#Bed Frames Industry Shares

[fueledbysano]

𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐘 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐒! Sae Itoshi

you're his guilty pleasure, his wildest fantasies and dirty secret.

♱ content/warnings: MDNI. afab!reader, unprotected sex, implied m masturbation, sae being a simp for you

♱ a/n: I initially wrote for the other boys too but I got impatient so I'm posting this first 😋

♱ tags: @blueparadis @tokyometronetwork

♱ wc: 0.7k

When he overheard from the guests that his favorite model was watching the match, Sae got distracted from his deep train of pre-game thoughts. His teammates were silenced in a heartbeat when Sae hastily got up from the bench and out of the locker room, visibly in a sense of urgency.

“Find [ Y / N ] [ L / N ]. And give her the best field side seat. I don’t care if they’re filled, find a way.” He instructed the men lined before him.

So when you were told that “Sae Itoshi got you a VIP seat.”, it was something you cannot decline. You came to support his team, but it was to your surprise that Sae even knew about your existence.

The game went smoothly and his team won by a landslide of goals. While you were shown on the big screen in between breaks and the hosts commenting on your presence, your favorite part of the game was sharing an eye contact or two with Sae. So once the game was over, you pulled every string you could to get a hold of the man. You just had to meet him.

“Miss [ Y / N ] [ L / N ] requests to meet you at the country club.” Although it would’ve been more convenient if his security didn’t blurt it out in the team’s locker room, Sae felt proud that he practically got asked out by one of today’s hottest models in front of the other guys.

“Damn, I guess you’re ditching our celebration for your reward?” Sendo banters. “Yeah, screw you, guys.” Sae flatly spoke before changing into casual clothing. “What happened to ‘I want nothing but to be the world’s best’?!”

Sae couldn’t believe it— he’s exactly the man he once mocked. Walking blocks in risk of being seen by fans and media, all to meet you. So as soon as he sees you by the bar counter, he makes his presence known with a gentle tap on your shoulder. You made sure to thank him for giving you a vip seat before buying drinks for each other. The place was cozy enough to keep you conversing, like the usual ‘getting to know’ lines. But this time, it was actually interesting to have a date with someone who was famous in a whole other industry.

However, the night fell darker, and more and more people started to recognize the two of you. So in a leap of faith, you invited Sae into a more private domicile.

“Nghmmh! Sae~ s’too big…” You could tell that your risk paid off when Sae practically had you fold in half on the bed; your legs lifted to his shoulders and his fat cock buried in full penetration inside you. “You deserve it, angel…” Sae weakly smiled in an airy breath, hindering himself from cumming too soon.

He’d thought about this very moment on several occasions, especially right from the first time he saw your voluptuous frame and beautiful face on the cover of Vogue. Sae was too overwhelmed with wild and filthy thoughts when he’s practically living a lot of men’s wildest fantasies. “Pretty princess~” Sae spoke in between kisses on the surface of your cleavage. “Just as perfect as I imagined~”

Your grip on his biceps tightened when Sae’s fingers started tracing over your curves. “D-don’t stop, please, Sae…” You suggestively bit your lip before taking his hand up to your lips and sucking on his thumb whilst keeping hot eye contact. Sae almost came from the gesture, but instead, you felt him rut his hips harshly into yours, your toes curling in an instant as his tip kissed your cervix

Sae had you moaning his name again and again, just as much as you made him moan and jerk to your magazine bikini photos.

Sae was strong and skillful in his movements. He left no inch of you unattended. Not when he had one hand grabbing your breast like his personal stress ball, his thumb circling your clit in eight figures, and his lips practically making out with your thigh all while pushing his length to the deepest ends of your tight cunt.

Sae Itoshi had just officially made himself the best hookup of your life.

[maletfwitch]

Can you maybe write a story where Nick Fury and Steve Rogers swap bodies?

Steve couldn’t believe what was happening Nick Fury stood there accusing him of Serious crimes such as stealing and sharing important documents. He tried to explain that he was being framed and set up but Nick wasn’t having it.

“Since you’re currently deemed untrustworthy I'm afraid you’ll have to be punished and won’t be able to perform your duties as Captain America,” Nick told Steve.

Security then helped escort them into a Lab where Tony Stark was present. Steve tried to ask what they were doing but got no answers. He was then instructed to go inside a pod connected to some machine. While Nick went into the other one. Suddenly there was a green flash in both pods.

Steve felt disoriented as he stepped out of the pod. he could only see out of one eye and looked down shocked to see his hands were now black. He also noticed his outfit was an exact replica of Nick’s. he immediately looked over to the other pod and saw his old body strutting out.

“Until further notice, I’ll be taking over your duties as Captain America. To do so I’ll be taking your body. While you’ll be in my body held in a special holding facility. Our team will help to rehabilitate you. We'll switch back once you’re considered trustworthy again," Nick explained in Steve’s body as he crossed his arms.

Steve was trying to process what he just said but was quickly grabbed by security and put in some high-tech handcuffs. “hey- stop that! Wait-“ Steve objected as the guards took him away in Nick’s body.

“Thanks for the help, Tony. It was a pretty smart idea to swap our bodies” Nick said

“You’re welcome it’s a real shame what happened to Steve or I guess Nick now. Also, I forgot to mention as a side effect of the body swap you both may experience some changes to sex drives”

“excuse me? why wasn’t this mentioned earlier?” Nick asked raising an eyebrow.

“don’t worry about it you might just be a little hornier than usual” Tony brushed off Nick’s concerns. as nick walked away in Steve’s body a devious smirk appeared on Tony’s face as everything was going to plan.

Steve was thrown into a holding cell that had just the essentials like a bed, sink, and toilet with no obvious way out. He noticed a mirror and began investigating his new body it felt so weird and foreign for him to see Nick’s reflection staring back at him. he suddenly began to feel really horny for no reason. He had no clue what was turning him on but he couldn’t resist it as he pulled down his pants, grabbed his new cock, and began masturbating. he felt so good and began orgasming and moaning almost instantly. Just as he was starting to cum a guard showed up.

“Look who’s being a bad boy. Luckily I got just the thing for you” the guard said as he approached holding a stark Industries Chasity cage.

Meanwhile, Nick appreciated his new body as he flexed his muscles in front of a mirror. Admiring his new pecs and arms. While he was initially weirded out by Tony’s plan to switch their bodies he couldn’t deny that he was enjoying Steve’s body. He felt pleasure begin to build in his crotch area. He was so distracted he didn’t even notice Tony walking up behind him until he felt the heat of Tony’s body press against his.

“enjoying yourself... Steve?” Tony said in a seductive whisper into Nick’s ear.

Nick began moaning lightly something about being in Steve’s body made him just so horny and filled him up with desires foreign to him.

“Tony, please... please...Fuck Me” Nick moaned out.

Tony smirked pleased with his results before the 2 would have intense sex. Steve’s ass made him the perfect bottom.

Loki’s plan went perfectly not only was he able to get both Nick Fury and Steve out of his way but he now had Captain America as his own personal slut who would go along with any of his plans if it meant getting his cock.

//////////////

Written as a sequel to this story.

I had this story on the back burner for a few months now i hope you guys enjoyed it and hope I can get more work out soon.

[no-saints-around-here]

Quiet Afternoon

Yandere BFF Bonten Rindo & Bimbo!Reader

Masterlist

‎

a little nsfw spinoff from my BFF Rindo series, starting here, masterlist here! not necessary to read but it'll provide some context imo

tw: yandere, smut, dubcon, sexual assault, double pen, afab reader, dead dove do not eat

The muffled clap of skin meeting skin echoed through the opulently decorated bedroom, though calling the enormous space a bedroom was generously stretching the term to its limit. Tastefully decked out in dark-toned hardwoods and the occasional flourish of gold and silver, the priceless masterpieces that decorated the walls and corner of the room as if spoils of wars were barely visible in the dim light, polished frames and shined metal unable to shimmer in the dull ambient glow of the intricate chandelier that hung above the bed. Yet despite all the glitters and glamor that shared the space, it was only the four-poster bed that received any ounce of the spotlight - or more so you, ever so elegantly posed naked on your fours above less sparsely-dressed yet obviously fuming Rindo.

“What the fuck-” The words were hissed through gritted teeth as he harshly thursted himself upwards. “Did I say about talking to the others? Huh?!” You only huffed, unable to even catch your breath as strong arms simultaneously forced you backwards and onto him, his hips meeting the flesh of your buttocks with a wet slap as the Bonten executive plunged his entire length into you.

You, however, barely seemed to notice your self-proclaimed best friend’s foul mood as he pounded himself into you, the pleasure overwhelming any coherent thought that might have been left in that empty head of yours. Angelic voice that once could transfix and mesmerize crowds now reduced to mere huffing and wheezing, your doe-like eyes rolled backwards as he grinded his cock harshly against that one soft, spongy spot of your inner wall. Rindo was sure that the only thing keeping you up was his strength; the same strength that had kept you safe from the big bad world since you wore him down into friendship in childhood. But it was precisely this fact that had the well-feared mobster pissed off enough to tip his hand and break the sole unspoken rule he had held himself to for all these years to punish you.

Even after so long and what could be considered a forcibly short but successful stint as an idol, you still had barely a brain cell to share between both halves of your head, still couldn’t even follow a single simple instruction that he was sure he had drilled into you countless times. 

It was just a routine job, no more than a few hours to be spent apart from you. His orders were easy and direct as they always were when it came to you: forbidding you from leaving the room until he was back, to keep the door locked at all times, and to not breathe a word to any of the other Bonten members except in an absolute emergency. Straightforward enough, yet where did he find you upon his return from his exhausting mission? Not in your shared room, no; he found you instead mesmerized by Koko, that slick, stingy motherfucker trying to brainwash you into selling nudes. Convincing you that he, Rindo, your best friend in the entire world, wouldn’t mind in the slightest since there was money to be made, and that Koko had buyers - dedicated, obsessed and very, very wealthy fans still reeling from your sudden retirement from the industry - lined up that would shell out a bomb for just a mere teasing shot in your panties. 

Lies. You should know better than to think those honeyed words were nothing but lies. Because you were his and only his, and as your friend and sole protector, he would happily kill every last person who dared to lay such vulgar eyes on you.

“Why were you with Koko? What else did he say?” The younger of the Haitanis demanded, gloved grip tightening ever so slightly around your hips.

Despite the strong air-conditioning going at full blast and having done so for the past couple of hours, the prominent beads of sweat that clung to your forehead gleamed softly as if crystals clung to your skin as you panted, gasping to catch your next breath. A complete opposite from his own state. Rindo didn’t feel the slightest bit winded from this post-work workout despite being mostly clad in his combat outfit: the bulletproof vest paired with a simple black shirt and tie only missing a similarly colored pair of pants, with said clothing having long been stripped off and hurriedly discarded. Though more irritating was having to watch the dirt and grime and filthy blood of the outside world being rubbed off onto your bare skin - he’ll have to make sure that you got an extra thorough bath later. God only knows what kind of sickness you could catch.

You, however, remained unresponsive to Rindo’s demands except the occasional whuff and sharp exhale, lost in the pleasure rippling through your body from the valley between your legs. 

Finally pulling himself out from his spiraling thoughts, the Bonten executive paused in his movements, sharp violet eyes narrowing at your failure to respond as he left himself half submerged in your folds. “Are you even listening?” He snarled, accompanied with another strong thrust that earned him a throaty gasp from you before stopping once more.

Rindo’s only answer was your struggle against his hold in a vain attempt to regain the sudden loss of friction. “Ah-ahh Rin-rin,” you whined, pleaded, as you desperately tried to regain the momentum that sparked pleasure in your abdomen, though your attempt to grind against him was in vain. "I really tr-ied!"

He already did so much for you - the tattoo on the front of his neck that branded him as Bonten was all for you. Who better to protect you from rabid world who would tear you apart without hesitation than the largest criminal organization in Japan? All those tortured souls, those eyes that he stared straight into before ending their life, all the blood that stained his hands. Rindo did it to keep you safe, to keep you by his side. And this was how you repaid your best friend? “You didn’t try hard enough.”

Countless men he had killed who had tried to take you away, who had tried to steal away your heart, who had tried to get you to notice them. And countless more he will kill - strangers, Bonten employees, former fans. He would kill them all for you. But even now, Rindo couldn’t quite muster himself to get genuinely angry at you. Even after you betrayed his trust, it was pretty much what Rindo had expected - you had always been quite the airhead, which was why you depended on him, why he, your best friend, had to care for you and look after you.

He’ll punish you for this transgression all right, but not too much; the thought of you fearing him, leaving him, sent shivers down his spine. Just a little bit wouldn’t hurt to keep you in line.

‎

‎

Sure, Ran might have been strolling down Executive Row with the precise intention of poking his nose into his younger brother’s business, especially after the juicy rumors swirling as to what went down a couple of hours earlier with Koko. Now clean and dressed in a fresh set of shirt and shorts, this part of Bonten HQ was predictably void of souls - no servant would dare be caught loitering where the bosses lived. But being able to hear your harmonious voice whining from the corridor for all to hear? Even he didn’t expect something so bold from Rindo, not when the latter had a custom-made soundproof bedroom door installed the day he moved in. And sure enough, the thick, heavy padded steel door was slightly ajar, an oddity in the otherwise lifeless hallway neatly lined with an alternating pattern of invaluable treasures and rightly shut doors - Rindo must have been in a mighty hurry if he failed to do something so routine.

The rare and untimely creak of the usually well-oiled door fortunately failed to draw any attention, Ran noted, and the full view of your naked backside mooning him from the entrance quickly made it clear what his dear brother was occupied with. He remembered you well not only from your shared childhood in the Haitani household, but more recently from your time on the stage, those captivating melodies that you belted out without a second thought roaring up to the front of his mind once more. No doubt he still hears them from time to time on the air, but having had the opportunity to listen to you in person once, it was clear why you had rocketed to stardom. But ah Rindo - he kept you close to his side all this time. Negotiating with Mikey just to let him have you, he was always so obsessed with you, baring his teeth at any of the other executives that dared to even glance your way, let alone allowing you anywhere close to rabid fans eager for a piece of you. He even hides his fucking gun from you. No wonder he forced you to retire from stardom.

