#Honestly how can you even not consider it
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Dinner & Diatribes: Analogous
Shin Yuna x Im Nayeon x M reader
Word count: 14k+
“A younger girl… And I’m talking much younger. Eight years younger than me I think.”
Normally, it feels like you’re worlds apart from Nayeon in her bed. You’re just her toy, her plaything, her doll.
Tonight though: it feels like she’s in the same world as you. She feels here — emotionally and physically present as her nails trace circles on your bare chest. Maybe it’s a trick of the light, or maybe even classic manipulation, but she feels like more than just someone who you fuck on the weekends.
“And you won’t be jealous?” you ask, indulging yourself and playing with her hair a little. She scoffs.
“You talk like we’re dating.” She shifts so that she has a cheek on your shoulder. A relationship with her wouldn’t really fly: she’s not gonna let you take care of her when she loves control more than anything. Still, it’s nice to dream about holding her hand sometimes. “I have no reason to be jealous, so why would I be?”
(It’s a question you’re asking yourself too honestly.)
“Dunno,” you muse, admittedly a little disheartened, “maybe it’s cause you’re kinda freaky… Just a thought.”
She smirks. “Trust me. A younger girl in this thing we’ve got going on isn’t gonna affect anything.” She starts tapping her nails against your chest. “Besides… You know you’re mine.”
Oh…
(Not sure how to feel about that last part.)
***
Last you checked: you weren’t expecting a guest today.
“Uh,” you can’t help but mutter past her lips as you stagger back into your own apartment. She lifts her lips off yours out of consideration, and she takes a few moments to soak in the look of mixed emotions that has made its way onto your face. You don’t mean to be rude when you point at the other girl and ask, “do you wanna perhaps wanna, you know, fill me in on what’s going on here?”
Im Nayeon turns, looks over her shoulder, smiles. She turns back, cups your cheek with her hand.
“Thought I’d bring some company tonight, just to spice things up.” Nayeon tells you, turning your head in a way that lets you get a good look at the younger girl standing at the door to your apartment. “Hope you don’t mind.” With her other hand, she makes a come hither motion, and tells the girl to close the door on her way in. The girl does as she’s told, and when she’s next to the both of you, Nayeon takes her by the hand and pulls her closer.
“Introduce yourself sweetie,” Nayeon instructs—firm yet almost saccharine. Nayeon lets her thumb rub over the girl’s knuckles, a deceivingly sweet smile playing on her lips. “Tell him what we’ve rehearsed. Go on.”
She’s an eye-catcher for sure—the other girl, not Nayeon. Not that Nayeon isn’t already turning heads when she walks just about anywhere, but more that the other girl is just a rather far cry from what you're comfortable with. You’re so used to Nayeon’s gentle, piercing eyes that can probably break you with a look from her; those small, plump lips of hers that kiss you with precision and passion; those bunny cheeks that you love pinching so damn much that it probably should be considered an addiction. But this girl brings something new to the table, and you have to admit that it’s refreshing.
Smoky, kinda innocent eyes that have a whole foot in the territory of doleful and another foot in the realm of entrancing; luscious long black hair; a face that could make just about anyone melt. Nayeon’s guest is certainly a few years younger than her, and certainly less lecherous than her senior at first glance. You don’t really know where or how Nayeon could pick up a girl that looks as sweet as this, and you certainly want to find out how a girl that looks like the textbook definition of ‘smoking hot’ could ever end up in a place like this. She’s clearly nervous, but you give her credit for being able to stand perfectly still with Nayeon’s hand starting to roam up her arm.
“I’m Yuna… But you can call me whatever you want.”
The sentence has Nayeon’s fingerprints all over it, and you can assume with full certainty that she’s had this idea stewing in her head for at least a week or two. The smug grin on Nayeon’s face tells you that things are going according to plan, and her fingers latch themselves around Yuna’s forearm.
“She’s a fun one to play with.” Now she’s directed her attention to you, looking right at you as she pulls the younger woman even close to the both of you: till you can literally feel Yuna’s breath in your ear. “A young little slut to spice things up.”
Nayeon takes her attention away from you, and with gentle hands on Yuna’s cheeks, she pulls the younger girl in for a kiss. It’s simple—no tongue or anything—but it’s enough to make the younger girl squirm a little where she stands. Nayeon’s clearly taking pleasure in this. Even with her lips locked with a girl younger than her, you can clearly see the whisper of a cheeky smile playing on the corners of her lips. You wonder if she’s gonna get more joy out of this than you at the end of the day.
The younger girl is released from the fierce lip-lock. She looks dazed, like she just took a hit of a blunt. Nayeon admires her craftsmanship for a moment, taking in the look on the poor girl’s face as she chuckles softly to herself, “oh my… Someone wasn’t quite ready, was she?”
Yuna’s at a clear loss for words. She tries to speak; her words fail her. You can’t exactly blame her though. Nayeon just kinda chooses when and where to be a bit of a minx, and you just have to roll with it. It’s fun, kinda hot; but not when you’re in a horrible place to get it and she decides that she just wants to blow you at some restaurant that you’re at. It’s a bit of a handful really, and you don’t quite know what to do with her sometimes. Wonder how Yuna fares?
“It’s okay,” Nayeon assures her, “you’re in good company now, though you're free to just watch if you’re still shy.”
The younger girl looks at her senior, then at you, then back to her senior. “I think I’d like to join in on this.”
Nayeon beams, her smile almost sweet if it isn’t for the fact that she’s quite literally happy to see a younger girl get it on with you and her. “That’s the spirit.”
And it’s confusing really: figuring out which of them is gonna make the first move. Yuna’s energy gives her an air of uncertainty, but you can sense some mischief within her that resonates at the same frequency of Nayeon’s. Yet there’s something a little different about her that you can’t quite place your finger on. Her youth is a breath of fresh air; there’s that young energy in her smile towards Nayeon that tells you that she’s eager but somewhat cautious. You would call her a mirror of Nayeon as they start discussing how she wants it, but you pick up on a bit of pickiness in her voice that strays from Nayeon’s attitude. The older girl before you will take it however she likes, fuck herself on your cock till she cums and kinda leave you high and dry. Yuna on the other hand has some grungy ideas of where she wants you to cum and how she wants it to happen.
Okay, let’s return to home base and consolidate: they're similar but different; kinda conflicting yet go together like dinner and diatribes on a family reunion. There’s reason to believe that they are somewhat two sides of the same coin, yet simple observation contradicts the notion. Bottom line – it’s confusing.
“You know what?” Nayeon has a finger twirled in Yuna’s hair as she casts a glance at you. “How about we get you naked first… Then we figure out what we can do?”
Yuna seems to enjoy the proposal. The two women look at you, and Nayeon gestures with her head to come closer. As your feet land on the wood floor, Nayeon goes at a slower pace of walking as she rounds Yuna and stands behind her. She’s shorter than her by a considerable amount, but it doesn’t make her any less imposing as she pokes her head out from Yuna’s right side.
“Go on. Unwrap her,” Nayeon whispers, running a hand up Yuna’s stomach. “Let’s see what she has in store for us…”
And Yuna is more than glad to lift her arms up for you as you pull her sweater off her body. The girl has an amazing body – you’d give her that. Slim waist, wide hips, hourglass figures so defined that the sands of time would be jealous. A body to die for really, and the appeal only increases as she reaches behind her back and unclips her bra. Nayeon smiles as she tosses her article of clothing aside.
