something else piqued someones interest.

The mother wakes up, noticing morometii wide awake as her children still lay asleep. Gripping her shirt, right where her heart is, Telling her husband of her worried for the youngest child, who wishes to go to school. Morometii carelessly saying to let the boy go. 

“I cant stand it anymore! I’ll go mad!” the mother weeps. 

“I will go mad with this movie!” neytiri onces again screeches out. 

“And I will go mad myself watching your insanity,” ronal growls. Having enough of Neytiri's loud comments. Yes she understands her frustrations but to shout every 5 minutes? It can get annoying really quick. 

“Alright, alright, lets cool down. We are almost done, baby, hey, lets try to just enjoy it alright?” jake does his best to calm down her wife. She rolls her eyes but silently agrees. For now. 

In the midst of the small dispute, mo’at listens carefully to what the mother is saying. 

“I dreamt of niculae was taken to the hospital. I went there. There was a little light at the morgue ‘oh god! The boy is dead!’ And I woke up”  

It was a very concerning thing to have as a dream. 

Mo’at can only see what else can occur. 

“Tita! Llinca! Hurry up!” 

When the tax collector returned, the daughters and sons of morometii quickly hid their things and horses. Morometii himself just layed on his bed with an empty look in his eyes. Perhaps lost in what to do. 

After hearing the possibility of achim not returning, and no money to pay. It took a toll on him. 

The tax collector and his assistant came with a full force. If morometii won't pay, then they will take their belongings. The wife fought against him to not take the cauldron. 

“Ruthless men, all of them” 

But none could have been more than paraschiv. 

Waking up his family, throwing items against his sister. Causing an uproar in his home. 

“What possessed you Paraschiv?” Morometii asks. 

Even in the morning, parachiv was different. Having an odd cocky attitude. Even slamming his bedroom door near his mother. 

“Break! Bang! What else are you able to do!?” the mother shouts. 

Jake looks at the ongoing scene, “maybe he has had enough?” 

“I break, I bang, are they yours?” the son asks. 

The mother had her daughter call their father again. Parachive laughs. 

“You think I'm scared of him? Those days are long gone” 

“Damn, never mind. He is in a rebellion phase” jake corrects himself. The sudden mood change and overall personality of parachive is certainly questionable. 

Even more when he demands something, only for his sister to bite back with her words. That ticked him. 

“How can he slap her like that!?” 

Parachive went for the trunk when his sister, llinca tried to stop him. Only for parachiv to slap and hit her. Screams and cries were heard. But parachiv got what he wanted. And morometii seemed to be on his side. 

“Really, who is the bad guy here?” jake was starting to question just how much of a poor victim morometii is. Slapping his own wife as she cries in distress. 

“As you like” mormometii says in calm defeat. The sudden voice change when speaking to his wife compared to speaking to his sons. 

“And he lets them get away like that?” ronal says, astonished. There is so many things wrong in her eyes. Mother being disrespected, hitting a sibling like she was an enemy, favoring the sons in a spoilt way. None of that would be tolerated. 

“Oh wait a sec” 

2 minutes later Morometii went to his sons, mostly paraschiv and beat the shit out of him with a stick. 

“That's more like it” neytiri smirks. Enjoying paraschiv screams and cries for his father to stop. 

“You show hound!”

Scolding and yelling, morometii lets his voice rise as he lectures his sons. The mother and daughters try to stop him from hurting parachiv any further. 

“The sons should be grateful for what they have” neytiri liking the words morometii speaks. 

“Parachiv and nila….they ran away. And they took the horses” Catrina tells morometii. She and her daughters had long dreaded expressions. 

There was a long pause 

“Alright, get the little one ready” morometii said before walking away. 

Niculae looked as his father and at his mother with an odd smirk. But it disappeared in a instant. 

All while moromettii goes into the barn, sitting down to gather himself before making a big decision. 

“He is going to sell that land” jake is predicting. And correct he was. 

Slobbery, a farming neighbor, is willing to buy the land he wants from morometii. Both the land that is from morometii’s long gone sister, and the plot behind his home. 

