#And then she stares. Into the glass. Looking at her reflection searchingly. And she just screams. And Amanda holds her.
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lastnightonthecyclone · 1 year ago
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me making a Ivan the terrible drawing with Amanda and Lindsey Perez but with a twist
“not every single character in saw needs to have an AU where they’re an apprentice it doesn’t even make sense for so many of them it adds nothing and is annoying and i hate fun” okay but
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#Like her motive to kill Hoffman would also mix with a twisted sense of justice#like she’s not completely vigilante but not entirely dedicated to Amanda.#Also#going back to Perez and Amanda. Like it would be so complicated. Also. Would the blow up Billy doll count as a test.#would hoffman’s attempt to murder her A SECOND TIME count?? I feel like Amanda would try and do a “real test” but honestly? Not really#like I think Amanda would feel a LITTLE bad for her because she’s almost been killed twice.#but also like. A somewhat hostile and domestic relationship at the same time?? And linsdey would have some of Peter’s stuff after he dies.#And as we saw in his interrogation with Jill she would start to mirror that. Also I feel like she would despise Jill.#like passive aggressive. Also. ALSO. She would probably start going to the gym and fighting classes as a defense mechanism.#The result of Hoffman stabbing her would be she’d start taking boxing and fighting classes#and like physically grow stronger in order to protect herself against him.#Like if Amanda tried to surprise her or even like grip her Perez goes on fight or flight immediately.#I’m talking major trauma response induced stuff#Like she’s PHYISCALLY repulsed to people grabbing her.#and before she goes on her full mission she visits her mom and visibly hesitates to hug her.#like I feel like the fact Peter called Perez’s mom when she first went in the hospital and HE was the one to bring the news says something.#so she would spiral like he did when she almost died#and spiral similarly after he dies.#and at the end she would never forgive or forget. But she slowly learns to accept it#but not fully because of her whole apprentice thing#Oh and it would be told and “filmed” similarly to movies like thirteen#last night in soho themes and storytelling. I love the idea of Lindsey’s view#Like she’d start losing herself so badly that it becomes visible. Like the world turning into bright unsettling colors#And she starts becoming more ruthless and snappy. like someone we knew (Strahm)#And there would be a scene where there would be glass and she’s working with Amanda. And she just drops her stuff and falls.#And then she stares. Into the glass. Looking at her reflection searchingly. And she just screams. And Amanda holds her.
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pasteljeon · 6 years ago
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Chapter 1: Peach Blossoms
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Peach Blossom - Prunus persica is a plant garnering most of its fame for its association with the peaches of immortality in Chinese mythos that only arrived once every three thousand years. It harkens in the wedding season of spring with its sweet scent and hues likened to the soft color of a girl’s cheeks. Peach trees are grown throughout China and many parts of the plant are used in traditional medicine. It has always been associated with the sweetness of life and the journey that one must go on to find it. It seems that for the boys, this journey has ended.
➟ Based off this request: I’d like to request a multi-part fic with the reader being a solo!idol and the bts boys perhaps being big fanboy of hers? I’d love to see your take on this. I’d love some down and dirty smut too please! from @/stxrlxghtsora
➟ Summary: He was just a fanboy, they got dragged into it, and so blooms your love story.
➟ Pairing: OT7/Reader, non-idol!BTS, idol!Reader
➟ Warnings: *takes a deep breath* dom!reader, sub!jungkook, sub!jimin, blindfolds, edging, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, oral (male receiving), light bondage, unprotected sex (please use condoms), basically a jikook sandwich & you’re the meat
➟ Length: 5.4k
➟ In collab with @/sugarcookiesandsins - please give her some love! ♡♡
➟ Notes: welcome back to the first instalment of the smut portion of this series haha, we truly hope you all enjoy and we’d love to take any feedback/thoughts you guys have on this chapter! Another reminder that this is a collab, meaning it is a dual effort. Next part will be posted next Wednesday!
Prev. Next (links are still broken, please refer to my masterlist)
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Since that first day of recording, the boys had successfully managed to infiltrate your life. It seemed like they were no longer contest winners, but artists themselves with the way they passed through the front doors of the company on a daily basis. It also didn’t helped that they had become very good friends with your staff. Both Namjoon and Yoongi had brainwashed the producers into a minor collab and you found yourself staring at their faces behind the glass window in the recording studio. It still felt surreal to them that they were contributing to your music like this. Every word that they came up with flowed out your lips like art they would never get tired of hearing.
On the other side of the spectrum, Jungkook was turning into a familiar face in the studio, always being called in to practice the choreography so that both the shooting and the live performances would go smoothly. In the end, seeing how well the raw footage of the first shoot turned out, the CEO had decided to put Kyungin on hold for the promotions of the mini-album. You had just smiled in response at the announcement, not letting more emotion show than was necessary. Turning to the boys who were also present, you grinned at the light in their eyes.
“I guess we’re gonna be spending a lot more time together.”
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“Jungkookie!” He froze, one foot in his Nike sneakers, the other halfway tugged on. Jimin came bounding over, eyeing him and the duffle bag slung over his shoulder suspiciously. “Are you going back to the studio?”
“Ah, yeah,” Jungkook scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “Manager-nim called me in for one final run before tomorrow’s performance.”
“You’re ditching movie night again?” Taehyung called, padding over with one arm cradling a large tub of vanilla ice cream. Jungkook smiled apologetically but could only shrug. “It wasn’t much of a movie night anyway. Namjoon-hyung and Yoongi-hyung are both at Slow Rabbit’s studio working on that new song for Tiger.”