“Tight and forthcoming?” The older woman muses. “Looks like we have quite the toy on our hands.”
Yuna’s gaze is almost searing as you step up to her. Her breathing is kinda unsteady, but you can’t exactly blame her. She’s half naked in front of two older people, with one of them running her hands along her smooth skin while the other cock their head and examine her from head to toe. If you were in her shoes, your blood would be racing and boiling fast.
“Do what you want with me,” she whispers. She reaches forward and grasps your crotch through your pants. “I’m yours to take.”
You raise your eyebrows. “Did Nayeon teach you that?”
“Nope.” Speak of the devil and she doth answer on the younger woman’s behalf. “I only told her how to introduce herself, didn’t tell her what to say after,” Nayeon explains, a glint in her eye as she stares up at Yuna’s face. “Is it kinda fucked up if I wanna see her suck your dick?”
Yuna glances at her senior, then returns her gaze to you. “A little… But we can make it happen.”
Another point of difference – 2 actually: she doesn’t play around with her words and she’s pretty proactive. You like that.
It’s a mess as you fumble with clothes, but it doesn’t take long for you guys to rid Yuna of the rest of her clothing and have her on her knees in the living room carpet. Her hands are delicate as she pulls down on the waistband of your boxers and frees your cock, and their even more so when she grips your throbbing shaft with both hands. On the chair that Nayeon pushed you onto, you watch her eyes as they survey what she’s working with.
“Wow…” she mutters, looking over to the right where Nayeon’s lounging on the sofa. “You had this all to yourself?”
Nayeon’s lips slant at an angle. “I know right? Better than any dildo you can find on the market.”
Yuna takes a moment to really look at the cock in her hands, eyes full of lustful wonder as she takes it in from all angles. She lets her mouth hang open for a little as she processes what she’s seeing, then she asks, “how does she even walk the next morning? I mean… This thing is girthy as fuck. Would probably split me open if I’m not careful.”
“It won’t,” Nayeon answers rather spontaneously, tapping her finger against a cushion as she watches Yuna pump your shaft with her lanky fingers. “It’ll fill you just right,” she leans against the handrest of the couch, watching intently as you push away some hair from Yuna’s face, “though I think it’ll look the best in your mouth.”
Yuna gets the gist. Her cheek presses itself against the inside of your thigh as she lifts your shaft and kisses it at the base, and she works her way up to the tip while one hand keeps your twitching cock steady. She gets to your head, and her lips take the sensitive part of you about halfway in, making sure you're looking (and you mean, like, really looking) as she lets her tongue lick the precum off from your leaking tip. Once she’s certain that she has your fullest attention, her jaw slacks and her shoulders rise; she takes a breath, closes her eyes.
There’s the hiss of an inhale — from you — as your head tilts back against the backrest while your cock enters the warm wet tavern of her mouth. She’s almost methodical in the way she takes you in, stopping halfway to adjust the angle of her head so that she can push forwards and down and drive the rest of your meat into your mouth. Her hands steady her, resting against your thighs as she tears a little. She’s a little more patient than her senior, waiting for a bit before she starts moving at a steady pace. Spit’s starting to drip down to her chin – will probably ruin the carpet if you cared enough (and you don’t). Nayeon’s been meaning to change this damn thing anyway. It’s seen too many juices and some dog piss in it from when her pomeranian was over those few times.
“Jesus,” is all you can hiss, through closed teeth of course. The young girl is nothing short of heavenly; she’s almost perfect at taking your dick as she starts to bob her head. The gurgling is kinda loud; spit flows like a stream down your shaft, only to be collected by that fastidious mouth as it traces a path – up and down and up and down. You wonder if there’s some make-up to be ruined.
“Won’t you look at that?” And you don’t even need to look over at the couch to know that Nayeon’s playing with herself. The squelching tells you lots, but the way her speech is kinda breathy tells you more than you need to know. She’s probably really turned by the sight of a younger woman taking cock into her mouth, riled up at the sight of tears flowing down her youthful cheeks. It’s borderline voyeuristic, pretty fucking freaky but also kinda hot. That’s her whole brand anyway. “She’s fucking taking your dick. My god…”
Yuna gurgles on your dick – probably some reply she’s trying to give but fails to because she has dick in her mouth. The suckle of her lips; the slide of her tongue against the base of your shaft; her throat kinda convulsing as she struggles and struggles – you don’t know if it’s all gonna be a bit too much, but now you’re really focusing on not trying to hurt her while your hands grab a handful of her hair in a fist. You’re assisting—or maybe forcing… Low-key goes both ways when there’s a very, very fine line between the two in this context—her, pulling her into your crotch and pushing her off just to pull her in again. It’s a vicious cycle – kinda doubling on the meaning while also butchering it: harsh and repetitive but there’s not a fucking instance where this produces a detrimental result.
She comes up for air, your shaft pretty much dripping with spit as she takes a moment to gather herself. The gasping is hot, and so is the way she wipes her spit towards her mouth with the back of her hand. “God this is… Fuck...” she mutters, licking her lips while her fist is in constant fluid motion. Bruce Lee would be proud: she is like water.
“Keep it up darling,” the motions of Nayeon’s wrist have gotten quite sharp, sudden and lacking interval. Okay, maybe not sudden, but more… Desperate. It’s not like she isn’t gonna get her fair share of cock or anything, but she hasn’t been over for a while. There’s only so much that a vibrator and her fingers can do; she kinda needs to see it and revel in it for her to actually get off properly. You don’t know if watching a young girl take dick into her mouth is softening the blow dealt to her senses, but you kinda know that it’s still doing a number on her because she’s completely hiked up the hem of her dress to fuck herself with her fingers. There’s not much thought behind her actions, but she’s definitely letting herself go a little wild for the night. She is being indulged after all.
“Am I doing good?” Yuna inquires, and it’s a question directed to both of you really. You give her a nod; Nayeon’s answer is verbal: Keep that up and you’re gonna make two people cum in the next five minutes. The young girl is pleased. She lets her tongue swirl around your tip, lick the cock before her from base to tip and sneak in some scissoring flicks of her tongue. Your hand finds itself on her cheek, thumb massaging the bone just above the flesh as she giggles and tosses her hair.
“You’re a doll,” you tell her. She smiles.
“That’s one of the many names I’ve been called,” she replies, letting your spit-covered head rub against her cheek. “Though I like the name cumslut the most.”
Oh.
Your grip on her cheek becomes more firm. “Okay then,” and your pushing her to the left so that her lips are in line with your head. “Open wide you fucking cumslut.”
The enthrallment in her eyes is apparent. Obedient, subservient, forthcoming, whatever; she parts her lips and lets her tongue hang out. Her eyelids flutter shut. You pull her forward. Nayeon cusses.
You're unbelievably hard in her mouth, and your member is ever so sensitive to every movement inside those cheeks of hers. The softness of her tongue, slickness of her drool, warmth of her cheeks… Too much to focus on with so little space for appreciation. You settle on fixating on the suction, the sweet vacuum her lips form around your length as she quite literally lets her mouth get used. Two hands around her head – pulling, pushing, pulling, pushing. A hot rhythm, not quite a dance but kinda cyclical like a routine. More perverse than any street jazz choreo you’ve seen though.