The next scene, niculae and morometii get on the wagon with a recently purchased horse. Catrina cries as she sees her son become farther away as morometii takes off to the road. 

“He is going to school afterall” mo’at says. Feeling sad for catrina. Her world falling apart right before her eyes. 

Morometii and niculae sat in silence in the wagon. The cold foggy air hitting their faces. It was hard to see ahead and know what was in front of them. They were like that for a few minutes before morometii stopped to ask. 

“Niculae, where are we going, son?” 

There was no direct answer, only turning left and kept on going. 

The credits rolled in, thus ending the movie.

“Well that was…. interesting” jake commented. Having mixed feelings about it. 

“It's one of your favorite simplu?” mo’at asks as she gets up. 

“Not exactly a favorite, but one I grew up with” simplu answers. 

Ronal and Tonowari get up as well, all stretching from sitting down so much. 

“Those people, I am still confused and lost. How did the romanians lived?” ronal asks. Simplu smiles, feeling a bit giddy. 

“If you are interested I would be delighted to teach you” 

Ronal and tonowari shared a similar nod. 

“Yes, it would be interesting to learn of your people. Some parts did not sit well with me however” tonowari says. Simplu nodded in understanding. 

“Fair, there will be many things that may not seem fair or right in your eyes. But that was how it was back then. When facing a never ending struggle, people get desperate and dont think right” 

While they wanted to discuss more, they noticed how late it gotten. 

“In a better suited time, you can be our Romanian teacher” mo’at lightly joked. 

“Oh I be honored” simplu smiled.

Finally it is done! I had to re-watch it like three times to fully understand it myself! I did purposely not mention the heavy political stuff since politics itself is confusing.

Ngl some parts made me a bit uncomfortable but hopefully this turned out to everyone's liking! Until next time! See ya!

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Birthday Parties Part 2

Alien: Do you have plans for the days of ending? Human: You mean weekend? Human: Yeah, I’ll be out celebrating my birthday. Alien: What the florp is a birth day? Human: A day we celebrate the day of our birth. Alien: In your case more of a blight upon the universe, no? ----------------------------

Alien: What purpose does this “Birthing day” serve? Human: It’s different for each person. Human: Some celebrate it as a day of vanity all about themselves. Human: Other’s see it as a mark of honor to have survived another year in a universe bent on their eradication. Human: Then there are those who seek companionship with friends and loved ones for a day of joy. Alien: Which are you? Human: The kind were I can eat an entire cake and not have anyone judge me. -----------------------------

Alien: What are those stacks of colorful boxes? Human: They are called “Presents”. Human: Guests give them to the person with the birthday. Alien: Ah, so you are paying tribute. Human: What? No. Alien: Does a larger gift not constitute a desire for a greater ranking? Human: I mean, sometimes it’s the thought that counts. Alien: I take it yours is the smallest offering on the table then? Human: Shut it! ---------------------------

*Giant cake rolled in and children get all excited* *Top bursts open and a clown jumps out* Clown: Who’s ready for fun with Boggles the Clown!? *Kids start cheering* *Alien comes up from behind and smashes a wooden chair into the Boggle’s back sending him to the ground while the kids scream and scatter* Alien: You do not deceive me pennywise the clown! *Lifts Boggles up and throws him into wall* Alien: You shall not have minen or these tiny human’s souls today! Human friend: *Off to the side drinking* This is the last fucking time I show you a horror movie. ---------------------------

Alien: What purposes does this activity serve? Human: It’s a game. Human: You get blindfolded and you try to pin the tail on the donkey. Alien: What manner of barbarians would remove a tail of such a noble create, only to then mock it by reattaching it? Human: I think you are reading too much into this. Alien: Were as I think you not enough. ----------------------------

Alien: FINE! *Alien is finally blindfolded and given the tail to pin* Human 2: You did warn them not to use their full strength, right? Human: Oh shit… *Alien stabs out with all their might but misses wall entirely and instead impales nearby party guest* Alien: I hear screams, does this mean I win? ----------------------