For a moment, Ran stood watching the two of you from the doorway. Rindo was frustrated at whatever sin it was that you had committed, and this was his idea of a “punishment”, yet that baby boy nestled amidst the luxurious fabrics was still so obviously, painfully gentle. The way he was edging you so carefully, glancing up at your face every other second just to make sure you weren’t actually hurting, still giving you the occasional pump so that you weren’t left completely high and dry; what else was there to say? Ran was nowhere this kind even to his favorite private whores. The smell of sex filled every breath he took as the cool air leaked out from the bedroom and into the otherwise empty passage, before the man finally turned to gently close the door behind him, locking it shut. A smell he was no stranger to, and while he was sure Rindo would maybe be okay if it was just him, but he would definitely be pissed if any of the others ever saw you in your current state. Pissed enough to end them with a clean gunshot to the head probably, and Ran shuddered at the possibility of having to bail Rindo out from Mikey’s wrath.

A soft chime ringing out from an unseen clock was like the starting bell of a fight, and it was a smirk that pulled at Ran’s lips as he padded over to the centerpiece of the room. Time to make this little session a proper punishment - he did have a heart after all, and if it did help Rindo keep you more in line, then fantastic

Your self-proclaimed best friend only took note of the unwelcome intruder when the nightstand drawer was pulled open, and in an instance, that look of mock anger (Ran was certain it was all just a bluff) fell away into horror as their eyes met. “What the fuck-“ Rindo stammered, the gears in his head seemingly coming to a grinding halt. You at least had enough awareness left in you to let out an eep at the sudden introduction of another voice, though you quickly settled back down as Rindo’s arms tightened protectively around you; maybe you assumed that all this was Rindo’s idea? Ran wouldn’t be surprised - your airhead already relied so heavily on the other to guide you through life.

“You left the door open. So I invited myself in.” The older of the two helpfully supplemented, signature lazy grin plastered all over his face as he rummaged for a little before pulling out a small tube.

“Get out!”

“Aww Rin-Rin, why’re you being so mean?” Ran teased as he slid onto the plush bed, comfy blankets that usually swaddled you and your delicate skin puffing up under his bony self as the man made his way across the enormous mattress. “I’m just here to help.”

“Don’t you dare touch her,” swore Rindo, the previous anger that had melted away from his face just minutes ago flaring up once more, cheeks reddening as he glared down Ran. “I’ll fucking kill you, I swear.”

But the fighting words barely bothered the older Haitani, more than used to his brother’s all bark and no bite when it came to actually making a move in front of you. “You want to punish her, don’t ya?” Drawled Ran, as he finally reached you. You jumped when cold hands touched your cheeks, spreading them apart with a critical eye as if appreciating a feast. “Doesn’t seem like it with what you’re doing.” 

Ignoring the continuously growing threats that Rindo was growling at him from the bed, Ran instead busied himself making a show of squeezing out what was revealed to be lube from the small tube and generously coating his fingers. The shiny liquid seemingly glimmered under the light of the chandelier against the backdrop of your equally glittery skin, his anticipation of what was to come shortly quickly leading to a tent in his shorts. After all, desire for something was directly proportional to how off-limits it was, and you had been off-limits to him since Rindo first brought you home. He couldn’t wait. Casually pushed two slicked digits into your tight pucker, giving it a few lazy pumps in what seemed like an attempt to loosen and oil your bottom up for him, his impatience got the better of him, and the Bonten executive gave up all pretense. Hurriedly pushing down the band of his shirts and pulling out his already hard dick, you weren’t given a warning other than the light touch of his length as Ran lined himself up. 

Your eyes popped open the same time that his head was forced past your ring of muscles, and your nose scrunched, an unmistakable sign of the flaring pain from between your legs. And the struggles started right after as you made a valiant attempt to free yourself from Rindo’s arms, the beads of sweat that clung to your hair holding on for dear life as you tried to wriggle away. “Ri-Rin, it hurts…”

But Ran was already lost to the warm heaven he, like an explorer stumbling upon the entrance to nirvana, had discovered within your wriggling body.  “Oh- oh f-fuck,” was all the man could moan as his length sank in slowly and surely, the feeling of your newly opened bottom clutching and squeezing around his dick pure ecstasy, his mind almost liquid mush. Was this heaven what Rindo had been hiding from him all these years? Probably not, the executive floatingly mused to himself, as he pushed himself further inwards, given how deep in denial his younger brother was when it came to his relationship with you. 

Your backdoor was miles better than any whore he had taken, in a league of your own, and that was putting it lightly - the warmth of your insides around him, combined with your muffled pained whines almost enough for the older Haitani to cum instantly if he had an ounce lesser of self-control. Sex might not have been Rindo’s top priority for keeping you out of the public’s eye and away from the rest of the Bonten executives, but god it should be - Ran would have been happy to pay an unimaginable number of zeros just for access to you..

Even Rindo let out a deep throated groan at the additional friction, before he caught himself and bit it back. Yet it was clear that you were stretched beyond your limit, the double penetration visibly causing strain between your legs, your thighs spasming with effort as you bit down hard on your lips, tears welling in those doe eyes of yours.

Slender fingers reaching down to gingerly touch at where you and Rindo were joined, the light exploratory brushes of his fingertips only serve to intensify your discomfort, as judged from the whimper that escaped your lips. Ran whistled - if that was enough to hurt…. That too failed to stop the smugly grinning executive, the older Haitani never ceasing as he continued to force his way past muscles that failed to keep him out, until he finally bottomed out in you, his balls slapping with enough force to let out an audible squelch. A pause, a temporary mercy to let you adjust to his size alongside Rindo’s, but more for Ran to admire the new expression that tore at your face.

An agonized grimace, a bleed of blood that adorned your plush lips, the idol that captured hearts was lost in the sea of pain he was putting you through. There was something beautiful about it, Ran admitted, as he ran one hand through your sweat-drenched hair, teasingly tracing light patterns into your back - he doubt there were many people who had ever seen this side of you, and it was a privilege he would treasure. The lust came flooding back as your tears fell, and Ran couldn’t resist leaning over to press a kiss to the back of your head before straightening.

“Move Rindo,” Ran grunted, as he started to grind his cock against your walls, pulling out slightly before slamming himself back in. “Move, dammit.”

‎

‎

“Fucking hell Ran, you’re hurting her!” In a bid to dislodge the other from you, the younger of the two had attempted to roll you over and under him, but the slightest nudge had you crying out at the extra stretch, and Rindo stopped. He wasn’t going to lie that he wasn’t enjoying the extra friction - he had never experienced anything close before - but you were and always will be his first priority. You crying was the last thing he wanted, and the guilt was welling at the base of his gut. What fresh new hell was he putting you through? 

Yet for all the nasty names his brain was yelling at him for not calling off this entire session, for not reaching under his pillow for his gun, Rindo couldn’t bring himself to pull out just yet. Against him knowing better than to continue, his hips began to thrust once more, and said gangster could only shove down the protesting best friend inside him.

He couldn’t tell when him and Ran had synced up, their thrusts falling into a pattern of one in, one out. The sheer friction generated was godly - the divine feeling of his cock rubbing up against another felt through the thin wall that separated your pussy from your ass as they were forced past each other. And as the seconds  - minutes, hours? Rindo had long lost track of time - your own cries of pain died down, you letting out tired whines and grunts as you laid spent on Rindo’s chest, the two brothers too busy hammering their hips against yours in a chase of pleasure to notice. All three of you toppled over that edge at the same time, Rindo letting out a strangled ‘fuck’ before like a tension coil finally allowed to release, his hot cum spurted deep into you as he shuddered against you. And nestled as far as he could push in your ass, Ran’s cock pulsed and shuddered as he too released his load into you. 

Around them, the sudden warmth seemed to trigger a response from you, your walls tightening around them as you came, though you barely twitched, your eyes already half-closed as you laid cuddled against Rindo, exhausted. Letting out a satisfied grunt, Ran finally pulled out of you, falling backwards to sit on the plush bed in a daze, the last dribble of cum drooling from the head of his softening dick. “That was- '' Said mafioso swallowed hard, unable to describe the feeling, though jumbled mind quickly latched on to the white cum starting to seep from both your holes. “Trying to get her pregnant?” 

Post-nut clarity hit Rindo like a truck, and the bliss plastered across his face evaporated, giving way to a dark, angry look. Reaching under his pillow, it was that telltale click as a familiar pistol was pulled from underneath the white covers. “That was you overstaying your welcome,” snarled Rindo, as he leveled the barrel straight at Ran. “Fuck. Off.”

Ran beat a hasty retreat, barely able to push his dick back into his shorts before he disappeared behind the heavy steel bedroom door, said door groaning as it was locked shut with a soft thud. 

Alone once more, the background whirl of the air-conditioning suddenly seemed so loud, the air blowing through unseen grates whistling as it drifted down from the high ceiling. The made-man turned his attention to you, violet eyes softening as he took in your fatigued form and your flushed cheeks. Stripping off his gloves, your best friend carefully rubbing his thumb over where hot tears had torn their way down your delicate skin, before chancing a glance between your legs. Ravaged would have been light - Rindo grimacing at the sight of your still panting pucker, red and inflamed from where it had been forced open. 

Sighing, the man bundled your naked form ever so gently into his arms, shifting his way off the bed and standing with a crack of his knees. You stirred, looking up at him with swollen eyes. “Rin rin?”

He hummed as he crossed the room towards your built-in bathroom. “What is it?” His voice was uncharacteristically gentle as it always was when it came to you, a 180 from the feared Bonten gunman who took lives with nay a blink.

“...” You yawned, snuggling into his chest, your eyes fluttering close once more. “Nothing.”

“Hey, no sleeping yet.” He nudged you. “Pee, shower, then doctor.”

“Doctor?”

Just to make sure you were alright down there, Rindo admitted to himself, the guilt that he had suppressed previously now back to eat away at his heart, but he said nothing more to you. He’ll make it up to you, he swore to himself. Somehow, someway. With a click, the yellow lights flicked on, illuminating the marble-floored spotless bathroom.

You piped up again as you caught your reflection in the mirror. “Koko said - Koko said if I made enough money,” you paused, interrupted by another yawn. “You could stop working.”

“I don’t need your fucking money, stupid.” Placing you down on the toilet, the purple-haired man flicked your forehead, rolling his eyes. And that was the truth. It didn’t matter - it had never mattered - what he had to do. All this was for you. All he needed was you.

[orgverse]

san's red hair got me and @sanjoongie going crazzzyyyyy. so please enjoy this while i make topaz suffer. N E WAYS this is also apart of a pornstar au that i'm currently working on, so enjoy!!

for the two, almost three, years you have known san, he has always had black hair. you remember watching videos and seeing him with different colored hair, but never in person. when him and wooyoung had reached out wanting to film a video with you and hongjoong, he had just cut and dyed his hair back to black from the blonde mullet he hand. and since then its been black.

so you were throughly surprised when you opened your apartment door and was greeted with bright red hair. your jaw dropped, literally. you probably would have started drooling if san didn't start teasing you. "you'll catch flies, star girl."

you were def going to be seeing stars soon.

san had volunteered to help you with your stream tonight since seonghwa was away visiting his parents, and hongjoong was busy editing the film you just finished shooting with yunho.

"no wooyoung?" you asked when you noticed the louder of the two males nowhere in sight.

"nah, he says he wants to stay home and watch the stream instead. think he said something about wanting to support his fav girl," he told you he walked into the apartment and removed his designer shoes. you noted how sexy san looked with his entire outfit. simple, but san was good at making simple look sexy.

his black tank top doing well to show off his muscles and his slim waist, and his jeans hugging his body nice and framing what little ass he has. but you won't tell him that because he would argue he does have an ass. sure, san, sure. he takes off the jean jacket he had been wearing and hangs it over the computer chair that seonghwa usually sits in.

he towers over you as he watches you pull up the website, love-heart-xx, and set up the stream. you remember san mentioning how he had streamed too back before he stopped and focused solely on just porn films.

"you're setup is very cute. very you," san says when you get up to let him sit down. that's when he finally takes a few moments to look around the room.

"o-oh, you think so?" you ask, a little caught off guard by his words. san nods his head, red hair bouncing with the movement.

"all the decorations are cute and welcoming, it makes it feel like its your personal bedroom and not a separate one. it feels... lived in," he explains and you feel a heat spread through your body at his words.

you've always admired san, having watched him since he first started his career in the porn industry. you kind of wish you found him when he still streamed. it had always been a goal – a dream actually, to film with him.

and now he's helping you with your stream. un-fucking-real.

"well, i'm going to go get ready! i'll be right back!" san doesn't say anything, but nods his head and gives you a smile before you're turning and walking out of the room.

walking into your actual bedroom you share with hongjoong, you find your lover sitting at his computer, headphones on, and eyes focused on the video editing program in front of him. you notice he's at the part where you and yunho were making out. yunho's hand holding your chin as his tongue licks over your own before he's sucking on it. you remember that scene and knowing what comes next makes you rubs your thighs together.

no, you needed to get changed. walking over to your walk-in closet, you go over to the section that was specific for streaming. you dug through your clothes before pulling out a dark blue lingerie set. when you walked out of the closet, you noticed hongjoong had his headphones off and was turned facing your direction.

"hey, babe," you said putting the lingerie on the bed before you take your shirt off. you notice hongjoong is looking at you, his eyes focused on how your breast bounced a little before you're taking your shorts and underwear off.

"i thought i heard you sneak in. is san here?" he asks and you nod your head as you step into the blue lingerie bottoms before putting the bra on. you look at yourself in the full-length mirror, turning to look at every part of you. "does this look good?"

hongjoong lets out a sigh before he's standing up and making his way over to you. his arm wrapping around your waist as he takes in your appearance. "you look beautiful," he says kissing your neck. he gives your ass a good pat before he walking back over to his desk.

"are you going to try and watch some of the stream?" you ask, making your way over to the door. hongjoong nods giving you a smile.

"of course, i'll do my best to pop in."

"okay! so usually seonghwa just sits here and kind of moderates chat. usually while i'm talking to chat, he'll jump in, but you don't have to if you don't want to," you tell san as you sit on the bed. you look at yourself in the monitor setup in front of you as you attempted to make sure you looked good. "do i look okay?" you ask, looking towards san.

"perfect," he says making you look away from him, a little flustered.

"you can go ahead and hit the button, san," you tell him shyly. he lets out a small chuckle before he's clicking the 'start stream' button and you watch as the stream starts and viewer start pouring in.

"hi guys!" you say, smile overtaking your face as you wave to the camera. the chat on the side of the screen being filled with your usual watchers greeting you. tips easily coming in. "i'm doing good tiger-star! hope you're doing well! ... oh! you like this piece, rubyred? i'm glad you like it, i've been wanting to wear it for a while!"

san watches you with a smile on his face. he takes in how natural you look interacting with your chat and... chatting with them.