“Yuna,” you mutter, “ you’re so – fuck I – ugh… Your mouth.”
Somewhere in her throat, there’s space for a hum. Her hands are behind her back, locked in place by her own accord as she lets you fuck her mouth with no qualms. It’s smooth, almost natural till she gags a little on your dick and has to blink a bit. Slip n’ slide; front and back – she just takes your cock like an obedient little slut. It’s amazing, kinda dark, but still amazing nonetheless. The gurgling and the sound that comes from her throat that’s almost like swallowing; your fingers grasping the silky strands of her hair; eyes meeting hers. Fuck.
You're desperate for a taste of heaven. You pull her down harder, faster.
She gags, chokes, sucks a little harder.
“Fuck this,” Nayeon hisses. “I’m joining in.”
And she straddles you before you can even blink, kissing you fiercely like she’s gonna die the next day and this is the last time she’s seeing you. Somewhere along the way, she’d shed her clothes. Now she’s nude and kissing you, jabbing her tongue into your mouth and exploring the feel of your teeth. Your cheeks are hers to hold, your mouth hers to own.
She breaks the torrid kiss, “Yuna,” she drawls, playing with your hair as she speaks to the girl while looking at you. “Don’t ruin him too much. Leave some fun for me.”
The vibrations sent down your shaft make you tingle from head to toe – a product of Yuna’s attempted reply. You can’t see her anymore, but you can continue to just flow with the movements of pulling and pushing against her hair as Nayeon dives between her legs to get back to work. The older woman lets a sigh escape from her lips, pushing her fingers a little deeper. You can feel the heat against your crotch. Her hands move a little faster.
“Do you have any idea,” she whispers, her voice kind of striking that middle frequency between the gurgling and the squelching. “How fucking pent up I was in that damn dorm?”
Through your teeth, you reply. “No,” and you kinda twitch a little in Yuna’s mouth. “Do tell.”
She leans in, moans into your ear for good measure. “I was dripping every other day,” she reports, a lilt in her voice as she continues her work between her thighs. “Didn’t help that Momo was bringing a guy over and I could hear them fucking through the walls… My vibrator almost died that week.”
“Well…” you shudder as you speak, a familiar tingle building up from the base of your shaft. "You’ll have to wait your fucking turn.”
She smiles, quite sadistically you might add.
“That’s alright,” she tells you. Her forehead pressed against yours. “Just leave a load for me.”
And you have to hit her with an honest reply. “I’ll always have a load for you.”
“That’s what I thought.” She straightens her back and looks down at you. “I own this dick,” she announces to her audience of two. “Now cum in her mouth. I’m gonna get her to fucking swallow your load.” The orders are barked, not said. “I wanna watch.”
And she turns her toned back to you, leaving you with the view of the delicious curve of her back as she arches it while slicking her fingers with her own juices. You’re trying to hold on, desperately, but there’s only so much you can do when the mouth around you and the two women before you are this hot.
You don’t get to see it when it happens, but you can hear it and kinda imagine it when you cum right into Yuna’s mouth. You bet it’s kinda messy, but you’ll never know. Nayeon’s ass blocks the view – a trade off: view for a view. You hear the older woman hiss her commands—“Swallow. Fucking swallow you filthy little whore”—envison the sight of the young woman struggling to down your load as it pumps ito her wet hot mouth. A groan spills from your lips; a long-drawn sigh filters from Nayeon’s chest; Yuna gulps as she takes it all.
Your dick pops out of her mouth, all messy and slick with juices. Nayeon grabs it, pumps it, and without warning – shoves it into her cunt.
And all at once it becomes too much: your over stimulated member twitches wildly in the grasps of her slick, hot walls as it begs for a break. The pleasure is horribly abundant, so much that it almost hurts. There’s no time to process the tight heat around you, voice your need for a break. Nayeon starts bouncing on her knees.
“Oh fuck yes.” Her hands shoot behind her, the left one failing to catch the handrest the first timebut gripping it tightly on the second attempt. Her knuckles go white. “I needed this. I needed to be filled by this fucking cock of yours.”
It’s too much; another load surges forth almost instantly. The hot semen paints her walls, shoots up from your already over-sensitive head and flows down her cunt. It leaks out; the squelching gets louder. Yuna’s tongue laps up the mix of juices that flow. Nayeon continues to ride.
Your fingers dig into the flesh of her waist, desperate to assist you in grounding yourself in this seemingly unreal reality. There’s a lack of words that can really describe your predicament, and if you’re to actually bring it across in a coherent sentence, it’ll probably something along the lines of “fuck” repeated at least a million times. You’re stuck in the chain of entry and exits of her pussy, a bundle of nerves beneath Im Nayeon while she mercilessly fucks herself on your cock. Right now: your dick is nothing but a mere toy for her to get off on, and she made that very clear from the moment she started throwing herself down onto your dick.
“Nayeon…” you heave. It’s an effort to even breathe.
“Shut it,” she hisses, not even casting a glance behind her. “I’m cumming on this cock one way or another and I don’t care how many fucking loads you give me.”
Yuna crawls around to the side of the chair. You hazard a glance at the young girl. She’s messy, sweaty and has residues of cum and drool at some areas around her mouth. She reaches out into the chair and takes you by the hand, squeezing it tightly in hers as if she knows that you’re fucking fading by the second. Every slam of Nayeon’s crotch against you is a mix of pleasure and pain, her moans almost like animalistic grunts.
“Fuck… You’re really filling her,” Yuna muses, watching the older girl take her liberties with your dick. “She must be so fucking tight right now.”
You swallow. “Yeah… It’s… Fuck…”
Yuna chuckles. Watching you struggle must kinda humour a little. She gives your hand a squeeze, encouraging you to hold on to what grasp of this world you have left. Her eyes sparkle, almost envious as she sees her senior bouncing on the dick she was taking into her mouth just a few moments ago. Her other hands snakes between her legs, flits circles of respite. Two girls getting off before you, similar but different.
Go ahead. Call this shit Tuesday.
***
“Be nice to her when I’m gone.”
You aren’t sure why Nayeon would need such a huge suitcase for a 10 day trip with her family. There’s no doubt in your mind that there’s probably tonnes of products in there that she wants to bring along for the fuck of it, but the damned thing looks like it was harbouring a small child. Not that Nayeon would ever do that, but it does help to paint a clearer picture of the sheer scale of her luggage. The airport X-ray is about to have a field day with this.
“Of course.” You’re kinda obvious about your ogling from the doorway as Nayeon does her hair with nothing but her leggings on. Yuna is still fast asleep in the room that you’d prepared for her, but you still kept your volume down just to play it safe.
Nayeon smirks at you through the mirror. “I’m sure she’ll feel right at home with you.”
“Is that sarcasm I’m hearing?”
“Take it however you like. My eyes are up here by the way.”
You chuckle and walk up behind her. “Guilty as charged mademoiselle,” you apologise, though you're not all that ashamed of th fact that she’s caught you in th act of fucking her with your eyes.
