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nerdieforpedro · 11 months ago

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Sard'ika Sessions

Session Four

Din Djarin x plus size female reader

Fanfiction 18+

Sard'ika Sessions Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Din Djarin/The Mandalorian Masterlist

Word Count: approx 2.9k

Summary: The anticipation is high before the fourth session starts and communication is key. You're eager that another session begins soon and so is Din. It turns out he's even built something for this session. A promise is made between the two of you, intertwining your passions further.

Warnings: Angst! (because I'm mean sometimes), beskar kink (at this point - it is), thigh riding, restraints, non-canon Mandalorian lore, Din being a soft Dom, HANDS, fingering, edging, aftercare

Notes: I tried something a little different in this chapter and created a sub-culture within Mandalorian culture to have some freak in them. They're an entire clan of people who use and worship weapons. I'd be more surprised if no one ever thought "Hey, can you put that in there?" Since humans have been asking that since the dawn of time. Two more weeks Space Buddies! 🖤 Also I didn't have this one beta read but I did run some ideas by @legendary-pink-dotand she helped me sort things out.

The two of you had worked out that you’d have forty-eight hours together in a week.. The Mandalorian took a bail jumper bounty in the meantime while you continued to work at the guild, counting down the hours. Day one through three wasn’t bad, you were still in the afterglow of the last session. Despite the mishap that occurred during your last encounter with your Mandalorian, he was not only coming back to see you, but has guaranteed forty eight hours of his undivided attention.

Day two through seven was worse because you knew the following you’d have him to yourself - a warrior feared in multiple star systems. It made you a bit more giddy than normal and your co-workers took notice, not that they hadn’t picked up on subtle changes. A steady confidence in dealing with different hunters that usually would push your buttons more easily followed by swift exits to your home. They teased you about a lover which you denied harshly because it was an agreement between your Mandalorian and yourself.

With Din as he had told you to call him.

Day four had been especially difficult because he came to claim his reward for the bail jumper and mentioned needing to speak to you outside when you were on your break. After exchanging his credits and going outside to secure the jumper who was on carbonate, you told your colleagues that you were going to take a short respite. No more than ten minutes. That wasn’t unusual, so you went around the side of the guild where Din leaned against the wall. Your steps were slow toward him, really you felt like running but didn’t want to kick up a suspicious amount of dust you’d have to get off your uniform later. Your Mandalorian nodded in your direction and turned to face during your approach and reached out both of his hands, holding them when you stood before him.

“You wanted to talk?” You asked, you wanted to use his given name, but felt that except when you two were alone and without the possibility of eavesdroppers, it should not be used. His thumbs stroked the back of your hands, pressing into them slightly and he kept shifting his weight between his feet. Normally, he was steady and still. Was he nervous? About what?

“Sard’ika, a few things. I will need access to your home. I was able to customize something we can use to benefit us both. The final setup will need to take place in your home, preferably when you are at work to not spoil the surprise on the day before we are to have our fourty-eight hours together. Is this alright?” He questioned softly, he realized that he was making an odd request, but he believed what he said to be the truth and he did have a promise to keep. Din did not want a repeat of what happened during their last session. He told her that he would prepare her and that’s what he planned to do. He heard you chuckle,

“That’s fine Din. I’m looking forward to it. I-” Din studied your face, ‘she’s thinking about something again will she tell me?’ His mind starts to run through appropriate responses but then he remembers you haven’t finished your thought.

“Yes Sard’ika?” He held your hands a little tighter, not squeezing them, just firm to let you know it’s okay to tell him whatever it is. You look directly at his visor, when you do that, he feels like you’re looking at him and seeing him. The Mandalorian is rationally aware that it’s impossible, but feelings are telling him something entirely different.

“Din. I know our last sessions had its issues, but I want you to know and remember that I trust you. I take it whatever you’re going to set up I shouldn’t peek at until it’s ready?” You suggested and he nodded, “I just,” you step closer to him, almost chest to chest. You want to press yourself against his beskar but resist the urge. You’re outside and need to go back to work. “I’m glad you came back and are willing to continue our sessions.” You pause, unsure if you want to voice it.

Din releases your hands and places them on your shoulders, touching his helmet to your forehead as he’s done many times now. He infers what you mean and understands the hesitation. The two of you have become someone more than just session partners but haven’t discussed what any of it may mean, especially after the last session where it likely would have been easy to leave. He knew he couldn’t though, he needed to draw you close and ensure he hadn’t hurt you. Beyond that, he envisioned you writhing with pleasure from him, from what he was able to strum from your body. There were times he thought of you aboard the Razor Crest, holding Grogu as the three of you traveled to parts of the galaxy known. But he felt it was much too soon for those types of conversations. The Mandalorian still felt he needed to convince you that he wasn’t going to seek his carnal pleasures elsewhere.

“Sard’ika. I would not have left you and especially now, I want you to experience losing yourself. I will not betray your trust. Take care during your shift.” He stood back to his full height, tears formed in your eyes and you sniffled. Closing your eyes enabled you to hold back the waterworks to wave goodbye before returning to work completely unfocused. Din watched as you walked away, determined to have you reach an exalted state.

Day seven came and you went to work like normal, but when you came home, Din was there. He greeted you at your door and ushered you in. It was perplexing, you knew he was going to be there but it was still a surprise for it to actually happen. After removing your shoes and getting something to drink, you headed into your bedroom and saw some large piece of equipment in the middle of the room. It was covered by a large black sheet, as tempting as it was to peek, you promised you wouldn’t so you refrained and showered. Din ate when he heard the water in the refresher, he had eaten lunch when he arrived and put the equipment together but it was dinnertime and his stomach growled. He made the mistake of entering your bedroom to grab one of the toy bags that he was going to double check, but saw you naked body from the back, standing in front of the dresser getting a gown out he assumed to put on. You looked back at him, and turned to face him. You did not cover yourself and walked toward the middle of the room. Din held his hand up to indicate it wasn’t time yet. He was a stickler for staying on time.

The session began that evening right at midnight with Din sitting on the edge of the bed similar to your first time and your thighs spread over his beskar. The contrast of your warm flesh and cool metal combined with the friction as he moved his right knee up and down to have you bounce against it. Work yourself into a sopping frenzy, gripping his shoulder pauldrons to rock yourself. It was when the rough fabric of Din’s gloves circles your clit that you screamed his name, pressing yourself against his chestplate. His large hand was in the middle of your back, steadying you as the climax washed over you. Once, you had settled you went to move off his thigh and he continued to hold you close.

“Not yet Sard’ika. I’m going to have you sit elsewhere.” He then allowed you to sit on the bed as he stood and took a few steps toward the appliance in the middle of the room. It was quite large and you don’t know if he had put it together here or maybe he did some finishing touches before bringing it in. Pulling the black sheet off, he folded it and retrieved a bag of toys before returning to it and extending his hand to signal to step over to him.

Its size is what shocked you first. It looked like a basic chair except wide you thought to accommodate her hips, but it was tipped back slightly with stirrups at the top and bottom? Were the things at the top stirrups? There were leather buckles though so maybe not. It looked like there were two different levers near the bottom and two gears in the base of the chair that she could see. “Din, what is it exactly?” You asked, genuinely confused, you still stepped forward and took his hand.

Your reaction wasn’t unexpected, most are unaware of what the modified device was used for. Originally, it was built to extract information from enemies of Mandalore but as with most discoveries, a second purpose was found. Turns out, depending on the inclinations of the being in the chair, it would be used to bring pleasure. As Mandalorians focused more on their weapons and arms, such devices fell by the wayside but in Din’s travels he had come to know some clans of Mandalorians who used such devices between paramours and riduurs. He reasoned that he could use this to have you focus so set sensations while better pinpointing what your spots were. “Meshla, you do trust me do you not?” Your nod serves as confirmation as he sat you down, holding your hands as he did earlier that day.

“I will restrain and stretch you a bit, but it won’t be painful. Just a bit uncomfortable. The goal is to identify more of your pleasurable centers so I can utilize them before entering you.” The explanation was reasonable and at this point, you were a bit curious to see what he’d be able to do with contraption. Din had you move your butt all the way back into the curve of the chair and the lean back, raising your arms back and over your head, He secured them snuggly into the leather bands, he was able to fit one finger in between your skin and the leather so as to not chafe you. His visor settled on your breasts, rising and falling with your chest, he then looked at your face and hummed as he does when he’s pleased. Your face is watching him, curious but not anxious as you had been. For this is grateful, he doesn’t want to frighten you. Pulling up your plush stuffed chair, he sat in front of you watching as your nipples hardened under his gaze, waiting for him to do something, but he is stoic.

The silence tells him that you do trust him after all.

He lifts your left leg and sets it on the flat metal bar that extends to the stirrups where the heel of your foot goes. He leaves your right leg slack, removes his gloves and traces the curve of your face, continuing to watch your body react. Aware of the effect of his hands on your skin, his hands move to your breasts and he supports their weight. Thumbs circle your tender nipples earning a soft moan from you before one hand palms your stomach, having you wiggle your hips slightly.

“Sard’ika, be as loud as you like. It’s only the two of us in here.” He spied a small pool of arousal in the base of the chair and was pleased. Swiping two fingers down, pressing them into your skin before arriving at your inner thigh and cupping your cunt, not inserting any of his fingers. Just letting your slick coat his hand and his second one left your breast, cupping your face to have his visor face you. “Say my name Meshla.” Two fingers plunged into your dripping hole with little resistance.

“Din! Yes, please…more Din.” A small nod after your plea was rewarded with slow pumps inside of you, your hips kept still at first, but then started rolling with his fingers, using both the restraints and your one foot that he decided not to bind. Din’s hands teased both your breast and core, adding a third finger to stretch you, testing for your reaction. You groaned slightly, but continued to ride his fingers, “Maker they’re so thick, Din-Din-Din…” You began repeating his name over and over, twisting your body to find a deeper angle, but your Mandalorian curled his fingers within you and you stopped for a moment at the new sensation. He scanned your face, looking for any discomfort and when he didn’t see any, moved them even faster and coupled it with pressing his thumb to your small bundle of nerves circling it. Screaming his name, you rode his fingers slowly, stopping when the waves stopped, your head hung temporally before he tilted up.

“Perfect Sard’ika. I could continue to watch you use my hands for hours.” A deep chuckle leaves his helmet and both sets of your lips quiver, he didn’t remove his fingers so he spreads them out as much as your walls will allow which isn’t very far.

“Din, I can’t just have your fingers alone. I need more.”

“I have a request then. While we continue to have our sessions, let no other touch you like this.” A thumb grazes your sensitive clit and you hiss. “They will not see the expressions, hear the carnal melodies of your body,” Din pressed his helmet to your forehead as his fingers started moving slowly again, “feel the soft flesh that forms around me, enveloping me, nor shall they know what glorious whimpers you possess.” Your hands form fists as you long to press yourself against his beskar, sit yourself in his lap as you had before and be closer to him. The restraints which hadn’t bothered you were a sudden hindrance, the squeals of pleasure he was pulling from your sensitive cunt mixed with his deep tone had you on the verge of your second orgasm, but he stopped.

“Din, why, Maker why?!” You yelled in frustration, he tilted his helmet and you huffed, aware he was edging you even more.

“Sard’ika tell me you understand? Do you agree? You may try to ride my fingers, but the result will not be the same.” The smirk was evident from his voice just to spite him, you tried to ride his fingers and he kept them still, painfully still to where you stopped after a few flicks of your hips.

“Din, you’re…I understand and agree. There’s no one else. The same goes for you as well, correct?” Your eyes trained on his visor as he remained silent. Then, he pulled his fingers out until only the tips were left.

“You would be correct Cyar’ika. No one else gives me any desire to attempt such things. I wonder if I’ve gone mad at times.” A quick thrust upward makes your back curve from suddenly being filled again by him, the warmth scratching the pulsing itch inside of you. “And even more worrying is that I am fine being mad if it means I can be the only one who sees you like this and the only one who hears. No others for me as well.” Din speaks your name softly in contrast with how roughly his fingers are writhing within you, he doesn’t say your name often but when he does sends a spark down your spine and a second orgasm washes over you more intensely than the first. Your eyes flutter this time around and your body more slack.

Din stands and releases your wrists and ankle, revealing slight marks on your wrists but nothing that should last more than a few days. Your body felt like jelly, barely staying on the chair. Din felt you slump and supported your torso with one arm and slipped another arm under your legs, carrying you over to the bed and setting you down. Your arms reached weakly for him, barely reaching his shoulders. “Relax Sard’ika. You need to rest before we continue. We’ve got plenty of time, this is just the first day.” Allowing your arms to drop back to the bed, you relaxed and Din covered you with blankets, pulling them up to your neck.

The Mandalorian retrieved some towels to clean the chair and sat at the edge of the bed, watching your sleeping form. He then makes his way to your kitchen and removes his helmet, making himself some soup and eating some leftover food from your fridge. Din made sure to keep an eye on your bedroom door. He closed it when he left you sleeping, but remained vigilant in case you woke up. Upon finishing his meal, he washed the dishes and tried them, putting them back and returned his helmet to its proper place over his head. Din spread himself across your couch and looked up at the ceiling. How much further was he willing to take this? How far did he want to take these sessions? She would ask eventually to see more of him, to know more of him. What was he willing to reveal to her and how long would this continue?

Questions that swirled around in Din’s mind before his eyes closed to rest.

Previous: Session Three

Next: Session Five

Space Buddies tag list: @rhoorl @for-a-longlongtime @trulybetty @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @maggiemayhemnj @missladym1981 @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @morallyinept @sherala007 @yorksgirl @beabliss-deactivated20231205 @daddy-dins-girl @mandoisapunk @saturn-rings-writes @magpiepills @mrsmando @djarins-cyare @goodwithcheese @fhatbhabie @beefrobeefcal @sp00kymulderr @laurfilijames @secretelephanttattoo @megamindsecretlair @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @anoverwhelmingdin @theincredibleinkspitter

#pedro pascal characters #fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #din djarin #the mandalorian #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x plus size reader #din djarin x reader #Sard’ika Sessions #din djarin smut

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lu-inlondon · 2 years ago

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Hob has to admit that, even though he tries to stay up to date with current trends, his taste in music never much got the memo. But that's always been the case. It is terribly annoying to get into something, twenty years after he could have had the live experience.

Or, in this case, fourty years. Though he had liked the music in the eighties well enough at the time.

It's Saturday morning and despite the mountain of housework he has to get through if he intends to find any of his stuff or dishes to eat from in the last week of exams, he is in a fantastic mood. The weather took a turn for cold and rainy but his flat is cosy and warm, he managed to find an unused cup to make himself some tea and a playlist with all the 80's hits is playing in the background.

Of course, this is not the sole reason for his good mood. It doesn't even cover a fraction of the reason why he looks like the sun's shining out of his arse at seven on his first proper day off in weeks.

Before Hob's never been one to remember much of his dreams. Ever since he and Dream were sort of dating (they hadn't discussed the terms and conditions yet, and as long as both of them were happy as is, he didn't feel the need to push the topic) that happened more and more. Just last night, he'd spent a part of his sleep walking with Dream through his realm, being shown around and introduced to a variety of creatures.

It had been utterly fascinating!

The best part though was that Dream had let slip, that he had been working more in the last days so that he might spend today with Hob in the Waking World. He knew that - aside from some housework - Hob intended to do nothing but laze around.

So of course he's in a good mood, belting along to a playlist that at least somewhat betrays his age. How else can it be?

(Hob had also noticed that the number of 80's songs circling the topic of dreams was surprisingly high. He had never noticed that before but now it made him think of Dream all the time, painting a big smile on his lips.)