"oh!" you say clapping your hands and earning san's attention, "seonghwa couldn't be here today... i know sunshine-sparkle, i'm sad too, but! we have a lovely person who agreed to cover for him tonight! ... no hotpants it is not patrick star," you deadpanned that last part making san chuckle. "sannie is here!" you say looking towards the male how leans forward just enough to stick his hand in front of the camera.

mega_yn_fan : holy shit THE choi san!!!

guylovescheese : FUCK! how much to see him fuck your pussy???

a_lexa_star22 : i would gladly pay to see that happen!

"do you think they want me to fuck you?" he teases making you let out a small laugh. suddenly, you see a rather large tip come in making you almost fall off the bed from how far you leaned over to look at it.

"holy shit! thank you wooenergizer for the three thousand dollar tip," you say, still not comprehending the sudden amount.

"oh, that's wooyoung!" san says, right before you read the message he also sent in with the tip.

"three thousand to see sannie finger you," you read out loud, feeling flustered by the message. wooyoung really had no self-control or filter.

san lets out a chuckle before he's standing up from his seat and crawling onto the bed next to you.

"if chat gets to ten thousand i'll fuck this pretty pussy," san says, spreading your legs to gently pat your clothed cunt. "sound good?" san adds before looking at you and you nod your head.

you let out a breathy moan, hips jerking forward as san fucks you hard and fast with his fingers. the wet sounds from your pussy mingling in with your moans, your manicured nails digging into san's thighs. he had removed his pants a while ago, leaving him in just his tank top and underwear. you feel his hard-on rubbing against your backside.

his other hand gropes your breast, your bra being pulled down to let your breast out. he pinches your nipples and gives it a good tug making you let out a whine at the feeling.

"s-sannie, please so-s-so good, fuck!" you say, tilting your head back to let it rest on san's shoulder. you could feel the tension rising within you, your orgasm coming soon. you attempted to close your legs but san didn't let you.

he pulls his fingers out of you and you whine at the empty feeling. san uses both his hands to spread your legs, throwing them over his own legs to keep them open. you moaned at how you could see your pussy on full display to for everyone watching. your pussy dripping with juices that run out of you and you can see it glistening under the lights.

you yelp, jumping and whole body bouncing when san suddenly gave your pussy a good smack before he's rubbing furious circles on your clit. "s-s-sa-san!"

"look at that, star girl, your chat got us to five thousand. that's halfway. should we switch it up?" he asks and you wonder who's he's talking to.

"hm... hungry2ho says they want you to sit on my face. i don't know hungry, do you think y/n's been a good girl enough to sit on my face?" san asks and you clench at the thought of sitting on san's face. he suddenly grabs your face, turning you to look at him. his eyes half-lidded as he meets your lustful and almost fucked out ones. "do you think you deserve to sit on my face?"

"p-ple-please san, i-i've been good! let me please," you're begging him now and san can't help the smirk that paints his lips.

"well~ since you asked so nicely, who am i to deny my pretty star girl," san says and you can feel your thighs tremble. "open your mouth," his voice is commanding and you do it without a second thought. you let out a loud moan as you watch san spit in your mouth, allowing it to run down your tongue and throat. "such a nasty girl. no wonder wooyoung is so fond of you, just like him," he says before moving to lay on his back, his bright red hair a heavy contrast to the cream-colored bedsheets.

"oh fuck– san, san! your tongue feels soooo good~" you say with a moan as you rock your hips back and forth. san had a tight gripped wrapped around your legs and waist as he kept you pinned down to mouth. his nose bumped against your clit, rubbing and stimulating it nicely as his tongue licked and fucked your pussy.

you glanced down, running your hand through his soft hair to see his eyes staring intensely at you. he stare honestly made your heart skip a beat as you felt his moans vibrate through you and shake your core. san kneaded the flesh of your ass before giving it a firm smack. the sound resonating through the room and you were sure anyone watching could have heard it.

wooenergizer : look at how you're falling apart on sannie's tongue 👅 can't wait to see you fall apart on his dick... again 🍆💦

you couldn't but let out a hearty laugh at wooyoung's comment before you see others in the chat agree with him. knowing wooyoung was still watching also made your heart skip a beat, because along with san, wooyoung had also been someone you admired within the industry.

"mmh~ san, fuck so good! i think i'm gonna cum!" you say, letting your head roll back a little as you grind your hips again, san's nose once again nudging at your clit.

"hold it, pretty star," san says, voice just as stern and intense as his eyes. you feel yourself clench when you notice the lower half of his face is glistening with your juices.

"sannie," you say, hand running through his hair as your other one runs over your body, feeling yourself and groping one of your breast. "please fuck me."

"i don't think your viewers want me to fuck you. you're still only at eight thousand," san says in a rather mocking tone.

"fuck– please, please let sannie fuck me! i need his cock so badly!" you beg looking at the camera and indirectly looking at your viewers. your eyes were pleading with them and hoping that your begging would convince them to continuing to tip you.

fuck, you felt like such a cock slut right now. but you couldn't deny how good san's cock was and how badly you wanted it.

and then it happened. you heard the familiar sound of being tipped and you immediately had to do a double take on it.

k.yeosang tipped $5,000.

your viewers must have seen the tip as well as the chat immediately exploded in excitement at the tip, knowing it was only a matter of time before they got to see you take san's dick.

"yeosang!" you say, chest warming when you realized it the male who had donated to you. "thank you so much! wow, you definitely didn't have to tip that much, but i really appreciate it!" you say, sliding off of san and letting him sit up so he could see the tip as well. he ran a hand down your back, noticing how your legs slightly trembled.

k.yeosang : make sure to invite me next time 😉

"i'll def keep in it mind, yeo," you say, not being able to stop the smile that overtakes you. you feel san pressing open mouthed on your neck and trailing down your back. you allow san to to move you so you're resting on your hands and knees, and you can't help the yelp that escapes you when you feel san gently bite your ass. you watch yourself and san through the monitor, feeling your excitement start to swell up as he removes his underwear and tossing them to the floor. you arch your ass, high into the air and gently sway it in an attempt to tempt san to move faster.

you moan as you see him pump his cock. the angry red tip, leaking with precum which his is using to lube himself. "s-sannie," you call out earning the male's attention. he smirks, running a hand through his hair before he's positioning himself at your entrance. you couldn't help the breathy moans that left you as san entered you. stretching you out, but sucking him in nonetheless.

"you sound like a bitch in heat, y/n," he laughs as he gently positions you, hands gripping your hips as he starts off with a harsh and fast pace. your mouth was fixed in a perfect o-shape, unable to close it and also so easily lost in pleasure that you couldn't make a sound.

having san fuck you was like a new experience, each and every time. of course it was mainly different because of the films you did together. each scenario being different enough from the last that it gave you a new experience each time.

and this time was no different. you couldn't help but shove your face into the sheets. wanting a moment to just feel san's cock abused your insides, yet the sudden sting to your scalp said otherwise. san held your hair harshly, gripping it to the point it was almost painful.

"don't hide your face, y/n, your viewers paid good money to see you get fucked by me. don't make them waste their money," san says as you feel him rest his body weight on top of you.

"i-i'm sorry!" you said, however who you were saying it to, you weren't sure. you felt tears start to brim your waterline, but thankful san let go of your hair in favor of using both his hands to prop himself up. the sound of skin slapping skin ringed in your ears. his cock rubbed against your walls, stretching you out over and over again and it made start to see small white stars in your vision.

"s-san! sansansan so-s-so fuuuucking good! ugh– please, please let me cum!" san presses a kiss between your shoulder blades before he's thrusting even harder. the tension in your stomach building up, waiting to snap and explode any moment now.

"fuck, i am too, my star. gonna let me cum inside you? give your viewers a good creampie?"

"yes! fuck, yes! fill me up!" you begged, you noticed your arms were now in front of you, hanging off the edge of the bed. you swear you feel a line drool run down your chin, but you arms feel so much like jelly that you don't have the energy to wipe it away. not that you care anyways.

then suddenly, you feel san pulling out and you feel your approaching orgasm quickly escaping you. you're about to scream, throw a fit before san is hoisting you up off your stomach on onto your knees. you are left slightly confused and dazed before san is entering you again. his arms hooking underneath yours to keep you up right. this new position allowing everyone to get a good few of san fucking your pussy.

"go ahead and cum," you hear him whisper and just like that, the coil snaps inside of you and your cumming with a loud and well... pornographic moan. san gives you a few more thrusts before he's sheathing himself deep inside of you and also cumming inside of you with a low groan.

you are out of breath, covered in a layer of sweat when san pulls out of you and quickly positions you on the bed. legs spread wide apart before he's getting off the bed. you watch him with dazed eyes as he picks the camera up – you want to complain about how he's ruined the perfect position you spent months working to find, but you don't have the energy to say anything. instead you watch him as he does a close up on your pussy which slowly begins to leak out his cum.

his fingers come to spread your pussy lips, showing off how much cum he truly stuff you with before he's scooping some up on his fingers. "fuck look at how well he's took him, such a good pussy," you hear him say at one point.

then san is panning the camera up to your fucked out face, his cum-covered finger easily slipping inside your open mouth. you have just enough energy to eagerly suck on his finger, tongue licking up his cum and cleaning his fingers. when he's sure your done, he removes them with a pop sound the rings around the room.

"tell your viewers bye," san says in a cheery tone making you smile at both him and the camera.

"bye-bye~" you say smiling, waving, and blowing several kisses to the camera that goes further away from you as san goes over to the computer to end the livestream.

san put the camera back on the tripod before he coming over to the bed. he pulls you more towards the edge of it by your ankles and you laugh at how easily he does it. his strength showing once again. he rubs circles onto you ankles before he's leaning over you.

"thank you, san," you say pressing a kiss to his cheek. you notice a faint pink dusting san's cheeks as he pulling away from you.

"of course," he says with a cough, "you know i enjoy spending time with you," he says adds on making butterflies swarm around your stomach.

"really?"

"really. now come on, let's get cleaned up and go bother hongjoong for food," san says with a smile as he helps you off the bed and begins walking you towards the door before he's stopping. turning to you before adding, "i would love to do this again soon. maybe even watch you and wooyoung have some fun."

"gosh, shut up and take me to the bathroom, you fool."

[yanderenightmare]

something i havent seen you do is Bakugou with an equally famous or successful reader, like she's still quirkless but maybe an idol of sorts? i think it could be interesting

BNHA ! HEADCANONS + IMAGINE

Bakugou Katsuki x darling

TW: yandere, some slight nsfw, obsession, coercion, abuse of power

PROFESSIONAL

Your face is on the poster plastered right next to his, only you look like his stark opposite.

Flowers instead of explosions frames you and your dewy skin. Glittering with the spritz of perfume you’re commercializing instead of the droplets of sweat and grease he’s smeared with.

A catlike grin plays deceptively soft in the corner of your glossy lips, whereas his bear a crazed maniacal demonstration of canines like a rabid mongrel.

And your eyes, painted with a seductive blend of smokey colors similar to the smudge of his war paint, though refined to make you look oh-so-lush and divine, like a queen, and he, only a lowly sooty footsoldier in comparison.

He buys magazines you’re featuring in and reads them before bed.

Ending up with a hand bobbing beneath the cover.

Feeling lucky like none when the poster within is a large A3 foldout of you in something rather risqué. 

He reads your interviews from cover to cover or watches them on TV.

His heart pounding when the segment of your nameless childhood bully is brought up. Happy to see you haven't forgotten him.

He was a complete desperate mess when you did that extremely private lingerie commercial that had you showing off nearly all assets on a set of pillows and plushies.

Losing his mind looking through the mesh and chiffon right to where your nipples teased him with their perky strut. 

Not to mention your face and your expressions… 

You really know how to play to the camera. So much so it makes him jealous of the photographer. 

He’d like to be the one to tell you to pose and give him a pout. Pretending he is when slowly peeling each page over to view the following image. Throat tight and dry and palms sweaty, watching you crawl and give a rather intimidatingly large teddy bear a kiss on the cheek.

You’ve definitely become something different from your shared days in middle school.

Something confident and alluring.

Something he wants to play with in a wide new variety of ways than before.

It’s good that your industry often intertwines with his.

He knows exactly which model to request when his agency wants to shoot a new campaign poster starring Dynamight saving a Damsel in Distress.

No one but you fit the role so picture-perfectly, being both a beautiful idol and a quirkless citizen.

You’ve learned to refrain from asking your handler any questions, just doing what the strict woman tells you, be it what jobs to take, how to dress, or what to eat. It’s better that way. She’s a professional, and you owe your entire career to her wisdom. But once you get to the photo shoot and start recognizing the props of a certain hero decorating the stage, you get queasy with unease upon understanding exactly which pro hero you’re going to be shooting with. 

Swallowing thickly, you bar yourself in your dressing room for a minute. Your handler already shouting at your ear enough to make you wince with tears at the ready as you try to explain the sticky situation to her. Naturally, your cries fall upon deaf ears, and soon enough, you’re convinced you’re being silly. This is a huge opportunity, after all. Dynamight is on par with Deku, having shared the title of the number one hero ever since they graduated. It would be career suicide to decline a collab with him, especially now that you’re already under contract with his agency.

You splash your face with cold water to calm the swelling left by your tears and get dressed in the silky white summer dress provided to you. It’s a pretty article, you think without being overly happy about it. It’s a thin, nearly see-through, backless model with a rather deep dip reaching down between your breasts. And though it isn’t at all the first time you flaunt your body in a nearly nude state in front of the world, it certainly is the first time you do so in front of the guy who used to pick your appearance apart until you cried. You only hope he doesn’t recognize you and that the shoot will be over before he eventually can.

You’re glad your handler does what her job suggests and handles all handshakes and greetings on your behalf. But though all the formalities of the work fall upon her shoulders, the part of the actual modeling is something only you can do.

You’re able to remain professional for the most part, barely ever glancing in his direction, though picking up on his mass from the corner of your eye and through the veil of fake lashes where you keep your eyes glued to the floor as the photographer gives instructions for the new pose. But then comes the direction you were dreading, the one which has the two of you touching. And even though you knew it was inevitable, you still flinch when he puts his hands on you.

And though the assistants, handlers, managers, and photographers are all oblivious to your discomfort, he notices, smiling at your tiny shivers and how well you hide them.