Nayeon hits you with a scoff, a rather aloof one that screams ‘got you. Thought you were slick huh?’ even though it was within your fullest intentions for her to catch you looking. She had to be fair to you in this situation — kinda hard to look at anything else. Or maybe you’re misjudging her, maybe she knows full well that you were (and still are) catching a good look at those firm, perky mounds that sit proudly atop her chest. They fit perfectly in your hands, quite like a glove—OJ Simpson would hate that it fits that well—and a nicely-fitted set of bed sheets. What the fuck does that even mean? Frankly, you can’t quite put an explanation to it yourself; you’re kinda listing things that sound and feel right to you — things that give something enjoyable that little kick it needs to become something more congenial.
(That sort of encapsulates her whole personality honestly. She’s already something to relish, cherish; the type of girl that makes other guys say ‘she’s a keeper’ even though they don’t have the slightest idea of what she really was like beyond cameras and public appearances. Kinda horny all the time, but also wants to cuddle you to sleep and call you all sorts of pet names after you’ve blindfolded and fucked her against three different flat surfaces – maybe breaking some expensive furniture in the process. Dominant, a little stubborn and a little pissy. Need you say more?)
“But for real: make her feel at home,” she says, setting down the curling iron and switching it off. She leaves it to cool down, puts on a sweater while she waits. “Poor girl’s been through enough. I promised her a safe haven, so try to make it one.”
The context behind her request is a little baffling. Just this morning Nayeon told you of Yuna’s falling out with an alleged highschool sweetheart, and she's taking shelter with you guys till legal matters are dealt with and she’s safe and sound. Guy started stalking her apparently, threatened her once or twice too. Fun times we live in.
Helping her hook the clasp of her necklace, you assure Nayeon that only your best effort would go into creating a safe space for her younger companion. Not to brag, but you’re pretty good at making friends—trust me. We’ll be tight before you even know it—with strangers. It’ll be like walking the dog; easy peasy. You get the idea right? Kinda running out of sayings. Nayeon seems pretty pleased with your promises.
“If you guys have fun, do send some videos,” she tells you, opening her drawer to pull out a pair of jeans. “I’ll be missing out on a lot if you don’t. That girl has a body even I wanna ravage.”
“So cock is not enough, huh?” you tease. She flicks her eyes to the mirror.
“Who said it wasn’t enough?” She cocks her head and makes eye contact through the mirror. “I literally ride you till you’re sore. Yuna’s just… an add-on. Like a side dish if you will.”
You chortle. “And I’m the main course?”
“Nope,” she giggles, unfolding her jeans. “That would be me.”
“That doesn’t even make sense.”
“If you want an admission of my wrongs, you’ll have to fuck it out of me.”
And she meets your eyes in the mirror. You smile, knowing that she’ll probably let you get away with this one.
“It’s really a shame…” you sigh. “These leggings were, like, really nice.”
***
Couple minutes later you’re giving her a kiss on the cheek as she hurries for the taxi that arrived five minutes ago. In the midst of the commotion, Yuna emerges from her room dressed in one of your shirts – just in time to wave goodbye to her senior before Nayeon slips away. You're not too sure if she’s fully registered the fact that she’ll be stuck with you for a full week, but hopefully once the realisation sets in, you’d already have made her comfortable.
You turn. The way you meet her gaze is kinda awkward. She has a look of intrigue on her face as she rubs her arms and gazes back at you with those doleful eyes.
You clear your throat. “You uh… You like omelettes?”
***
On your phone screen, Nayeon just kinda stares back at you with a hundred-yard-stare type of look. Hotel wifi has her video freezing at a rate that would make Elsa proud, and she’s barely a human through all the pixelated fuck-what that clouds in front of her.
“I feel like we're focusing on vastly different things here, Nayeon.” You’re hoping that she can hear your voice over the roaring silence of shitty network bandwidth. “Not even a day too… I’m pretty sure the poor girl’s scared shitless of me.”
And while Nayeon’s video and audio buffer, it’s a good time to remind yourself of your mistake. Not that you forgot it or anything, but you just gotta make sure that everything that you tell Nayeon is accurate.
So it turned out that Yuna and breakables don’t really go well together. Nayeon seems to have forgotten to ask you to read some fine-prints, and you basically went in raw when you witnessed the young girl’s clumsiness. Quite the butter-fingers: she broke a mug and a plate in one slip of her tray from her hands. The sound of shattering porcelain jarred her, and as she attempted to move out of her mess, the Dad in you spurred you to cry out in panic. Don’t move! you practically roar. Poor thing flinched like she’s being held at gun-point, started shivering a little as you rushed over to clear up the shards. You don’t quite know how to comfort her, and so you just tell her to just eat in her room if she’s uncomfortable. She took you up on that, and that ended the first non-sexual interaction you had with her.
Way to go… You deserve a star.
By the time you’re done pacing the room and have thrown yourself onto the bed, Nayeon reconnects back to the call. She’s in a bathroom, wearing airpods and sitting in what looks like a bathtub. From the fact that she's wearing a robe, you’ll bet good money on the really (and you can’t stress this enough) high chance that she’s wearing nothing else beneath that.
“Five star hotel and I get two bars of wifi everywhere except the damn toilet,” she huffs. Guess you were right about what the two of you were focusing on. No prizes for being right though; life’s a bitch. “Anyway, don’t think too much about it. She’s clumsy but she’s not unaware. I’m sure she’ll understand where you’re coming from.”
“Honestly”—you slide under the covers and heave a huge sigh—“I think I might find my thirteenth reason if she hates me tomorrow.”
Nayeon rolls her eyes. Yes: she’s painfully aware that you certainly won’t kill yourself over the fact that you may or may not have made a girl re-live her trauma, but the knowledge of that doesn’t stop her from expressing her disdain towards your little joke.
“Sleep on it. You’ll be fine tomorrow,” she assures you, now in full resolution and crystal clear audio and image. She segways into something else, “By the way, check out the link I’m sending you.”
Toilet wifi is truly doing her wonders cause you get the link in question right after she says it. And you aren’t sporting a fedora when you confidently identify the source as a Reddit thread, but it feels like you should be heading online to buy one and get it delivered via next-day delivery. (Ugh… You can feel the word m’lady threatening to burst forth from your mouth already.) Yuck.
Clicking on the link brings you to a community you’re no stranger to. You’ve heard of it once or twice, but never really had the time or energy to delve into the posts. Nayeon seems to have done some homework though — you’re taken to a very specific post, a clip that kinda blew up when it debuted.
It takes no Oppenheimer to draw the conclusion that the post addresses Nayeon herself, and she’s clad in that all black bodysuit from that one Talk That Talk performance that hugs her figure and really makes all the curves on her body pop. You’d know: you fucked her in this outfit; railed her on the bed from the back with a pair of fuzzy pink handcuffs on her wrists if you want specifics. And if you want even more details: she didn’t let you cum till she’d came 3 times. Fun.
It’s a stunning outfit, and the appeal of the wonders it does to Nayeon’s body is only emphasised by how she runs her hands up from her hips, tracing the hourglass shape of her figure before she flips her hair. A pretty good Gif. Seems to have all 1410 commenters on their knees.