“Wait - in that case, I want to come too!” Jimin exclaimed. Jungkook watched helplessly as the boy pitter pattered around the room, pulling on a black sweatshirt - likely Tae’s, given how it hung over the older’s slimmer frame - and pocketing his phone before trotting to meet him at the door happily.
“I’ll pass today,” Taehyung waved off the youngest’s wordless inquiry. “I’m not feeling that great, to be honest. I think I’ll just binge some Game of Thrones and sleep.”
“Aw, Taehyungie,” Jimin said sympathetically. “Drink lots of warm water and rest up. Get better soon.” The said boy nodded, still spooning dessert into his mouth as he stood at the entrance, waiting until they were out of sight before closing the door behind them.
He draped a thick blanket over himself as he wandered by the living room, setting the tub down and rubbing his eyes wearily.
“Well fuck,” Taehyung sighed as he climbed into bed. “That was my chance to see ___, too.”
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Jungkook entered through the front doors of your company with Jimin beside him. He only sent a nod towards the secretary who smiled back, all too familiar with his presence. He walked past the lobby promptly ignoring those that he did not know as he made his way towards the elevator. Jimin hadn’t said a word either, still partially lost in a daze as the reality still hadn’t quite hit him yet. Excitement and trepidation swelled in his chest. Yes he had been here before, both with the boys and alone. Yes, he no longer needed any verification to pass through the doors. Still, this was the place he had been dreaming about. It would take more than a couple days for it to sink in.
“Hey Jungkook. Think she’ll let me practice some moves too?” It was not a secret to anyone that Jimin still felt off about the fact that he didn’t get the opportunity to dance with ___ on stage, but it had subdued, slightly.
“I don’t know, hyung. If we have a little time, then yeah.” Jungkook really didn’t think so, but he did not want to ruin his hyung’s mood. He had been at his mercy once before and would to anything to avoid being in that situation again.
The elevator door dinged, indicating they had arrived in the basement where the studios were. Your laughter was already discernible among the chatter as noise floated out of the open door of your dance studio. They took a deep breath and walked in fully prepared for -
You turned over your shoulder to greet the boys as they walked in, seeing their reflections in the studio mirrors.
“Hello boys.”
- everything but this. They were prepared for everything but this.
As customary before strenuous exercise, stretching was the first order of business whenever you entered the dance studio. Still, you were not an innocent as you thought and decided to take  advantage of the fact that the boys would be walking in from the door soon. With your back to the entrance,  you were stretching with another one of the female dancers. Legs in a split as she pulled you forward. You weren’t lying flat on the floor, but it was just enough for your t-shirt to ride up and expose your backside, clad in some illegally tight leggings.
Jimin and Jungkook shared a nervous glance and swallowed, as they attempted to drag their gaze away from your figure. One went to the locker rooms to drop his bag off and the other to find a sport with the perfect view of both the floor and the reflection in the mirror.
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“You’re doing that thing again.”
“What thing?” Jungkook felt himself flush under your gaze, still hot and sweaty from the intense session as he laid sprawled on his back, chest heaving. You were similarly collapsed, lying close to his side. His heart thrummed in his ribcage. He swore your tone was edged with something sweet.
“Looking at me like that.”
“Like what?” His lips barely moved, voice hoarse. Your eyes softened, amber irises glowing lightly under the setting rays of the afternoon sun piercing through the windows.
“Like … that.” God, it was a dream. It must’ve been, with the way you stretched your arms out to touch his face. He knew his skin probably felt gross under the grime and layers of sweat coating his bronzed complexion, but you thumbed his cheekbone, peering into him searchingly.
“I …,” his mouth felt dry. He jerked away from you abruptly, sitting up as he turned to stare at the ground. “Ah, I’m not sure … not sure what you mean.”
“Does it make you uncomfortable?” Jungkook felt your heat move away, hurt faintly lacing your tone. “I’m sorry.”
“Ah - noona, no!” His fingers circled your wrist loosely before you could stand. He tugged you back gently, rubbing his neck shyly. “That’s … that’s not it.” He gulped, his grip trembling and cold. “I - I like it. A lot. I like you, noona.” He closed his eyes, hardly daring to breathe at his whispered confession. It seemed to echo in the empty studio, though he knew they had no witnesses, he dimly wondered how pissed Jimin would be once he heard what the youngest had done.
“Jungkook …,” He squeezed his eyes shut tighter, slowly shaking his head as he let go of you. “Um - sorry. Sorry. I’m sorry. That was highly inappropriate of me,” he said hastily, rising to his feet as he bowed to you stiffly, already two feet to the door. “I can - I can ask Jimin to replace me tomorrow. I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologizing.” You whirled him around and he dropped his gaze instantly, unable to withstand looking into those penetrative orbs that housed your goddamn soul.
“Hey, look at me.” You coaxed him softly, tipping his chin up, though he refused to comply. You rested your forehead against his.
“I like you very much, Jungkook,” you said honestly. He made a strangled sound, shoving you away. “You’re - you’re lying right? There’s no way,” he stammered. This was too cruel. He slipped from your hold, ducking and scrambling toward the exit once more, grabbing his bag as he passed it.
“Jungkook.” Your tone was firm, unwavering. He dropped his bag the moment you slammed him against the mirrors. “N - noona.” His body reacted instantly, your smoldering gold eyes, your unyielding grip on his arms as you pressed them above his head. He tensed as you smiled down at him.
He made no move to resist as you leaned in, your eyelashes tickling his skin. The first dip of your head was light, tentative and testing, lips barely grazing his. You pulled back to see Jungkook melting into your touch, cheeks pink as he murmured shyly, “Please, noona.”