It's his luck that the inn's still closed and no one is around for a noise complaint, because with questionable synth pop he gets through his dishes in record time. Cleaning the bath is done in a fraction of the time it usually takes him - only delayed by the thought if he could persuade Dream to relax in the tub together - and the feather duster that's no longer made of actual feathers makes a wonderful improvised microphone for his one-man interpretation of Sweet Dreams.

Which is, unbeknownst to Hob, how his own Dream finds him.

The song ends and Hob uses the brief interlude before the next one starts to actually dust off some of his books. He knows that one too, and he can't help but grin because of course it reminds him of Dream.

He stumbles over the first few lines until he catches the rhythm, swaying to it, moving on to the next bookshelf.

There's not a minute, hour, day or night that I don't love you You're at the top of my list 'cause I'm always thinkin' of you

Further into the song, he's much more secure lyric-wise, and even though he knows his voice is croaky at best - missing the whiskey he uses to prepare for karaoke nights at the pub - he gives it his all.

Yes, Dream is absolutely on top of his list of things he plans to do today, even if that sounds a bit crude. And he has been thinking about him for the past two hours, his thoughts never straying far from the entity/man because as soon as his mind wandered to other things, the music in the background conveniently reminded him of his love.

Not that Hob minds. Quite the opposite actually. He just hopes his daydreams made it to his love's realm so that he might profit a bit from Hob's good mood.

He throws himself into the beginning of the chorus - a thousand kisses are most certainly not enough - spinning around to get to the next bit of his living room, when he finds Dream standing in the corner, watching him with a bemused smile.

Now, at this point, he probably should stop singing, but then again Hob's never been afraid to make an arse out of himself in the name of love. And he knows that Dream - even though he won't admit to it - loves cheesy displays of affection. The cheesier, the better, in fact, and Hob has had more than six centuries to practice.

So, non-feather duster repurposed to serve as a microphone again, he grins at Dream. Trying to get a laugh out of his love makes Hob do a very exaggerated and nearly indecent wriggle with his hips as the second verse begins.

He doesn't have to go to work today but that's neither here nor there as he yells at the top of his lungs:

Well, who needs to go to work to hustle for another dollar I'd rather be with you 'cause you make my heart scream and holler

It does not elicit one of Dream's rare laughs, but Hob gets a fond shake of the head for his troubles.

Well, that won't do. He can be even worse and thankfully the chorus is starting again.

Only in socks, he slides across his hardwood floor, performing a spin that nearly sends him tumbling into his coffee table. Dream grabs him before Hob can hurt himself, and he uses it to immediately draw Dream into his arms.

The feather duster is quickly discarded in favour of holding Dream close and trying to get him to swing to the rhythm too. He's reluctant, but Hob's nothing if not stubborn, and not even - or especially - the collective unconsciousness can't withstand his charms, slowly beginning to move with him.

A thousand kisses from you is never too much

Hob croons along to the music, closing his eyes to really give it his all. When he opens them, Dream is smirking at him.

"Well, that really is not that much," he says with barely contained amusement.

"So you agree then?" Hob asks, his cheeks starting to hurt from how wide he's grinning. "I knew you were a smart one."

Before Dream can say anything along the lines of just how much knowledge he contains, Hob places a quick kiss on his lips. Might not be that much, but it's a start.

By then, the chorus has started up again, and he can belt the line that really makes him heady.

A million days in your arms is never too much I just don't wanna stop

Dream crooks his head, looking at him with brightly shining eyes. As stoic as his expression might be, Hob knows what the slow twinkle in the starry eyes of his love means.

"You know that is more than two thousand and seven hundred years, yes?" Dream asks carefully, and even though he doesn't mention it out loud, Hob knows that there's a deeper meaning to the question.

He could question it, but he won't allow for either of their worries about doomed past relationships to ruin this perfectly good day that's about to get even better if he has a say in the matter.

"Yup," he informs his love carefully carding his fingers through the mess of black hair on Dream's head to pull him closer. "Still isn't enough though, love."

The kiss that follows borders on desperate. He isn't quite sure if this is Dream's doing or his own, but he hopes it gets his point across: What's two thousand and seven hundred years when he wants to spend eternity with this impossible being in his arms?

Hob's loved him for six centuries, what's twenty-seven more?

They break from their kiss mostly for his benefit so he can catch his breath, the blush high on Dream's cheeks nearly making him lose it again. The song's long over, the next one on the playlist is nearly done as well, but Hob couldn't care less. He's done cleaning and he wants to spend the rest of this day - and every single one that follows - holding Dream and kissing him.

His love doesn't seem to mind, safe for one request:

"Can we listen to it again?"

@karalynlovescake I offer you fluff to make up for the 80's angst from last time

#writing tag: the sandman #my stuff #dreamling #hob gadling #dream of the endless #dream x hob #dreamling playlist ficlets #see I even remembered to put the song in the post!#songfic #I had many feelings about this but I left out the angsty part #listen to it and think about the 'When I was scared to touch you' part for the angst #it fits them very well I think #Spotify

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lucreziaq2001 · 1 year ago

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•TV show: "Criminal minds".

•Content warnings: Five people having believed their friend/acquaintance committed suicide for almost fourty years, a president's assassination, a young girl's death happening that same day, people "being rude" to their former friend/acquaintance because he is an alcoholic and some of them refusing to talk about the girl who died at first.

•A person I met on Wattpad helped me write this, so the credits for this chapter also go to that girl. I can't tag her on here, though.

•Tags: @lex13cm, @golden1u5t, @avis-writeshq, @chrrysgirl, @hugyourlungs, @achillmango, @marie-sworld, @iluvreid, @babygirl-garcia, @rynwritesreid, @strangermoonlove.

The bridge to Heaven

Chapter 5: A reunion of former schoolmates

River.

All it had taken was that word on a piece of paper, and Spencer had asked for a few days off from work, told his wife and daughters that he had an urgent appointment in New York State, and gotten in the next plane to Long Island.

He knew what that word meant, and he also knew it wouldn't have led to anything, but he was certain that if Aaron Hotchner, with whom he had never had much contact and whom he hadn't seen in thirty-nine years, had called him, it had to be something urgent.

As he arrived at the address Aaron had told him, a few hours later, the man stopped in front of that house's front door with his heart in his throat and his stomach twisted in anxiety.

How could Aaron think he had the right to force him to remember things he would rather have forgotten?

But he was there now, so he decided to ring the doorbell.

Under it, however, there wasn't the last name "Hotchner", as Spencer expected, but "Rossi".

He had heard that last name before, it was that of a fairly famous former writer, but it meant nothing important to him.

As soon as the door was opened, a high-pitched sound distracted Spencer from his thoughts.

"Matt!" the voice of a person he hadn't see since he had finished high school, way back in 1968, exclaimed.

Although thirty-five years had passed and she had changed a lot, Jennifer Jareau was still perfectly recognizable, at least in Spencer's opinion.

"Jennifer!" Matthew replied, and then he hugged her "I thought no one would have come. I'm happy Aaron was right, at least this time".

"No one? What are you talking about, Matthew?" Spencer intervened at that point.

Aaron stood up from the desk he had been sitting at and said "Hello" to both him and Jennifer, then simply added "I knew they would have come".

A few minutes later, the doorbell rang again, and when the door was opened, a tall, dark-skinned man, with the muscles in his arms still well sculpted despite the fact that he was now over 55 years old, and wearing sunglasses, walked in.

"Little Genius?" was the first thing he said, obviously addressing Spencer, still using the nickname he had given him when they had first met, at 16 and 12 years old.

"Derek?" the younger man replied, getting up and going straight to him.

"How long has it been since we last saw each other? It seems like an eternity!" Derek laughed.

"An eternity is just a subjective thing. It's actually been thirty-seven years, seven days, seventeen minutes and thirty-two-" Spencer responded, but before he could finish his speech, someone interrupted him.

Two women had just arrived, two more people everyone in the room had known well during their adolescence, which now seemed so distant it was like another life.

One of the two, blonde, all dressed up, and wearing a flashy fuchsia dress, immediately ran towards him and Derek with open arms.

They both smiled as she stopped in front of them and hugged them both.

"Hey, Baby Girl, doesn't time ever pass for you?" Derek then asked her, winking ather after speaking.

"Do you know what Aaron wants to talk to us about or is it a secret?" Penelope then questioned, but before anyone could answer her, an elderly man and a woman about the same age as him walked into the room.

Spencer and Jennifer immediately recognized one of them.

It was former writer David Rossi, and if they weren't mistaken, the woman next to him was his wife Erin.

"Hello, everyone" David said, clearing his throat "If we're all here, then we can get started"

"Get started?" Jennifer asked "I don't know what you want to discuss, honestly. Emily committed suicide".

"No, it's not like that. Or rather, Matthew contacted me saying that she didn't kill herself and I want to believe it" Dave replied with conviction, making Derek nod "We have to reconstruct exactly everything that happened that night. I had already tried to do some research those days, but public attention was obviously focused on Kennedy's assassination".

"What do you know about this story?" Elle interjected, turning to Matthew.

"I was on the bridge and saw something that night. And I can say with certainty that Emily was killed" the man explained to her.

"Oh. And when did you see it, exactly? Between one bottle of beer and the next?" she retorted, earning a glare from Aaron, who had been her boyfriend in high school.

"I would be grateful if you all could cooperate" David added at that point, intervening in defense of the person he now considered an acquaintance.

"And why do we have to relive that day just because of one of Matthew's whims?" Derek said, then he turned back to his former schoolmate and asked "What exactly did you see?".

"I heard a car arrive on the bridge at full speed, then the sound of Emily's body hitting the water and the car starting again. Do you still have doubts Emily was killed now?" Matthew replied, then he just waited for the answer he knew was going to come soon from his former schoolmates.

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nyoomfruits · 1 year ago

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hello!! hope you’re having a good day :) can i ask why your tag for lando/oscar is i would only tear it down for you? very new around here (and very curious)

EXCELLENT QUESTION it's a quote from one of my all time favorite fics negative splits by @ocontraire. it's one of the first landoscar fics i read and that one line alone had me just staring at the wall for like three hours and fourty seven minutes.

ANYWAY the reason its my landoscar tag specifically is because 1) it genuinely pingponged around in my head for like DAYS after reading that fic because especially in contexts it such a beautiful GUTPUNCH of a line and 2) to me lando and oscar seem very ride or die???

like my boy oscar just IMPRINTED on lando day one and now follows him around with constant heart eyes like lando personally hung the sun the moon and all of the stars (once again beautifully demonstrated in mclaren's recent lyric challenge video)

and lando just seems so. fond? like the DEDICATION this man has to making oscar laugh (which. if you're lando norris is not actually a really hard thing to do because lando could spend three hours saying the word 'mayonaise' and oscar would be howl laughing on the floor that's how whipped he is but i digress) is admirable. also early days landoscar where lando was clearly trying so hard to make oscar feel comfortable during all that promo stuff they had to do just. gah.

anyway tldr; its a line from a fic that makes me feel insane :)

#also hi welcome!! i dont know if you mean specifically new to f1 or to landoscar or just to my blog but either way hope you're having fun :)

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yamagache · 7 months ago

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Silly Game Time: Pick one of your favorite media (movies, shows, books, games, or etc.) and summatize it in *one* sentence. The more absurd-sounding the sentence is, the better!

Movie: Local anxious boy born on a specific date, makes cool but unappreciated school project decisions and gets chased by an old man with a lust to kill for one hour and fourty seven minutes.

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idontcareaboutspoilers · 2 years ago

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There he sat, hands bound, watching the clock on the wall tick down. He wasn't frequently kidnapped, but it wasn't infrequently, either. Every couple of weeks, sometimes every couple of months, it was the same routine. He'd get home from work, someone would be hiding in his bedroom (or one time hallway) closet, they would jump him, he'd get knocked out, and he'd wake up in someone's basement. The location never changed, not that he'd noticed, but the maze around him would always change. One time it was some glass-wall maze you'd find at a carnival. Another it was covered with a thick fog that obscured everything, and more than once there were comical snake pits and rabid dogs set loose into it. But, each time, he'd sit in the same wooden chair, hands bound at the wrist, watching the clock tick down while Doctor Rotten, as she called herself, would monologue to a camera. He'd gotten chummy with some of her goons. The guy who kidnapped him was named Stephen, he had three kids and a very lovely wife. The driver of the van he was transported in was Emilia, she had an absolute doll of a bulldog she always had pictures of on her phone. There were a few others he hadn't had the chance to talk to- security guards that stood outside his "cell", people watching guard outside that he could see through the barred basement windows, and others that just milled around. They weren't much for conversation.

The hours ticked by as he sat there, waiting for what should have been his rescue from whatever hero was in town that day. Last he had checked it was someone named Timekeeper or something similar. After you've been saved by every hero, their names start to blur together. The clock continued. It started at eight hours- Rotten's usual timeframe, but after the usual monologue and intimidation routine, it hit four hours, and the usually inevitable dramatic bust-through-the-wall didn't happen. Four turned to three, two and a half, one, fourty-five minutes, all he could do is sit and watch the clock. Usually it never seven hours before he was out- did something happen this time around? Did they finally get caught? Or, the worse reality, did they just not care enough to show up? "Doc Rot?" Silence. He called out again. "Emilia?" "...Anyone?" The building creaked in response. Even upstairs, where he could usually hear the sounds of people walking around almost constantly, there was nothing. There he sat for the last forty-five minutes, until the door leading to the rest of the basement clicked, and slowly swung open. He felt the handcuffs loosen and clack against the back of the chair. Was that really what would happen when the timer ran out? He was just free to leave? Doctor Rotten must've been the worst villain in the world, if she can't even kill the person she held captive when time ran up. He stood up, stretched, felt his joints pop. Eight hours in a single, hard-seat wooden chair really did a number on his back. Slipping out into the 'maze', even the area outside his little cell was silent. There weren't any elaborate puzzles set up this time- just a straight shot from his room to the basement stairs. "...Doc?" Again, no response. He nearly sprinted up the stairs, just wanting to see any other sign of life in the building. This was his first time in any room not his little cell, but he refused to slow down. Darting through rooms and hallways, it looked like everyone had just set down their things and left. When he made it to what he assumed was the front door, he stopped dead in his tracks. He could hear the Doctor and...Freeze-Ray? Freeze hadn't been in the city for...at least two years. That was the hero that rescued him the first time he was kidnapped. He bolted to the window peering outside, and sure as shit, the two were standing on the front lawn, apparently having a heated discussion. "We can't keep using you for rescue training. The last time we sent a rookie here you chloroformed her. You can't be doing that. We're pulling your funding. Tell your assistant to go home. He's not getting paid either." Training? Assistant? PAID?

You are kidnapped by the villain regularly, but you’re starting to look forward to it. You know they won’t hurt you, and are simply being dramatic. It also doesn’t help that you are the only person they ever kidnap. This time, the hero doesn’t bother trying to save you.

#writeblr #writing prompt #superheroes #weird villains #700 words total

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brettlorenzi3 · 4 months ago

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Yall find yourself a man who will sit and listen to you ramble about 19 seasons of Deadliest Catch lore for ONE HOUR AND FOURTY SEVEN FUCKING MINUTES with not a single complaint, glance at a clock, or a glance at a phone

i think I found the one bc not even my own mother would listen to me rant for this long

#random

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maytheoddshq · 9 months ago

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Linden Understory. District Seven. Score: FIVE.

The match ground between her teeth.

This was a stupid idea, linden thought, arms burning too. And it was, probably, a stupid idea. But she was supposed to show off her talents, wasn’t she? This had been what she had come up with, pouring over a list of skills together with alder, highlighting the ones she had some skill at, listing them mentally, combining them.

Starting a fire.