Human: So you take the knife and you cut a piece off for everyone. *Hands alien the knife* Alien: What if I do not wish to share this pastry? Human: I mean, that’s not really an option. Alien: But I have the knife; who would stop me? Human 2: *whispers* What do we do? Human: *Whispers back* I have no idea. No one’s pulled the knife gambit before. ---------------------

Human: What’d you get little timmy? Alien: a 44 magnum. Human: WHAT?!!? Human: What made you think it that was a good idea?!?! Alien: It was on conjunction with my mate’s gift to him. Human: What could possibly be in conjunction with a 44 magnum for an 11 year old?!!? *Loud groaning now heard from outside* Alien Mate: I have unleashed the virus and turned the guests into the requested zombies. --------------------

Human: Alright, there was some confusion with the clown last time and some people got hurt; but we’re cool now, right? Alien: *sighs* Yes. Human: No brutalizing the family entertainment, okay? Alien: Okay. Human: Alright then, good. Human: *Turns to kids* Who’s ready for some Mortal Kombat?! *Excited kids screaming happily as Scorpion and Sub Zero mascots show up* Alien: *Rolls over table and proceeds to remove Sub Zero’s head* Alien: FATALITY!!! *Kids start screaming and running away again* Human: Alright, that one was partly on me.

[stop-talking]

Mike & Abby Easter Headcannons

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

• Mike always hides eggs for her. Without fail. Every year. He probably enjoys hiding them more than she enjoys finding them, honestly.

• He's super annoying about not just TELLING her where one is when she can't find it, he'll just go "warmer..." or "colder...!" until she gets fed up and throws empty plastic eggshells at him.

• Abby knows the Easter bunny isn't real. She's not dumb. But it's a fun tradition, and she's willing to play pretend for as long as Mike is.

• Mike never busy himself any Easter candy. He "doesn't need the extra calories". Yet every year without fail, he ends up bumming Abby for candy, stealing a chocolate here and there. (She acts annoyed, but secretly doesn't mind sharing.)

• The first time Mike showed Abby the "draw with white crayon on an egg before dyeing it and the dye won't stick there" trick, she thought he was magic. Now, she draws a doodle on every single egg before dunking it in the colored water. Mike always makes comments on how they look "too good to eat," then eats one before they're even done dying them anyways.

• Once he forgot where he hid one of the hard boiled eggs... until it stank up the front porch. He nearly gagged when he found it two weeks later, tucked into an old flowerpot.

• Easter is like, the one time a year Mike drags Abby to church... If only for the giant egg hunt they host. He definitely has some kind of religious guilt from not going more often, but he's just too busy and tired. (He used to use Abby as an excuse, since she refused to sit still when she was younger. Now that she's older, he could go, but just doesn't care to. Neither does Abby.)

• (Post-movie) He and Abby happened to run into someone dressed as the Easter bunny outside of, like Walmart. And it just so happened to be a YELLOW bunny. Mike jumped two feet in the air and nearly pissed himself, and Abby just laughed at him. The guy in the costume thought it was hilarious to see a grown man so scared of a bunny, and the high-five he gave Abby made Mike just want to punch him. He didn't, thankfully.

How Mike would treat his 💙partner💙 on Easter:

(slight NSFW warning)

• He'd definitely make you an Easter basket. Nothing super fancy or expensive, he spends most of his budget on Abby. But he'd make sure you feel included and appreciated.

• Your basket would include: Your favorite candy, a pack of gum, something related to one of your hobbies, (ex: guitar pick, yarn, nail polish, colored pencils, etc), a cheesy hand-written note, a few plastic eggs with candy, a small stuffed animal, and a savory snack, like chips or pretzels. He's attentive, and knows what you prefer.

• Depending on how long you've been dating, he might even throw in something a little raunchy... like a pack of flavored condoms, lube, or a "toy". More as a gift to himself than you.

• He'd absolutely let you spend Easter with him and Abby, but wouldn't pressure you if you wanted to be with your family. If YOU invited HIM to spend the day with YOUR family, though? He'd fucking melt. ESPECIALLY if they were warm and welcoming to him. It'd make him cry like a baby to see Abby getting along with the other kids.