You kissed him tenderly, releasing him so he could wrap a hesitant arm around your waist and pull you closer. His heart was fluttering in his throat and he didn’t want to overstep his boundaries - where was the line drawn, anyway? - but you quickly dismissed any of his reservations as the kiss grew heated, his tongue tracing the seam of your lower lip.
“W-what about Jimin?” He tore his lips from yours, already panting heavily as his head spun. God, he could barely think.
“What about him?” You tilted your head curiously.
“He - he likes you too.” Oh fuck, Jungkook was going to get his ass beat for admitting this. But he had a feeling you -
A startled squeak had the two of you whipping your heads to the door, where a horrified Jimin was holding an armful of water bottles.
“Oh, haha,” he laughed awkwardly, already beginning to back away as his eyes darted to the side. Jungkook cursed inwardly when he saw the tears pooling though the older boy tried in vain to blink them away.
“Hyung, wait!” Jimin dropped the bottles, desperately searching for an exit as he clasped a hand over his mouth. He skidded through the empty hallways, picking turns at random. His head throbbed, heart twisting. Nothing registered but his laboured breathing and hiccups.
But Jungkook was always faster.
“Let - go!” Jimin struggled as Jungkook dragged him back. Tears that had welled at the corners of his eyes fell freely now and he busied himself by using his free arm to swipe at them angrily.
“Jimin. Shh, it’s okay.” He relaxed slightly when he heard your voice, cooing sweetly into his ear. He felt your hands cup his cheeks delicately and he sniffled.
“Noona,” he blubbered. “I like you - I love you, p-please don’t leave me alone!”
“Jimin, baby, never.” He kissed you back hard, pulling you flush to his body as you tangled your fingers in his thick locks. You smiled affectionately at him as you parted, lifting the hem of your shirt to dry the remainder of his tears.
“I want you,” Jimin gasped, half delirious already, completely forgetting that moments ago he had been trying to escape the image of you and Jungkook. He felt unbelievably hot where your skin met his, and would be willing to do anything to get rid of it. He even seemed to forget that Jungkook was watching all this go down from his end of the hallway as you were shoved against the wall, mouths meeting in a clash of lip and teeth that would one day go down in history.
You allowed him this small mercy, before every cell in your body screamed at you to take control. So you did. Smirking at the odd sense of deja vu, you grabbed his hip and spun your bodies around before locking his wrists against the roughness of the wall and slipping a thigh between his, already feeling the heat from his core touch yours. Against the fabric of your leggings, you could feel the bulge at the front of his jeans.
The dark-haired man looked on from afar as he remembered being held by you in the same position and the way your eyes looked down into his before you stole his voice from his throat. Then the red hot crept up from behind him as his wide eyes began to glare at the image before him. It should be him in that position, not Jimin hyung. Deciding that it was time to bring your attention back to him, he crept up behind you and nibbled on the shell of your ear, causing your own moans to mix with that of Jimin’s.
“Noona hasn’t forgotten about me right?” His voice was a low whisper, the perfect image of a dejected, lonely pet. Freeing up a hand, you reached behind your head to tug gently at Jungkook's hair while pulling away from Jimin. Immediately, his empty mouth latched onto your neck, fulfilling that promise he made to himself the first day he saw you. You gasped out a sweet assurance.
“I’ll never forget you, baby boy.” Your eyes closed in ecstasy as the feeling of two mouths tasting your skin. Even without knowing who was in front or in behind, you could tell from their actions. Jungkook came at you hard and fast, with more teeth pulling at your flesh. On the other hand, there was something softer about Jimin, more reverent as he worshiped you with his plump lips, caressing sweet spots you didn’t even know you had.
In a flash, you remembered where you were: not in the privacy of your dance studio. Using your remaining strength to push them away, you ignored their faces of shock before grabbing both of them and dragging them back to the studio. Once you were inside, you turned quickly and locked the door behind you, extra precaution against any nosy workers.
The boys were still lost in the high that you gave them, much to distracted by the blossoming marks on your neck to care about their reputations. They shared small glance, a silent agreement that this was ok. All of it would be ok, as long as they got you.
They came at you again, this time taking their shirts off in the five strides it took to reach your position. Their blood was rushing through their veins and pounding in their ears, rationality far too gone to care at this point.
You ran a hand down their chests, marvelling at the hard planes of muscle that contracted beneath your touch. Their bodies were chiselled to perfection, lithe and toned from years of strenuous training. They were both trembling, senses heightened and anticipation twisting in their stomachs as they arched into your palm.
“Behave, boys,” you murmured, nails digging into their soft flesh. They gasped aloud, almost in unison. You trailed your hand up to palm their erections, tugging at their balls gently.
“Fuck,” Jimin whined, canting his hips against you as he struggled to obey. Next to him, Jungkook looked like he was barely breathing at all, skin flushed as he tossed his head back and forth. Ah. He was a sensitive one. You licked your lips. So many possibilities.
You tweaked his nipple playfully, Jungkook crying out deliciously. He squirmed, voice breaking as he pleaded, “Noona, d-don’t tease me!”
“But it’s so fun, baby,” you crooned, squeezing his length through his sweats. Jungkook moaned, unable to resist from grinding into your hand.
“I’ll be good, noona, please!” He was at his wits end. This was a side of you he had only dreamed about existing, let alone experiencing. He had seen that attitude you gave off on set and in the dance practice, but he thought that it was a persona you followed for the theme. Seeing you with your silken words and evil smile, playing his body with well-practiced fingers, he could do nothing but submit.
Jimin on the other hand, was too obsessed with the collar of your t-shirt. Your face had been flushed a soft pink when he had taken advantage of you in the hallway. The pastel color had dipped under the neckline of the thin material, and he was wondering silently if you let him follow the color as far as it took him. Impatient to see you, he made grabby hands at the edge of your top. You wasted no time in shutting him down.