Yes, she could do that. Well, at least she could start the stove, and knew how to light a match. And so, to make that more impressive, she’d poached one of the long matches, meant for scared tributes from the fire starting station. There was supposed to be distance between them and the flame, a good basic practice. Linden would rely on that distance today. She struck it with clear practice at doing so, stuck it between her teeth, and jogged off. A timer. It would be faster than 10 minutes, but it would be enough.

Climbing the wall.

This she could do a lot better, this was actually a relevant skill. She’d grown up climbing trees, leaping from them, giving her father heart attacks. “You’ll send me to an early grave, Lin…” He’d warn. And, well, he’d died first.

She couldn’t think about that now, but her mind wandered a bit through the first few holds. They weren’t interesting. She’d stayed low, scaling them repeatedly during the day. Now, she was going higher, but the beginning was easy enough still.

As she got higher, a breeze gently graced her cheeks. It wasn’t wind, it must be artificial. Could the capitol even do artificial wind? Of course they could. Never mind. Regardless, it could blow out the match, so Linden had to re-angle her head and shoulders to shield the small flame. And as she continued, it got harder. Both as the flame licked closer, and as the climb got harder. Still, she persisted, willing herself up. And it was just climbing. She was confident, making her way up.

Reaching the top, Linden took a second to reassess the match. Three-quarters gone. And that was fine, there was only one thing left to do. Linden looked down, realizing abruptly she didn’t exactly have a plan to get down from here, and the last part would require that. With a still-lit match, unless she wanted to lose the visual impact.

Back in her teeth it went, and Linden grabbed her harness, strapping it in. but if she just let herself jump, it would extinguish, so Linden took a minute before cupping both hands around the flame and just hold on with her legs, sliding down quickly enough.

When she pulled away her hands, there was a pink burn blossoming on one of the interior knuckles. Nothing to fire a cannon over. Linden moved on.

Using an axe.

This was the skill of every seven tribute since the dinosaurs, but it was genuinely the thing she was best at. Linden Understory could chop some good wood. So she grabbed an axe, shiny and non rusted from the rack. Well, it was certainly higher quality than back home, but it was still an axe. She spent fourty hours a week for the past… years in the yard, with something just like this.

The flames licked at her cheek, now. But she ignored them.

There wasn’t wood ripe for chopping here, but that wasn’t what they wanted to see. Linden had another plan. Axe in hand and match in teeth, linden made her way to the arrow’s dummies. Her axe went back, then up, over her head, and within five swings, she’d split the thing in two, clean down the center. Practiced.

Not straw inside. Instead, some strange material. Foamy, capitol, distinctly unnatural. Linden wondered for a second if the big finale would even work then, or if this would sputter and die the way she inevitably would in the arena.

But she tried anyway, and just as the flame started singing the hairs growing on her lip, she pulled it again from her mouth and dropped it into the dummy’s sternum. And whatever capitol monstrosity it was, it was flammable.

Tending to a fire.

Linden stood and watched the flames slowly consume the dummy, letting it grow and consume and burn. It didn’t cackle like home, it didn’t smell like wood burning. It was worse, all of it. But everything here was, wasn’t it?

And do it all fast enough to survive.

Hopefully.

#linden #training score

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qskeppy · 2 years ago

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karl plssss can you wait one hour fourty seven minutes to stream 🥺🥺🥺🥺 i have to go home from getting my passport ..

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rayonago · 4 months ago

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This actually only took me an hour and seven minutes to do. I always find that my art style studies go by way much quicker than just drawing normally as I would. Usually it's about fourty minutes, but this one is a tad more detailed than average

dragged my favourite vocalist along for an art style study because it’s my biyearly unhappy with my art era

#my normal drawings take about 2~3 hours

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sagau-my-beloved · 2 years ago

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omg id love if you could write a drabble of creator ignoring venti as punishment. maybe with some nsfw if you could. please and thank you 🙏🏻🙏🏻

When Punishment Is Met With Perseverance

Ok, so this has been absolutely circling in my head since I got it because it's such a good concept and I really wanted to do it justice, so without further ado

Warnings: 18+ content so minors stay away, general Sagau, Sub Venti/Dom reader, obsession, codependency, oral (receiving), mild degradation at one part, reader is pretty explicitly female here

It had been exactly three hours, fourty five minutes, thirty five, thirty six, thirty seven seconds, and counting, since you had last spoken a single word to him, graced him with your voice.

It was an accident, even if it didn't look it.

It's not as though he didn't feel bad for almost killing a guard after overhearing a few unpleasant choice words that he thought were directed to you.

The first hour Venti just sulked, allowing you the honor of space in the hopes that you would soften up a bit.

The second hour, he tried to reinsert himself into your good graces with his well-known playful demeanor, choosing to wrap his arms around your shoulders when you weren't facing him, whispering praise and apologies as he held tighter to you, and you still refused to pay him any mind.

"My love, my muse, the object of my complete devotion, please talk to me? I'm really sorry, I promise not to be so reckless again."

He was slowly wearing you down, everytime he whined for your attention, pleated for any form of affection.

He tried to draw a reaction out from you physically, resting his head on your shoulder and kissing your neck between desperate pleas.

He went as far as to situating himself on you and wrap his arms around your torso, just holding you there for a few minutes as he basked in your warmth, wishing so intensely to hear something other than just your heartbeat.

Nothing worked, you held strong, he was never going to learn if he kept softening you up in situations like these, you can't keep giving into him.

The third hour was when he got truly desperate, situated himself on his knees, lowering himself before you, begging and praying and whining out things that made it hard to keep blush from dusting your features.

"Please please please talk, please say anything, wouldn't you like to berate me? I'll accept it gladly, just please do it."

You were starting to feel worse, both at his desperation and in the fact that you found it so attractive.

It was almost impossible not to, him making those noises, how he looked up at you with teary eyes, how he pressed soft kisses just below your knee as he stayed sitting on the floor.

It was at the halfway point in the third hour when he started trying to 'seduce' you, undressing himself down so that his clothes were practically hanging off his body, putting himself on display, making noises that were getting harder and harder to constitute as non sensual.

He poured all of his desperation into every time his lips touched your skin, mumbling how he wanted so badly for you to use him, let him please you, atone for his sins on his knees.

You tried so hard to refuse to look at him, to just ignore this completely undignified display, stop your body from reacting to how much it turned you on.

"Please my goddess," Venti practically moaned, "Use me, please use me, I'm yours."

You finally broke, grabbing his neck as he let out a giggle at the sudden action, his eyes filled with need and worship.

"You're pathetic, how do you think Mondstadt would feel to knew their beloved God was acting like such a slut, hmm?"

He let out another sultry whine and kissed your hand, "Mmmm, don't care, it's all for you, I'll act like anything you want me to~"

You rolled your eyes, moving your unoccupied hand so that your thumb was resting on his bottom lip.

He took it into his mouth without thinking, sucking and moaning as you added another.

"Fucking desperate..."

He would be obligated to agree with you if his mouth wasn't being put to other uses, deciding instead to respond by trying to take your fingers deeper, moaning louder to show his complete enjoyment.

After a moment of this you let go of your hold on his neck, causing him to fall to the floor again with a thud.

He immediately moved to start drowning you in affection, kissing and grabbing at your thighs, trying to prove his worth.

He was inching his way ever so closer to you, his intentions would be obvious to anyone in a five mile radius.

You let out a 'tsk' of disapproval, grabbing his hair and pulling him back.

"Ah, n-no, no please, I need it, I need to, please—"

"Then prove it. Beg, use that pretty voice of yours to convince me to let you."

He melted, you called his voice pretty.

Not feeling like giving in just yet, he let out an exaggeratedly pained whine, crawling up your legs with the intent of stealing a kiss. You pushed him back down, giving him something akin to a playful glare which caused his lips to turn upward in a slight smile.

It was hard denying him when he looked so incredibly cute.

He had never begged for anything that didn't pertain to you in some way, you really had a way of ruining him.

"My most divine and merciful love, I beg you, I need you, I want you more than anything. Please, use me, I'll do anything you want, let me make up for my behavior—"

He was cut off, mid-plead, as you gripped his hair tighter, causing him to choke on his own words.

"Go ahead then."

That was all he needed.

With a slight pained look in his eyes, Venti smiled, crawling up your body and capturing your lips in a kiss.

It was brief, not nearly as intense as when he was drooling around your fingers, but it was certainly a start.

He pulled back, resting his forehead against yours with his eyes closed as he breathed deeply, simply basking in how sinfull the air was that surrounded the two of you.

You took the opportunity to put your hands on his shoulders and push him back to his knees. He dropped as if weightless, completely hypnotized by the feeling of your hands on him.

The arousal clouded your mind as well, you let your fingers curl into his hair, guiding him to where you were ready and waiting.

His lips moved down to your inner thigh once again, his touch making you shudder as he started sucking and licking at biting your sensitive skin.

You let out something akin to a stifled moan, he moved to a place kisses on your lower stomach in response, a bit above where you needed him.

Desperately, he pulled your underwear down, the last barrier in the way of him getting what he wanted, what he was dying for.

You tried your best to suppress a small whimper, wanting to maintain the power in this situation, which you knew he would be more than happy to steal from you.

He went to work, his moans of pleasure ringing out into the room as his tongue lapped gently at your arousal.

He tried to speak, to thank you and praise you, to whine that he wanted you to pull his hair harder. But you pushed down on the back of his head, stifling all of it.

He whined while continuing his actions, moving his hands behind you and trying to pull you closer, his touch sending shocks of pleasure through you.

Your fingers dug into the back of his head as your own rolled back, eyes closing as the incredible sensation built up, the feeling of his mouth on you, the feeling of complete devotion.

You let out half hearted strings of praise, almost slurring your words together.

His tongue eagerly lapping up everything you gave him, hoping so desperately for more. He was drunk off you, off the feeling of giving himself wholly over to you.

Pleasure rolled through you in waves, he really was too good at this, you had the multi-talented God at your feet completely captivated.

Muscles starting to tense up, you could tell you were getting close as he continued his onset of pleasure.

He could tell too, mumbling pleas into you, begging for you to come, he needed it so badly, it felt like he might die without it.

His actions became more desperate, less rhythmic but more intense, he pulled you tighter, moaned louder, pushed into you harder.

You felt climactic release overwhelm you as Venti's mouth kept going, not slowing down for anything, continuing throughout your orgasm and long after.

Eventually, you had to push him away, feeling the beginning of overstimulation setting in.

He was hesitant to move, completely content to go for another few rounds.

You pushed again, making your wants clear, and felt his mouth leave you as he whispered 'thank you' over and over like a mantra, not even attempting to move from his spot between your legs.

He, instead, rested his head on your thigh, occasionally pressing lazy kisses to the marks he left.

"You're too good at that, you know."

He smiled against you, tracing patterns your skin, "Mmmm, are you sure? I could always do it a few more times if you're not fully convinced."

You let out an airy laugh, "Maybe later."

He took that as a promise and continued to bath you in soft affection, content with silence.

This was the closest he had ever felt to eternal paradise, he might just have to start acting out more if you continued to reward him like this.

#genshin impact #sagau #yandere genshin x reader #genshin x reader #genshin venti #yandere genshin au #venti x reader #sub venti #dom reader #smut

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stardustcatcher · 3 years ago

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First Time

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader

Word Count: 6.7K

Warnings: SMUT (18+ minors DNI), swearing, maybe a teeny-tiny bit of negative self image, drinking, smoking, praise, jakey’s a sweetheart, it's real fluffy smut so... (please let me know if i missed anything)

AN: this is my first time posting a fic so please be nice to me or i'll cry. all feedback is appreciated, also huge thanks to @mintysammykiszka for encouraging me to post because without her i probably never would've. okay, I'm done talking now. i hope you all enjoy :) [i found the pic above on Pinterest, so credit to whoever it belongs to]

there might be some typos and horrific grammar so sorry about that one besties

taglist

Josh had told (Y/N) about the party he and Jake were throwing before it was really even a plan. She had started out as one of Ronnie’s friends, the pair clicking immediately since being paired together for a project in English, but Josh had seen the way his twin looked at the girl when she came over to hang out with their little sister. In her time hanging out with Ronnie, (Y/N) had been a frequent flier in the Kiszka house and soon became a favorite amongst all the residents. Kelly and Karen adored her, Sam was quick to bond with her over their love for the stars, Josh appreciated her interest in his film projects, Ronnie was happy to have a friend of her own who was a girl around her own age, and Jake—well, Jake was hopelessly enormed by the girl.

Everything about (Y/N) was perfect to Jake. She was brilliant, but in a humble way where she would never make you feel bad for not being as smart as her. She was gorgeous with an amazing body that she had grown into over the last year or so. She loved all the music that the boys had grown up with and even introduced them to a few artists they had never heard of. (Y/N) was an expert in all things literature, writing, film, and basically everything creative. Jake could listen to her talk about anything and everything for hours, there was nothing she could say that the boy would not find utterly fascinating.

The plan was for (Y/N) to head over after work, driving herself back to the Kiszka house as she usually did on Fridays. Karen and Kelly were taking Ronnie to some concert for the weekend and left the boys to their own devices, they were old enough to spend one weekend alone. But all Josh and Jake saw was the perfect opportunity for a party. Mama and Papa Kiszka lovingly asked (Y/N) to make sure the boys didn’t kill each other for the weekend before they left and she felt a little bad knowing at least one small piece of furniture would be getting torched if the twins got one too many drinks in them.

Seven-thirty on Friday evening, (Y/N) was accompanying Josh on their trip to the liquor store just outside town. Not fourty-five minutes later, the trunk and backseat of (Y/N)’s 2004 Honda Civic was filled to the brim with cases of beer, a keg, and varying bottles of rotgut. The radio was blasting, the windows all open, and Josh had his feet kicked up on the dashboard. He turned his head to (Y/N) and took a moment to admire her features, he couldn’t argue with his twin brother on the fact that she was absolutely breathtaking. From her shaped brows that framed her pretty eyes, to the delicate slope of her nose and plump lips, soft jawline and high cheekbones, and the soft looking hair that surrounded her face like an angel’s halo. To Josh, and probably all the Kiszka boys, (Y/N) was divine femininity personified.

“Why’re you looking at me like that?” (Y/N) chuckled, breaking Josh from his trance.

“Just admiring your beauty, my darling,” Josh smiled, all perfectly straight and white teeth on display. She only scoffed at him and resumed her gaze on the road ahead. Josh and (Y/N) just had that type of relationship, the one where it was unclear to people if they were a couple or just extremely close. It was the latter, Josh didn’t like (Y/N) like that and he knew she felt the same way about him. She was one of his best friends and an outlet for him to pour his affection into, a person to cuddle up to and love on without the added drama and complication of a true relationship. Josh loved (Y/N) and she loved him back, but they were purely platonic soulmates. “Y’know, this is the perfect opportunity to talk to Jake tonight,” Josh said, reaching over to where one of (Y/N)’s hands laid on the gearshift and holding it in his own. That was probably one of the things Josh loved most about (Y/N), her ability to accept and return affection without making it weird.

“Talk to him about what?” (Y/N) asked, relaxing her hand in Josh’s hold. She tried to play coy, like she had no clue what he was talking about, but they both knew she was a shitty liar. Josh let out an exaggerated groan, throwing his head against the readrest before giving her an incredulous look, always one for the dramatics. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Seriously!” the eldest Kiszka exclaimed breathlessly. “I’m talking about the palpable sexual tension that seems to magically appear every time you two are within a hundred feet of each other!”