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

Happy Easter to those who celebrate!! I thought about writing a whole fic on this but just don't have time. If anyone wants to steal these ideas, be my guest. Love y'all!! ���

[superfan44]

Why Sora Should be Treated the Same as Superman (An Opinion Piece)

As I get older, I'm able to look at various fictional characters more closely, understanding more about why they're so iconic. A few years ago, I gained a renewed interest in the Kingdom Hearts franchise, seeing why so many people love its story, characters, and of course, its crossover element with Disney and Final Fantasy. I want to take a little look at the franchise's main protagonist, Sora, shed a light on him if you will. I feel you could draw some similarities between him and the DC Comics hero Superman (aka Kal-El, aka Clark Kent).

Now, I know this may seem like an odd comparison to some of you, but personally, I think it does kind of make sense when you think about it. Obviously these two have very different personalities, backstories, powers, and motivations that drive them. However, both are kindhearted, optimistic heroes from humble beginnings, with a strong sense of justice and morality. Not to mention a desire to help others and do the right thing.

Their respective actions certainly speak for themselves on that front, as they each go about it in their own unique way. In the comic book All-Star Superman, one issue sees him fighting a group of lizard men invading from the Earth's core. Then, in another issue, we see him stop a depressed teenage girl from stepping off a building, giving her comfort and support. Yes, he's got super strength and godlike powers, but he's also considerate, compassionate, and gentle enough to offer a helping hand whenever needed. Superman is a hero who inspires the best in all of us. He is, as filmmaker James Gunn once put it, kindness in a world that sees kindness as old fashioned. Even though he lives on a planet he wasn't born on, he still aspires to bring hope to that planet, providing them a light to show the way. Krypton made him the man of steel, but Earth made him human.

There are moments in the Kingdom Hearts series where we see a bit of that kindness mirrored in Sora as well. One minute he would be cutting down Heartless with his keyblade, the next he'll be enjoying good times with his friends, old and new. Whether it's dancing around with Rapunzel in the Kingdom of Corona, visiting Winnie the Pooh and his pals in the 100 Acre Wood, or helping to make Boo laugh in Monstropolis. He protects the world order and fights against the forces of evil, but he's also having fun along the way. There's a playfulness to Sora, a big smile on his face that warms people up inside. He's a brave young man who can easily form connections with anyone he comes across. There are still hardships to face, but he perseveres through it, showing that deep down, there is a light that never goes out. Even when it seems like he's on the verge of giving up, his friends are there to inspire him and lift him back up, just as he had done for them. He follows his heart, which is, and has always been, his guiding key.

You could say that these similarities are due to the fact that Sora and Superman are very much archetypal heroes. Joseph Cambel's hero's journey cycle (which also heavily influenced Star Wars) can be seen in both of their respective journeys. Individuals from humble beginnings who venture out into the wide world ahead of them, encountering various allies, enemies, and obstacles along the way. The journey ultimately leads to the heroes gaining greater powers and becoming more than who they were before.

It's also worth noting that another thing Superman and Sora have in common is that sometimes they are both willing to take great risks in order to save the people that they love. In Superman: The Movie, the man of steel himself flies around the Earth at great speed, turning back time to save Lois Lane from an earthquake. In Kingdom Hearts 3, Sora uses the power of waking to bring back Kairi after her body was destroyed by Xehanort, sacrificing his own life in the process.

So, why do I bring all of this up? Because I believe that this is something that writers should keep in mind when tackling Sora, whether it's for fan fiction, comics, novels, etc. I've noticed this trend on the internet of people deconstructing the psychology of Sora and delving into the negative effects that his adventures have had on him. A few of them have even declared his optimism and playful smile as a form of "toxic positivity". While it does seem like an interesting idea, I feel like it's causing people to forget about why they love him in the first place. In some cases, there are those who end up going too far with that notion.