Now mind you: you’re on speaker phone with her right now. With that in mind, it sure as hell feels like Nayeon’s in the room with you as low sighs and salacious squelching starts filtering through Nayeon’s microphone and into your ears. A quick glance at the call window (that’s so helpfully converted to a small rectangle at the top right-hand corner of your phone) confirms 2 things while surprising you with a third find:
1) She’s very much naked under that robe. A bit of a no-brainer
2) She’s playing with herself – legs wide open and one of them (you can’t be arsed to really say which one) propped up on the rim of the bathtub as juice-slicked fingers work themselves between flushed folds.
3) The whole reason you can see the stuff in 2) is attributed to the fact that she's somehow leaned her phone against something in that bathtub to give you an almost artistic view of her. Emphasis on ‘almost’ because the close-up of her pretty, pink pussy is foreground to an even more sordid display of her half-lidded eyes and parted lips — baseness personified really.
Yuna becomes a secondary thought. “So… Has anyone told you that you’re kind of freaky?”
“Hey. I’m just a girl,” she muses, the look on her face a strong contender for the symbol of pure depravity. “Read the comments would you?”
“Twitter’s a much better place for this if—”
“Just stop being a smartass and read the fucking horny comments.”
You’re not intimidated by the aggression behind her voice for once, and it’s probably because she isn’t here to edge you if you don’t shut up. You take a moment to admire just how good she looks in this seemingly sempiternal display of what looks like lust itself, the Gif looping at least 3 times while you’re at it (and it’s like, the best 14 seconds of your life). The sun hits her at just the right, illuminating the best parts of her while shadows further define the shape of her curves – bringing forth the swell of her hips while making her tits and ass look bigger by a rather generous amount. Frankly, she looks good in just about anything really. Clothes on or off; hair tied up or let down; lingerie or fancy dress; lace or solid, she is the embodiment of sex.
“Hurry the fuck up,” she hisses, and it’s dripping with lethal lust and desire like venom from serpent fangs. Okay… There’s some mutual interest here with you and Nayeon. You’ll oblige.
“How nasty are we getting?” you inquire, all while you work the waistband of your pants down past your crotch so that your cock can spring free. You enlarge the window of the call, silently hypnotising yourself with the sight of Im Nayeon’s hand busying itself between her legs. “Are we going from the tame ones and progressing or…”
The look on her face tells you that she doesn’t give a shit; and she’s about this close to ending this filthy call and getting off on her own. Better conscience guides you to pick a random comment from the middle and get going with it.
“This one’s a thought provoker,” you preempt, scanning through the rather raunchy statement left behind by some undoubtedly turned-on user. “It says, ‘I wonder what she tells her stylist when she has to wear such outfits. It's like she must be really asking: I want something that will reveal my whole curvy figure. Nayeon is really the best girl’.”
“Mnph…” — she tilts her head back and lets out a gasp – an implosive suction of air that’s sharp yet so pleasing to your ears. “Curvy and… What was that again?”
“Best girl,” you reiterate, watching with a half-parted mouth as your hand matches the pace of Nayeeon’s fingers pumping in and out of the wet mess on the screen, “looks like someone’s got an eye for details.”
“They’d better. I think I looked fucking hot in that thing.”
You could second that opinion, though it was probably in your best interest to keep reading. This is basically your equivalent of putting fries into bags. You’re kinda okay with it, but you’re struggling to read this next one because of its horrible grammar, “her pussy must feel like heaven. With a tight body like that, she must know how she’s draining balls around the world.”
In the bathtub, she twitches. Her ring and middle finger are drenched when they’re removed from her pussy, but they don’t rest and find solid ground on her clit. They rub circles into Nayeon’s swollen nub, no doubt applying just the right amount of pressure onto the area while Nayeon is breathing all shaky and sounds like she’s been winded. In your books: this is basically her doing a backflip over the fine line between freaky and kinky, and basically exposing you to some new kink that she’s probably picked up from Sana. If any of these commenters ever really had a sliver of an idea of what she’s really like behind the scenes, you doubt that the comments would be as merciful as this. Anyway, next.
“I bet she likes it raw. She probably loves being a good little fucktoy who takes unprotected dicks into that tight pussy and letting load after load fill her. I mean” —Nayeon starts to shudder a little, quaking and sighing as you get to the more explicit section of his comment—“she’d probably like it if I just ripped that dress off her body and spread her legs. She’ll moan like a slut when I put it in her and just start doing her raw. Imagine the way her tits will bounce. Fucking slut, she was made to be bred.”
She lets out this moan – inexplicable and undescribable. She urges you to keep going. You do just that.
“I want her mouth so bad. Bunny has those dick sucking lips that are made for cock, probably gives mad head and is so fucking sloppy with it. I bet she’ll let the drool drip from the corners of her mouth while she takes me in all the way, and she’ll probably thank me with her eyes when I grab her by the hair and start fucking her throat. I’m gonna destroy that pretty little face so bad, leave her so fucking messy and ruined that she’ll have to stop singing for at least a week. When I cum, I’m gonna make sure it goes down her throat and get some on that slutty face. She’s earned it.”
You’re watching her, pumping your fist around your cock while she lets her jaw slack and lets her moans sort of tumble from her mouth in batches. “More,” she pleads, fingers trembling as she lets her free hand slip beneath her robe and start giving attention to her tits. You’d kinda kill to see them now, but this view will have to do. “Read more. I want to hear it.”
“They're getting nastier,” you inform her. “This whole thread of comments is just 3 guys discussing how they want to share you in a gangbang.”
“Fuck yes. Please…”
She never finishes the sentence, but you get the gist. You persist.
The next one is kinda paraphrased, partially because you’re projecting your own fantasies while simultaneously deciphering what this guy is trying to say across 5 separate comments.
“I want nothing more”—and it’s getting really hard to breathe while Nayeon’s fucking herself senseless halfway across the world. Maybe if she hadn’t worn those damned airpods, you wouldn’t be hearing every single sordid little sound she makes (gasps, sighs, moans and a bunch of phonetic mish-mash that began with the letter ‘o’). You can’t tell if she’s already lost to the haze of pleasure, and even if she hasn’t she’s probably holding on by a thread thinner than hair; on the way there and probably reaching within the next five minutes—“than to pound her little pussy raw and give her a fat load.”
“Oh my fucking god…” she’s descending a little further into her own head, sinking beneath the sheer thrill of masturbating while her partner reads out all the perverse things that people would do to her. Her breaths are almost desperate – earthy and kind of like a product of raw emotion; akin to a groan or maybe even a grunt. At the same time, it’s like she’s struggling to take in the air she needs, fighting to find a reason to take a breath and distract her from this debauched world that she’s dived into. It isn’t just her mind that’s twisted here, but the minds of others too. “Keep going. I need to know how they’re gonna ruin me.”
You’re trying to memorise the next line so you can watch, watch the subtle twitch in her right leg and the grunt-moan hybrid that’s produced from that pleasure stricken throat; the way she becomes a bundle of nerves like you and just starts losing it; the way her fingers go from rubbing to fluttering small circles of heavenly release into her body; the way the round breast that’s slipped out of the robe ripples with each movement from her shoulder. You’re more than happy to watch really; be a witness to the act of her bringing herself to the point of no return as she practically brims with pleasure and bliss that she’s bringing herself. You’re reading is like an add-on, some sick twisted DLC if you really think about it (you’re not really thinking much, but it’s a fun thing to consider). It’s quite like making a drink, albeit a little bit butchered – she’s pouring herself a glass while you wipe the rim with a lemon. The alcohol can spill on your fingers for all you care, you just wanna watch her make it overflow.