“I thought you were going to let this go,” (Y/N) looked at him, eyebrows raised pointedly in his direction. Ever since she had started hanging around longer, Josh had been nagging her about how Jake was clearly in love with her—his words not hers. (Y/N) just couldn’t see how a boy that beautiful could harbor feelings for her, in her eyes she was average at best. All she saw was how her hair always seemed to be a mess or how her thighs rubbed together uncomfortably when she wore shorts. It’s not like she thought she was hideously ugly, she just really couldn’t see how it was possible for a god like Jacob Kiszka to be attracted to her when she was so plain.

“Not until you two confess your undying love for each other or at least fuck it out,” Josh shook his head stubbornly. (Y/N) groaned at his vulgarity but he could see her cheeks flush red. “I’m serious! We’re twins, you think I don’t know these things? Not to mention, we share a room! So I hear his little happy noises and a certain beautiful girl’s name whenever he thinks everyone is sleeping. Mark my words! You two will fuck or so help me God—”

“Okay Josh! I get it!”

People started filling the house around half past nine, it was around that time that (Y/N) felt grateful that the Kiszkas lived on a small plot of land with their neighbors a good distance away. Jake and Josh had been quite popular amongst the highschool’s student body before they graduated, with Jake being friendly with the athletes and music kids and Josh being close with his theater buddies and mostly everyone else since he was a social butterfly. Jake had already started the bonfire out back while Josh appointed himself DJ since he declared he had the best music taste.

(Y/N) wasn’t necessarily popular, she was actually quite the introvert in school, but she could get along with mostly everybody. But she mostly stuck around the Kiszkas, feeling most at ease with them by her side. She split her time talking about anything and everything while wedged between Sam and Danny, making drinks and socializing with Josh, and checking out back to make sure Jake didn’t start a forest fire or burn the house down.

As the night got colder, (Y/N) joined Josh in the backyard by the firepit. She was huddled into his side with a blanket wrapped around them as he animatedly told the story of Kelly cutting Jake’s hair off with shears after the boy said something to upset his father. Her head buzzed from the alcohol and her stomach hurt with how hard she was laughing. Both her legs were thrown over Josh’s as she leaned into him, holding her red solo cup in her hand tightly.

From across the fire, Josh could see his twin eyeing him and (Y/N) as he strummed on his guitar with some of his music buddies. Deciding that he had seen enough of the pining glaces, Josh took the hand that wasn’t wrapped around (Y/N)’s waist and began to trail it up and down her calf that was laying across his lap. She only leaned into him more, assuming it was just Josh being affectionate, and laid her head on his shoulder.

He looked down at her sweetly and asked if she could refill his cup, claiming his legs had gone numb from the cold. (Y/N) rolled her eyes at him teasingly and snatched the now empty cup from him. He thanked her dramatically, peppering small kisses across her cheeks. She pushed him away, giggling as she got up to head inside, missing the glare that Jake shot at his twin.

Weaving through a sea of people while tipsy proved to be a challenge but once she got to the counter where the liquor was housed, it was a breeze. Music thudded through the walls as she focused on filling up the cup, but she nearly spilled the whole thing when a pair of hands wrapped around her waist. (Y/N) was ready to punch whoever laid hands on her, but when she turned around and only saw Sammy, her fists unclenched. He was the tallest of his family and the movement of his gangly limbs were less than graceful being as crossfaded as he was. His pretty brown eyes were glazed over and red as hell, he was definitely stoned alright. “Sorry, (Y/N),” he smiled apologetically. “Didn’t mean t’scare ya.”

“It’s alright, Sammy,” she chuckled at him as he leaned most of his weight against her to pull her into a tight hug. “You okay, bub?”

“Yeah, I’m great,” he giggled. From the few times (Y/N) had seen Sam intoxicated, she could tell he was touchy and giggly whenever inebriated. He was touchy and giggly all the time anyway, but all that love he had in his heart seemed to be magnified when he wasn’t sober. “I’m just so glad you’re my friend, y’know? You’re like my best friend, but don’t tell Daniel,” he whispered the last half of his sentence. “When we get really famous, you’re gonna come everywhere with us! ‘Cause we would die without you, especially Jake—” (Y/N) wanted to ask what he meant but she didn’t have time to before he started talking again. “—like that time I was sick and you brought me soup and all my homework after school. You’re like a mom, but like in a good way, like a hot mom. Y’know what? For your birthday I’m gonna get you a little fanny pack for you to put important shit in, like bandaids and Advil and lollipops for when I get cranky because I don’t have sugar—” Sam rambled until (Y/N) put her hands on the sides of his face.

She knew how hyper Sam could be normally and she guessed that the mixture of weed and alcohol that he consumed amplified that, the last thing she needed was an overstimulated Sam on her watch. “Sammy, babe, I gotta get this drink back to Josh outside,” she looked him in the eye, her own vision a little fuzzy around the edges. “Come with me, you could probably ask Jake to let you throw some shit in the fire,” his eyes lit up at that suggestion and he nodded eagerly.

Smiling, (Y/N) grabbed his hand and led him back through the ocean of people and outside. The cold air hit her like a brick wall and she shivered. Sam let go of her hand quickly and unzipped the baggy hoodie he had been wearing before draping it over her shoulders. She smiled at him thankfully and led him to where Josh was. They sat down next to the eldest Kiszka and he grinned, taking his drink from (Y/N) and kissing her head as a thanks. Now she was wedged between two human furnaces and was happily content with her legs thrown over Josh and the top half of her body leaning into Sam, his arm thrown across her chest.

Josh smiled mischievously at his little brother and motioned for him to come closer. Sam leaned his head behind (Y/N) and Josh shot one more look at his twin—who was glaring even harder than before. Cupping his hand around his mouth so no one could see, Josh carefully whispered something into Sam’s ear that caused the younger boy to bark out a laugh and nod. “What’re you two whispering about back there?” (Y/N) asked, looking up at Sam when we resumed his previous position.

“Absolutely nothing, my sweet,” Josh said, his words innocent but there was an evil glint in his eyes. One that meant he was up to no good.

The party died down around three in the morning, half of the participants had left and the others—mostly inner circle—were found sleeping around the Kiszka house. Danny insisted on helping (Y/N) put Sam to bed, not wanting the girl to deal with the plastered boy alone. The pair dragged him up the stairs and into Ronnie’s room, situating him with a towel over the pillow and a trashcan next to the nightstand in case he got sick. “What have we learned, Sammy?” (Y/N) asked expectantly, helping him take off his jeans and get into some comfy clothes.

“Beer before liquor, never been sicker,” Sam hiccuped. “Liquor before beer, in the clear.”

“Good boy,” she nodded, knowing how much of a lightweight Sam could be, but it was nice to see him let go every once in a while. He had been pretty stressed over Jake being harder on him about the band so it was good for him to have a night free of inhibitions.

“Thank you, (Y/N),” the boy slurred, his face pressed into the pillow. “I love you, you’re the best.”

“I love you too, kid,” (Y/N) smoothed his hair from his face. “Now go to sleep,” by the time she pressed a kiss to his temple, he was already snoring. “Make sure he doesn’t choke on his own vomit, please, Danny.”

“You’ve got it boss,” Danny gave a little salute and laid himself on the small futon Ronnie had in her room. “Sleep tight, (Y/N),” the boy gave a dopey smile, he wasn’t as drunk as Sam but he certainly wasn’t sober either.

“Night, Dan,” she kissed his forehead quickly before closing the door and padding over to Kelly and Karen’s room. The door was cracked open and she could hear small snores from the inside. On the king sized bed, Josh was spread out like a starfish on his stomach, butt naked. (Y/N) scoffed with a smile and grabbed one of the knitted blankets from the closet before throwing it over Josh’s body. He cuddled into the warmth in his sleep and gave an unconscious grin. (Y/N) couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face as she brushed a curl from his face and pressed her lips to his cheek.

She made her way to the back patio and sat on the porch swing, wrapping the blanket that was there around her and picking up the small metal cigarette case where Josh kept his pre-rolled joints. (Y/N) lit one up and looked into the backyard, the dying fire and discarded cans and bottles in the grass, as she inhaled the smoke. “I didn’t know you were still up,” a voice spoke up as the light from the kitchen seeped through the backdoor. (Y/N) looked up to find none other than Jake Kiszka leaning against the frame, looking gorgeous as ever.

“I just finished my rounds,” she smiled, scooting over and patting the seat next to her. Jake sat down silently and she passed him the joint. “You should keep your brothers away from vodka, it makes them surly.”

“Which one,” he asked, smoke billowing from his lips in the light breeze.

“Both,” (Y/N) laughed, taking back the joint from Jake.

“You’re good for taking care of them like that,” Jake said, taking a pack of cigarettes from his shirt pocket and pulling one out with his teeth. “I probably would’ve left Sam face down in the basement.”

“Poor kid’s gonna have one hell of a hangover tomorrow,” she took another pull from the joint and dared to take a look at Jake.

His hair was tucked behind his ears, not quite long enough to completely stay out of his face yet but still longer than it was in school when it swooped over his forehead in a fringe. He wore a button up shirt, it was denim and halfway undone with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and a pair of black jeans that tucked into the tops of his Chelsea boots. He truly was beautiful, all sharp angles and cords of lean muscle stretched under tan skin. He and Josh may have been identical twins but there was something so different about Jake, something that even differentiated him from Sam and Ronnie. Maybe it was the way he carried himself, quiet and reserved most of the time but still observant, or maybe it was something just uniquely Jake that she’d never be able to place. But he had this air about him that just screamed safety, he was easy to talk to and be around, never pressing for conversation. He was content in the quiet if that’s what his company called for.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Jake said, breaking the silence. “I mean, I know all these people aren’t really your thing but I’m happy you’re here.”

“I’m not a fan of most people, but I can socialize when necessary,” (Y/N) joked lightly, feeling heat flush to her cheeks at his admission. “You all make it easier.”

There was another lull of quiet, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. (Y/N) shifted slightly, her knee moving from where it was tucked under her, brushing against Jake’s exposed forearm. Sparks of electricity shot through her skin at the contact and she couldn’t help but look at his side profile and admire his features. He looked as if he’d been carved from marble, like he belonged in the Accademia Gallery with Michaelangelo’s David.

In a burst of slightly stoned confidence, (Y/N) leaned over and pecked the corner of Jake’s mouth. A gasp escaped his lips, barely audible but loud enough for her to hear from her spot next to him. Her eyes went wide, not believing she had really just done that, and her breath was heavy in her chest. Regret washed over her, worried that she had ruined their friendship and she went to say something, anything really, but Jake beat her to it.

“I—” he gulped, his eyes meeting hers. Their noses almost touching, he could smell the perfume she wore. “I always thought you liked Josh, or Sammy. They were all over you tonight.”

(Y/N) shook her head. “Just you,” she whispered. “Only you.”

That seemed to be all Jake needed to hear before he surged forward and planted his lips against hers. It took a second for (Y/N) to actually process that Jake was really kissing her and that she needed to kiss back, but once she did, she melted into him and the hand that he had laid against her cheek.

His lips were so soft and warm and he tasted like cigarette smoke and beer, (Y/N) was drowning in his taste and scent. She never wanted to not be kissing him. It was sloppy and messy at first, Jake obviously having more experience than her, but as his hand moved to grip her hip, they fell into rhythm with each other. His fingers dug into the flesh of her hip, dull nails scraping at the skin.

(Y/N) was the first to break away, hating that she needed air. Their foreheads rested against each other’s, breathing heavy as Jake’s index finger traced over her cheekbone. “Want to head inside?” he asked in a whisper, moving to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. The idea of kissing him more inside was too good to pass up, so she just gave him a breathless nod. They untangled from each other, Jake standing first and extending a hand to (Y/N). She took it and followed him as he led her through the house and up the stairs. They stepped over sleeping partygoers, giggling and chuckling quietly as Jake stopped in the middle of the hall to kiss her again. He smiled at her as if she had hung the stars herself, such adoration gleaming in his dark eyes.

Stepping into the room that the Kiszka brothers shared, (Y/N) felt something she had never felt in that room before. She had spent many nights in that room, either cuddling up with Josh or laying on the floor with all three of the boys while listening to records. Now, here she was in the very room that she slept in more than her own, alone with Jake. Something she had never done before. She really got a good look at Jake’s portion of the room for what seemed like the first time, not cluttered with hippie shit like Josh’s or an organized mess like Sam’s. She could see the posters meticulously hung on the wall in an order that only Jake understood, and the way his end table was set up so he would actually have to sit up to turn off his alarm clock.

(Y/N) was snapped from her daze when she felt Jake’s hands grip her hips and his lips on her neck. She leaned back into his chest and craned her neck to the side, giving him more room to pepper kisses. His hands ran up and down her sides, following the soft curves and contortions of her body’s shape. Jake’s nose nuzzled against her throat and he breathed her in, smelling the scent of her shampoo and body wash. A beautiful mix of something floral and fruity. “So pretty,” he sighed against her, his entire front pressed against her back.

“Look who’s talking,” she replied, turning her head to capture him in another kiss. (Y/N) turned in his arms, wrapping her own around his neck as he backed them up to his bed. He sat on the mattress and pulled her on top of him. Her knees straddled his thighs and she followed him as he laid on his back. Jake’s hands once again roamed her sides before moving down the expanse of her back and planting them right above her ass. He kneaded the flesh there, swallowing the happy sighs she let out. (Y/N)’s hands rested on his exposed chest as her fingers traced his collarbones. She pulled back from the kiss and rubbed her nose against his.

“You okay, baby?” he asked, voice gruff yet still soft. The look of concern in his eyes and the use of the pet name warmed (Y/N)’s heart. “We don’t have to do anything if you don't want to.”

“No,” she shook her head softly as she sat up again, Jake following her with his hands still rubbing her lower back gently. “I want to, I want you. I’m okay, just savoring the moment. I never thought this would really happen. Also, I—” she paused, clearing her throat. “I’ve never done this,” she motioned between them. “I just thought you should know. But I want to, with you… If you want to.”

Jake noticed her cheeks flushing and her uncertain gaze, he smiled warmly and held her chin between his thumb and pointer finger. “Hey,” he whispered, resting his forehead against hers again. “Nothing to be embarrassed about, sweet girl. I’m honored that you trust me enough to do this, I’ve wanted this for so long. We’ll go at your pace, whatever you’re comfortable with, okay?”

(Y/N) blushed once more and nodded. “Yeah okay,” she smiled shyly. Jake returned her grin and patted her thigh, telling her to get up for a second. She moved off him and watched as he made his way to the record player in the corner of the room, he thumbed through the milk crate that housed his vinyls before picking one and setting it on the turntable. (Y/N) wasn’t sure what record it was but there was no doubt that it was one of Jake’s, the twangy and gruff vocals along with the bluesy guitar. As he walked back to the bed, he stood between (Y/N)’s legs and leaned down for another kiss, but he wasn’t focused on her lips for long.

Jake’s lips carefully made their descent to (Y/N)’s jawline and down her neck, nipping and sucking at any place they could reach. He pressed a tender kiss to the skin right under her ear before grazing his teeth against the spot and sucking a deep red mark into the previously unblemished skin. Evidently, it was a sensitive spot if the way she gripped the hair at the back of Jake’s head was any indication.

She let out a soft whimper as Jake moved lower, biting softly at her throat, testing the waters. His hand moved up her front and went to rest on the swell of her chest, his palm sitting atop her breast. Jake could feel her nipple harden through the thin fabric of her shirt and he felt his pants grow just the slightest bit tighter. “Can I?” he asked, looking up at her through his lashes with desperation in his eyes.

“Do it,” she breathed in response. He stripped off her shirt, (Y/N) lifting her arms at the appropriate time, and threw it to the ground. A broken sounding groan clawed its way from Jake’s throat when he laid his eyes on her bare upper half. (Y/N) felt exposed, her whole body growing hot at being on display for the boy she’d yearned for since forever and she instinctively went to cover herself up, but she didn’t get far before Jake laid his hand on her wrist.