“Tsk. Tsk. Does Jiminie want to get punished?” The look in your eyes promised many things as you continued to tease Jungkook over the fabric of his pants with one hand and grabbing at Jimin with the other, staring dead into his brown irises. This made Jimin stop. He didn’t want to risk angering you, so he just avoided your gaze. “No noona. Please don’t punish Jiminie. He only wanted to see you.”
On the other hand, Jungkook saw what you were promising and decided that if he died under you, then he would die a happy man, so why hesitate? Avoiding your hands that were still caressing his bulge, he too proceeded to tug on your shirt. In surprise, you turned to him, eyebrow raised.
Still, the look he gave you in return, a shy half smile, that said more than words ever could told you exactly what he wanted and you were all too happy to oblige.
“Noona doesn’t like it when her boys don’t listen.” You gently raked your nails down their abs one last time before getting up and making your way towards the costume stand. You could feel their stares on your back as your fingers riffled through ironed jackets to find what you were looking for. Turning quickly, you hid the object behind your back before they could take a peek at what you were bringing out. You returned to kneeling before the two of them, Jungkook on your right and Jimin on your left.
You wanted to continue, but there were rules to be established first. Though you were quite assured they would be up for anything with the trusting gleam in their eyes, it was still better to be safe than sorry.
“Rule 1. If, at anytime, you want me to stop, for any reason, say ‘microwave��. Are we clear?” You were firm in your tone. You wanted to make this just as pleasurable for them, but you were not so acquainted with them - not enough to have a thorough understanding of their likes and dislikes, particularly in the bedroom. All you knew was that they would look oh so pretty tied to the headboard of your bed.
Jimin and Jungkook nodded, unable to say anything as the tips of their cocks rubbed against the fabric of their boxers causing some precum to leak out and soak the cotton. Their bodies were tense when your soft hand caressed their cheeks lovingly, eyes showing quelled lust as you established the law of the jungle.
“Rule 2 and Rule 3. You call me noona and you don’t cum till I say you can.” Now you were getting into the territory that caused their hearts to pump blood faster through their system.
“Yes noona.” They barely moaned out an answer as they felt your slim fingers leave their cheeks to trail teasingly down their chests, painted nails not forgetting to graze their pebbled nipples.
Pushing them down, you felt yourself dampen at the sight of them sprawled on the ground, peering up at you though half-lidded eyes. Their silky locks were mussed and they looked fucked out, chests rising and a sheen of sweat glistening on golden, bare skin.
“Tell me if you’re not okay with this,” you whispered, crawling to them until you hovered over Jungkook, a black scarf dangling from one hand. You pinched his inner thigh when you felt his member twitch at the sight. His eyes fluttered closed in anticipation, a soft noise escaping his throat as he propped his head up slightly to allow you to wrap it around him firmly.
Jimin inhaled sharply when you smoothed back the hair at his temple. “Are you going to be good for me, baby?” You swallowed his ghost of a yes as it touched your lips. You checked both boys, ensuring both blindfolds were secure, before sitting back on your heels.
Tugging at the waistband of their sweatpants, you quickly shimmied them off. Swinging a leg over Jungkook’s leg, you settled yourself lightly over thighs. Smirking, you blew gently at his length, relishing in the choked moan that resulted. A wet patch had already pooled at his tip, though you took pity on the poor boy who had begun squirming under your grasp. You freed his erection from the confines of his boxers, and bit your lower lip as it slapped lewdly against his stomach, leaking profusely. It was surprisingly longer than you’d expected, curved at an angle you knew would later prove to be your undoing.  
Jimin, on the other hand, was slightly shorter, though quite girthy. “So pretty,” you cooed. He flushed scarlet, precum beading at his reddened tip at your words. You filed that information away for later, though you should have picked up on it from the start - praise is the way to go. Then again, that wouldn’t be hard. Compliments came easy when you looked upon his form, flushed, needy, and completely under your control.
Taking it to the next step, you wrapped your hand around the base, squeezing to test his reaction. “Noona,” he nearly screamed out from the sensation. It was too much between feeling your soft thighs against his legs and your hand encompassing his member. You released your hold on him as you got up to go get something else you had seen among the fabric of your stage outfits. As you walked, you quickly ditched your own top and pants, the sudden cold near your core indicating just how excited you were.
The next object to be retrieved from the costume area was a white feather, salvaged from a stage costume of a past album. It was smooth and silky to the touch, individual strands thinner than you ever thought possible slipping in between your fingers as you tested the item. Once the blindfolds were in position, the boys felt their other senses heighten, yet they were unable to make out anything other than the shuffling of your body against the floor.
The boys were alone in the silence, unable to prepare for what came next as their ears could only hear shallow breaths echoing off the walls of the studio. Jungkook was the first to writhe as he felt something soft trace the edge of one nipple, sending shockwaves up to his brain. “Please don’t tease Kookie, noona. He’ll be a good boy. He’ll be your good -.” His words were swallowed in a moan as you switched out the feather for your hands, rubbing his swollen nipple between the pads of your fingers.
“I know you’ll be good baby. You want to make noona happy, don’t you?” You allowed him one more caress before you transferred the feather to your other hand, intent on hearing the same beautiful music from the older boy.
Jimin could tell from the way Jungkook sounded that you were playing with the younger boy. This made Jimin a little annoyed as he felt his member twitch with excitement at the prospects of what you were doing. He wanted to feel that. Now.
“Jiminie will make you happy noona,“ he mewled out - a feeble attempt to bring your focus back on him.  