TL;DR: you really wanna make her cum.
“I’ll fuck her mouth while you take her pussy”—this one is read word-for-word, verbatim, letter-for-letter. You like how it’s phrased, not quite poetry but beautiful in its own way—“make her gag on this cock till she’s ruining her mascara. We cum together. Give this little slut the spit roast creampie of her life.”
She half-sigh-half-moans – the type of noise she’d make when she’s on her back and being fucked into the mattress. She shifts, undoes the knot holding her robe together and lets the thing part from the middle and falls at her sides. Leaning back against the end of the bathtub, her pleading comes in the form of whines, soft ones that kinda float around the room while she endeavours to work her fingers a little harder. A free hand kneads her breast. Your breath hitches, cock pulsing in your fist as she arches her back and starts to gasp. You read the next lines, the boner-fueled words of some guy who probably had his cock in his hand while typing this out.
“I want her ass. I’ll make her ride it while she takes it up that bubble butt, then you guys an still fuck her pussy and mouth. She’ll be so messy, probably dripping from her pussy and her mouth while three dicks fuck the shit out of all three of her holes. You know what? I bet she’ll enjoy it. The slut flaunts her body like it’s a fucking prize. She’s asking for it.”
There are like 2 more comments, but you never quite make it to the next parts. With a cry, Nayeon leans forward in the bathtub. She digs her fingers back into her slit, restarts the squelching and lets your speakers flood with a sordid symphony; squelch after squelch after squelch feels like music to your ears. “Your cock.” It’s a demand, really raunchy, kinda racy and really (and you really mean really) fucking raw. Can’t quite figure out which part of her strips her of the filter that takes away the pure intoxicating venom that coats her words, but you couldn’t really give more of a shit right now. It’s hot, like, really fucking hot. “Show me your cock. Let me see you stroke it.”
And it’s almost at once that you switch back to the call and flip your camera around. You’ve been going at the same tempo for some time now, and you hope Nayeon can see the utter mess she’s made of you – precum leaking from your tip and your head all swollen and red. She moans, slips another digit inside of her and starts working all three of her fingers harder inside of her.
“Ngh… I really wish that I could be filled with your cock right now,” she drawls. You’re not too sure if she knows that she’s projecting a shared desire right now. It’d be great to feel those warm walls wrapped around your shaft, slicking it with her juices while she rides you at a steady pace. Fuck… She’s ruining you, isn’t she? “With me baby. Cum. Make a mess for me.”
Her words are a little jumbled, but coherence doesn't really matter when she’s spitting pure filth from her lips. It doesn’t take long for either of you to get there, but you like to think that you meet her where she already is and kinda just go from there. At least that’s what you tell yourself as she convulses and is marred by her orgasm, and your cum leaks down your shaft and flows over your knuckles while you watch Your respective cameras capture it all – witnesses the mess you make at the hands of each other (and yourselves). You have to take a second, sit in the warm puddle of your own mess. It’s pooled on your stomach; cleaning up’s gonna be a chore.
“God…” Nayeon breathes. “Always wanted to try this.”
“Guessed as much,” you reply, sitting up in your bed and looking around for tissues. You spot a box of them on your desk. Great.
“Gotta go. Be in touch soon.”
She leaves you in the darkness of your room. From the corner of your eye, you spot a set of eyes watching you from the ajar door. You make out Yuna’s features before she closes the door, no doubt fleeing the scene. You aren’t sure how much she saw, but you hope that whatever she did see hadn’t scared her shitless.
Anyway, there are larger issues at hand.
***
It’s somewhere on the third or fourth night where it happens. For the record: you don’t go to her. She comes to you.
Weather forecast predicted hail, and for once they’re actually correct. It’s pissing it down – the glass on your room not left unscathed from the assault of hail falling from the sky. It’s awfully noisy, helluva hullabaloo. Hard to sleep in this weather really. You warned Yuna—who seems to have gotten a little more comfortable around you—about the horrid weather that you guys were about to be blessed with, and you can’t help but wonder if she’s fairing alright.
The knock on your door comes around a quarter after one. Yuna steps into your room, her silky nightdress kinda glowing in the low light as she sort of just stands there awkwardly. It’s quite like a child entering their parents room in the middle of the night to inform them that they’ve shat the bed. You look at her from under the covers for a bit, and when she continues to be a deer in headlights, you sit up in your bed. “You okay?”
“I’m um…” she begins, fiddling with her fingers as she speaks. “I-It’s noisy… And…”
You understand what she’s attempting to convey. You move to your right in bed, open the covers and pat on the space you’ve left for her. She smiles, grateful. When she settles into the space where Nayeon usually sleeps, you tell her to holler if she needs anything else. You leave her with that, and your back faces her when you—by the grace of some divine powers—drift off.
You wake up again in the early morning. The sleep wasn’t bad – kinda peaceful and dreamless and you want to close your eyes and drift back off. Unfortunately (actually kinda fortunately in this case), Yuna’s legs entangled with yours snaps you awake. You’re worried that you might have rolled into her while you were asleep (you really didn’t want to fuck up again), but her arm around your torso tells you otherwise. She’s cuddled up to you, head against your back and hugging you like you’re her personal soft toy – the usual kind of cuddling. Frankly, you’re at a loss for words. What happens in between is kind of a blur. You remember her stirring, and you remember turning around as slowly and gently as possible. What you don’t quite remember however, is how she ends up with a hand on your cheek. You vaguely remember her asking for some sort of permission, but your heart is beating so loudly in your ears that you can’t really hear or process much. She’s in the most vulnerable of positions right now, and the worst thing you could possibly do is fuck up. Your mishaps from the first day have you on edge.
And now you’re running through the events again in your head, doing your best to pick up on critical exposition that probably would explain the situation you're in. Words fail you as Yuna’s thumb traces a path across your cheek, sweeping back and forth languidly with the smallest of smiles on her face. Her eyes—those hypnotic doleful eyes—stare into yours, and you’re sniffing out some longing behind that gaze.
“Nayeon put in a really good word for you,” she whispers, letting her gaze wander across your face. “She said that you were a trustworthy man… Someone who’ll take care of anyone because you can.”
You’re happy to hear of Nayeon’s positive appraisal of you, but it doesn’t stop your bad habit of cracking a joke in tense situations. “And what’s the customer’s review?”
You’re glad that she laughs. If she didn’t, you’d have to expand your list to include a 14th reason.
“She told me to trust you and that I can feel safe around you,” she reports. She takes a moment to bring her eyes back to yours. Her smile grows wider. “I’m happy to say that I do… Largely.”
And all at once: a two tonne weight around your chest feels like it just dropped a twenty-story height. You aren’t sure if Yuna’s giggling because of the fact that you’re visibly relieved or because you heaved the loudest sigh of relief of your career.
“Man… I thought I’d completely fucked up after the first day,” you admit to her, relishing the feeling of your body relaxing in bed. “Never quite got to apologise for that.”