“Don’t hide from me, you’re so pretty,” he whispered, moving her arms out of the way and dipping his head down to take her in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the stiffened peak of her nipple.

She whimpered, her hand resuming its place on the back of Jake’s head, her fingers tangling in his brown hair. His hand focused on the breast he wasn’t mouthing on, nimble guitar fingers tweaking her nipple. He lightly pushed back on her shoulders, prompting her to move up the bed. Moving his mouth to her other breast, giving it the same attention as he had the previous one, he crept one hand under her skirt and played with the waistband of her underwear.

He could feel the growing damp spot between her legs and the heat radiating off of her. Jake kissed his way down her body, leaving small marks as a trail and paying extra attention to the dips of her hips. “Is this okay?” he asked, sitting back on his heels with his hands on the waistband of her skirt. (Y/N) nodded, her brain not being able to comprehend words at the moment, but Jake shook his head at her. “I need to hear you say it, sweetheart.”

“More than okay,” she all but whined, wiggling her hips only the tiniest bit. “Please, take it off.”

“As you wish,” he winked smugly, pressing a kiss just below her bellybutton. After pulling her skirt off, Jake discarded his own shirt since it seemed a little unfair for her to be totally naked and him being completely clothed. (Y/N) looked at him with hooded eyes, her pupils blown with lust and love. Sinking to his stomach, Jake peppered kisses up her legs, starting at the ankle and moving up to the crease of her thigh and then doing the same with the other. “You’re in charge here, (Y/N). You tell me what feels good, and if you ever want to stop you just say the word. Got it?” he looked up at her from his spot between her legs, though (Y/N) doubted she was really processing anything he said when he looked that beautiful.

“Got it, just please do something,” (Y/N) begged. Jake gave her an evil looking smirk before trailing his index finger through her folds. She gasped at the contact and arched her back when that very same finger breached her entrance.

He slowly pumped his finger in and out, letting her get used to the sensation before he added his mouth to the equation. His lips pressed a chaste kiss to her clit before his tongue licked a stripe up the length of her. (Y/N) couldn’t help the moan that escaped her, from the heat of Jake’s mouth to the slight crook of his finger, the stimulation was overwhelming. Her hand shot down and grabbed at the hair on the top of his head, making sure not to grab too tight and hurt him. But the groan that left this mouth and vibrated through her proved that hurting him was the last thing she was doing.

His mouth sucked on her bundle of nerves for a moment before he added a second finger to the first. The stretch of her walls was a welcomed burn and (Y/N) was sure she saw stars when Jake would curl his fingers just right, hitting a spot inside her that she never knew existed. He detached his mouth from her momentarily and looked up, the look of pure bliss on her face was almost enough to make Jake cum then and there. “You taste so good, baby,” Jake cooed, his fingers still moving at a steady pace. “Doing so well.”

(Y/N) whined and ground down into his hand. There was something about Jake that she just knew was different, he wasn’t doing this just to get in her pants, or for some quick fuck. Jake genuinely enjoyed making girls cum, this gave him as much gratification and pleasure as it did her. It was clear in the way he watched her movements or smiled against her when he knew she liked something. It was refreshing and different than what (Y/N) expected because even though Jake was one of her closest friends, he was first and foremost a young male. But he seemed to really care if she was having a good time, and that made him ten times hotter. “Please, Jake,” she panted, chest heaving. “Wanna cum, please.”

“I’ve got you, baby,” he whispered just loud enough for her to hear before he brought his mouth back to her. He could feel her walls begin to flutter around his fingers and picked up the pace in which his tongue was licking. Strings of moans and curses flew from (Y/N)’s lips as the muscles in her thighs began to twitch. Jake moved his thumb to replace his mouth on her clit and rubbed small circles over it. “C’mon, sweetheart,” he encouraged, his voice and breath sounding just as ragged as hers was. “Cum for me, I’ve got you.”

And with a final curl of his fingers, (Y/N) came with a cry of Jake’s name. His fingers continued their work, helping her through the aftershocks of her orgasm. “Jesus fucking christ,” she panted when Jake pulled his fingers from her an sucked them clean.

She sat up quickly and grabbed Jake by the back of the neck, pulling him into a feverish kiss that was all tongue and clashing teeth. His hands immediately went to her waist and he moaned into her mouth, she could taste herself on his tongue and her cheeks flushed at the thought of it. Jake shimmied his pants off and pulled (Y/N) to sit on his thighs, she broke away from the kiss and began to nudge her nose against his cheek. “Fuck me, please,” she whispered, breath fanning over his face.

“Hold on, baby,” he nodded at her, wrapping an arm around her and leaning over to his bedside table. He opened the top drawer and pulled a gold packet out before ripping the top off with his teeth. Jake tapped her hip and she obediently lifted them for him as tugged his gray boxer briefs down and rolled the condom onto his leaking hard-on. (Y/N) only got a glimpse of it in the dark room and her eyes widened, realizing that was going inside her. Jake’s hands went back to her hips and his thumbs rubbed small soothing circles against the skin there. “Ride me,” he said looking up into her eyes. “You control the pace this way.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” (Y/N) said quietly. “Will you help me?”

“I’ll help you, angel,” Jake nodded and scooched back onto the bed, taking (Y/N) with him. He pressed his lips to hers again, one hand moving from her hip and going to cup her cheek. “You’re so gorgeous.” (Y/N)’s breath hitched, he’d called her pretty before but never gorgeous. Gorgeous felt more personal, more intimate. She felt his hand leave her face and move to grip his length by the base. He guided it to her entrance and held it there, it was up to her to make the final move now.

One last look at Jake was all it took for (Y/N) to know that this is where she wanted to be, she wanted to be in Jake’s arms, close to him in every way possible. She pecked his lips once more and braced her hands on his shoulders before sinking down onto him.

Her walls stretched and fluttered, trying to get used to the foreign object inside her, as she let out a shuddering gasp. Jake’s hand—that was once guiding himself into her—planted itself in the center of her back, pulling her impossibly closer. (Y/N)’s head dropped to his shoulder as she stilled, letting herself adjust to his size. “So big,” she groaned, it felt like she could feel him in her stomach and the angle had him laying against just the right spot.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” Jake whispered breathlessly, his hand rubbing up and down her naked back. “Doing so well. Feel so good around me, such a good girl,” he rambled, his words being the only thing that tethered them both to this earth. (Y/N) keened at the praise and gave an experimental roll of her hips, making both of them let out sounds that could make a pornstar blush. (Y/N) honestly couldn’t give less of a shit if any one of the sleeping party-goers heard them, this was the best she had felt in her entire life. She felt full, and loved, and appreciated. She never wanted to not feel like this.

(Y/N) rolled her hips again, this time more confidently, and threw her head back. Jake’s hand that was on her hip began to carefully guide her motions, helping her lift up and bring her back down. She bit her lip to quiet the screams that she felt brewing in her throat and began to move on her own accord. Jake looked up at her blissful face, the way her eyebrows scrunched together slightly, her eyes clenched shut, and beautiful full lips hung open in a silent gasp. “Fuck, Jake,” she groaned. He couldn’t help the whine that escaped him at the sound of his name falling from her mouth, the sound was straight up sinful. Jake’s hands moved down to the curve of her ass, dull nails biting into the flesh as she moved up and down much more sure of herself than before.

“You’re so hot, baby,” Jake panted. “Take me so well, like you were made for me.”

“Feel you so deep,” one of her hands moved to her stomach, right under her navel, while the other laced in the hair at the nape of his neck. She rested her forehead against his and connected their lips. She swallowed all the grunts and moans that Jake let out as her tongue licked inside his mouth. The soft sounds of her ass slapping against his thighs filled the room along with their heavy breathing. “Fuck, switch with me,” she whined and Jake immediately rolled them over now with her laid beneath him, his arms holding him up.

With the new angle it felt like Jake hit even deeper. He grabbed one of her legs and laid it over his shoulder, making her cry out in pleasure. He shifted his weight to one arm, using his free hand to rub her clit. She begged him to go faster, and with how pretty she looked and sounded, he couldn’t deny her. Jake drove his hips into hers at a punishing pace, relishing in the noises that left her. “You’re close, aren’t you, princess?” he asked gruffly. All (Y/N) could do was nod wordlessly beneath him. “I can feel you squeezing me. I’m almost there, baby. Hold on for me,” his head dipped down and sucked at the juncture of her neck and shoulder, mouth meeting the sensitive flesh he had bit marks into earlier.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she gasped, the words falling from her lips like a prayer. “Please, Jake. I’m gonna cum.”

“I know, baby,” Jake groaned, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he chased that high for the both of them. “You’re doing so good. I’m almost there. You look so fucking beautiful. My girl, my good girl. We’ll cum together, okay,” (Y/N) nodded as Jake counted down.

Three more tight circles rubbed on her clit that made her legs tremble.

Two beautiful brown eyes staring into her soul, making tears well in her eyes.

One pair of lips pressed against her own, swallowing her scream as white invaded her sight and she finally let go.

She saw Jake’s brow furrow and his mouth form a perfect ‘o’ shape when he pulled back from her, his hips stuttering and pushing into her as he worked them both through their highs. He was so beautiful in that moment, (Y/N) wanted that image in her head for as long as she lived. Jake waited for her tremors to stop before he carefully pulled out of her, his cheeks flushing when he heard her whimper at the loss of contact. He pulled the condom off before tying it up and tossing it in the trash can.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” Jake cooed, rubbing up and down her arm. “Sex 101: always use the bathroom afterwards,” he helped her stand from the bed and wrapped a blanket around her, pulling on his underwear before he walked them both across the hall to the bathroom.

While (Y/N) did her business, Jake wet a washcloth that he grabbed under the sink and nodded for her to sit on the counter when she was done. Once she sat atop the warm laminate, Jake ran the warm cloth over her, apologizing for any discomfort she felt, before he walked them back to his room. They laid down under the covers and Jake pulled (Y/N) into his chest. “Jakey,” she asked quietly, basking in the post-fuck haze that clouded her head.

“Yeah, babe?” he responded, his voice an equally quiet whisper.

“What does this mean for us now?”

“What do you want it to mean?”

(Y/N) pondered the question for a moment, not that she needed to think about it much. “Well, I really like you, like a lot.”

“That’s good, because I really like you too,” Jake smiled down at her, booping her nose lightly. “Wanna go on a date with me?”

“I’d really like that,” (Y/N) whispered, sleep quickly taking over her. “Goodnight, Jakey. I love you,” she mumbled sleepily, sounding so tired that Jake wasn’t a hundred percent certain she had even realized she had said it. But he was glad she did.

“I love you too, baby,” he smiled softly, pressing a kiss to her hair though he was sure she fell asleep before she had a chance to hear him.

#jake kiszka x reader #greta van fleet x reader #greta van fic #gvf smut #gvf x reader #gvf fic #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka #greta van fleet #babby writes #gvf fanfiction

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lockefanfic · 3 years ago

Text

Ghosts

Author’s Note:

This takes place in the same continuity as Queen of Hearts and Second Place. The OC and all characters are the same ones as in those two stories.

Also, fluff and angst warning for the last few pages.

---

Your life changed when you held her for the first time. In that moment you knew you’d never love anyone more.

Even now, eight months later, that hadn’t changed. It never would.

“She’s been asleep for an hour or two,” Seulgi says, softly, leaning on the doorframe next to you. “She’s pretty tired out after our little trip to the park.”

You close the door to your daughter’s bedroom as softly as you could, twisting the knob and letting it go only once the door was shut to ensure you made as little noise as possible. Only when you finally let go of the doorknob did you realize a soft smile was on your lips the whole while.

“Thanks, Seulgi,” you say, voice barely above a whisper as you both step into the hallway. “Seungyeon and I appreciate you stepping in to watch her last minute. We had to both be at a meeting across town that we couldn’t miss.”

“Oh, no worries,” Seulgi replies. “You know I’d never turn down an opportunity to spend time with my niece.”

Seulgi and Seungyeon weren’t sisters by blood and so your daughter wasn’t technically her niece, but given how close their friendship was they may as well have been related. It was a relationship you’d benefitted from directly - it was Seulgi who introduced you to Seungyeon, after all. If it weren’t for her, you likely wouldn’t have a wife and daughter today.

It was crazy to think that a chance meeting at your local gym could alter your life so drastically. It was even crazier to think that it was your former fuck buddy that would introduce you to your future wife.

“I’ll be sure to transfer you your babysitting fee,” you say as you both continue down the hallway and towards the stairs that led to the main floor of your home. “What was it, seven bucks an hour?”

Seulgi sucks her breath through her teeth in a show of faux disbelief. “Damn, this is awkward. Did Seungyeon not tell you how much my rate was? It’ll be fourty-five bucks an hour, plus gratuities. I’m a certified, professional babysitter, I’ll have you know. I even fed her a restaurant-quality, nutritious, balanced meal to support her growth during this crucial time in her development.”

“Mmmhmmm,” you say, returning her smile with one of your own. “I bet it took some real professional training and certification to unscrew that jar of baby food and spoon feed it to a toddler.”

Seulgi laughs - a laugh that you were once intimately familiar with, one that had meant so much more to you at one part in your life.

Another time. Another life.

You both linger for a split second at the stairs. It is a second that felt a little longer than it should have.

To say your relationship with Seulgi was a complicated one was an understatement. The fuck buddy relationship that you’d established following that fateful poker game had lasted a little over a year or so - a year filled with late night hookups and entire weekends filled with nothing but sex so intense that you’d both woken up on Monday mornings sore, bruised, and utterly drained in more ways than one. You’d both made it clear to each other that it was purely a physical relationship, and that feelings wouldn’t be involved… but you’d always felt, in the deepest recesses of your heart and mind, that Seulgi wasn’t quite satisfied with the platonic nature of your agreement.

And so in an attempt to remind her that you weren’t looking for a relationship, you’d declared, casually, that you were looking to meet someone - hoping that she would catch the implication of such a declaration. She must have, because she soon introduced you to her friend Seungyeon at a party you both attended. Seungyeon introduced you to her sister, who, coincidentally, was looking for an agent to promote her budding art career; and the rest, of course, was history.

And so Seulgi went from being someone who indulged your deepest, most carnal physical fantasies to your wife’s best friend. Her closeness with Seungyeon meant you saw her often. On the surface you were both mature adults, and so you both left the entire fuck buddy era of your friendship a secret between yourselves, pretending it never happened, leaving it in the past where it belonged so as to not complicate the present.

But you couldn’t deny that there was still some lingering awkwardness there, an unspoken, unfinished something that lingered in the air whenever you two were together - and especially when you two were alone.

You knew what it was. She knew what it was. But you were almost afraid to confront it, both of you afraid to disrupt the pleasant little status quo that you’d built for yourselves.

You look up at her, almost afraid at what you’d find there.

She was beautiful, of course, as she always was. She was gorgeous on the day you met her, when she approached you for a spot at the gym - and she was even more gorgeous now, many years later, if such a thing were possible. She is wearing an unbuttoned white shirt over a short blue crop top and loose jeans - an outfit that left those perfect, sculpted abs of hers bare. She knew what she was doing when she picked out that outfit. She knew what it would do to you.

For a split second, the sight of her perfect, toned midsection causes your mind to call up an image of her naked, legs spread as she rode you fiercely, those abs flexing and working as they throw her body over and over against you, taking you in and out of her again and again and again as she cried and moaned and sighed her pleasure. You recall the way her abs looked when they were glazed with your warm, thick cum, the way it dripped down her sides and-

You force those images out of your mind. Those days were long over. You were married now, with a child, and having those thoughts now, as pleasant as they were, just didn’t feel right.