You smiled at his obvious desire to please and decided to reward him for it. You forgoed playing with Jimin’s chest and focused on his member standing to attention. A strangled mewl came from Jimin as you circled the base of his cock with the feather, enjoying as the owner squirmed at the sensation. You circled lower, just catching his balls with the soft sensation before circling back up.
Jimin let out a low curse, “fuck me.” You giggled, a soft sound that contradicted the ruthlessness with which you were playing their bodies. “That’s the idea sweetie,” you crooned out.
Alternating between the soft silk of the feather and the roughness of your nails, you played with boys, basking in the noises of pleasure that they made. You stretched their self control to the limits as you brought them to the edge of euphoria and back multiple times, causing their cheeks to be slick with tears as the sensations were too much.
Deciding that the wait had been long enough, you stripped out of your undergarments, setting them to the side before hitching a leg over Jimin’s waist. His body was wracked in tremors as he waited for you to please fucking sit on me.
Both of you moaned in tandem as you sank down on his length. You littered purple flowers over the expanse of his exposed neck as you adjusted to the slight stretch. “You look so beautiful like this,” you mused breathlessly. Jimin whimpered, already close from all your previous teasing.
“You’re not allowed to come, do you understand?” You rasped. “No, please, I c-can’t hold it!” He whined, and you stopped immediately. Large hands snaked up your torso to cup at your breasts, fondling them gently as a pair of lips suckled at your shoulder. Jungkook pressed his stiff length against your back, arms wound tightly around as he pressed himself closer. “Noona,” he murmured.
You reached back and ran your finger through his sweat-soaked locks. “Yes baby,” you questioned, as you slowly sank back down on Jimin, simultaneously rubbing your ass against Jungkook.
“Can I -?” You rose back on your knees, keeping only Jimin’s tip lodged in you as you used the other hand to reach behind you and rub down Jungkook’s length. His words were lost to the sensation and his sentence remained floating in the air between you.
“Did you say something baby?” His only response was to thrust helplessly in your hand as his fingers played with your breasts, gently pulling and tugging as the soft mounds.
Below you, you felt Jimin get closer and closer to his climax as you rode him faster and faster, lust beginning to cloud your senses as well. His words were incoherent at this point, saliva leaking out the sides of his mouth as he begged for release. “Please. Can I come? Please let me come.”
“So then come baby,” you hummed, clenching on him as Jimin choked, gasping as ropes of hot cum filled your pussy.
“No, Jungkook.” You could feel him panting heavily against you, length twitching. Jungkook whimpered softly; he was so close, the feeling of your ass and hands against his cock.
“Fuck, I’m sorry - !” You felt it drip down the sweaty expanse of your skin, trailing warmth in its path.
You sighed. Jungkook lowered his head, pressing his forehead against your spine. “Punish me … please.”
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You lost count of the number of orgasms you’d pulled from the boys. The studio was engulfed in the dying rays of the sun and any sense of time had disappeared in this bubble you’d created for the three of you.
“Noona - please, please!” Jungkook wailed loudly, head tossing side to side as he arched his back, fingers scrabbling for some kind of purchase from where they scratched at the air. His wrists were pinned above his head, bouncing on his cock as he cried.
“I-it’s too much, please,” Jimin’s hoarse voice pleaded from above you, his own hands tied to his back as your teeth scraped the delicate flesh of his length. His thighs trembled as he struggled to keep himself upright, barely registering the bruising of his knees, head spinning in delicious delirium. It was borderline painful, the way you sucked his balls, forcing his cherub cock into a state of half-hardness. “Noona,” Jimin sobbed, throwing his head back as you ran your tongue over his slit. Fuck, fuck! He moaned brokenly as he came. You licked your lips, swallowing the sad dribble of cum that he’d managed to produce.
His knees caved instantly, sending Jimin slumping onto the ground, skin on fire and cheeks coated in dried tears.
Jungkook, on the other hand, was fucking losing his mind. “Please, noona, Kookie’s b-been a g-good boy, please, noona, can I come?” He babbled senselessly, eyes rolling to the back of his head as his hips rose to meet your vicious thrusts.
“Come for me,” you breathed, digging your nails into his chest. Jungkook keened, writhing as he came, the feeling of your walls squeezing his deprived cock sending him careening over the edge as you fucked him through the height of his pleasure.
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After both boys hit their high, your name like a prayer on their lips, the three of you took a moment to come back down, not willing to let the memory of what just happened fade away too soon. They were both a verified mess, cum glistening on their skin, mixing with the sweat that resulted from your overstimulation. Both their eyes were half shut under the blindfolds, delirious from fatigue.
They looked absolutely divine.
Seeing as you were the one in most control of your faculties, you got up from the floor, looking down again at the two of them,both very close to falling asleep on the ground. Whispering softly, you promised them that you would be back soon. Walking to the door, you made sure it was locked before grabbing a towel and a water bottle from your backpack, as well as a large hoodie to cover your body.
Wetting the towel and taking off the eye cloth, you proceeded to wipe their bodies down, cleaning them off as you whispered praise. Jimin was first.
“You did so well, baby boy.” The towel passed down his chest around his pelvis, and down to his thighs. “Was that okay?” He could only hmm in response, much too tired to produce words.
Jungkook was next, and to your surprise, looking directly at you with his large eyes, soft demeanor contradicting the mess on his body. You smile softly and ran your fingers through his locks, slightly damp from sweat. “And what about you baby?”
He leaned his head into your touch and turned to kiss your palm, blushing as he spoke, “I-I liked it a lot __-noona.” You cooed in response as his face got redder before focusing all your attention on caring for their bodies. You shifted to grab the towel and exposing a clean section, traced his body again with the damp cloth. You then proceeded to toss the towel in the direction of your backpack so you didn’t accidentally leave it behind for an unsuspecting staff member to pick up. That would be cruel.