Not long ago, I stumbled upon a Kingdom Hearts fan fiction story titled Keys to the Kingdom. Basically, it reads as an alternate universe reimagining of the events of Kingdom Hearts 3. Even though it was well written, this version of the story gets extremely dark, depressing, and cynical. Not only that, but it also mistreats Sora in a somewhat disturbing way, portraying him as a tortured and tormented soul. While his arc in this does prove to be compelling at times, it was still very jarring, making for an overall unpleasant experience. The fic seemed to be so focused on beating this character down, so intent on having him suffer throughout, that it ends up losing sight of what makes him so endearing and likable. Or, to borrow a quote from the young keyblade wielder himself:

"You're so caught up in finding the shadows, you forgot about the light that cast them."

This doesn't feel too out of place with the "evil Superman" trend that was around for a period of time. The video game Injustice is a prime example of this, as it depicts Superman as a merciless dictator of a fascist regime, who rules with an iron fist and shows no compassion towards crime or his enemies. Even other creations like Homelander from The Boys and Omni-Man from Invincible are representations of this idea since they are basically evil Superman-types. Admittedly, I do give those two a little more leeway since they were made specifically for the stories they came from. They are not directly related to Superman other than having similar powers. Although this concept can be fun to tackle with an original character, I don't think it feels right to try to do it with the genuine article himself. That's not really who he is.

When making the first Superman movie back in 1978, director Richard Donner took it upon himself to do the big blue boy scout justice. He didn’t want the material to be treated with disrespect, nor to be seen as a joke. There's a word he used to emphasize this as a top priority: "verisimilitude". For those unfamiliar, the basic definition of it is the appearance of being true and real. Not only was that word hung up on the wall above Donner's office (which it was), but it also established the mission statement that many of the great superhero movies made in the years since then have followed:

Be truthful, honor the source material, believe in it, take it seriously.

This is the type of mindset that should be adopted by anyone who adapts any kind of preexisting work, especially when it comes to something like Kingdom Hearts. If you want a good example of how to write Sora in a way that showcases how great he is while also being faithful to who he is, there's another fan fiction story titled Starbound, created by my friend @skygent. An anthology with an overarching narrative mixed in, it uses the setup of Sora's disappearance at the end of Kingdom Hearts 3 as a way to examine the impact that he's had on all of his friends and allies. In a deeper, meta sense, it offers an analysis of the connection that fans of the franchise itself have formed with him.

The stuff that has been written so far for this fic is absolutely amazing. In fact, it's what led to my renewed interest in Kingdom Hearts in the first place. It has pretty much what you would want in a story like this one. Balancing a sense of scale, mystery, and adventure, but also quiet reflection. Offering some fun little twists, but still retaining the core essence of what the source material is all about. Through this story, we see various characters (including some not featured in the games) learning of and reacting to Sora's disappearance, remembering their encounters with him in the past. Some of them are even inspired to try and figure out where he is, willing to doing whatever it takes to help find him and bring him back home. Here, they demonstrate just how much he means to them, just as they all do to him.

To be clear, I'm not saying that Sora should stay exactly the same. In a series like Kingdom Hearts, we want to see those characters grow and evolve. With the things that Sora has experienced throughout the series, and with where we will find him at in Kingdom Hearts 4, it'll be interesting to see where he goes next. At the same time though, we also should remind ourselves that people love this character for a reason. As this young hero embarks on his newest adventure, he shouldn't lose what makes him who he is as a person. Instead of pulling him apart, I think Sora is someone who deserves to be celebrated. To be treated with dignity and respect, just as Donner did for the last son of Krypton. In the same way we've celebrated Superman over the years for what he stands for and represents, Sora should also be recognized in an equally similar way. Their respective core values and good morals, all the stuff that makes them heroes. It's these things that turned them into pop culture icons who remain with us to this day. It's why they will continue to be icons in the foreseeable future.

Two beacons, shining bright in the darkness. Never forget that.

[sillysickfics192]

blanket forts

Aiden was trying to fall asleep. But he couldn’t. He had just returned from the shadow realm for the night. Well not “just”. He had returned almost two hours ago, after seven hours in the other dimension. Ideally, he would come back from the shadow dimension and wake up to the beep of his alarm in the morning, sleeping through the night. However, this night, he woke up almost immediately after returning to his normal body. the whole two bodies thing was still confusing to aiden. He never really understood it, especially since he was not paying attention at all when it was being explained to him by Logan. He tried so hard to go back to sleep, but he was having a hard time. He was flooded with stress from the other dimension. They had to find a way out of this mess. And yet, they hadn’t. 