He’s so much bigger than you remember, you think while you try steadying your breath and convincing yourself that it isn’t any different from all those other times you’ve gone out of your comfort zone for the sake of a good deal. The shoot you did for Playboy Magazine had practically been a porno, and that time you’d been surrounded by a great deal of big beefy men, much similar to the one touching you now. 

Still tough... you had a laugh that time around. You had fun.

This wasn’t fun.

“Funny this.” He spoke, and you feared he was speaking to none other than you.

Holding you in a scoop of a bridal carry, you felt the harsh metal of his costume dig into your skin, not more than the grip of his hands clawing at your flesh like a predator sinking its teeth into caught prey. The grime on his fingers dirtying the white of your dress.

“Or… ironic is a better word for it.” He adds, and you finally look up into that face that still sometimes haunts you in your dreams despite having been out of your life for years. “Oh- don’t say you don’t remember me, Quirkless?”

After the shoot, the photographer praises you on your ability to portray true distress, unbeknownst that the sentiments in your expressions were genuine, and you almost trip over the stage props while thanking him, wanting to leave the set as quickly as possible in favor of going home.

But obviously, shooting a campaign poster isn’t why you’re there.

“Have dinner with me.” He says, with his hand, seemingly made to break bones, wrapped tight around your twiggy wrist. Stopping you from running away.

And just as expected, your handler accepts before you can make the costly mistake of refusing.

tip-jar: Kofi

[slaymitchabernathy]

Cold & Calculated

Coriolanus POV

When someone’s presence was announced by three firm knocks on the front doors of the Snow penthouse, Coriolanus did not make any moves to rise from his seat to inquire as to who was waiting outside.

He did not move from his seat because he heard the oh-so-familiar sound of high heels clicking down the hallway past the closed door to his study, making their way toward the front doors.

At twenty-five, Coriolanus Snow was on top of the world.

He was successful, rich, and very powerful.

He was the prime example of Capitol wealth and citizenship. He had everything. The penthouse, the car, the suits, the money, the connections.

The wife.

His marriage to Soarynn Nightingale had been strictly strategic and conducted as if it were a business agreement. The relationship had been formed by both sets of parents.

The Snows wanted their son to be matched with someone who was also from the upper class, someone who understood the social cues of Panem. Someone who would pose no threat to their son or their last name and the power it held.

Someone like Soarynn Nightingale.

Soarynn was a quiet girl, quite possibly the most timid girl Coriolanus had ever met. Her father was a very successful businessman man much like his own father and with Soarynn being his only child, he wanted to make sure that she had a safe and secure future.

Glen Nightingale made his fortune through District Two’s weapons industry and was a widowed man who despite the obvious lack of a wife, managed to raise a daughter as kind and polite as Soarynn.

Coriolanus has been slightly put off by the idea of an arranged marriage in the beginning. Surely he was old and smart enough to secure himself a proper match for a wife.

But once he laid eyes on Soarynn for the first time, all his arguments ceased to exist.

The first dinner they ever had together was with their parents and she barely said a word. Coriolanus thought that perhaps she might be nervous considering that his own father, Crassus Snow seemed to have that effect on people.

When he took her out to dinner the next week however, he learned that she truly was quite timid, only speaking when he spoke to her, never interrupting or asking prying questions.

She was perfect.

Not to mention beautiful. Soarynn was a gorgeous creature with tan skin and long blonde hair that nearly reached her waist. Her eyes were the most stunning part about her in his opinion since they possessed both shades of blue and gray.

Her lips were the perfect shade of pink and her face was dotted with freckles. He got more acquainted with her other features once they were married. Her body was to his liking. Small framed yet her breasts fit perfectly into his large hands and her ass was shaped perfectly for him to grab when taking her from behind.

She was much shorter than him, although most women were considering he was well above six feet. She always looked presentable no matter what time of day it was and she always smelled like vanilla.

It was strange getting used to her living with him once they were married. Coriolanus had moved into his own penthouse at the age of twenty and rather enjoyed his independence and freedom from his ancestral home. Having someone else, more specifically a woman move in with him was an adjustment, to say the least.

Sharing wasn’t something he was familiar with. Not when he was an only child as well and his mother was always keen on doting on him.

But Soarynn didn’t take up much space herself. She had her own side of the closet and bathroom, keeping her things neat and organized. She never strayed from her side of the bed at night and she never entered his study without knocking first.

When it came to maintaining the household Soarynn proved herself to be a worthy wife of a Snow. She kept the penthouse in perfect condition, making sure everything was cleaned and in its proper place at all times.

They had a small staff consisting of a cook, two maids—both Avoxes—and their driver. Soarynn managed the cook and maids quite well and Coriolanus of course, managed the driver when needed.

They made a good couple in his eyes. An attractive one at least. Soarynn has a rather youthful look to her and despite her being five years younger than him, she’s proven to be a good wife. Always quiet and obedient, yet attentive when he needed her to be.

The sex they had was according to how Coriolanus liked it. It almost felt transactional to him but he didn’t let that stop him from fucking his pretty little wife. Soarynn was, of course, a virgin. He took that from her on their wedding night and reveled in the fact that she truly belonged to him.

The small amount of blood he saw after the deed was enough to confirm that belief.

Soarynn could be quite vocal when she wanted, moaning and gasping whenever he hit a certain spot. But other than that she was entirely complicit and did whatever he told her to do. She was always clean, soft, and hairless as was he.

Coriolanus did his best to do her the common courtesy of letting her know beforehand when he wanted to have sex. It was the least he could do for someone who was so eager and desperate to keep him happy.

He listens to the sound of the front doors being opened and only catches muffled words between Soarynn and whoever is on the other side of the doors. Perhaps it’s one of their neighbors or a delivery man leaving a parcel for him.

Coriolanus had put in an order for some new clothes and a new briefcase for work last week and was eagerly awaiting their arrival. But when he hears Soarynn’s foot steps approaching his study minutes later, his hopes vanished.

She knocks twice before calling his name from outside the heavy wooden door, “Coriolanus? There’s someone here to see you.”

He furrows his brows, trying to figure out who could possibly be paying him a visit on a Thursday afternoon. Most people were at work including himself. He had chosen to work from home today since there would be some new paintings arriving today from one of the art galleries he and Soarynn had visited a few weeks ago.

Since marrying into the Snow family, Soarynn has proven time and time again to be the proper wife for him and she’s certainly brought a more feminine touch to the penthouse that seemed to be missing before she moved in with him.

Several art pieces had caught her eye when they strolled through the gallery one evening and Coriolanus found himself rather intrigued by them as well. So, he purchased them and stayed home today so he could instruct the gallery workers exactly where to hang them.

“Is it the gallery workers?” He asks without looking up from the documents splayed out in front of him. He hears Soarynn shift on her feet outside before answering, “It's Sejanus Plinth.”

Coriolanus nearly drops his pen when hearing that Sejanus Plinth has come to pay him a visit. Of course, he has. Only Sejanus would be free of all responsibility on a Thursday afternoon.

Coriolanus lets out a quiet groan and pinches the bridge of his nose, “I’ll be there in a moment.”

That seems to be all Soarynn needs to hear because her footsteps recede from the door as quickly as they approached it and he’s left alone once again. Why Sejanus has chosen to pay him a visit today, he has no idea, but he knows for certain that what he will face once leaving his study will surely be a waste of his time.

Coriolanus pulls himself away from his work and slowly makes his way out of his study and down the hall to the living room where he finds Soarynn and Sejanus wrapped in a surface-level conversation. Despite her timid nature, Soarynn can talk to people when she wants to. She's a decent conversationalist when needed and he's often found her truly engaged in conversations with her friends who she sees throughout the week.

She's always been a bit more drawn back with men which is something Coriolanus appreciates, the last thing a man wants is for his wife to be overly eager to talk to other men.

"...quite the wedding. How long have you two been married again?"

Coriolanus watches the conversation play out from behind the sofa where Soarynn is currently seated, "Six months," she answers softly which leads Sejanus to raise his eyebrows, "Well that's quite some time. Are you hoping to start a family any time soon?"

Coriolanus has every intention of getting Soarynn pregnant and starting a family with her, but he's been rather busy lately and children are truly the last thing on his mind. Soarynn brushes her hair behind her ears, a habit she only does when she feels slightly nervous, "I know that Coriolanus hopes to expand our family someday."

Coriolanus nods even though she can't see him, she gave the perfect answer, one should never give away too much information, especially to a Plinth. A District leech.

Coriolanus finally clears his throat, announcing his presence to both of them, "Sejanus, to what do I owe the pleasure?" He doesn't miss how Sejanus and Soarynn both stiffen in their seats but for different reasons.

Sejanus is beneath him and a guest in his home, therefore making him the outsider and at risk for embarrassment.

Soarynn is his wife, and being his wife comes with a certain set of expectations that need to be met. Her behavior reflects directly onto him and he cannot afford a bad reputation at the hands of his wife.

He places his hand on her shoulder as he gives Sejanus a charming smile, all too fake for anyone to believe but Sejanus does and returns it with a genuine smile of his own, "Coryo! Just the man I was looking for. I was hoping to discuss some business with you."

Coriolanus wants to point out that if Sejanus wanted to talk business then he could've scheduled an appointment with his secretary like a normal, polite person. But District people are just so...stupid. He's not shocked that Sejanus chose the improper route and sought him out in his home.

Soarynn looks up at him, a small, polite smile on her lips, "Why don't I get you two some drinks?"

Coriolanus is grateful that Soarynn isn't a negligent hostess and he nods, "I'll have a bourbon." Soarynn looks over at Sejanus whose smile has slightly dropped, "Just water for me please."

Soarynn hums and pushes herself from the sofa, the sound of her heels slowly receding as she walks to the kitchen.

Coriolanus takes her spot on the sofa and leans back, perfectly at ease in his home, "So you came here because you wanted to talk business?" It's ironic really, how Sejanus claims to be a businessman when everyone knows that his father nearly had to force his hand to get his son involved in their family business.

His question does nothing but unsettle Sejanus and Coriolanus revels in it. "Well, yes, you see my father wanted to implore if your father would be open to making some form of a trade agreement."

So Strabo Plinth has sent his pathetic son here to do his dirty work. Coriolanus can't say he's surprised, and in a way, he nearly respects the man for tasking his son with such a low line of work.

Their conversation comes to a slight halt when Soarynn reappears with two drinks on a silver tray. Coriolanus is more than pleased when she offers him his drink of choice first, as she should since he's the host and dominant party of the house. "Thank you, darling," he says as he takes the glass from her hand, noting that she's selected his favorite year of the drink.

Soarynn gives him a small smile before offering Sejanus his glass of water, "Please let me know if you'd like anything else, we have nearly every type of alcoholic beverage in stock," Soarynn tells Sejanus who waves her off, "The water is more than fine. Thank you Soarynn."

Soarynn nods before taking herself and the tray back to the kitchen, always knowing when and where she's needed. Coriolanus notices the way that Sejanus watches her leave, almost in a longing manner.

"Fancy my wife?" He asks with a playful tone even though he's anything but playful right now. He asks that imposing question right as Sejanus brings the glass of water to his lips and Sejanus nearly chokes on his water and fervently shakes his head, "Of course not! She's...she's far too young for me."

Coriolanus narrows his eyes at that particular comment, "Too young? What are you saying Sejanus? That I'm some sort of predator who preys on young girls?"

Coriolanus knows that he's blowing things out of proportion but he can't help but enjoy the look of panic on Sejanus Plinth's face as he tries to dig himself out of this hole he's put himself in.

"I would never! I mean, she is very beautiful, don't get me wrong, but she's not my type. And I would never want to ruin our friendship." Coriolanus raises his eyebrows at the mention of 'friendship' but he lets it slide since Sejanus is already worked up as it is. He silences Sejanus with the wave of his hand, "Relax Sejanus, I was only joking. You District folk should learn to loosen up."

He tacks on the word 'District' whenever he can just to remind Sejanus of his place and it seems to have the intended effect because Sejanus slightly deflates into his armchair, "I still meant no offense," he tells Coriolanus who only hums in reply.

Sejanus can mean whatever he wants, he'll never have a wife like Soarynn.

꧁ ꧂

Coriolanus sits in the armchair by the fireplace, lost in thought.

There's almost a domestic feeling to the scene in front of him on the bedroom floor. Soarynn smiling as she plays with her cat.

Petunia was a graduation gift from her father, a fluffy white kitten with a pink nose and eyes identical to Soarynn's. Coriolanus remembers how excited Soarynn was to show him the cat, how she grabbed his hand and tugged him into her townhouse. Soarynn is rather reserved, all things considered, so for her to take his hand and openly speak about something she cared about led Coriolanus to believe that Petunia was her everything.

The cat has a rather demanding personality in his humble opinion, constantly meowing for Soarynn's attention. But overall he doesn't mind Petunia as long as she stays out of his way. She mostly resides in their bedroom during the day, sleeping, lounging, and sleeping even more.

It must be exhausting to be a cat.

He takes another sip of his wine as he watches his wife play with her beloved cat, smiling as Petunia bats at a ribbon Soarynn would normally use to tie up her hair.

Coriolanus allows himself a small smile at the rather adorable sight before rising from the chair and walking into the bathroom. Both of them have a dinner to attend tomorrow night and Soarynn is also going to a charity event for the both of them since he'll be at work until later that evening. Being a socialite is enjoyable for the most part, but with work comes sacrifice so Soarynn attends many events for the both of them.

He begins to undress, taking his shoes off first, then his belt. Soarynn walks in a few minutes later to do the same, she's always been good at following his lead and conforming to his regular routines. He watches through the mirror's reflection as she slips off her pencil skirt, following suit with her blouse and heels.

She's a sight to behold from behind and Coriolanus enjoys the view of her ass for a moment before he shakes himself back into focus. Tonight is not the night for sexual antics, not with the busy day that they have ahead of them tomorrow. It's as if she's read his mind because Soarynn puts her clothes into her laundry basket, grabs her silk robe, and makes her way to her vanity where she does her morning and nightly routine.

Coriolanus does the same once he's undressed and washes his face in the sink. He still can't believe that Sejanus had the nerve to talk about his wife and come into his home and then have the audacity to be surprised when Coriolanus questioned his morals. Only someone from the Districts would pull a stunt like that.

Coriolanus had sent Sejanus on his way with the promise of thinking his proposal over even though he knew it would never happen. A trade agreement between the Snows and the Plinths. Please.

Coriolanus doesn't even realize he's scowling until Soarynn's soft voice pulls him from his thoughts, "Are you alright?"