But whatever self-pity you had begun to brew inside yourself disappears when your eyes meet hers. You take in that soft, wide smile she always seemed to have on those soft, round features of hers - a smile that was always so warm and inviting, as though it belonged to a woman who could harbor no ill will towards anyone or anything.

And in her eyes - those round, caring eyes, so often bent pleasantly into inverted half moon shapes with every smile - is a softness, a tenderness that disarms you.

You both linger there for a second, you with one step on the stairs, her with one hand on the railing, eyes looking for something in each other, something that you’d both danced around and avoided for years, but was now there, out in the open, finally waiting to be confronted and addressed.

Her hand slowly inches towards yours on the railing. Your eyes don’t leave her face. You watch as her lower lip slowly curls under her teeth until she is biting it, a sliver of ivory over a soft pink.

Her fingers reach yours. Her touch feels like electricity, a spark of something that you’d long forgotten the existence of. She’s the first to speak.

“I think you know how you can pay me.”

There was a time when hearing such provocative words come out of those lips was commonplace. You’d heard her hiss and scream and moan far dirtier, filthier things into your ears, truth be told. But to hear her say them now, to hear her imply what she was implying, given the new lives that fate had deemed you live - it was somehow one of the most intensely arousing things you’d ever heard her say.

“Seulgi… I-”

“She won’t be home for a few more hours,” she answers, quickly, the tone beneath her words betraying an underlying desperation. A need. A want long kept buried.

“But she… Seulgi, I’m married-”

“Shhhh,” she replies, and for the first time there is a hushed desperation in her face, evident in the slight upward twisting of her eyebrows and the slightest of quivers in her upper lip. “She won’t know. No one will.”

“But I will, Seulgi,” you answer. “We shouldn’t.”

Almost immediately after you said that last word you knew it was the wrong word to say. Shouldn’t was quite different from can’t. It implied the existence, however slim, of possibility. It gave her hope. It gave her a chance.

“We shouldn’t,” she repeats, taking a step closer to you on the stairs, her palm slowly covering more and more of yours on the railing until she is grasping the back of your hand. “But we can. Please. It’ll be just like old times.”

“Seulgi-”

“Just once. Fuck me like you used to. Just once. I need it - I need you. Just once. Please.”

“We shouldn’t. Seulgi…”

She steps closer to you on the stairs, her hand on yours tracing a path up your arm until it is curled around your neck. She’s close enough now that her scent - one you were once so familiar with - fills your nostrils with each breath. She smells of strawberries and lust and…

She smells like sin.

Her hands play with the hair at the back of your scalp. You shiver at her touch, though whether from anticipation or guilt, you couldn’t be sure.

“Don’t tell me you don’t think about it. About those days when you fucked my brains out until I had trouble walking. About those nights when I went to sleep dripping your cum out of every hole.”

You sigh, a heavy breath through your nose. You loved your wife to death, but how could you ever forget those days? How could anyone?

“Tell me you don’t think about it,” she continues, incessant now, pressing her svelte, tight body against you. Her cheek presses against yours so she can hiss into your ear - you’d never touched her this way, never made any sort of skin contact beyond the odd high five or friendly hug in the last few years.

Her every movement made your nerves dance. Her every touch made your heart leap.

“Tell me you don’t think about my pussy,” she says, voice sharp, low, like the hissing of a snake, every syllable dripping with the venom of ill intent. “Tell me you don’t think about my hot, tight little pussy and how it felt wrapped around your cock. Tell me you don’t think about the way you fucked it again and again and again, the way you used it like it was nothing more than a sleeve for your cock, a place to dump load after load of your cum.”

“Fuck, Seulgi-” you snap, unable to say anything more.

“Come on,” she says, before she says your name into your ear, the syllables of it half breath, half moan. “Don’t you think about that first night we had together? That night after you won that poker game? You fucked me five times. Five loads - one in my mouth, one on my stomach… and three in my pussy. I was sloppy and wet and leaking the whole night. How many times do you think you can fuck me before she gets home? How many loads do you think you can give me?”

“Seulgi,” you say, your resistance withered down now to just her name, as if merely saying it would somehow stop her, stop the both of you from taking one more step down this damned path that she’d chosen for the two of you.

“I want it,” she pleads, a hiss in your ear.

Her free hand makes its way towards your crotch, her long, dainty fingers quickly cupping the growing bulge she finds there. She presses her lips against your ear.

“Fuck me.”

Your fists clench at your side, as though your body had begun to involuntarily fight her advances. It wasn’t right. It was wrong. You shouldn’t. You couldn’t-

Her hand works at the belt and button of your pants. Experienced, deft, she has them undone quickly. When she slips her hand into the waistband of your boxers, the feel of her warm palm and fingers around your near fully stiffened cock causes the air to rush out of your lungs.

“You know what I’ve been dreaming about lately? That you’d do to me what you did to her,” she hisses into your ear. “I can’t stop thinking about it. I can’t stop wanting it. And I’m ready for it. I’m… I’m off the pill. No protection. No pulling out. I want it raw.”

Her hand begins to pump up and down on your cock, fingers tight around the shaft, thumb playing merry havoc with your sensitive head the way she had so often so many years ago.

“I want you… to put a baby in me. I want you to spill your seed inside my womb. I want you to fill me with so much cum there’s no way I don’t get pregnant. I want… you to put a baby in my belly.”

You tense, breathless, as she continues to pump your cock. But the feel of her hand on your shaft pales in comparison to the next words she whispers into your ear.

“Breed me.”

Her cheek leaves yours to face you. Her eyes - her perfect brown eyes, so filled with lust and the need for your seed inside her young, fertile womb - they’re what break you.

Your lips crush together, a rough, frenzied kiss borne of need and lust and sin that felt so sweet, so delicious, precisely because it was wrong, it was wicked, it was sinful.

Her arms wrap around yours, fingers tight in your hair, nails digging into your scalp. Your hands slip inside her shirt, caressing the firm, tight skin of her lower back, delighting in the feel of her tight little body close to yours for the first time in years. The feel of her so close to you, so needy for something that you’d both long considered unthinkable - it drove you insane. It made you… animalistic.

Perhaps it was the biological urges, the thousands of years of evolution that made you want nothing more than to breed the young woman in your arms and have her carry your child. Perhaps it was the danger. Perhaps it was the violation of the sanctity of your marriage. Whatever it was, it threw all inhibition and morality out the window. There was only sex, and the need to spill your seed inside Kang Seulgi’s fertile pussy.

You break your torrid kiss by squirming a hand into her hair and pulling her face away from yours. On her features is a look so primal, so unapologetically lustful. Mouth ajar, eyes pleading, wanton need laid openly bare.

You drag her by her hair to your bedroom. The master bedroom, the one you shared with your wife.

You throw her onto the foot of the bed with a forcefulness that surprises you.

“Strip,” you hiss. “Strip naked and suck my cock. Get me nice and wet so I can fuck your needly little pussy.”

Seulgi does as she’s told - the way she did all those years ago when she submitted herself to you. It brought back so many memories. It reignited that same lustful need in your loins, the same way it did so long ago, a hunger unfulfilled - no, if anything the time away from her had only heightened it, amplified your need to satiate it.

She wastes no time, practically ripping off her button-up shirt and the short blue top beneath, before bending quickly to peel off her jeans, leaving her naked in a matter of seconds.

Tight, lean body. Long, perfect legs. A midriff and abs to die for. Small, perfect, round breasts with taut caramel nipples. She hadn’t changed much since those days. She was just as fit, just as tight and toned - but the young woman she was had been tempered by the years; she was beautiful now, in addition to the youthful charms she possessed when she was younger. She was more than what she was. Now is a goddess.

She falls to her knees - eyes locked on yours the whole time. Even as she pulls your pants down, even as she wraps those long, dainty fingers of hers around your painfully stiff cock, even as she opens her mouth and licks your shaft from base to tip, leaving your cock head on the pad of her tongue whilst she swirls it around the head and beneath its sensitive ridge - she never breaks eye contact.

Your right hand reaches for the back of her scalp. She knows what it means.

She takes you into her mouth. You sigh. Around a mouthful of hard cock, she does the same.

Seulgi immediately launches into a quick, steady rhythm - wasting no time, partially because neither of you knew how much time you’d have, partially because she was so needy, so impatient, so ready to indulge herself in your cock that she had no need or want for slow, considerate foreplay. No, this was all about indulging need. All about sex for its primary function.

To feel her mouth and tongue on your cock again made you feel like you’d found something you’d lost and thought would never find again. She sucks with hollowed cheeks and teases with a skillful tongue - remembering what you liked as though it were only yesterday when you two had spent days at home fucking like animals.

Her left hand reaches between your legs. Her fingers find your sensitive, dangling balls. She plays with them, remembering the weight and feel of them in her hands, squeezing and fondling the sacks of flesh the way she knew you loved.

You couldn’t help but sigh, couldn’t help but cast your head back and let a soft moan escape your lips. You stare at the ceiling for awhile, hoping to find something to distract yourself from the ridiculously pleasurable sight in front of you. But it doesn’t last long. Your resolve breaks quickly.

You look down and watch her for a minute or two, taking your cock in and out, in and out, in and out between tightly pursed lips, those full, round cheeks hollow with delicious suction.

Eyes still locked on yours.

She lets go of your balls and brings both hands to your ass. You knew what it meant. You knew what she wanted.

You reach down, grasping her skull in your hands. You return your gaze to the ceiling, afraid that watching what you were about to do would be too much to handle.

Eyes finally locked on the ceiling once more, you begin to fuck Seulgi’s mouth.

You moan. You sigh. You grunt as you take your pleasure from the mouth of the naked, nubile young woman on her knees before you. She lets grunts and moans of her own escape her mouth between a mouthful of hard cock. You knew her enough to know this was getting her off just as much as you.

From that first night, that first night when she threw that poker game knowing doing so would reduce her to a fucktoy for the rest of the night - Kang Seulgi loved to be used by you. Some things hadn’t changed. It felt just as good. The taboos and sinfulness only heightened the pleasure, made it easier to indulge in.

You use her for a few more minutes, doing your best to stave off any build up of pleasure that might threaten an early end to the festivities. You look down, hesitantly, and watch as Seulgi’s face twists and contorts, struggles to hold on amidst the fierce thrusts of your cock between her lips. She grunts and sighs and moans and they leave her throat in wet gurgles that oddly spur you, make you want to fuck her wet little mouth until you cum down her throat.

But that wasn’t where you wanted to cum. And it wasn’t where she needed it, where she wanted it.

You pull your cock from her lips, wet and glistening. Seulgi looks up at you with a face of disappointment, as though she’d temporarily forgotten what she needed, as though she were fully ready and willing to swallow a load of hot, fresh cum.

Your hands in her scalp pull her up. When she is standing, you turn her towards the bed, a hand on her back bending her over it until she braces herself against it with her hands.

“I’m going to fuck you on our bed,” you hiss. “I’m going to breed your tight little pussy on it.”

Seulgi lets out a sound that is somewhere between a sigh and a moan, a wordless expression of her need.

“Is… is this where you bred her? Where you filled her with cum and put a baby in her belly?”

You smile slyly to yourself as you watch her, naked and bent over the foot of your bed. Your hands roam her svelte form, along the curve of her spine, around her tiny little waist, around her full hips and tight ass. Your cock, glistening with her spit and your pre-cum, nestles between her ass cheeks - twitching, needy, ready to do its duty. Seulgi arches her back, gyrating her hips against you, capturing your cock between her ass cheeks and rubbing it up and down with her crack. You feel her wetness on the underside of her cock. She is dripping, hot and ready.

Truth be told, this wasn’t where you bred Seungyeon. You didn’t quite feel like telling Seulgi that your daughter was conceived during a one-night stand at her apartment after your first confession of your feelings for one another.

“It doesn’t fucking matter, Seulgi,” you state. “This is where I’m going to breed you.”

Seulgi sighs, a breathy, airy sigh. She straightens her back until she is upright, her back against your chest. Your cock presses against her lower back. You snake your arms around her slim torso to squeeze her breasts, cupping the soft, round mounds, pinching her taut, tight nipples. A droplet of sweat drips from the back of her head, down the nape of her neck. You dart out your tongue to slick it off her flushed skin, and she lets a mewling sound leave her lips.

“Do it, please, do it,” she says in a soft whisper that turns into a pleading hiss, “Do it, please. Fuck me. Cum inside me. Fill my pussy with your hot seed. Put a baby inside my belly.”

You’d thought there was nothing else that Kang Seulgi could do or say that would break you even more than you already were, but there it was - words that somehow manage to shatter what was left of you, render you nothing more than a thrall to your biological and natural urges to procreate. Nothing else mattered. Only Seulgi’s body, and the need to impregnate her.

You bend her over once more with a hand on her back. She spreads her legs apart as best she can, feet tiptoed on the floor to bring her body to the right height for penetration. You bring the head of your cock to her dripping, slick lips. You thrust forward, and you enter her.

Seulgi screams - a sound so raw and natural, so unfiltered by human decorum or propriety. It is a sound so primal, so basic, that it ignites every hardwired biological switch in both of your bodies. It was a signal, a tacit permission to carry out the act that every human being was born to do.

You fuck her. Not soft, not gentle, not even consistent. It is rough. It is hard. It is animalistic.

You waste no time ramping up into a rough, if unsteady rhythm. From your very first strokes you are thrusting your achingly hard cock in and out of her wet, slick, tight little pussy with a speed that might have hurt her had she not been so wet and ready for it. She squeezes and tightens and pulsates around you, every inch of her body bent towards taking you, letting you have your way with her, urging you towards that goal of planting your seed inside her.

It doesn’t take her long before she is ramming her ass and hips back at you. She wants it too. Perhaps more than you do.

“Fuck!” she hisses, throwing her head back and sending sweat-matted auburn hair flying, the word filled with pleasure and relief, the sound of a woman who’d finally received something she’d gone for so long without, a relapsed addict after a new hit. The curse word quickly turns into a long, wordless drawl, punctuated by high pitched crescendos timed to each thrust of your cock into her body.

Your hands clutch at her wide hips, her tiny waist, her full ass cheeks. Her toes curl. Her hands clutch handfuls of the pristine white sheets of your bed, the sheets Seungyeon obsessed over making each day after you both woke. There is something sinful in that act. Something that only highlights how utterly lost down your chosen path you were. You were a cheater, now. A vile, sinful cheater.

You pound away at her, the wet slap of skin on skin and her deep, primal moans filling the room. Every thrust inside her body is a sin, a violation of the marriage you’d built upon that bed, an offense against the woman you shared it with, the one that bore your daughter. But you didn’t matter. Not when Seulgi’s pussy was so tight and wet, her body so hot and ready to receive your cum. You lose control. You lose yourself.

“Fuck me, oh god, fuck me!” she hisses, her every word fixating you upon her, making sure you had no room left in your brain for second-guessing or regret. “Fuck me, fuck me, use me!”

They were words you’d heard her moan on more than one occasion. But to hear them again drives you almost insane.

You reach forward, grasping a handful of hair once more. You pull her almost upright until she is standing. Her hands grasp back at you, fingers clawing at your skin, eager to ground herself, find some sort of anchor against the pleasure crashing in waves against her body. Not once do you slow your rhythm, continuing to fuck the mewling, moaning woman without pause.

“This… this is what you want, isn’t it, Seulgi? You want me to breed you? You want me to fuck this tight little pussy of yours until I fill it with cum? Until I put a baby in you?”

“MMfffmghfuckyes!” she manages to spit, her moan only barely managing to form into words. “Please. Please. Please!”