He lay awake for ten more minutes, before texting their group chat.

“anyone up?”

-

“anyone up?” Logan read, the glow of the screen hurting his eyes in the dark. 

“I am.” He texted back. Logan too could not sleep. even with how much he tried, it wasn’t working.

“come over” Aiden said. No question, just a statement, a demand maybe.  Logan thought about it. He was wearing a sleep shirt and comfy shorts, but he could go out in it. His parents had left him home alone, while they visited his grandparents in canada. Logan wished he could’ve gone, but he worried about leaving with the whole shadow dimension and phantom thing. So, he convinced his parents to let him stay, saying how he had tests at school and needed to study and he was old enough and blah blah blah, which his parents eventually gave in to and let him stay at home alone. He didn’t think it would be so bad, but he’s lonely. Aiden is home alone a lot as well, his parents always traveling. Aiden isn’t lonely anymore now that he has Ben, but Ben goes to bed really early every night, waking up early to make breakfast and go for a run. Atleast, that’s what Aiden thought he did, since he preferred to go to bed late and sleep in. So in the night, that familiar feeling of loneliness floods back.

-

Logan arrived at Aiden’s house, with only his phone in hand. Aiden answered the door, letting him into his nice house and leading him to the couch. They shared a look, acknowledging that it was two in the morning and neither of them had slept. Why? Probably for the same reason as well. Stress. They were both stressed by this whole thing. Afraid even. Although neither boy would admit it out loud, it was the truth, and they both knew. 

“Let’s watch a movie.” Aiden suggested, turning on the huge flat screen tv, sending aiden to fetch some blankets and pillows.

Logan came back with a whole bunch of blankets and pillows from the hall cabinet. 

“Woah, that’s enough for a fort. Say, that’s not a bad idea. Let’s make one and then watch our movie. Logan was excited by the idea, already beginning to plan out how to create a perfect fort.

Logan explained his fort strategy, which Aiden didn’t quite grasp.

“I don’t really get it.”

“It’s not really that hard.”

“Whatever nerd, just tell me what to do” Aiden teased.

Once their cleverly designed fort was built they tried to pick a movie.

“What kind of movie do we want to watch?”

“I don’t know, nothing scary.”

The old Aiden would’ve called him a chicken. But this Aiden doesn’t want to watch a scary movie. Every night is like a scary movie for them.

���Okay, well what’s a movie you watched as a kid that’s still good?”

“I can’t think of anything.”

“Have you heard of the Inbestigators?”

Logan shook his head.

“It came out on Netflix when we were like eleven. I haven’t really told anyone about this, but i still watch it sometimes, to relax. It’s about these little Australian kids who solve mysteries. Except on like “What happened to my purse? Or, I think these kids are cheating on a test!” And they all solve it. If you don’t want to watch I totally get it, it’s a kids show anyway.” Aiden braced himself to be made fun of.

“Sounds fun. Let’s give it a try.” Logan says, getting comfy in his spot in the fort.

The episode begins. They watch one, laughing at the stupid jokes that are obviously aimed at kids, but are still funny to the sleep deprived teens.

After the first two episodes, Logan comments, 

“Seems like that girl, what’s her name? mildred-“

“”-Maude.” Aiden corrects.

“Seems like she solves all the mysteries.”

“Yeah she kinda does. She’s the smart one in the group. Like you.”

Logan blushes at the compliment from a friend.

The next episode starts, and he shifts himself closer to Aiden, who wraps a comforting arm around the smaller boy. 

That’s how Ben finds them in the morning, the tv screen reading “Are you still watching?”, smiling at the boys friendly cuddling.