He looks down at his wife who's seated behind her vanity, giving him a concerned look. He nods and grabs a towel to dry his face with, "Perfectly fine. Just upset that the gallery workers never showed up today."

There's some truth to his lie, no one from the gallery delivered their artwork today which means Coriolanus worked from home for nothing. There's truly nothing worse than incompetent people. He'll have to call tomorrow to sort everything out.

Soarynn nods and turns back to look at her reflection, "I was rather excited for everything to arrive today," she admits. Coriolanus raises a brow at her statement and can't help but ask a question, "Which piece were you most excited for?"

Rarely do they ever go past a surface-level conversation but there are the rare moments when they breach into an unknown area of their relationship where conversations go deeper than the surface. He watches Soarynn brush her hair, taking her time to untangle it, "The one with the flowers."

He's not surprised considering it was the first piece of work that truly caught her attention. A small grin tugs on his lips, "You mean the roses?" Soarynn shoots him a knowing look and rolls her eyes, "Not every flower can be a rose, even if you wish for it to be."

Soarynn has gotten all too familiar with the Snow family and their obsession with roses. She's only been granted the privilege of seeing the greenhouse once since marrying into the family, Coriolanus remembers how proud his mother was to show Soarynn the prized flowers.

He chuckles and shakes his head, "Everything can be as I wish it to be," he says rather proudly while strolling into the closet to find some pajama pants to wear. Coriolanus used to just sleep in his boxers, but after seeing how flustered it made Soarynn, he began wearing pants as well.

He shrugs off his silk robe and grabs a pair of pajama pants, made of some of the softest fabric he's ever felt. He feels tiny nails batting at his heel and he looks down to find Petunia lying on her side, clearly desperate to get some more energy out.

"I am not your playmate," he informs the cat who does nothing but meow in return. Coriolanus sighs and makes his way out of the closet and through the bathroom. Today has been rather exhausting and he's ready to go to bed.

Petunia leaps onto the bed and sits herself right on his pillow as if doing it on purpose. Coriolanus scoffs and gives her a gentle push towards Soarynn's side, "Don't forget I'm the one who pays the bills."

He pulls the sheets back and lets out a heavy sigh when he finally lays down on the bed, today has exhausted him.

Soarynn comes into their room a few minutes later with her hair braided down her back. Coriolanus would never admit this out loud, but he always looks forward to seeing what hairstyles Soarynn will be sporting. She takes excellent care of her hair, using different oils and serums to make it silky and lush. The only time he ever touches it is if he's grabbing a handful of it while taking her from behind.

But he often wishes he could run a loving hand through it instead.

But because this marriage is simply business, his wants and wishes truly don't matter.

Soarynn smiles down at Petunia who stands on her hind legs, purring when Soarynn scoops her into her arms, "You can't sleep on the bed my darling," Soarynn whispers to Petunia, who Coriolanus knows for a fact, will slip into bed once he falls asleep.

Still, he appreciates the gesture on Soarynn's part. At least she's considerate.

Soarynn slips into bed next to him and Coriolanus notes that she's gone with a light blue nightgown tonight, with lace on the neckline. Soarynn owns quite the collection of silk nightgowns, not that he's complaining.

She offers him a small smile before reaching over to turn off her bedside lamp, "Goodnight."

He nods, "Sleep well."

As they lay next to each other Coriolanus can't help but wonder what it would be like should he pull her into his strong arms. What it would be like to stay up late at night laughing about nonsense. But that won't happen, not with how their current dynamic is going.

So he'll settle for habitual, transactional sex where light touches mean nothing to either of them. Especially to him.

After all, he's cold and calculated.

| Part 1. |

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

[suicide-with-dazai]

"Diluc fluff scenarios"

tw: none !

tags: diluc x reader , esablished relashionship , 100% fluff <3

contrary to popular belief , dilucs heart isnt all that cold . sure , he lives for battle and revenge and the succession of his own industry, however , only you are aware that diluc has a soft side , a warm side . a side that climbs into bed next to your sleeping frame; whispering sweet nothings into your ears as he strokes your hair .

he may seem like a dangerous man to some - but you know hes far from it !

"luc...im cold..." you shiver as you toss and turn in bed , the window is shut but the freezing air attacks mondstadt like a vicious hound , biting at your fingertips and turning your lips blue .

"come, sweet girl~" he whispers deeply and softly as he wraps his toned arms around your body , kissing your forehead and making your heart flutter .

"i think you look really cute in that one~" he sits back on the dressing room chair , arms crossed and eyeing your figure as you try on a dress he picked out for you . a satin one , wine red ruffles hugging your waist and long panels of soft fabric flowing all the way down to the floor . you look ... perfect , you can tell by the way your boyfriend adjusts himself on the chair , trying not to stare too long .

you had been walking for about half an hour , and the sun was setting , he told you that he was going to show you something beautiful . the two of you reached a peaceful looking spot , with a large tree and a pond , just on the outskirts of mondstadt .

"soo... whats the beautiful thing you were going to show me ?" you sit down by the water , confused .

diluc kneels infront of you and softly says , "look in the pond."

you oblige , expecting to see a pretty lotus or a koi , but you see nothing... apart from your reflection . the moonlit starry sky behind you illuminating the ripples as you look into your own eyes for a moment .

you almost shed a tear , as youve been feeling a little insecure lately and you throw your arms around your kneeling boyfriend , his arms already out .

"isnt she pretty~?"

you nod , sniffling and resting your head in the crook of his neck . archons , he always knows how to charm you and make you feel like a nervous teenager all over again .

diluc treats your hands like glass , like theyre made of silk and holds them like a precious artifact .

"my treasure~" he whispers while he strokes and kisses the back of your hand .

its after hours in the Angels Share , and youre sat across from diluc , who is only slightly tipsy yet completely lovestruck . he intertwines his fingers with yours and brushes his thumb over your hand .

"i.... think i have a crush on you ..." he jokingly says .

you notice him blush and squeeze your hand tighter while he giggles like a child .

sat alone at home , you decide take a nap . gods , since dilucs been away on a business trip the house just feel so ... empty . you start to settle down , having nobody to cuddle you from behind .

but suddenly , you hear something slip through the letterbox . with a sigh you walk over to retrieve it .

'To my love ,

From Diluc Ragnvindr'

the envelope reads .

you quickly rush back to bed to open it :

'My baby , you have no idea how much i miss you , how lost i am without you , and how cold these nights get without someone to hold .

I hope youre okay , and coping well . Ill be back in a week , i promise , and ill give you the biggest kiss and cuddle youve ever had . Im eager to return to you , however this business trip could be a life changer for us - just know that i really love you , and i miss you darling .

- Luc ♡'

your eyes prick as you fold the letter back up , holding it in your arms as you drift off to sleep.

reblogs welcome <3 check out my pinned post i worked really hard on it :')

[asendingtothestarsasone]

Gentle Sin

Summary: A flat mate wanted listing sends you on a journey that leads you into the arms of the sweet but protective Jake.

Pairings: Jake Kiszka x Female Reader

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI

Oral (female receiving), Unprotected Sex, Assault, Dirty talk, Biting, Hair pulling, Mentions of Alcohol.

*This is my first fanfic/smut. Thank-you so much for reading and let me know if you want a part two*

When I saw the listing, I thought it could not be more perfect. 

Two musicians were in search of a flat mate for their spacious 3-bedroom house, featuring a generous bedroom, bath, and even a hot tub on a large balcony—all for just $250 a week. Being someone dedicated to learning guitar and nurturing my singer-songwriter aspirations within the confines of my bedroom, this opportunity felt like a gateway to fully immerse myself in Nashville's vibrant music scene. 

Knocking on the door, I was met by a captivating sight—a man with long, wavy brown hair, a striking face adorned with big doe brown eyes, and an enchanting smile. As he extended his hand for a shake, I could not help but feel the warmth of his soft yet calloused fingertips. 

"Hello, I'm Y/N. I'm here for the room viewing." 

"Yes, of course. Nice to meet you. I am Jake. Come inside, and I'll show you around." 

As Jake guided me through each room, his sweet demeanor captivated me. The house had a unique decoration style, blending modern and '70s aesthetics, with framed posters on the walls and electric guitars displayed proudly. Finally, we reached a white room at the end of the hallway, featuring a large bed with beautiful linens and a fur throw. 

"So, this would be your room if you decide to take it. It's filled with sunlight, and there's this lovely old desk for you to use." 

"That would be perfect for my music writing. It's a beautiful spot." 

"Oh, you're into music too?" 

"I wish I were a musician. I do it in my bedroom, but I dream of playing in front of people. I've been learning guitar as well." 

"That's great. I play guitar in a band with my brothers. I could teach you some things if you're interested." 

"Wow, yes, that would be amazing. I will definitely take the room now. 

"Perfect. I'll message you all the details in the next few days, and once you're settled in, we can have a jam session." 

"Sounds perfect. See you soon." 

"See you soon, Y/N." 

As I carried my last box into the new place, a sense of satisfaction washed over me. Seated on my bed, I thought, 'This is going to be good for me. Change is a good thing.' After a challenging previous relationship, being on my own to focus on my dreams felt like the right step. 

Over the next few days, I unpacked and transformed my room into a cozy haven. Yet, I had not interacted much with my new flat mates, who were both away on road trips playing gigs. 

The following day, a knock on the door revealed a tall man with short black hair, an eyebrow piercing, and deep blue eyes—Nick. 

"Sorry, I couldn't find my key. You must be Y/N." 

"Yes, I am. I just moved in a few weeks ago." 

"Hi, I'm Nick. Are you from Nashville?" 

"No, I'm from a small town in Michigan called Milford. What about you?" 

A voice chimed in from behind, and I turned to see Jake entering. 

"Wait, you're from Milford?" 

"Yeah, I grew up there." 

"No way, I grew up in Frankenmuth with my brothers. That's where we started our band in our parents' garage." 

Nick laughed, "And you never really made it out of there, did you?" 

"Hahaha. Good to see you as always, Nick." 

Jake suggested, "So, you guys hungry? I was thinking we could go out for some dinner, maybe a drink or two, or three." 

"Hell yeah," Nick exclaimed. 

"I'm down," I replied. 

As our nights out continued, the dynamics between us became more apparent. One evening, after dinner and a couple of drinks, Jake opened up about his musical journey. He shared the challenges of balancing artistic integrity with the demands of the industry. It became evident that he was not only a talented musician but also someone deeply passionate about the craft. 

Meanwhile, Nick's charisma was undeniable. Over drinks, he revealed that he was the lead singer of a rock band that had gained local recognition. He spoke animatedly about the thrill of performing in front of a roaring crowd, but there was an underlying competitiveness in his tone, especially when Jake's accomplishments were brought up. 

In the following days, as Nick's band went on tour, Jake and I spent more time together in the house. Our shared love for music created a natural connection, and Jake became not just a roommate but a mentor. He patiently guided me through chord progressions, song structures, and the art of storytelling through music. It was during these moments that a deeper bond formed, one that transcended the shared space we inhabited. 

Late nights turned into early mornings filled with laughter, music, and meaningful conversations. Jake's stories of his own musical journey, the ups, the downs, and the lessons learned, resonated with my own aspirations. It was in these moments that I realized our connection was evolving into something more profound. 

However, the peaceful harmony we were creating was disrupted when Nick returned from his tour. His demeanor had shifted – he was constantly drinking, and his once-charming confidence now bordered on arrogance. Nick's attempts to impress me became increasingly apparent, and his behavior towards Jake grew confrontational. 

Tensions escalated one evening when Nick, fueled by alcohol and jealousy, made snide remarks about Jake's music, and questioned his dedication to the craft. The atmosphere in the house became tense, and it was clear that the friendly camaraderie we once shared was threatened by Nick's insecurities. 

Amidst the growing discord, Jake and I found solace in our shared passion for music. We retreated to the balcony, away from the brewing storm inside. Under the starlit Nashville sky, Jake expressed his concern about the strained atmosphere and Nick's changing behavior. As we spoke, the undeniable connection between us became palpable, and the unspoken understanding deepened. 

In the days that followed, Jake and I continued to immerse ourselves in music. He shared not only technical knowledge but also the emotional nuances that make a song resonate. Our collaboration on songwriting projects became a therapeutic outlet, a sanctuary away from the brewing tension within the house. 

As the divide between Jake and Nick grew, it became clear that Nick's feelings for me were a driving force behind the conflict. The once vibrant energy of the house was now overshadowed by the growing animosity between the two musicians, leaving me caught in the middle of an unfolding drama that threatened to disrupt the harmony we had cultivated. 

 

One night, as I stepped out of the shower and hastily threw on some clothes, I heard a commotion downstairs. Curious and concerned, I headed down the stairs, only to witness Nick and his friend barging through the door. His friend continued down the hall, while Nick stood there, demanding my attention. 

"Come down here, Y/N, I need to talk to you," he insisted. As I descended the stairs, he began making inappropriate advances, emphasizing how beautiful I was and suggesting I deserved someone better. 

Uncomfortable and distressed, I asked him to stop, but he ignored my pleas. In that unsettling moment, Jake intervened, stepping up behind me. 

"Don't touch her, Nick," Jake warned. There was a silent exchange between them, a look that conveyed an unspoken rule. However, Nick's response was aggression, pushing Jake to the brink. 

As Nick lashed out, hitting Jake, and causing blood to flow from his nose, panic set in. I screamed for Nick to stop, but it only fueled his anger. Desperation took over, and I found myself standing between them, pleading for peace. 

In a fit of rage, Nick struck me and shoved me into the wall. Jake, driven by a protective instinct, retaliated, unleashing a torrent of punches on Nick until he crumpled to the ground. Frantically, I tried to pull Jake away, begging him to stop. Locking eyes with him, I implored, "Look at me, Jake. Please, stop." 

Something in his gaze shifted, and he paused, realizing the extent of the chaos. He looked down at his bloodied hands and whispered, "Oh my God, what have I done?" 

In the aftermath, Nick's friend emerged from the bathroom, appalled by the scene. He helped Nick up and ushered him out the door. Tears streaming down my face, Jake wiped them away and we clung to each other in silence, processing the whirlwind of emotions. 

 

Finally finding words, Jake apologized sincerely, expressing disbelief that anyone would dare to harm me. We sat in quiet solidarity, grappling with the aftermath of the violent encounter. He eventually stood up, gently pulling me into his room.  