Her words spur you. You push her onto the bed onto her hands and knees, roughly, callously - slipping your cock from her as you do so, eliciting a moan of displeasure from the squirming, quivering young thing that is Kang Seulgi. But she doesn’t go without your cock for long. Taking up position behind her once more, you reach forward, grasping her hands to pull them behind her lower back, holding them there with a hand around her wrists, leaving her upper body and face helplessly pressed against the bed. With your free hand, you line yourself up once more with her pussy.

Then you fuck her again.

Seulgi sighs and cries into the bedsheets - animalistic grunts and rough, wet sounding moans. You’d had plenty of rough sex with her before, but nothing like this, nothing so primal and natural. This was instinctual. This was raw.

You fuck her into the bed - face down and ass up, hands bound behind her back, there is little she can do but take you as you drill her tight little hole over and over again. It is rough, almost callous - but she loves it, loves every second. It was what she wanted. It was what she needed, all these years.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck,” formerly pristine white sheets, now wrinkled and stained with sweat and the plentiful juices dripping from Seulgi’s juicy pussy. “Fuck, you’re gonna… gonna make me cum!”

You don’t respond - not verbally, at least. You only increase the tempo with which you are fucking her.

“Cum for me, Seulgi,” you hiss through your teeth. “Cum on my cock like a good little girl. Like a good little girl that wants to be bred.”

She does so, as if on command. She tightens in a way that rips a pleasurable groan from your mouth. She pulsates. She squeezes. She floods your cock and your crotches with a wave of slick, hot juices - but it doesn’t end. You feel the hot rushes of warm liquid on your legs and thighs and know that she has squirted all over the bed you shared with your wife.

That was one of the things you loved about Seulgi - she squirted, but most often when she was especially turned on. And what could have turned her on more than the sheer sinfulness of what you were doing?

You slow your strokes into her pussy until you stop, burying yourself inside her. She gasps as you fill her with cock.

“Good girl,” you say, finally releasing her hands from her back, caressing a still-quivering ass cheek as the final waves of her orgasm course through her body. “Good girl, Seulgi.”

“Mmmm,” she moans into the bed, where a pool of her saliva and spit has begun to stain the sheets. “You fuck me so good. I had to… I had to squirt all over your cock.”

“Such a needy little slut,” you reply. “So needy for my cock. Is it time for you to take my cum, too, Seulgi?”

“Yes,” she sighs. “Yes please. Please… cum inside me. Don’t pull out. Spill your seed inside my needy little pussy. Coat my womb with your cum. Give me a baby.”

You let a devilish smile appear on your lips as you slip yourself from her, eliciting another sigh of disappointment at her sudden emptiness.

If she wanted to be bred, there was only one position you wanted to do it in.

Grabbing her by the hips, you turn her over onto her back. Slipping your hands behind her knees, you lean over her - placing her legs on your shoulders and leaning forward until her knees are almost touching her elbows and she is folded in half atop the bed.

“Put my cock in you, Seulgi,” you hiss, your faces mere inches apart as you loom over her helpless body. “Put my cock inside your pussy so I can fill it with cum.”

Without a moment’s delay Seulgi reaches between your sweat-slick bodies, bringing your wet, dripping cock to her drenched folds. You nudge the tip of your cock inside her warm flesh, relishing the feel of her lips wrapping themselves around your cockhead.

You watch as Seulgi’s face contorts and twists with the promise of impending pleasure - but she keeps her eyes open, keeps them locked on yours. In them is a plea, a desire, an ask - a need to be filled with cum. A raw, animalistic need…

“Fuck me,” she spits. “I’m your fucktoy. Fuck me, use me… breed me.”

You thrust yourself inside her. She moans. She sighs. She cries rough, wordless sounds of raw, unfiltered pleasure. You grunt. You drill into her body, fucking her roughly, callously, animalistically.

Her dangling feet bounce helplessly above her head. The rest of her body, with her lower half folded in half atop her, is unable to do much more than simply take you as you drill her, almost vertically, into the bed. In and out, in and out, in and out. There is no time for technique or consideration for comfort. Only raw, primal, animalistic rutting, like uncultured savages wanting nothing more than to propagate the human species.

Her moans, already wordless, turn into an unintelligible drawl as they leave a mouth permanently ajar. Her eyes roll into the back of her head as she is taken again and again. Nothing else exists aside from the hard cock pounding away at her helpless body. It is overwhelming. It is almost too much - but at the same time, until she feels those hot, warm jets of virile semen filling her needy, fertile womb - it is not enough.

Every muscle in your arms and legs burns with the effort. But your brain ignores the signals of exhaustion being sent by every nerve in your body - because in their face is a growing pleasure so all-consuming that it lends you strength, lends you the energy you need to continue the torrid pace you have set for yourself as you pound another woman’s body into the bed you shared with your wife. Your teeth grit. Sweat flies from your forehead to land onto the bed, another bodily fluid, another drop of evidence to stain your marriage bed with evidence of your infidelity.

Another drop of sin to add to the ocean you had fallen into with Seulgi.

You watch Seulgi’s face as you fuck her - mouth ajar, saliva dripping from her lips, eyes rolled to the back of her head. Her brow is furrowed, almost as if she is in deep concentration - but you know it is only because her body is struggling to contain the pleasure coursing through every fibre of her being. She gasps - a breathless, airy gasp that reminds you of someone that is suddenly fighting for each breath - and then she orgasms.

Her pussy tightens exponentially around your cock, even as you continue to fuck in and out of her. The breath rushes from her lungs as she urges you, pleads with you to give her what she wants.

Your orgasm beckons. Your cock swells with semen, ready to spill into her wanton, fertile womb, ready to coat her walls with your cum, the seed of life. Your body urges you, spurs you towards fulfilling the most basic, animalistic, primal need of humanity. So does the filthy, raw slurry of words tumbling from Kang Seulgi’s mouth.

“Please cum in me please oh god, please cum inside me put a baby in my tummy please cum in me!”

You find the wherewithal, amidst the relentless, rough fucking, to smile devilishly. You bury yourself to the hilt inside her, earning a sharp yelp of surprise from the still mid-orgasm woman as she is filled to the brim with cock. You bend to hiss into Seulgi’s ear.

“I don’t cum in fucktoys. I only cum in my wife.”

When you pull your face from her cheek, you have only a moment to relish the look of shock upon her face before you let her tired legs slip from your shoulders. Slipping your cock from her body, you reach down to stroke your slick shaft with your right hand.

Your orgasm hits you with the force of a thunderbolt, but you find the inner strength to force your eyes open and watch as your cock spurts rope after rope of thick, hot cum onto Seulgi’s body. The thick, creamy semen lands in long strands upon her flushed skin - first on her upper chest and neck, and then on her small, heaving breasts, and finally on her tight, breathless stomach.

You leave her a cum-stained, dirty, sweaty mess atop the bed. On her face, amidst the last vestiges of her orgasm, is a look of shock mingled with unmistakable disappointment.

You leave the bed. She mewls at your parting from her, but it doesn’t stop you. You step towards the closet that fills one of the walls of your bedroom before pulling one of the sliding doors aside.

In the closet is Seungyeon - frazzled, messy - one hand busy in her drenched panties, the other inside her white tanktop, hand clutched around a soft, full breast. The slatted sliding door clearly gave her a perfect view of everything that had just occurred between you and Seulgi.

“Did you like the show, baby?”

Seungyeon rushes from the closet, wrapping her arms around your neck and giving you a rough, frenzied kiss. Her tongue presses into your mouth. You wrap your arms around her as she breaks the kiss and looks into your eyes, a devilish smile on her perfect red lips. She turns to your bed, where Seulgi is still struggling to recover from being fucked into oblivion.

“I loved the show, baby,” she finally replies. “I hope you liked getting reacquainted with your old fucktoy?”

“I did,” you smile. Even as Seungyeon watches Seulgi’s cumstained body squirm on the bed, your eyes have never left your wife’s face. You knew where your heart’s desires truly laid.

“Good,” Seungyeon says, turning to you once more. “Because we have her for the whole weekend.”

Seungyeon slips from your arms, her hand falling to your wrist and pulling you once more towards the bed. She takes a moment to divest herself of her tank top and slip out of her panties, leaving her as naked as her best friend atop the bed.

She’d worked hard to get her figure back after bearing your daughter, and your eyes are glued to her tight, perfect form as she crawls onto the bed, ass up, leaning down to give Seulgi a soft, tender kiss - she’d not only regained her previous figure but kept the curves pregnancy and early motherhood had blessed her with, most evident in the roundness of her breasts and the fullness of her hips and thighs. She cradles the younger woman’s face in her hand for a moment before licking her lips and kissing her once more - this time more passionately. Seulgi reciprocates, and wraps her own arms around her best friend as they continue to make out atop the bed.

You watch as Seungyeon breaks the kiss, bending her head to lick a glistening, creamy rope of your cum from Seulgi’s breast, eliciting a soft moan from the younger woman as she her tongue curls lavisciously around a glistening, cum-slick nipple.

Your wife looks back at you.

“Don’t just stand there, baby,” she says, slyly, a smile on her lips even as they are pressed against the creamy skin of Seulgi’s soft, quivering breast. “Don’t you want to play with me and our new toy?”

You smile before joining your wife atop your bed.

---

“I actually am on the pill, by the way,” Seulgi says as you give her her cup of coffee. “That whole breeding thing… it was just part of the show. Seungyeon thought it would be hot as fuck, and she was right.”

“I know,” you reply as you take a seat at the kitchen table next to her, cradling your own cup. “I kind of lost control there for a second. I’m sorry if I was a little rough with you.”

Seulgi shakes her head, soft smile on her lips. She was radiant in the early morning light, the sun coming in through the window to clothe her in warm yellow rays, as if mirroring the brightness of her smile.

“I loved it,” she says, taking a sip of her coffee. “Reminded me of the good old days. You know I like it when you lose control. And now I see why Seungyeon loves you - she’s finally found someone that can keep up with her appetite.”

You smile as you take a sip of your own. You’d had some time, after the two women had finally tired themselves out and just before going to sleep with them on either side of you, to think about the newfound situation you’d found yourself in.

“Seulgi, I just want to make sure… that you’re comfortable with all this. I know this was you and Seungyeon’s idea, but if you’re not okay with it, we can stop-”

“Mmm-mmm,” Seulgi replies with a shake of her head. “Don’t worry about it. This is just for fun, I know that. We’re all adults here. If I weren’t comfortable with it, I’d tell you.”

“Okay. And if you ever want to stop, you’ll tell us?”

“If I ever want to stop having mind blowing sex all day and night with my two best friends? Fat chance.”

You share a smile - as carnally satisfying as the previous night and following morning were, you were thankful to have cleared the air between you.

“Good. I just wanted to make sure. Now if you’ll excuse me, I think I need to get back to bed - I didn’t get much sleep last night. I kept being woken up,” you say with a wink.

She smiles as you leave - warm, soft, as bright as all her smiles were - and it lingers on her lips even after you have climbed the stairs back to the bedroom to sleep away the previous night’s exhaustion.

You leave Seulgi alone with nothing but her thoughts. Her eyes wander, at the empty seats around the table, at the kitchen, and outside the window into the small backyard.

In her mind’s eye she sees images - dreamlike ghosts. Ghosts of a past that felt so far away, of a present that still felt so raw and painful, and of a future not yet realized.

She sees the past first - images of Seungyeon and her husband in the kitchen, preparing dinner, cutting vegetables and seasoning a simmering pot of something that smelled like home. Moving boxes, not yet unpacked, litter the kitchen - perhaps it was their first night in the new home they’d chosen to build their lives around.

She watches Seungyeon dip a spoon into the pot and present it to her husband to taste, and she watches a warm, loving smile appear on his lips - a smile that once meant so much to her and still did. She knew it always would. And there it was, given freely, lovingly - not to her, but to someone she loved like a sister.

It hurt her heart to see it.

The two look at each other with eyes full of nothing but the purest, most sincere love as they return to preparing dinner - just another normal night amongst the many thousands they would share together. But each night was important, each one a firm brick in the house they would build together throughout the course of their lives.

She sees glimpses of the future, too. She watches their daughter walk into the room, a little girl now, dressed in a cute pink dress with a backpack slung over her small shoulders. It must be her first day of school, judging by the way her parents crouch to adjust her clothes and snap pictures of her by the door - pictures that would be stuck to the refrigerator door, and then framed and put on the wall, and then placed in well-worn albums to be perused by loving, wistful hands for decades to come.

Their daughter grows - into a pretty girl, a sweet teenager, and then finally into a beautiful woman. The first day of school becomes the first day at college, and then the day of her marriage.

Seungyeon and her husband age as well, and in her imaginary ghostworld Seulgi sees them sitting next to her, hair grey but the love within them undimmed by time, the look in their eyes just as soft and loving as it was many decades earlier, when they were newlyweds making their first pot of soup in their new home. The bright morning light bathes them in gold and yellow just as it had for the many years of their loving marriage.

She watches as he reaches a hand over to hers, wedding bands glistening in the morning light, their fingers intertwining as they both sip their tea, content to just sit there in each others’ company, long since past the need to speak or converse; their eyes tell each other all they want to hear, saying and listening and hearing everything, all in a simple glance of loving eyes.

For a moment, Seulgi wonders if this life could have been hers.

A drop of something wet lands on her forearm, and she glances up at the ceiling, wondering if perhaps there was a leak in the plumbing from the floor above. But there is nothing there.

She reaches a hand to her cheek, and realizes that she has been crying.

The sound of someone descending the stairs shakes her from her reverie, and she hurriedly wipes the tears from her eyes and cheeks before slipping her phone out from the pocket of the pair of pajamas she’d borrowed from Seungyeon, unlocking it and idly scrolling through it, doing her best to hide the lump of emotion building in her chest.

“There’s Auntie Seulgi!” Seungyeon says with all the joy and warmth that can only be found in a mother speaking to her child. In her arms is a bundle of pure joy wrapped in soft cotton. Her daughter, possessing both her mother’s beauty and her father’s mischievousness, smiles brightly at the sight of her auntie. It giggles, and for a moment the air is filled with the most wondrous music known to humanity.

“Do you wanna sit with Auntie Seulgi while Mommy makes breakfast? Yes? Yes you do!” Seungyeon coos, wiggling her face towards her daughter’s until their noses touch. Her daughter giggles and laughs in the way babies do, hands flailing about in a wordless expression of joy.

Seulgi watches it - watches the sheer joy in Seungyeon’s face, the unbridled happiness in her best friend’s spirit - and her lip quivers with emotion.

Was it envy? Jealousy? The thought that, were it not for a twist of fate or a quirk of destiny, she would be the one handing her baby daughter to Seungyeon, and not the other way around?

But those thoughts - ugly, dark thoughts - didn’t last long. They disappear the moment she carries the baby in her arms.

Seungyeon gives her best friend a soft smile before turning to the kitchen to prepare breakfast, but Seulgi barely notices. The only thing that matters - the only thing that exists - in the entire world is the small bundle of soft cotton and the perfect life it held swaddled within.

The baby smiles and coos at her, fingers and toes wriggling. Seulgi reaches up with a hand, and the baby grasps her index finger tightly, laughing at her, as if to say the finger now belonged to her and her only.

The tears start again, but this time Seulgi knows exactly where they came from. Not from envy or jealousy at a life that might have been hers…

No, these were tears of love.

All the what-ifs and should haves flee her mind, their swift exit extinguishing the last embers of envy and jealousy that remained inside her. Her ghostworld fades into the mists from whence it came, never to be conjured up again, not even in her darkest moments.

The thought that her life could have somehow been different becomes irrelevant, inconsequential. In that moment only one thought, one sole goal, existed within her.

She was going to be the best goddamn auntie the child in her arms could possibly have.

---

Author’s Note:

“Everyone you meet is fighting a battle you know nothing about. Be kind. Always.”