“And you don’t have to”—her smile is quite soothing to be honest, puts you right at ease after looking at it for a second or two— “I was just kinda shocked��� And I kinda have a bad experience of being yelled at. Working on it though.”
Huh. Guess Nayeon was right about her.
“Still though,” you raise, rubbing your eyebrow. “I’m sorry.”
Yuna chortles. Her lips slant at an angle. “Forgiven and forgotten. Happy?”
You smile in response to the progress. “Hey. You go girl.”
She graces you with a wink. A moment of silence follows.
“Did Nayeon ask you to be touchy with me?” you can’t help but inquire. It’s out of the blue, but hey: a burning question is a burning question. “I mean… It’s not everyday that a cute girl just pulls up in my bed and caresses my cheek.”
“She said that you’ll be fine”—she retracts the hand on your cheek. The two tonne weight starts rising to the 5th floor—“and are you flirting with me?”
(Two tonne weight falls. Phew… What a workout.)
“Maybe.” You don’t really like being blunt cause there’s always some merit in a bit of playing around. Now that you think back on it, you may or may not have picked this up from Nayeon. Damn girl is ruining you. “Take it how you want, just don’t think I’m being sarcastic.”
Yuna smirks a little. “Nayeon did say you like to play around with your words,” she lifts a finger and points away from the bed, “not sure if she influenced you,” she points towards you, “or if you influenced her”.
“What if we’re both a little guilty?”
“Then I’ll be the outlier. Can I kiss you?”
And it feels like time stops. For the seconds that you stare at her in silence, one brain cell exerts maximum fucking effort to process the weight of her words. You wouldn’t have been as hesitant if she’d just kissed you directly, but now that she’s asking for consent first, you’re high-key at a loss for words. The sun’s starting to rise and the room’s being filled with this sorta radiant glow… Or maybe it’s just her.
“Woah,” you can’t help but muse. Of course, you’re exaggerating by quite a bit. “You are… Super blunt.”
“Figured you could use a change of pace.”
Then Yuna closes the distance between the two of you. She hesitates for a little, hovering over your lips for a bit before she finally decides to press her lips onto yours. It’s kinda sweet; her lips feel amazing and she’s really going down on you. You comb your hands through her hair, let the smell of sweet shampoo kinda intoxicate you a little while she tugs at your lower lip with her teeth. Unlike Nayeon, it feels like she’s kissing you because she wants to. The older girl sometimes makes it feel like she’s doing it for the sake of it, and then proceeds to tear through your clothes to get to your dick. Yuna takes her time, lets her hand on your face get familiar with the structure of your jaw as fingers graze them gently; introduces her index finger and thumb to your chin as she tips it to deepen the kiss a little.
“Hey,” she calls once the kiss is broken. She’s glowing in the light of the room, the smile on her face pretty fucking adorable. “Did Nayeon ever tell you that I look the best when I take it from the back?”
Again: super fucking blunt.
Clothes are never a hassle when you’re kinda in a rush, and Yuna’s night dress slips right off her body like the plate she dropped from the tray. You have her on her back, kinda half-mewing-half-keening as you catch a nipple in your mouth and suck on on it. The toned muscles on her stomach tense and relax, the rapid ebb and flow of pleasure in her system making her body move in all sorts of sensual ways as you palm her other breast.
And here’s the thing you like about Yuna: she lets you take her time with her, really revels in the sweetness of the moment while your trailing kisses down to her crotch. She moans for you – sweet music that tells you yeah that’s the spot while you acquaint and familiarise yourself with her body; she shifts herself accordingly – rolls to her side when you were kissing her plunging collarbones and opens her legs for you when you get to that pretty, pink pussy. It’s like she’s wired to please you, responding to your every move with a move of her own like you’re locked in a dance with her. It’s a welcome change of pace from having to fight and dirty talk your way to even get the chance to fuck Nayeon.
(In case you’re wondering: you do eat her out, but you kinda get lazy to really put into words. All you need to know are these few key points:
Firstly, she’s delicious, sweet and salty and kinda tangy. A bit of a subjective taste but you like it.
Secondly, her moans are really fucking adorable. They’re not even, like, purposefully made that way. She just kinda lets them flow from her mouth – choked-up cries of pleasure while warm thighs wrap around your ears.
Lastly, when she cums, it’s fucking amazing. It’s like she brings heaven down to earth with her cries and makes sure you get to touch it as much as she can. Her body is fucking riveting – arches deliciously when she arrives and makes you twitch in your pants.
Bottom line: she’s really fucking hot, quite like Nayeon in the way she tries you on sometimes but patient and actually giving you the chance to talk dirty with her. Damn… She really is a change of pace.)
And so: reaching between your bodies with her on all fours, you grasp your cock in your right hand, slipping it between Yuna’s legs. The young woman spreads her thighs as best she can – readies herself for entry. Your head pushes between her lips, waiting for only a moment, before you thrust hard inside her, filling her to the hilt with your cock. She’s awfully tight, really fucking wet and God is it hot in there. You almost think molten iron seems to be brewing in her core.
“Tell me,” she huffs, a sly smile on her face as she props herself up on her elbows. “Am I better? Or is Nayeon still the best?”
You caress the swell of her ass. “Baby… I think you’ll be the best fuck I’ll have in a while.”
It’s almost cruel: the way you kinda just start thrusting without any warning. She likes it though, and you only know because she possesses the bluntness to do so.
“God you’re fucking big.” And her ass ripples with each thrust you deliver into that slick little pussy of her’s. “Fuck… How does Nayeon even manage you?”
(The thing you like about her is how she asks a question like it was some sort of objective statement – not a rhetorical question, just something for you to respond to.)
You fuck her harder in response to that, kinda push yourself all the way into her. The tip of your cock slams against her cervix and her cries ring throughout your room. Your room fills with the sort of visceral sound one would associate with skin slapping against skin. There are definitely some more words to be shared during sex – the girl has a little more things she wants to get off her chest, but what the whole exchange boils down to is a back and forth of her gasping and crying out and saying you’re the best dick she'll ever get and you telling her you love the feel of her little cunt.
(It's really not like you're trying to prove something by being super rough. Yuna just happens to really, really like the feel of a thick cock pounding into her. Maybe Nayeon was right – her taking it from the back was a good idea.
Or maybe she's just a slut.
Who knows?)
"Yeah," you growl. You reach forward and grab a handful of her hair, pull her body against yours. "Take my cock baby."
"I can take it," she gasps, the breath knocked out of her. Her fingers curl against the bedsheets and she's just taking your cock. She's a lot easier to please than Nayeon – less stubborn about being in control, but also much, much more willing to please. "Oh God, fuck me, please..."
You slam deep inside her. Her body jerks forward and the sound that comes from her mouth is a mix between a cry and a gasp. "Please what?"
"Fuck me harder," she says. She's practically begging for it. "Make me cum. Please, please make me cum!"
Taking up her request is all you really wanna do. She didn’t need to add the multiple pleads, but you took some pleasure in hearing it.
You grab ahold of her shoulders, pull her close till she's almost upright. "You're gonna cum around my dick," you growl. You start a series of rapid, hard thrusts and her body goes limp in your arms. "And you're gonna make a mess of yourself."