We perched on the edge of the bed, and Jake began cleaning up the remnants of the blood. Once the task was complete, he sat next to me, wiping away the tears that still streamed down my face. As he tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear, I impulsively grabbed his chin and kissed him. The warmth of the kiss provided solace after the pain that had just unfolded. 

He pulled away, a question in his eyes, "Are you sure you want to do that... now?" 

I responded with conviction, "I have never been more sure of anything." He cupped the back of my neck, and we shared a powerful kiss that felt like a healing balm for the wounds we had both endured. It was almost overwhelming, a moment of profound connection in the chaos. 

I kissed him back trying to match his fire but he pushed my back on the bed and soon he was on top if me kissing me with such intensity. He trailed kissed down my neck until I was moaning. Running his fingers through my hair I was overwhelmed with sensations. I could feel his cock getting hard against me which make me let out a moan. He pulled my shirt over my head “can I touch you?” “please” he cupped my breast and squeezed it running his fingers over my nipple while he bit into my neck. 

I was starting to get wet, then he pulled off my skirt and ran his hand over my panties “is this, okay?” “Yes, please don't stop” he pulled my panties down and started laying a trail of kisses from neck down to my pussy. Then started running circles over my clit with his tongue so slow and delicately I was losing it. 

I came hard and felt my wetness pooling. He brought two fingers up to my entrance and slowly put them inside me. The feeling of being filled up by his fingers with his tongue on my clit was too much and I came again.  

He then brought his fingers up to his mouth and licked them clean. He came back up and kissed me so sweetly "can I fuck you"  "please fuck me I want you so bad" and he pulled his boxers down and lined up with my opening. He kissed me on the lips so passionately and pushed his cock inside me. The feeling was too much. 

He immediately filled me all the way up until I could not take anymore, and I moaned with pleasure. He started kissing my neck again and biting me while fucking me hard and deep “oh Y/N you feel so fucking good” he cupped my breasts and squeezed them while trusting into me. 

Then he grabbed a handful of my hair and gave it a gentle pull and layed into me so hard it feel like heaven ”fuck I am going to come” “come for me baby” “come all over my cock” just like that I was putty in his hands I came hard digging my nails into him "good girl" fuck this man was magic.  

I have never felt like this before he whispered in my ear “fuck you feel so good I'm going to come” “please come inside me” “you want me to fill you up baby?” “Yes, I'm begging you” he came so hard inside me I could feel his cock pulsating.  

As he pulled out of me the warm liquid rushed out, he got a towel to clean me up and after I was all cleaned up, he pulled me into a cuddle and played with my hair just as I was falling asleep I heard him whisper “I want to keep you Y/N, forever” 

[piedpiperslists]

JJK: Sex Industry Worker AU

List of all Jungkook fics under 'Sex Industry Worker' AU:

* ² - two shots s - contains smut

* Last updated: 18/02/2024

D R A B B L E S

[drabble] by noteguk s camgirl!reader, roommates au, PWP

* 1-800-LUST by btsfiles s phone sex operator au Summary: Jungkook looks for a phone-sex ad because he’d heard good things about it, but he isn’t sure if it’s as legit as they say. He decides to call for himself.

Faceless Beauty by sxtaep s camgirl!reader, friends to lovers Summary: Jungkook was an avid supporter of your onlyfans content, except he didn’t know it was you, one of his closest friends, parading her body on the internet for the world to see.

Fluff and Smut by jingabitch s pornstar!Jungkook, fluffer!reader Summary: Porn star JK is in love with his fluffer.

Get Freaky on Camera by here2bbtstrash s camboy!Jungkook, camgirl!reader, friends au Summary: Your camming partner thinks he can handle your new toy.

O N E S H O T S

Calling It Now [AO3] by reliablemitten s wc~14.5k / brothel worker!Jungkook, friends to lovers, brothel au Summary: Jungkook has always been there for you, a steady friend and supporter. But when you cross the line, does he really return your feelings or are you just another client?

You’ll Find Love with Me [AO3] by reliablemitten s wc~5k / sexpert!Jungkook, established relationship Summary: Your husband Jungkook is a famous YouTuber who teaches people how to be more confident in the bedroom. You go back to the university where you met for homecoming and some sexy shenanigans ensue.

Christmas Is Waiting for You [AO3] by lamourche s wc~10k / rivals to lovers, phone sex au Summary: Being home for the holidays surrounded by your well-meaning family isn’t that bad. All you have to do is (1) survive the Andersons’ annual Christmas Eve party, (2) avoid all questions about your job, and (3) avoid your high school nemesis and crush, Jeon Jungkook.

Imminent Danger by whatifyoulivelikethat s wc~5.4k / sex workers!couple, established relationship Summary: Jeon Jungkook? Shh, not too loud... from that sex blog, right? Uh huh. Heard he was actually a reader first, and then he slid into those DMs, one thing lead to another... So brave... ugh, he's so hot, she's so hot, they're so sexy together... and they make all that content to get off to... eh? Wait, they're live today?

Koopid by gwoongi s wc~4.7k / ft KNJ, boyfriend!Jungkook, pornstar!couple Summary: The sight of his shit-eating grin leaves Namjoon with a prickle of hot frustration that hurts when the video rolls to an end, with no flashy end credits or promotion. Just a black screen with his own idiot reflection staring back at him.

Lana by gwoongi s wc~7.3k / ft PJM, boyfriend!Jungkook, pornstar!couple Summary: This position is particularly ambiguous; your face is almost gone, only slightly in frame, with the lens zoomed further in to your ass and Jeongguk’s thighs, his ass there but moving as he leans for the lube across the bed. If he wanted, Jimin could pretend the figure beneath Jeongguk was a boy- could be him, if he wanted. He does not want.

Make You Scream by 13lov s wc~9k / camgirl!reader, friends to lovers Summary: In which Jungkook fucks you while wearing a Ghostface mask for thousands of people to see.

Night Crawlers by alphabetboyluvr s wc~26k / drug runner!Jungkook, sugar baby!reader, college au Summary: Jungkook’s always been good at running. Track, field, red lights, shit outta luck. Drugs, now, too.  But he doesn’t expect to run into you.  In your shared lecture halls, sure. Maybe. But not down the back alleys of daerim at ass o’clock in the morning.  There are only three types of women he ever sees in daerim: hookers, sugar-babies and addicts. You aren't any of those; you're a trust-fund baby who can get percocet on private repeat prescription, if you really want it. He's sure of it.  So it then further begs the question: why the fuck are you here?

Not So Camera Shy by bangtaninink wc~2.3k / pornstar!Jungkook, friends to lovers Summary: Things aren’t always as they seem, and Jungkook might not just be Jungkook, the aspiring singer.

She Ride Me (Like A Porn Star) by bangtaninink s wc~2.3k / pornstar!Jungkook, friends to lovers

All This All Work (No Vacation) by bangtaninink s wc~3.8k / pornstar!Jungkook, established relationship

simply.cute97 by httpjeon s wc~6.5k / camgirl!reader, strangers to lovers Summary: You’re popular camgirl simply.cute97. domjeon09 is your biggest fan.

Sparrow by justanotherstarlightmonger s wc~6.2k / assassin!reader, escort!reader, mafia au Summary: Trained to kill, and a mistress to lust. Those were the two aspects of your life that were most prominent. No one saw the third part coming. Jeon Jungkook's sparrow.

Sugar Honey Iced Tea by bangtaninink s wc~3.6k / ft MYG, sugar baby!reader Summary: It’s been a stressful week, and the two CEOs of BTS Enterprises are in need of some rest and relaxation. But you haven’t been answering their calls, and they’re not very happy.

The Cockpile: Try Out by httpjeon s wc~6.6k / pornstar!Jungkook, established relationship Summary: Dating a porn star wasn’t easy. Jealousy can run rampant if there’s no communication.

This Isn’t Love, Darling by junqkook s wc~5.3k / angst, escort!reader, mafia au Summary: He tasted of an empty night and an eclipsing moon, with blood on his hands and fire in his eyes when he put his mouth on yours.

T W O S H O T S / S E R I E S

Behind Pixels ² by aseaofyoongi s sex worker!Jungkook, college au Summary: With rising stress, being caught touching yourself and no satisfaction for your own imagination you decide to take your friends advice of using a certain little app for assistance.

Twelve Hours ² by whatifyoulivelikethat s film director!Jungkook, burlesque dancer!reader Summary: You have twelve hours to make Jeon Jungkook fall in love with you. He's about to get married. You're the entertainment at his bachelor party - a burlesque dancer. Long ago, he used to be the class representative and you used to be the class delinquent. Nothing has changed and, yet, everything has.

[iveremade]

Shotgunshipping Sims

I’ve been playing Saw Sims lately, so I thought I would show off my Amanda, Lynn, and Corbett.

Amanda’s traits are erratic, jealous, and loyal. And I tried to get her everyday look, her pajamas, and her cold weather clothes as close to canon as possible while still having fun with them. (Saw 3, Saw 2, and the deleted “Rockstar” scene, respectively.)

Lynn’s traits are gloomy, bookworm, and overachiever. I know that a love of books is not expressly canon for her, but I imagine her liking solitary activities. I also thought the escapism of reading would suit her, considering that we see that she tends to fade away when she’s stressed. I had a much harder time dressing Lynn, because all of the flowy tops were crop tops and I just don’t imagine that being her style. 😔

I gave Corbett the loner trait, for obvious shitty dad reasons, but I also gave her creative interests because now that she’s away from Jeff, she could use an outlet to express herself.

Also, @refractical and I are Pitbull Owner Amanda truthers, so here is her baby Crash. He’s friendly and loyal, but he’s a rescue, so he’s also very jumpy.

They live in an apartment in Evergreen Harbor, because that world is filled with green smog and even has a industrial dock area. So I thought it would be a good representation of Jigsaw City. (The Chainshipping family also lives in Evergreen Harbor, in the newly renovated Nerve Gas House.)

I started playing with it as more of a situationship between Lynn and Amanda, with Amanda sleeping on a murphy bed in Lynn’s apartment.

But because this is the Sims, the murphy bed fucking killed Amanda. So after Lynn begged the Grim Reaper to spare her, I decided to change course and get them officially together so they could share a bed. But on the bright side, that meant I could give the living room a little more pizzazz. Everyone say “Hi, Grim! 🫶”

And then I just kept the blue and green going for most the apartment because I thought it would be a good Lynn color scheme.

I did tone down the colors for the bedroom, though. Just to give her a more neutral place where she can breathe. I also think she would keep her grief over Dylan very private, so his and Corbett’s growth charts are hung up together here instead of in the living room. And the framed painting is actually a television!

All of the plants in the apartment are fake, though. I think Lynn would like the idea of being a plant lady, but her depressed ass is NOT maintaining a garden.

And unfortunately, I couldn’t find anywhere to put a woodworking table for Amanda, so she has to build up her handiness skill through reading instruction manuals. But I can live with that for now, because gaining skills for Jigsaw tasks through written instruction is something that is canonical for Amanda (Saw 3).

Finally, for Corbett’s room, I thought this would be a chance for her to to be a little spoiled after a long stretch of basically being neglected. All her movie furniture can be for Jeff’s house. Lynn is indulging her baby these days.

I also gave her some dog-themed furniture to reflect how she’s taken a shine to Crash, as well as a piggy chair as a shoutout to the bond she had with Dylan. She’s really grown to love cross-stitching, and she likes to sit in the piggy chair while she does it.

Okay, that’s all! Bye-bye now! 🫶

[hanasnx]

i've loved the whole starlet reader little bits and bobs recently. she's my babygirl, i have posters of her up on my walls and her playboy cover under my bed <33

i know the au! is hayden-based, but my brain circled around anakin for this one. 

in my mind the prequels take place in what would be our 1940s or 1950s as the ogs reflected closer the political context of the 60s. 

which lends itself for a golden-age starlet reader, and i wanted to share a thought! ITS SO LONG IM SO SORRY  ;;

-🥩

with a war raging on, people need some sort of distraction as to not go insane with the politics and bloodshed of it all - an escapism the entertainment industry is more than happy to provide. anything you could possibly want to escape your own life for a little while, they have. 

i like to imagine each clone legion has has their own taste when it comes down to their poison of choice - the 302th are very into the thrillers of an acclaimed silver fox actor. the 127th favour comedies regardless of whoever stars in them.

the 501st claimed starlet!reader as their girl. that's quite literally how she's known in the clones barracks, "the 501st's girl".

the legion is very familiar with their girl and her filmography. even though not all of her repertoire is romance, that's the one genre they indulge in the most.  

in the two hours they get to spend with her, they get to live the romance of a lifetime they may never get to experience otherwise. she's their forbidden lover, their wife, their temptress.

their girl, really.

she's special to them, even if in a parasocial way. it's a tragic thought to think how many of them passed with a picture of her on the windshield of their ship. 

maybe that's why anakin agreed to watch a holo-film of hers with the 401st. it's important to them, so it's important to him. a little bonding time. 

he just didn't expect to become so quickly enraptured with you, too - not in the same way his clone comrades are, their girl is the vessel for their fantasies. to anakin? you're his fantasy. 

i doubt he cares much for your movies, i think he prefers your interviews and commercials.  he has a few favorite frames he comes back to often. 

he lingers on them more than he should - a parasocial relationship *hardly* counts as an attachment anyways. 

considering how most holo-projections are 3D, i'm sure he's already familiar with your form, from head to toes. 

but no projection can compare to seeing the real thing for the first time - you were actually real? he couldn't wrap his head around that idea. 

i mean, you looked real when you arrived in a pretty little white-blue outfit, accompanied by palpatine, (who ofc organized the whole thing). you were all smiles and waves, clearly trying to make contact with as many eyes as you could before you went onstage.  

you sounded real when you yelped and giggled when you almost tripped on the slippery stairs when you were headed center to deliver a small speech to your boys (as you so lovingly called them). 

but what really almost sold him on the fact that you were real, was feeling you. physically you were meters away, but with his connection to the force? you were almost breathing down his neck with how close he felt your force presence. the very essence of what makes you, you. 

you were singing your heart out up there -  oblivious to how you intoxicated almost all of anakin's senses by simply existing in the same space as him. 

he just really needed to confirm you tasted real, to be completly sold on your existence as something beyond a hallucination of his haunted mind. 