-Robin Williams

youtube

also these two are adorable and I ship them okay

#seulgi #red velvet #smut

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spooky-fm · 2 years ago

Text

Happy Holidays to those who celebrate things around this time! Have this short update as a little gift from me :)

Had some fun with the first DC characters meeting our delivery ghost for the first time.

Part 4.

Jason parked his motorcycle near the first fast food place that didn't seem like it served kale and avocado on toast for the price of a week's worth of groceries. He had been following a lead on a trafficking ring for over twelve hours and needed a good break. The trail was cold enough that a slower pace wouldn't hurt the investigation, and he was hungry enough to eat his own weight in greasy fast food.

A small pizza restaurant winked at him with a flickering neon sign. The inside of Antonio's looked like any of hundred's of roadside diners Jason had eaten at. Out of habit he made a note of all people in the dining area. An older man was standing behind a counter, taking an order on a wired landline phone; a teenager wearing a baseball hat with the restaurant name was leaning against the counter on the other side and reading something on a smartphone; a truck driver was eating the last slice of his pizza and watching some soccer game on an ancient TV set on the wall. The threat accessment took him a second, another second to take stock of the possible exits, and he was standing in front of the old man, who had just finished wirintg down an address and shouting the order to the kitchen.

"Welcome to Antonio's, what can I get for you?"

"Whatever has the most meat on it, biggest size you make. Coffee," - Jason grunted.

He paid and took a seat at the table that had a good view of the whole room and the main entry points. Mentally going over the facts of his latest investigation, he absently tracked the people in the restaurant. Old man went to the kitchen. Old man came back with boxes. Old man gave them to the kid. Kid grabbed pizzas and an address slip and left. A woman came inside, late thirties, early fourties. Ordered pizza, sat down. Trucker finished his food and went to order more for the road. Good sign, pizza probably not complete shit.

Finally, his food was ready. Jason bit into a slice and his eyes widened in surprise. That was the best damn pie he's had in a long time! He finished the whole thing before the delivery kid came back. Must have been someone very close to the pizza place itself to take less than fifteen minutes to get there and back, he mused to himself.

As if sensing that he was being observed, the teenager looked at Jason with a pair of startingly bright blue eyes. Something made Jason tense up on istinct when he met the teenager's gaze. He felt the Pit rumble in agitation and quickly looked away, taking a deep breath to calm himself. I need to take a goddamn break before I start jumping at the throats of every kid looking like a future Bruce Wayne adoptee. Although he had to admit that aside from the hair and eyes combo, this one did not particularly resemble any of his siblings.

Throwing the incident out of his head and marking the retaurant location on his map app with a 'favourites' pin, he went back to his bike, resuming the chase for clues. After this case, he was going to sleep for at least 16 hours straight.

"Hey, kid, were you serious about doing super fast deliveries more often?"

"Yeah, sure. Why?"

"You've been looking bored recently, so I jotted down a rought plan. Take a look at this, if you are ok with it."

"This looks cool. I'm in!"

Tim Wayne-Drake was in his favourite coffee shop to get a small pick-me-up cup with seven extra espresso shots that should get him through the afternoon. He was on comms duty that day and was hoping to make some progress in the cases he had been personally investigating. While waiting for his order to be called, he absently scanned the flyers and posters that the coffee shop staff put up on their walls every couple of weeks.

One particular poster grabbed his attention.

~~~

"Antonio's has the best authentic Italian-American pizza! Visit us at ...

Order by phone or on our app ...

10 minute delivery guaranteed or money back! The timer starts when your order leaves the oven!"

~~~

The brightly colored paper had a QR code for the app and several very appetizing pictures of obviously real pizzas. He hummed in approval -- he had always hated the fake pictures of not-food used for ads that looked nothing like the actual product. The express delivery guarantee is new. Gotham is not very famous for safe and reliable travel routes. They probably have a small radius for this feature. It seemed that he was not too far away from the pizzerias location, if they got their poster up in the coffee shop. Tim made a mental note to test the range and try the pizzas for himself.

His coffee cup was still standing in the line of empty cups waiting for the barista to fill them with drinks, so he occupied himself by downloading the Antonio's app on his phone. He punched in the addresses of the coffee shop, the Wayne mansion, and the Wayne tower. All of them came up as 'deliverable'. Tim raised his eyebrows. Did the restaurant have several kitchen locations? He put that on his mental 'to investigate' list but ranked it relatively low in priority.

His name was called then, and he headed back to the nearby Zeta-Tube sipping on the sacred liquid. As he walked, he scrolled through the pizzeria's menu and selected several options. Alfred was on his mandatory vacation for a week, and Tim did not feel like preparing a meal.

'You have selected express delivery. Please confirm your address and payment method'.

'Your order is in the oven. You can track your progress in the App!'

Just as he exited the Zeta-Tube in the Batcave, another notification came in.

'Your order is ready! Starting the Express Delivery Timer'

Tim curiously tracked the numbers counting down on the screen. There was no way they could arrive at the manor fast enough, even if the pizzeria was close by. He waited near the entrance doors anyway.

With 2:56.14 left, the timer stopped counting, and the doorbell rang. Tim startled, almost dropping the phone in surprise. That was the doorbell, not the intercom by the gates. His suspicions rising higher, he opened the doors, ready to engage with hostiles.

A teenager was standing at the door, wearing jeans and a blue shirt with a NASA logo on it. The baseball cap had Antonio's stitched onto it, marking him as the delivery driver (runner?) for the pizzeria. That, and the pizza boxes he was holding in his hands.

Tim stared.

The teenager smiled the fakest customer service smile Tim had ever seen and ran through a clearly practiced spiel.

"Hello, thank you for ordering pizza with Antonio's! I have a delivery here for Time Drake-Wayne. Your delivery was completed in 7 minutes and 5 seconds. Please confirm the delivery time in the app."

Tim glanced down at the phone screen. The timer was covered by a prompt window with the words 'Your order was delivered! Thank you for eating with Antonio's! Please confirm order delivery' and two buttons 'Confirm' and 'Report a problem' underneath. He clicked 'Confirm' and looked back at the delivery person. The guy was holding the pizza boxes towards him with the same fixed smile on his face. Were his eyes twinkling?

The dead-eyed expression was back, the fake smile never leaving the teenager's face, as he cheerfully thanked Tim for ordering with the pizzeria and turned around towards the driveway.

"Wait!"

The delivery person turned back, the unnerving smile still on his face.

"Is there a problem, sir?" - He asked in a polite tone.

"No, no problem with the order, just a question. But how did you get through the gate? And so fast?" - His radar for suspicious activity was definintely picking up something from this guy.

"Sorry, sir, I am not allowed to disclose trade secrets, but your gate was open, so I just walked up to the doors," - he answered with a bored expression. "I figured you were expecting the delivery and opened the gates for me."

Tim frowned at the answer. The gate was never open, even if they expected people, unless there was a big official party. The alarm bells in his head were ringing louder and louder.

He must have been silent for too long, because the teenager spoke again.

"Unless you want to tip, sir, I will be on my way. There are other orders to deliver."

That was a chance to keep him there a bit longer.

"Wait, yes, of course. I'm sorry, I forgot the tip! Completely slipped my mind."

He was rewarded with a flat stare and slightly raised eyebrows, but the delivery person stayed put, which was a win in Tim's books.

He fished out his wallet from the bag that was still slung over his shoulder and casually asked for the other's name.

He was met with another spark of laughter in the blue eyes that disappeared just as quickly as the first one"

"I'm afraid I am not comfortable disclosing personal information, sir," - He accepted the 20$ bill from Tim. "Have a good day and enjoy your pizza!"

Tim couldn't come up with another stalling tactic so he just muttered a 'thank you' and watched the teenager's retreating back as he exited the gate and disappeared around the corner.

He bumped the priority of the case up on his list.

At least the pizzas were delicious.

Next up: Danny thinks. It turns out to be harder thann he expected.

Credit for the ghostly dividers to @racingairplanes. Thank you!

Taglist 🥰: @i-am-the-asian-persuasion, @spoopyspoony, @someonebored0100, @justwannabecat, @markus209, @starscreamlover, @chaoticmistake, @ectoplasm024, @theboisarehere342, @theamazingfox, @midnightenigma, @kyrianclawraith, @8-29pm, @jesus-camp-the-sequel, @redhoneysugarorange, @may-rbi, @aconitewolfsbane, @thegatorsgoose, @undead-essence

DP x DC fic: Delivery Ghost

This has been consuming my brain for weeks. Based on this post by @gummybearstastelikesadness:

Danny wakes up in the new world and, not feeling responsible for its villains (unlike the ghost attacks where he is the one who turned on the portal) decides to take a break and have a vacation. As a pizza delivery person, he brings orders to the recipients within the specified timeframe, no matter what. Certain citizens of this world are suspicious when the app lets them order to a town 2 hours away from the location ... and the delivery boy is there in under 10 minutes.

If only Danny cared about their feelings.

Part 1.

Waking up sore and confused in the middle of a random field with only vague memories of last night's events wasn't that weird for Danny Fenton. He had been Amity Park's resident hero for several years and had lived through much stranger awakenings. His list started with Vlad Plasmius's spooky basement inside a cloning tube and his parents' lab strapped to the vivisection table, and ended with places like the middle of nowhere in the Ghost Zone after an ecto-storm or a hundered-year-old abandoned maze of secret tunnels under the Masons' house after a particularly exciting date with Sam. Next to those, an ordinary-looking meadow was a welcome change. Despite that, something felt not quite right, but Danny couldn't quite focus on the feeling in his drowsy state.

Careful inspection of his body revealed that he had all of his limbs attached where they should be attached and functioning as normal. Aside from mild discomfort after lying on the cold ground for a significant amount of time he was perfectly healthy, despite splotches of dried ectoplasm and blood indicating recent injuries.

Deciding that he did not care enough to remember what those splotches were from just yet, Danny shrugged and continued his inspection. He looked around the field, trying to find any clues, tracks, or signs of civilization, and, failing to locate any, he transformed into his ghost form.

The transformation was enough of a jolt to wake him up from his morning sleepiness, forcing Danny to remember the fight with an unfamilliar ghost that appeared just as he finished fixing reindeer antlers to the top of the head of his freshly-made one-foot-tall snowman made from the first snow in the season. He had been so concerned with taking the fight away from his new porch guardian that he hadn't taken it seriously enough. Between exchanging blows and trying to find out the name of the intruder into his neighbourhood, he ended up too distracted to notice that they were not alone and got blasted with a dark-purple beam from behind.

As much as he would have liked to know more, the memory tastefully faded to black and refused to provide any further details.

'Never mind the why's and how's then,' - Danny thought, unconcerned. 'Time to consider the where's and the when's.'

Having thought that, he suddenly realised what had been bothering him from the moment he woke up. He was so busy taking stock of his physical state that he forgot to question the gentle warmth of the ground he had slept on and the decidedly non-December greenery around him.

Wide-eyed, Danny quickly flew up, searching for anything that could point him towards Amity or any other nearby town.

The vegetation did not seem too different from what he was used to, so he concluded that he probably wasn't anywhere Southern enough to be this warm in December. That suggested Clockwork shenanigans, which did not fill Danny with too much confidence.

He turned invisible, picked a random direction, and flew at a leisurely speed fully intending to enjoy the idyllic weather.

A couple of hours later, he finally came across a large enough town where he decided he would not be instantly noticed in the morning crowd. He easily found the local library and got permission to use a computer from the librarian that barely glanced at him in the dimly lit lobby. He made his way towards the two ancient computers ready to learn the local date and hopefully figure out how he ended up in this situation.

Danny wasn't truly surprised when the calendar showed a date a couple months in the past according to his personal timeline. He had spent enough time (ha!) with Clockwork to not be put off by a bit of minor time-travel. What surprised him, however, was his inability to find even a single mention of Amity Park on the internet.

Familiar forums, social media account of his friends, Amity news sources, even his personal blog that he posted blurry pictures of blob ghosts to were missing. Maps, both regular and satellite, showed a familiar but slightly different landscape where his home town should have been with a completely different name written over it.

Danny stared at the monitor with unfocused eyes. If he really had travelled in time, he would have been able to find some trace of Amity, or his friends. Searching for their names gave unhelpful results, and trying to look up ghosts and ghost attacks only led him down the rabbit hole of superheroes and something called 'The Justice League' that just gave him a headache. This led to the natural conclusion that instead of a minor instance of short time-travel he got tangled in a major instance of timeline-hopping.

He shuddered a little, remembering Dan. At least it seemed that Danny didn't exist at all in this timeline, in any shape. That turned out to be a slightly disturbing thought and Danny decided to ignore it with the practiced ease of someone who was used to rolling with the punches for the sake of his mental stability.

He wondered briefly when this world and his started to differ, but his limited knowledge of human history was not enough to give him much of a hint. He figured it was at least a couple hundred years in the past, but that was the extent of his detective abilities.

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

It was a relief to finally exit the stuffy library building and let the rays of sunshine fall on his face after several hours of researching the new world he found himself in. Despite failing to get any closer to the mystery of his appearance there, he didn't feel that upset at the change of scenery.

While walking leisurely along the tidy street, Danny contemplated the heroes and villains of this timeline. It seemed that the Justice League was the top dog when it came to the forces of good. He wasn't sure how to approach them without raising suspicion that a person suddenly coming into existence would certainly cause.

Suddenly, he was struck by a thought so alien to him that he stopped in his tracks and stared blankly ahead.

He didn't have to do anything!

There were no ghost attacks in the news, and thus probably no portal to the Ghost Zone. He hadn't opened a doorway between the Infinite Realms and Earth, and there was nobody who needed help that couldn't be given by any of the local heroes.

Danny realised that didn't feel any pressing need to protect this world. That little part of his core that was always anxious about Amity, about Sam and Tucker, and about the rest of the world was now blissfully quiet. Danny smiled at that, shaking his head and continuing his walk towards what seemed to be a small river.

He also began to notice the stares people around were directing at him and tried to get lost in the crowd - with little luck. It almost seemed that having drawn the attention of the locals, he was standing out as an obvious outsider.

He was starting to get annoyed at the constant attention, when he noticed his ragged sleeve and recalled that he was in fact still covered in suspiciously blood-looking greenish blots. He considered the fact that it was actually blood from his already-healed small scratches was irrelevant.

Cursing quietly, Danny quickly turned into a shady-looking alleyway and made his escape from the public eye by going invisible.

He decided to continue on his course towards the riverside in this way, while mulling over the earlier revelation. The more he thought about it, the more he became convinced that it was a great idea to take a break and get some rest from ghostly affairs. And if he really wanted to go back, he could always find a way to open a portal into the Ghost Zone and find Clockwork. His sort-of mentor, sort-of father figure wouldn't mind helping him with a little nudge towards the right timeline, would he? Besides, the guy probably knew all about Danny's little jaunt across realities. Since there was no sign of him or his cryptic advice, it was entirely reasonable that he approved of the whole thing.

So it was decided: Danny Fenton was going on vacation.

He flipped in the air in excitement and started flying away from the town. Giggling a little at the fact that he still didn't know the name of the first town he visited in this timeline, he froze in place as something occured to him: He had no money, no possessions and didn't know where to go.

Despite not technically needing food or shelter as a ghost, he didn't want to spend his vacation hiding away under his invisibility. And what sort of vacation would it be if he had no money to spend on fun things like videogames and hot dogs?

He figured the solution was simple: He'll just have to find a job.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom #jason todd #tim wayne #i know little of the dc canon and care even less about danny phantom's #canon has a very loose connection to my plans #we are just going by what seems funny to me #delivery ghost au part 4 #delivery ghost #spooky stories #barely proofread this time oops

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