The water bottle was used next, as you lifted their heads up slightly to allow the water to wet their dry throats. Being vocal had its downsides too. Then you got them semi clothed, working with what little strength they had left to put on boxers and their t-shirt. Ensuring that the door was locked, you placed yourself between them. They would obviously have to go back to their home, but there was nothing stopping them from pretending that they did not have lives outside of the studio. That there was nothing stopping them spending eternity together.
You lost yourself in the warmth of the boys, half in desperation at the thoughts that clouded your mind. You had no idea how they would be able to interact with you after this. You had no idea what ‘this’ was, even.
As if sensing your panic, Jimin was the first to turn and wrap his arms around you, pulling up close and looking into the eyes that had captivated him for years. He could see the apprehension in your eyes, and it would be pretty idiotic for him to not understand the root cause. Still, for now he would enjoy this bliss with you. Jungkook turned as well, slipping an arm under your neck and slinging the other over your waist as he spooned you from behind.
Then until the sun set, three bodies lay in silence allowing time to slow in this immortal garden you had created.
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pi-cat000 · 6 years ago
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MSA time travel idea (part 14)
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Vivi POV, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Lewis POV, Part 12, Part 13
Part 15: here
Arthur glares at his reflection, leaning closer to the mirror's surface, scanning for imperfections. He’s been managing between four and five hours sleep a night with a careful combination of sleeping pills, anxiety meds and monitoring his caffeine intake. The dark circles, which had started to develop, are smaller and less noticeable. His younger body appears to be adapting to the sudden change in lifestyle decently enough. It’s amazing what a person is capable of when they haven’t spent several weeks lying in a hospital ward or worked themselves half to death. He stares and pulls his expression into a cheerful grin. It’s warm, inviting, the sort of smile you gave a friend upon hearing a particularly humours joke.
Perfect.
To double check, he glances down at his phone which is propped up by the mirror. A photo depicting him, Vivi and Lewis mid-laugh, school gates in the background, stares up at him. After coming to the uncomfortable realisation that he’s failing in the ‘being Arthur’ department and causing unneeded stress, he has been putting a bit more effort into engaging and being more sociable when Lewis and Vivi are around. Hence the search through his computer and phone for as many pictures of himself as possible to use as a reference. There’s not a whole lot because he has never been a huge fan of photos but the ones he does find all show him either grimacing in exasperation or grinning happily alongside Lewis and Vivi. Currently, he has one as a screensaver and a few others stuffed into his wallet for extra material. The three of them, together, happy. It’s weird seeing pictures of Lewis again. After The Cave, he had had to delete or hide away most of them so Vivi wouldn't accidentally see one and have an episode. He reaches to pick up the phone and fumbles with his left hand, almost knocking it into the toilet.
“Arthur,” Uncle Lance yells, voice filtering in from the garage, “You were plannin to leave a half hour ago. You’re not makin those friends of yours wait again are you.”
After a bit of awkward juggling, he manages to circumvent the disaster, and he lets out a long breath of relief.
“It’s okay. Everything’s on track,” Arthur calls, then flushes the toilet, letting out a tired huff. Lance isn’t one to hover, but he has been a whole lot more watchful this last week. Despite Vivi’s instance that he talk to his Uncle, he has yet to broach the topic of his odd behaviour, and Lance hasn’t openly called him out, so he’s been avoiding it mostly. It’s a familiar routine at the very least.
“You goin to keep in touch while on this road trip? Or am I just goinin to have to trust ya not to get murdered,” Lance comments when he tramps out into the reception, thin fibber door clicking behind. Arthur scoops up his overstuffed backpack and shoulder bag from the disused reception desk, slinging one over a shoulder.
“Yeah. Of course,” he gives the grin a trial run, “I’ll give you a call when we stop for the night. Unless there’s no reception, then I’ll call you tomorrow,”
His uncle frowns at him searchingly, “See that ya do,”
He doesn’t remember Lance being this worried on his first time around, but it’s possible he’s just forgotten.
“I will,” he does a small wave, stepping towards the front door, “Guess I’ll see you in a mouth then,”
This van is parked out front, full tank, packed with supplies, ready to go. All he has to do is pick up Vivi and Lewis from the Pepper’s diner.
Before he makes it through the doorway, Lance grabs his lower arm, pulling him up short, “You get inta any trouble you give me a call, ya hear.”
Lance is about a head shorter than him, so he has to bend at an odd angle. Thankfully, he doesn’t flinch at the sudden contact, but it’s a near thing.
“We’re doing regular touristy things. You know, the Grand Canyon, Mt. Rushmore, stuff like that.”
“I’ll be fine.”
Hopefully.
Lance grumbles inaudible complaints under his breath and lets his arm go, giving a stern nod. Arthur rolls his eye’s good-naturedly, squashing a chuckle, amazed at how natural the interaction feels. The comfortable sensation lasts up until he turns back towards his van. It’s bright orange, shinning with a fresh coat of lacquer.
There is no ‘Mystery Skulls’ logo.  
His smile falters, falling away. Of all the things he thought he would change this hadn’t been one of them. Vivi and Lewis had decided to hold off finishing the van’s design under the mistaken impression that Arthur disapproved of it. A by-product of blaming his recent change in behaviour on a fear of supernatural phenonium.  How the hell do you explain that it’s not the supernatural generally that’s the problem, just their groups' tendency to run into danger with lethal outcomes. An increase in hovering by both his friends means that any excuse or reasoning he tries needs to be airtight or risk being picked apart by a hyper-attentive Vivi and overly watchful Lewis. So... no ‘Mystery Skulls’ logo.  