WHAT THE FUCK

look i dont like long inbox msgs bcos its rly difficult for me to focus on them and all that etc etc whatever whatever but this.. this i loved reading. i want more of it. i want to hear more about the 501st's girl and how ppl joke about it "oh hows your lil girlfriend??" as if shes the collective gf of this division sldfj. i wonder how anakin gets closer, do you feel drawn to him too? if so, is it cos hes pretty or is it a magical thing? are the 501st jealous or playfully jealous over anakins success in bagging you??

my cheeks slowly heated up the entire time i read it i rly enjoyed it omg

[crystal-overdrive]

Writer Interview Tag ✍️

Thank you for the tag @darkurgetrash!

When did you start writing?

I'm a pandemic writer! I'd always liked the idea of writing, but lockdown gave me the time to actually commit to finishing pieces. I wrote my first visual novel when I was 26, moved into narrative design at work at 27, then started my master's degree in creative writing at 29. Towards Tyranny is the first fanfiction I've written, though I have been a reader since 2008-ish. From both perspectives I suppose I'm relatively late to writing. Sometimes I feel like I'm ancient and sometimes I feel very young, but I think having a decade of life experience under my belt before I started writing has helped me to craft more meaningful narratives. The best writers I know are in their 50s and I'm twenty years off that! With admitting that I'm actually educated in and have professional experience with writing, I feel like I must explain that Towards Tyranny is 100% unedited - pure brain garbage. I'm more invested in keeping up with my schedule and delivering a story than crafting fantastic (or even middling) prose.

Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?

Outside of fic I mostly write science-fiction and drama. I listen to a lot of horror audio drama and fiction podcasts, and while there is a horror element lurking in the background of some of my work, I'm yet to fully venture into that territory.

Most of the sci-fi I read is lefty political spec-fic. Eventually I'd like my own sf work to contain those sorts of themes but I don't think I'm politically astute enough right now to do that justice.

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?

One of the best-worst comments I ever got from a professor was "Neal Stephenson can get away with this. You are not Neal Stephenson," in reference to my use of dense neologisms and tech-industry specific language. He later said the piece was better than Blade Runner so, idk, maybe I can get away with that! 😂 I got another Philip K Dick comparison with my current supervisor when we were talking about theme and he told me his prose is shit but he does theme so well that it doesn't matter. 😬 With prose, the dream is to be some combination of Ursula K Le Guin and William Gibson, write some ecofeminist cyberpunk stuff. With drama I'm obsessed with Caryl Chruchill. She breaks the rules in such delightful ways, and my latest play cribs her werido no-punctuation style.

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

I have my own office because when I was working both my partner and I were under NDAs, so we had to give up the spare bedroom so we could stop sharing the office. I couldn't go back now. Having space in the house just for me is so wonderful. My desk is frequently an absolute state, but it's organised chaos, I know where everything is. I have my craft books in here and a big whiteboard for all my tasks for the week. Behind my monitor I have a motivation wall of printed out comments on my work, and I also have all the fandom artwork I've bought framed in here. The other art in the house is a little more tasteful so this is the sexy Gortash quarantine zone.

What's your most effective way to muster up a muse?

I think it depends on your definition of muse. If it means "the will to write", there is no muse. Its all routine and deadlines, baby. I know I sound like one of those grouchy old writers, but you sit and you write, that's it. Some days it's crap. Most days it isn't. In terms of idea generation, my primary technique is just daydreaming, honestly. I joke with my partner that I'm "going to bed to watch TV" which actually means just imagining what's going to happen next in my story for like 2 hours before I fall asleep. I go on a walk most days and think then. In dire moments just lying on the floor until an idea comes also works. When I'm actually gearing stuff up for pitching I look back through my old notebooks, make mind maps and take inspiration from news and magazines. I have a box with clippings from Wired, New Scientist and those trashy "true story" magazines like Take a Break. Juxtaposing headlines and images from those often gives me something interesting to work with. I went to an archives workshop recently so I might try archive diving when I start my next project.

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

Alternative realities and expectations of women seem to saturate my writing. This year I've written a screenplay about jumping dimensions which questioned the value of motherhood, part of a novel about teenage girls being suicide baited in VR to achieve eternal beauty, an interactive fiction piece about a game able to alter reality and a radio play about simulation theory.

Towards Tyranny is absolutely loaded with the expectations of women thing, with marriage, children, parental expectations and societal expectations being really core to Tav's life choices and dilemmas. It's a pretty negative take considering where we're going right now.

What is your reason for writing?

That's an interesting question! There's absolutely no doubt that Towards Tyranny is kind of therapy for me. I wrote my way through a crisis of faith, through feeling like I was perceived as unequal to my partner, through losing friends to mortgages and pets and babies. I honestly don't think I would be engaged right now if I hadn't written this. I'm really terrible at identifying my own emotions and for some reason making up a hot character with all my worst traits and sending her down the fascist pipeline has helped me with that. 😂

I think at this point with TT I'm now writing for the audience. I know you're "not supposed" to do that but I don't create things to hide them away, I create things to connect with others, in the hope that someone else sees themselves in my viewpoint. I doubt I'm so unique that no one else has these problems!

In my more general writing life I suppose that is it, I write to connect with people, to share ideas, maybe? I just enjoy it, really.

Is there any specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating?

Every single time I get a comment it makes me so excited. I fucking live for comments. My favourites are definitely ones that speculate on what's coming next. The fun part of working in a serial format is going on that guessing journey with the readers and seeing where they think things are going. I'm pretty convinced that my readers have a very different idea of how TT will end compared to me, which is going to be interesting. 👀

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

For my wider work I almost don't want to be thought of, I'm big believer in death of the author and am really interested in audience interpretations and what they do with the work. With the fic, it's all about community. I must admit I have a very cringe fantasy of like, expertly ordering wine in my gorgeous heels at some BG3 convention and someone being like "you wrote Towards Tyranny, didn't you?". That's fucking embarrassing lol. But that's the point of (what used to be) a self-insert, right? You but cool and hot? I suppose I want the audience to think I'm smart, elegant, astute, while honestly what I'm telling them is that I'm a dumbass who doesn't know her own emotions and has a crisis over how people view her every other week.

There's definitely a lot of power in knowing that people are waiting for you to post next week and to know that you're eliciting emotion from them. My posting schedule is important to me. I would die if I thought my audience saw me as flaky or unable to commit and finish what I started.

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

My dialogue is pretty good. Most of my education has been in writing for stage and screen, and I think that comes across in my prose too. I don't have a car, so I spend a lot of time being nosy on public transport and listening to how people talk, and I hope that's filtered into how I write different voices.

How do you feel about your own writing?

Some days I think I'm the Goddess' gift to the Earth and other days I think I'm the fucking worst and should just give up. The objective truth is that I'm...fine? I think I'm in a pretty good place as an early career writer. I've got loads of stuff to develop, but my plays are being picked up by scratch nights and small theatres, and I've had positive feedback on my prose by published authors. As I said before Towards Tyranny is not an accurate reflection of my skill level but I do really like it, it's fun, it has stuff to say, it's hot. I've had a lot of doubts about it given it's my first longform piece and my first fanwork, particularly with the sex scenes and the idea that it probably won't end how the readership wants it to, but it does have a readership who have been incredibly kind about it, which has really bolstered me in moments of doubt.

[doublel27]

other than the items pointed out during push, are there certain items in the loft that u associate with tk ? the art visually stands out to me as largely from carlos, but i'd be curious to hear ur thoughts if u feel like sharing !

Oh, that's a great question! Thanks for asking.

For one, the whole style of the loft feels closer to TK than the townhouse ever did. There's big windows and open space and a huge comfortable couch. The brick and industrial feel is also very lower Manhattan and parts of Brooklyn. TK's apartment looked to be Hell's kitchen, so not far from where the industrial stuff would have been.

I think also the bed linens are more TK/The Strands than the very dark striped option Carlos had in the loft previously. The plush, white and cozy looking is similar to the spread we see Owen with in season 2 when Gwyn is around (my beloved).

I also feel like TK is the reason there is a bowl behind the couch where the mail and keys go. I headcanon pretty hard that TK is ADHD and having things VISABLE is essential for that.

While I agree the art feels like Carlos, I feel like the photos of them around the house are TK. Carlos had no family photos in the loft that we saw. While in TV terms his family hadn't been cast in season one, I think TK's the one that takes pictures and prints them out and gets them framed. Or he says "We should get this one framed" so many times that Carlos does it...whichever way it goes. But I think that's definitely a TK thing. He has his mom's photo albums and Owen has pictures of TK on the fridge and around the house.

The kitchen is definitely Carlos's domain. As is, I would argue, the dining room. Those are very loudly Carlos to me.

[glitchyrealities]

Rorschach Voyeurism

Carrey!Riddler x OFC

part 1/8

"when you were here before, couldn't look you in the eye"

see a03 for tags and full story

Prologue

Everyone knew Edward Nygma was obsessed with Bruce Wayne, if the pictures splattered all over his walls were any evidence. He didn’t advertise his fascination with the younger Katherine Wayne, but it was obvious to anyone who paid attention. Her dark eyes and ruby lips were permanent residents in his fantasies. He’d met her once, well, seen her. She was sitting cross-legged on the receptionist's desk after a Wayne Industries New Year’s Eve party with a bottle of champagne in her hand. That night he dreamed a world where he caught her eye and they’d shared the bottle. After New Years, she disappeared. No one heard from her, but she had been captured in plenty of photos. She never stopped in one place for long, walking runways across Europe and Asia. He’d read every article and clipped her pictures from each magazine, methodologically pinning them up in his apartment. 

“...beautiful.” Edward mutters to himself, standing in the grocery store checkout line and clutching a special edition with her face on the cover. 

“Mister, you gonna buy that?” An unimpressed college girl stands behind the register, her hair in a ponytail and a couple cigarettes in her front shirt pocket. Edward now notices that the line is clear, and must’ve been for a while while he was lost in thought. He flushes, and steps forward without a word, laying the magazine down on the conveyor belt with a pack of pens and a bag of ground coffee. He shoves his hands in his pockets as she scans the items, fumbling for his wallet. 

It’s cold and rainy when he reaches the door, the raindrops covering his glasses and immediately impeding his vision. He groans and sets the grocery bag down, wiping his glasses, just for them to be covered again as soon as he looks back towards the street. He starts to take them back off, before a warm body walks right into him. 

“Oh!” A feminine gasp comes from the body, “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Edward says without looking up, still fiddling with the glasses. 

“No, really. Here, take my umbrella. You look like you need it more than I do.”

“Oh...thank you!” He says, surprised and finally moving to meet her eyes as she practically shoves the umbrella into his hands. 

“It’s no problem, sorry again.” The brunette rushes off into the crowd just as Edward recognizes her. He pushes through the crowd, desperately searching for one more look at her, but it’s no use, she’s gone. When he looks back down, he notices the umbrella in his hands. Specifically, the “K.W.” professionally embroidered on the corner in gold threading. He runs his thumb over it, his heart thumping in his chest. He tucks the umbrella under his coat and takes off down the street, bag in hand. 

*

Katherine is soaked when she walks through the door, slipping off her heeled boots and raincoat and piling them beside the entryway. 

“Hello?” She calls into the vast expanse of Wayne Manor, stockinged  feet padding across the hardwood. “Hm.” 

“Miss Katherine!”

She smiles, “Hi, Alfred.”

“Master Bruce will be home very late, but I can make up some coffee if you’d like to wait up?”

“No, no. I think I’ll just take a warm bath and go to bed.” She says, running her hand over the railing as she takes the first few steps up the staircase.

“Of course. Oh, and welcome home.” Alfred says with a gentle smile.

“Thanks, Alfred.” She mutters, heading up the stairs to take her shower.

Her room is just the way it was when she left. She was 23, fresh out of business school and getting signed for an international contract. It’s only been two years, but it seems like so much longer. The world has changed, she’s changed. She falls onto the bed with a gentle moan, wriggling into the goosedown and twisting around to grasp for something on her nightstand. Her fingers close around an oak frame and she brings the picture down from it’s place to rest it on the towel she has wrapped around her. Martha and Thomas Wayne, each with an arm around one of their young children. Bruce was seven in this picture, Katherine was two. She puts the picture back into its place and turns over in the bed with a sigh, staring out the open window. 

*

He pins the magazine cover to the wall, chewing on the inside of his lip, before turning back to his desk where the umbrella sits. He can’t fully believe it. She...touched him. He sits on the rickety twin bed. If he focuses on the memory, shutting his eyes and going back to that afternoon, he can almost feel her warmth against him and the brush of her hand against his. He’s frustrated with himself for not noticing who she was sooner, recognizing her voice, or at least looking up at her as soon as she bumped into him. But he didn’t, the opportunity was squandered, and yet she still gifted him with something of hers. It’s just an umbrella, but the sight of K.W. makes his heart skip a beat. He wants to see those initials everywhere. They fill his head. K.W. K.W. K.W. K.N. He opens his eyes with a start, blushing at the thought of K.N. engraved on her jewelry. The thought that there could be a universe where she belonged to him, on his arm and in his bed at night. He lets himself believe the fantasy long enough to drift into a peaceful sleep.

[lemortehomme]

New Story Coming Soon!

I've been quiet for a bit but I haven't been idle! I've been working on my next longfic. You can find a preview of some of the first chapter below the cut!

Also, I have been balls-to-the-wall with this dang story and have absolutely no outside perspective on it 🙃 so if anyone would be interested in beta-ing, hit me up. I'm not looking for line-by-line editing, more so pacing and "why the fuck is this plot thread here when you never pick it back up" kind of beta-ing. It is already a long story (so far, 27 chapters and over 100k with more to come), so I would be happy to offer betaing in return, or illustrate your story, or attempt binding one of your fics into a book (I'm still learning how to do this though lol).

Revenant

Beth wakes up screaming in the back of an ambulance, dying not from a gunshot to the head, but from a suicide attempt. Walkers are nothing but a distant memory she can't forget and no one remembers. Three lonely years later, Beth is almost ready to accept the memories are delusions, until Daryl Dixon crosses her path for the first time.

And he knows her name.

A loose thread dangles from her sleeve. Beth captures it between her fingers, rolling it back and forth until it twists itself into a sharp point. She lets go and the thread curls, but the point remains. There is a muted squeak from the office chair across from her as Dr. Blake shifts in her seat.

Beth looks at her from beneath wheat straw hair, dried to a crisp by the industrial-strength shampoo she must use. Dr. Blake is pretty in the way older women are; the lines on her face are comforting and the crows feet punctuating the corners of her eyes hold a lifetime's worth of experience. Beth knows she is married because of the ring, but there are no photos of her family on her desk. There is, however, a framed photo of a sunset, film-grained and amateur in a way that speaks to it being a shot Dr. Blake or her husband took, rather than a photographer's work. Beth has always wanted to ask where it was taken.