🫶

request from @livingponcho

[baby-alien11]

Needles and Stitches

Chad Meeks-Martin x Fem reader

A/N: I had appendicitis two years ago, and I can't forget that experience so I'm putting it in some of my fics (wattpad and here)

warnings: hospital and all things related, fluff, reader being under the effects of anesthesia and meds

After everything that happened months ago in Woodsboro, Chad didn't want to step into a hospital ever again

But here he is, by your side while they were prepparing you for appendicitis surgery

It all started three days ago when in the middle of a study session in the library when you started to get strong headaches which made Chad worried, but you minimized the situation saying it was because of stress

The next day, while you and Chad were in the middle of a make out ssession in his dorm, you stopped the kiss the moment you felt a pain in your right side of the abdomen

"What's wrong baby?", Chad asked with concern, "Are you okay?"

"I think I ate something in bad state", you responded with your face hidden in Chad's bare shoulder holding your right side

"Hey, what if we just lay down and I bring you some medicine?", Chad suggested circling your waist with his arms, "Does it sounds good?"

"Yeah", you answered in a low voice

Carefully, Chad lift you from his lap to left you in the bed covering you with the bedsheets before standing and searching for the medicine

The next symptomes were the lack of hunger and fever, along with the pain in the abdomen that didn't stop with meds

So, tricking you into thinking that you were going on a breakfast date, Chad took you to the infirmary campus were after several tests they took you to the hospital to get appendicitis surgery

"I still want my breakfast date", you said getting out of the bathroom with the hospital gown on

"First we need to get your appendix out", Chad responded helping you get to the hospital bed, "I already told the group, Sam said she is coming right now and the others are coming after classes"

"I can't believe I'm having appendicitis at 19 years old"

"Well, the doctor said this was the limit age, and if you think about it, this organ doesn't have an utility at this point"

"Since when do you know all about this stuff?", you joked

"I read everything about the appendix on the way here", he answered making you laugh, "Hey, everything is going to be fine, okay?"

"I know, it's just that I don't like needles"

"Hey, if I survived being stabbed last year, you can survive an appendix about to explode"

"I can't belive you actually compare both situations", you laughed in disbelief

In that moment, the nurse returned with the things to prepare you for the surgery; during the IV placement, Chad held your other hand and covered your eyes so you don't see the needle in your hand

During the whole way to the surgery room, Chad didn't let go your hand giving you assurasing words, leaving kisses in your forehead and lips before getting separated

Openning your eyes after what felt like the longest nap you've ever taken, you noticed that you were back in your hospital room, and the whole friend group was there too

"I'm back", you said in low and raspy voice

That phrase made everyone get closer to you bed with concern

"I'll call the doctor", Sam said pressing the button next to the bed

"How you feeling?", Chad asked sitting in the bord of the bed

"Sleepy and empty", you answered

"Yeah, they took a whole organ out of you", Quinn joked, "Actually is in here"

"What?", you asked in confussion

In response, Tara showed you a small plastic cup with you appendix floating in liquid making you frown with disgust

"Who would think that this small organ could kill anyone", Tara commented

"It looks like a cheeto", Ethan pointed

"I would say a shrimp", Anika continued

"Looks more like the parasite of REC", Mindy followed, "Like the one in the original movies, not the remakes"

"I can't believe you are making fun of my appendix", you scoffed

"Well, it's out so is no longer part of you", Chad said, "But you are going to feel well from now on"

Interrupting the conversation, the doctor and a nurse entered to the room, which made the whole group get apart from the bed except for Chad who stayed by your side holding your needleless hand

"Hi, Y/N, how are you feeling?", the doctor asked while the nurse checked your vitals, "Any pain?"

"From the inside no, but my stitches hurt a bit"

"That's normal, but we still going to give you some medication for the pain, you are going to stay for the night and tomorrow you can leave, liquid diet for the next week, complete rest for three weeks or a month until the scar is completely cured, I will remove the stitches in a week from now", the doctor instructed

"What do you mean by liquid diet?", Chad asked with a notebook and pen in hand

"Juice, water, tea, fruit, soup, jelly, things like that", the doctor answered, "Nothing to strong for her stomach, and be careful while taking showers because of the stitches, if someone could help you, the better"

"We would take care of her", Sam spoke

After a few moments, the doctor and the nurse left, leaving the friend group alone

"I really wanted a burger", you comented making everyone laugh