With a sigh, he approaches, running his left hand across its smooth, unmarked, surface. Somewhat forcefully, he yanks open the door, throwing his bag into the back and settling into the driver’s seat. Time to go pick up his overly attentive friends and spend the next few weeks exclusively in their company, with no breaks and possibly sharing the same tent and the motel rooms.
He’s so not ready for this. If they don’t notice his weird sleeping habits, then they are sure to see when he inevitably slips up in his acting. Arthur slaps his cheeks with both hands, taking a few more deep breaths, thinking of Vivi and Lewis, both of whom were waiting.
It’s too late to worry about that now. Everything is okay. This will be fine.  
The van rumbles to life and he waves at Lance one last time. The older man is standing in the doorway, arms crossed, eye’s tracking Arthur as he expertly reverses and spins the van onto the highway.
Pepper Paradiso is located on the same highway as Kingsman Mechanics, just on the opposite side of town. It’s hard to miss, being painted in bright shades of pink and purple. Sporting wide, stain-glass windows, the building is almost alarming in its contrast with the browns and dull greens of the surrounding desert.
“Arthur!”
Vivi greats as he pulls in, bobbing about in poorly contained excitement. The smoothly paved lot encircling the Pepper’s diner is mostly empty, not uncommon for the early morning, and he pulls straight into a spot near double door entrance. Lewis is in standing by the doors in the middle of what looks like a family huddle. Both senior Peppers are there, and he’s got one of his little sisters sitting atop his shoulders. A wistful smile tugs at Arthur’s lips. There had been many days during his extended quest to find Lewis dominated by the fear that he would fail and never see the Pepper family, happy, all together, ever again.
Vivi jogs up, and Arthur shakes the melancholic thoughts away, winding down his window so he can hear her while he finishes up parking. Mystery is trotting alongside her, and he tries not to give the dog any overt attention. This last week he’s been working the gauge how much Mystery knows but the dog is just too good at being a dog for him to get a proper read.
“There you are. Almost thought you’d forgotten again. Then we would have had to postpone things till the afternoon and miss a whole day’s worth of driving.”
Arthur can almost taste the slight underlining tension which now pops up whenever he forgets or doesn’t behave in a way that’s expected. Vivi’s on the lookout for behaviour flags. Luckily, he’s got a lot of experience dodging Vivi’s pointed questions.
“Yeah, sorry, it took me more time to pack than I anticipated. Also, Lance wanted to say bye as well. That took a bit longer than I thought it would.”
He hits her with the grin he’s just spent the last half hour perfecting in the mirror. It’s a success because Vivi relaxes and grins back.
“Haha. You’re not the only one,” She gestures at Lewis and his family huddle, “You would think he’s leaving for good with the way they’re acting.”
“They are a pretty affectionate people,” he responds, quashing the strain in his voice. Vivi doesn’t notice, now focused on Lewis again. Don’t think about it. This time Lewis is going to return. He’ll make sure of it.
“Hey, Lew. Look who finally showed up,” Vivi calls over, waving. Lewis, one sister still on his shoulders and another dragging at his arm, tries to turn and almost topples over. Vivi snorts in amusement. Her shout also attracts the attention of Lewis’s family. Cayenne, the little red-haired menace, immediately runs over to jump around just below his window.  
“Arthur. Arthur is this your van! It’s cool. Can I come in? Pleeaasse.”
“You’ve been in the van before,” He says with only a slight hint of apprehension. Cayenne used to be pretty big on pranking from what he remembers. After Lewis’s disappearance, her Arthur-targeted jokes had become less frequent, almost non-existent.  But, since that hasn’t happened, he should probably be on the lookout.
“But now it’s orange!” Cayenne shouts enthusiastically, jumping up, trying to get a look in.  
Vivi sniggers, “She’s got you there Arthur.”
He opens his mouth to object but is beaten to it by Lewis, “I’m sure the van’s too full to fit you in. Maybe, when we get back, Arthur will give you a ride if you ask nicely.”
“Aww. No fair,”  Cayenne pouts, throwing a look back towards Mr and Ms Pepper like she is hoping for Lewis’s verdict to be overridden.  
Lewis crosses his arms, appearing about as stern as one can with Paprika, who’s covered in copious amounts of ribbon and lace, sitting on his shoulders, clinging and messing up his hair.
“Cayenne,” comes an amused grumble from the older Pepper, “Make yourself useful and go help Belle with your brother’s bag,”
A few feet away Belle is attempting to move Lewis’s fully packed duffle-bag with minimal success. Arthur swears Cayenne gives him the evil eye on her way past, and he shivers, feeling like he’s dodged a bullet. Paprika also scrambles down off Lewis’s shoulders to join Cayenne. Together, the three girls manage to lift the bag despite taking the time to stop and squabble among themselves.
Lance sighs, watching his sisters merger progress, and loosens, turning to an amused Vivi, “She’s had this thing about fart bombs this last week. Don’t know where they’ve come from but I, for one, don’t want to suffer for the next eight hours.”
Vivi laughs, “Good thinking.”
Mystery barks, jumping around, acting every bit the excited dog, energised by the surrounding activity.
They watch Cayenne, Belle and Paprika attempt to drag over Lewis’s bag, stumbling when Mystery gets caught underfoot. He ends up climbing out of the van to help Vivi load up her last two packs, one of which is full of books going by the weight, while she runs off to corral her fake dog.  So far, everything’s off to a good start. Lewis is too distracted saying goodbye to his family and Vivi is fussing over Mystery.