Dr. Blake shifts again and says, "Are you sure you don't have anything else you'd like to share with me today, Beth? Not even your opinion about our kitchen's take on chicken parmesan?"

"No, I've been feelin' alright," Beth says with a little shake of her head, straw hair rustling like dead grass.

Grass baked by the sun crepitated as worn soles broke the stems; the enduring sun brought beads of sweat popping up across her forehead as she watched Rick make his way down the hill. On the other side of the fence waited—

"Can you tell me what you see right now?"

The thread is caught again between her fingers and Beth lowers her eyes to her laceless shoes. "I see you. In your chair. Your desk. I see my shoes. The carpet."

"Good. Will you tell me what it was?"

"My hair. It sounded like grass."

Dr. Blake blinks patiently, waiting, as she always does, for Beth to volunteer more information of her own free will. But the more Beth talks about these delusions—delusions, she must use the right word or she will slip up; they are not memories—the longer she will be here, so she doesn't. It is her second longest stint, three months so far. She's been shuffled between the centers, units, and wards of half the state. Maggie promises there's a place waiting for her at home every time they talk, but Beth knows the bed waiting for her is conditional. She will lose herself again and return to the bland embrace of locked wards.

She doesn't get a say in these decisions. Each one is made for her and will be long after she returns home. One of the decisions made for her happened right after she was locked away the first time and the courts said she was not in a place to make decisions for herself. The problem with being crazy is once people know you're crazy, you can never convince them otherwise 

"Okay. Our time's almost up. I'm really proud of the progress you've made here," Dr. Blake says, turning her clipboard over to reveal the smooth, brown back. "I think you have a solid foundation for success."

And with those words, Beth knows she is getting out soon, because she has not made any progress, she only knows how to lie in the way they want.

[spacecadet-ticklesinspace]

Not Far Apart

Summary: Two's away on business when he receives a special call ❤️

Peter 2 let out a long sigh as he collapsed onto the hotel bed. One of the down sides to travel conventions was having to spend the night on the world's lumpiest mattress. It somehow managed to find every crick he had. He couldn't even get comfortable on it.

The oldest Peter groaned as he stretched out. He was not looking forward to the next few days this far away from home. He actually missed the background chatter of two certain little doppelgangers.

To add some background noise, Peter Two threw on the TV. "Going to be a long night."

While flipping through the available TV channels, Two's phone began to ring. He picked it up and grinned at the familiar caller ID of Peter 3. He immediately answered the video chat.

Instead of the middle Peter, One greeted him from his crossed legged position on the floor. "Hehey Twoho!"

The oldest waved back. "Hi Petey."

Suddenly, Peter 3's leg stepped into view. "Is it in frame?"

"You're gohood Pete," Two called out.

The tallest Spiderman bent to look at the oldest. "Sound coming through too?"

"Yes Three, I can hear and see you both."

Peter 3 grinned as he sat on the floor then he lifted the youngest into his lap. "How's the convention going?"

Peter 2 smiled. "Ihit's going well. Both Otto and Norman are making some great contacts and Osborne industries has some future employee prospects as well."

"Are you doing okay?" One asked.

"I'm doing okay. Just not looking forward to spending these next few nihights ihin aha hotel room."

"I know what you mean. Those hotel beds are awful," Three replied.

Two shifted. "Yep. I'd take the couch in my living room over this bed right about now."

One grinned. "Then we could give you a hug too."

Two melted as a small pang hit his chest. "I'd love that Bug."

The three Peters were quiet for a minute as they just enjoyed each other's presence.

Then One squeaked.

"What was that?" Peter 2 asked.

Three pulled his hands away. "Sorry Pete."

"What did you do?"

"Ihi accidentally squeheezed his side."

The youngest turned. "Yeheah rihight."

"Aww, you're juhust so ticklish, aharen't you Buhug?" Two teased.

Peter 1 whirled back to the phone. "Noho!"

While Peter 1's back was turned, Two saw a smirk spread across Three's face. A similar smirk spread across his own face.

Meanwhile, One's eyes widened comically.

Peter 2 shut off the TV. "You know what I miss the most about being hohome? Lihistening to all thohose giggles."

"Shuhush!"

Peter 3 wrapped his arms around his baby brother. "Wehell who says you have to be home?"

"Three!"

"Whahat did you hahave ihin mind Pete?"

"Twoho!"

Peter 3 wrapped his legs around the youngest. "Wohork that tease magic!"

Peter 1 blushed. "Noho! Noho teheases!"

"Aww, what's wrong Snuggle Bug?" Two cooed. "Do the teases mahake you nervous?"

One giggled and shook his head.

Peter 2 cooed again. "Aww, I just wish I could smother you in kisses."

"Comihing right up!" Peter 3 leaned forward to smother One's face and neck in kisses.

"Ahhhahaha! Threheheee!"

Two's grin grew even more. "Wook at how cuwte youw awre. Youw're a wittwe giggwe Buggy, yes you awre!"

One's legs kicked out. "Shuhush! Twooo!"

Peter 3 paused the tickles. "Wook Two, wittwe feetsies are poking ouwt."

"Ihi see them."

Peter 1's toes curled. "Myhy feheetsihies!"

Two adjusted his spot on the bed. "Didn't your Aunt May teach yohou toho share?"

"Noho!"

Peter 3 readjusted the youngest so he was laying on his legs leaving his feet cloose to Three. "Then Ihi guess we better teheach you how."

"Eep!"

"Hey Three?"

The tallest Peter looked up at the phone. "Yes?"

"Have you talked the pig family recently?"

Three grinned. "Can't say that I have."

"Wehe better cheheck in on them. You knohow, make sure they're awake."

"Yohou guhuys ahare mehean!"

Peter 3 cooed as he wiggled a finger under his baby brother's toes. "I know right, we're juwst the wowse."

Peter 1 broke into adorable squealy laughter that was interrupted by a snort.

"Ihi think the piggies are awake Two."

"Perfect! Are they ready for visitors?"

"You know it!" Three grabbed the youngest's big toe and wiggled.

Peter 2 chuckled. "Well then, this little piggy went to market."

"Ah! Hehey!"

The next toe was wiggled. "This little piggy stayed hohome."

"Hehe lihikes to keheep his bodyhy ahat home!"

While Peter 2 wheezed, Three's eyebrows furrowed together. "Whahat?"

"Hehes aha homebohody Threhee!" Two explained through his laughter.

"Thahat's whahat Ihi sahaid!"

"Oh!" The tallest Spiderman started laughing as well. "Fohor aha momehent I thought somethihing ehelse!"

"Nohow that wehe have that cleheared up. What's the nehext tohoe One?"

"Thehe carrots!"

"Close."

Peter 3 wiggled the next two toes as Two sang out the next part of the rhyme. "This little piggy had rohoast beheef. And thihis little piggy hahad none."

Three looked up at the phone. "Thahats the vegetarian."

"Yep. Hmm, but whahat about thehe last littlehel piggy?"

"I don't know." The tallest Peter looked down at the youngest. "What about that one Uno?"

Peter 1 disappeared behind his hands.

"Aww, doews he pway hide and seek?" Peter 2 teased.

Three lifted One's hands up. "Ohowr mahaybe peekaboo?"

The youngest giggled adorably. "Hehes hidihing frohom yohou."

"From me?" Peter 3 wrapped his hand around the little toe to keep it hidden.

"Frohom bohoth of you."

"Look under the knee Threhee! He mihight be hiding under thehere."

The middle Peter scribbled his fingers under One's knee. "Are you hehere?"

"AHH! NOHOHO!"

Three's fingers pinched One's thigh. "Or hehere?"

"Nohot theEEERE eheither!"

The middle Peter then repeated the process on the other leg. "Or maybe hehere?"

By this time, One was a red faced mess of giggles.

"Wait." Three pulled back his hand. "Peekaboo! There he is."

"Hehe was hiding under your hahand all along."

One squeaked as his little toe was wiggled.

"And what did he say?" Three asked.

"Eep!" The youngest hid his face in his hand again.

The older two Peters shared a look before turning back to their baby brother.

Peter 3 skittered his fingers across One's foot while Peter 2 replied, "He went Wee! Wee! Wee! all the way home."

Peter 1's giggles were high pitched and squeaky as he dug his opposite heel into the floor to keep the other one from moving.

"Wohow, he's almost got you beheat Three," Two teased.

"Hey!"

"Don't wohorry, yohour feet tickles are still cuter."

The tallest Peter's cheeks flamed.

Meanwhile, the youngest giggled at his brothers.

In response, Peter 3 smirked as he dug in to One's sides. "Don't worry, you're cute every where else."

"NoAHH!"

Peter 2 cooed. "Hehey, I can't sehee hihim."

"Hold on."

Peter 3 shot a web over to the phone and pulled it to him. After some adjusting, Peter 2 could finally look down at his baby brother. However, Peter 1 had his hands up to hide his face.

"Here he is." Peter 3 added in some pinches to One's ribs. "In all his cuteness."

"NAHAHA!"

"Oh noho, is the baby hiding?" Two cooed.

Three continued moving up One's ribs. "I think he ihis."

"NOO! NOHO BABY!"

The oldest Peter cooed again. "He triehies so hard to denyhy his cuteness."

Three's fingers stilled. "If we dropped him off at a daycare, do you think anyone wohould notihice?"

The youngest's foot kicked out at Three. "Shuuush!"

"Ihit'd be hard to tell thehe difference, " the oldest teased again.

After a whine from Peter 1, Three wiggled his fingers into the youngest's armpit. One's arms immediately shot down and ultimately revealed his face.

"Peekaboo! There you are!" The tallest Peter cooed.

"Awww, I wanna squish you!" Two replied.

"I know! He's just so precious!"

By this point, the youngest's face, neck, and ears were completely red. "Yohou twoho ahare meheanihies!"

"Oho, we're meanies?" Peter 3 scribbled into the youngest's tummy. "So I shouldn't tell Peter 2 how you've been moody to me all day?"

Peter 2 gasped. "One! How could you?"

"Hehe deheserved ihit! Eehehe!"

"First you refuse to shahare, then you hide your toesies and face from us, now I hear you're being mean to your brother?" The oldest Peter playfully shook his head. "Tsk! Whahat has gotten into yohou Petey?"

One stuck his tongue out at the two.

In response, Peter 3 held a hand to his chest. "Wow! You turn seventeen and you think you cahan behe sassy whenever you feel like it."

"Sounds like someone needs to be taught a lesson," the oldest added.

Both brothers wore matching grins as they looked down at the youngest.

"D-do yohour worst!"

Three glanced over at Peter 2. "I might need to set you down for a second."

"Understohood."

Two watched as Three propped the phone against the couch. A moment later, the middle Peter's head disappeared underneath One's shirt. Loud raspberry noises and squeals filled his tiny hotel room with warmth and made him picture he was actually at home.

He really loved these two.

"AHH!" One snorted. "OKAHAY! OKAAAHAY!"

Peter 3's head popped back out. "Ahare you done beheing sahassy?"

The youngest nodded. "Yeeeehes. Ihi pro *hic*!"

"Awww! Tickle hiccups!" The oldest exclaimed.

Three cooed. "How did you get soho cuhute huh? Youw're juwst absolutely pwecious!"

"Noh *hic*!"

Peter 2 chuckled. "Hahave you nohoticed thehe more you tease him thehe mohore he hiccups?"

"Really?"

"Noho!"

Two grinned. "What's wong Bambino?"

"Nohot a Bahambi *hic*!"

Quickly, Three pulled the phone so Two could look down at the youngest.

"Awww, wook at that wittwe face. It's sow squishy and cuwte!"

"He *hic* hehey! It's nohot squ *hic* ihishy!"

The oldest Peter pinched his fingers in front of the camera. "Whose a pweciows wittwe baby? Who needs awl the cuwdwes?"

"*hic* Shuhu *hic* *hic*!"

From behind the oldest came Three's voice. "Whowse gonna get smowthewed in wove hm? Is it wucky numewro Uno?"

By this point, the youngest's hiccups were breaking off every sentence he tried to form while his face burned a dark red color.

The oldest Peter laughed in delight as he clicked the buttons on his phone. "Awwahaw, screheen shot."

The youngest whined. "Yohoure *hic* soho mehe *hic* ahan toho me *hic*!"

"Thihink wehe've flustered him enohough Threhee?"

"Ihi think soho."

Peter 1 flopped an arm over his eyes. "Ihim dehead."

"Oho noho!" Two exclaimed.

"Ihi think this One ihis ready fohor bed," Three whispered.

"I think so too."

"Mmmno beeed."

Three's hand came into view as he squeezed One's other arm. "Shh, beddy bye time Bug."

"We can see your little eyes drifting close from here," Two added.

The older two waited.

No retort came from Peter 1.

Peter 3 bounced his legs. "Peter?"

One didn't even move.

A quick lift of the arm revealed the youngest had drifted off already.

The oldest Peter melted at the sight. "Thank you for this Three. I needed this."

A moment later, Three's face popped into view. "Would you believe me if I said One did too?"

"What?"

"Well, we both did. But like I said earlier, Uno's been a bit moody. I think he was just missing you so when he asked about a video call, I immediately agreed."

Another pang of homesickness hit the oldest Peter. "I miss you guys."

"We miss you too."

"I wish I was home."

"You'll be home in two days."

"I know. But two days is a long ways away. It's hard being so far."

A comfortable silence fell between the duo.

It was quickly interrupted by a sleepy hiccup from the youngest.

Peter 2 melted. "I love you guys."

"We love you too bro. Go do your amazing things and we'll see ya in two days." Three winked at the camera. "We're already planning your welcome home."

Two's face flushed bright red. "Hey nohow."

"Aww, are you excited?"

The oldest playfully glared at his brother. "To get yohou back afterwards."

Now it was Three's turn to blush and whine. "Noooo."

The oldest Peter laughed. "Ahalright, Ihi should lehet you go ahand get some sleheep."

"Yeheah, I gotta work tomorrow." The tallest Peter stretched and popped his back.

"Go get some sleep. I'll call you two tomorrow night with updates."

"Alright, night bro. We'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Night Three. See you."

The call ended and Two's hotel room fell quiet once again. However, it didn't seem so cold and unfamiliar as it did before. The bed felt less lumpy and it actually felt a little more like home. The oldest Peter held the phone close to him as he curled on to his side and drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

Two days would be here and gone before he knew it.