Now. If Arthur can just keep it together for the next eight hours, then everything would be perfect.
Note: Had a bit of a dip in motivation to write recently. Luckily, you can always count on long-ass train trips to bore me into productivity.
Part 15: here
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faslaidir · 7 years ago
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23) things you said on the streetcar at 1am for a pairing of your choice ;D ❤
She put out her arms to steady herself and began walking along the edge of the curb, swaying and laughing as she moved, but somehow keeping her balance. He reached his arms out as if to steady her, but he was almost as drunk as she was, and thus completely useless to her. Between breathless laughter, he tried to gather his thoughts.
“Shouldn’t we…shouldn’t we get you home?” His gasping breath exited his mouth in wisps of mist, born upwards by the cold January wind.
“Oh fuck you,” was her giggling reply, as she grabbed for a street lamp and swung around it, the palm of her hand creating an awful screeching noise from the metal as she moved. “You’re as pissed as I am.”
He moved towards her, stamping his feet against the sidewalk in an effort to warm them. “Kate,” he pleaded, desperately trying to fend off his own fit of giggles. He reached for her hand, waggling his fingers in his freezing fingerless gloves at her. “Come on, let’s…let’s call a cab. Ahhhh, Maker’s breath…I can’t feel my nose.”
This prompted Kate to start very loudly singing Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, and Cullen practically staggered into her so that he could cover her mouth with his hand. “Shhh, shhh, Andraste’s bloody mabari, you’ll get us arrested!”
Kate wrenched his hand away from her mouth, then held it in her clutches beneath her chin, resting his freezing fingers against her skin until her warmth began to sneak into his hand. “What time is it?”
“It’s…” Cullen fumbled for his phone with his free hand, hauling it out and pounding against the home button until the screen blinked on. He squinted, not willing to produce his glasses, and fought the glare of the street lamp. “It’s 12:47.”
“Oh!” She flung his hand down away from her and took off at an awkward, unsteady run. “Come on! The streetcar leaves at 1!”
“Streetcar?!” Cullen spluttered, already missing the warmth of her chin against his fingers. “Can’t we just call a cab–”
“Come on you knob!”
He groaned, but took off after her, spitting out silly giggles as he watched her do her damnedest to keep running in a straight line. Her long coat kept flapping behind her at awkward angles, and he felt the strangest desire to reach out and give it a good yank. He resisted (he was drunk but not that drunk), and they were able to round another corner with Cullen hard on her heels before Kate finally slowed, leaning over as though she were sick.
“Kate?” He called, jogging up to her side and bending over to check on her.
She shook her head with a pinched expression. “I’m fine, I’m fine, I just…whoo I should not run so soon after drinking.”
Cullen bit back a smile, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I did suggest a cab.”
“I am aware.” She straightened and flashed him a grin. “It’s just down the block now. We can walk.”
“Alright.” He turned towards the direction she pointed, then started as he felt her arms wrapping around one of his. He glanced down at her embrace, catching her eye as he did, and offering her a surprised, warm smile. She smiled back, a little ruefully, and tugged him forward.
The neon lights of the shops and bars (most of which were closed already) shone from their posts high above the street and glowed in the reflection of the puddles on the sidewalk. A rainbow of lights lit their faces as they walked; vivid blues, greens, and reds, that cast marked shadows across their skin and played tricks with their hair. Kate watched Cullen’s curls with an amused smirk on her face, enjoying how his golden hair soaked up the colors of every light and changed its hue every few seconds. Cullen, meanwhile, could feel himself glowing with warmth at the touch of her arms about his, and kept his eyes forward so he wouldn’t somehow cock it all up.
There were only a few people waiting for the streetcar at the little station, so Kate and Cullen were easily able to find seats on the car’s bench. Kate hissed as the exposed wood, which had soaked up the cold air like a sponge, touched against her legs. Cullen huffed a sympathetic breath, watching as it spiraled away from him into the night.
“A cab,” he insisted again.
“Shut it,” Kate murmured, as the driver rang the streetcar’s bell and they pulled forward with a slight lurch.
She hadn’t let go of his arm. He gloried in that as he settled back against the achingly cold back of the seat and tried to find a comfortable position. A weight on his shoulder and the scent of tropical fruit surprised him, and he glanced down. She had leaned her head against him, her eyes closed as though she intended to doze off in comfort against his jacket.
His heart beat faster in his chest. Too fast. She lifted her head off his shoulder and glanced up at him searchingly. “Is this…not okay?”
“No!” He replied, much faster than he meant to. He tried again with more composure. “No, I…it’s fine. Go ahead.”
She leaned against him again, and he breathed out a contented sigh. The feeling of her pressed against him in a soft, possibly romantic touch filled him with warmth, enough to drive away all chill from the little streetcar bench or the surrounding air of early morning. He eyed the brown hair at the top of her head for a long moment, considering pressing a kiss to it or running a reverent hand over it, but decided to let the moment be. This was enough for now.
She exhaled, a strangled sound that tried to drag words out after it. “I…”
He looked down, but she stared off into the distance, shifting her fingers about his arm, finding a more comfortable position.
“My parents,” she said, in a steady but far away voice. “My parents died. In a car accident. So I don’t ride in cars anymore.”
“I…oh.”
“No, I…I just mean…” she breathed, and nuzzled her cheek closer to him, closing her eyes. “Thanks. I know streetcars are a pain, but…thanks.”
“Of course,” he replied, his voice low.
He watched her for a moment, noting the way her chest rose and fell with each heavy breath she drew. He breathed his own sigh, then leaned his cheek against the top of her head, settling into her as she settled into him, and closed his eyes. She made no protest, and he smiled.
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