She nods frantically. She's a mess already, all sweaty and red. The sounds that leave her mouth are incoherent. With two fingers pressing hard and directly against her clit, you start circling on it, making her a complete fucking wreck in the middle of your room as you really try to get her off. There's a sweet spot you find after a moment – the pad of your digits slipping around the nub and her knees give, almost making her buckle until she's flat on her stomach on the bed, crying and shaking as you use her like a toy.
"Please... Fuck... Don't stop, oh God don't stop!" Her cries are like a prayer to you. You've never heard anything like it. You fuck her right through it, watching as her back arches and her legs twitch, until she's almost completely gone. There's only a little bit more left. She just needs a little extra push.
So you decide to go a little hard. You hold her by her hips, keep her legs shut, and thrust directly down onto her pussy with a force you'd only reserve for someone like Nayeon. Her eyes roll back in her head as you really take her like you've wanted to ever since you started; it's almost animalistic how you really try to get her to cum as hard as she can. You can almost feel her orgasm build up in her body. Her breathing grows shorter and more erratic and she's mewling in her throat – so close. You can taste it.
"You like my cock don't you?" You reach around, give her tits a squeeze. She almost cums from that.
"Yes," she whimpers. You know she's not playing the part – she genuinely wants your dick. "Please... Let me cum on your cock..."
(You don’t admit it verbally, but you like it when girls beg. Nayeon never does, and it’s a novelty now that she’s doing it.)
You hold her down with an arm on her lower back. Her head's to the side, hair plastered to her skin with sweat as you fuck her from behind. She's panting and whining, begging you for more; “please please more”. You like that. It's cute. You wanna hear it. So you go harder. She screams into the sheets, but the sounds are muffled, but she's pretty loud nonetheless. It's good to see her let go like this, really let loose and not hold anything back. There's a fire that she ignites inside you. "Fuck..."
It's like a little fire that ignites and grows bigger, burns brighter with each thrust. She's so tight and so fucking wet; the wet sounds that accompany each thrust really turns you on. Your body feels so hot. There's this warmth that spreads across your entire body with every passing second. She moans and cries, whimpering as you nail her into the sheets.
Then there's this moment of clarity that hits her, and she looks back at you – she smiles, eyes half-lidded and she whispers something to you.
"Cum inside me," she says. She's shaking. "Please..."
Your rhythm grows sloppy as you edge closer and closer to the climax. Your cock feels like it's growing harder, bigger – there's this throb in it and your body's all tensed up. It feels like something inside you is going to snap, break loose and make you cum. It's not the best feeling in the world, but the way it grows stronger and stronger really makes your toes curl and your skin tingle.
And she's so beautiful like this: spread out for you, skin sweaty, cheeks red, and ass in the air as you fuck her. It's the best way you can ever imagine her – she looks like she belongs to you like this, her body a playground for your lust, and she wants it just as much as you do. There's a mutual feeling between the two of you.
The pleasure comes and it hits you like a train. It feels like something inside your balls tighten and then snap and then there's this euphoria that envelopes you. You feel your cock pulse with every burst of semen that spurts from the head. Yuna cries as her pussy gets filled and filled, until it's running out and dripping from her cunt, but you can't stop fucking her. You want to feel that sweet, sweet release, to see how long it will go, to really enjoy this moment. She feels amazing, and your heart pounds and you want her so badly. You need her.
She cums — It's a hard, shuddering orgasm that wracks her body. She cums and she screams for you, and she makes a mess of herself as promised. It's really fucking hot – the way she completely loses her composure and her legs shudder violently as you pound her pussy through it all, soaking in the perverted pleasure she brings you while you fuck her freshly-creamed pussy till your hips kinda give. You collapse on her, panting and grunting on top of her while she struggles to breathe.
In this moment. She isn’t like Nayeon in the slightest.
She’s a welcome change of pace.
***
“Thinking back… There were signs in highschool that I probably ignored.”
And the water sloshes around as Yuna shifts a little in the bathtub. She’s found it to her liking to prop herself up against you, let her head rest against your shoulder while you hold her close to your chest. You’ll admit that it’s a bit of an awkward arrangement, but there was no way you could just not indulge her after she asks to take a bath with you.
“The worst part is that they weren’t even, like, subtle,” she tells you, just sort of staring out into the distance while she talked. “He’d punch things when he got angry, even slapped a referee after he lost a game… Love is blind huh?”
You held her a little closer to your chest. “It’s okay. We all make mistakes.”
“Yeah, well, my mistakes left me with no physical scars but the emotional ones are plenty.”
You hope she can’t see you grimace. It’s hard to recover from these types of things, especially if you realise the stupidity behind your decisions.
“I’m sorry that happened to you,” you tell her, and you really mean it. “It must be difficult… You know: recovering.”
The front of her lips curve up. “Thanks. I try not to let it weigh me down too much but… Just kinda happens to come out every now and then.”
You get it, you really do. Not that you’ve been in an abusive relationship like hers before, but you understand what it’s like. It’s sad really: being unable to break out of a cycle that hurts you the more you try to stay and change it. You admire the young girl’s strength, envy her courage for finally breaking the cycle and freeing herself for good.
“You’re safe now,” you whisper, moving some wet hair out of her face. “I will never hurt you. I promise.”
She smiles at that. “Thank you,” she says while pinching your cheek, “that means a lot to me.”
Then you bask in the silence for a little, taking in the smell of the bath salts and the feel of Yuna’s soft skin against yours. It’s a pretty romantic moment till Yuna’s bluntness breaks it.
“I’m, like, really wet,” she announces, gazing up at you from her position on your shoulder. You laugh.
“Didn’t you just cum?”
“Good things come in threes.”
She fixes you with a look, like she knows that you’re gonna give in.
(And you know what? She’s absolutely right. Can’t say no to a pretty girl.)
***
“Well hello to you too.”
Nayeon sounds almost angry on the other side of the video call. On your end, you have your phone’s back camera pointed to the current situation: Yuna atop of you, thighs locked around your cock as her hips rock up and down steadily. Her thighs are warm, pillowy; makes you grit your teeth while she moves languidly.
“Nayeon!” Yuna exclaims, almost too saccharine as she keeps her eyes locked on yours. “We were just thinking of you.”
She isn’t lying. Just moments before her call came, you two were making a joke about how she’d never let you get away with as much as Yuna did. It was a pretty humorous conversation, almost comedic if it wasn’t for the fact that Yuna was tugging your sweats down your thighs.
But, there she was, still moving in your lap. Yuna leans forward, hands planted on your chest as she continues to rock her hips, ass bouncing a little against your thighs.
You can hear a scoff from Nayeon.
Yuna turns her head to the screen, eyes looking at the phone but her hands still pushing on your chest, fingers flexing. "We really were," she whines, lips jutted into a pout. You watch her as her lips curl into a small smirk just a second later, her teeth peeking out, and you can feel your face grow warm when she looks back at you.
"Tell her what we were talking about," she orders, her voice soft but firm.
"Um...we were just, um—" you stutter out, and your throat goes dry as her hips keep going, her thigh muscles clenching around you.
"Go on."
"We were...just, uh, talking about how you're not here," you finally manage to get out.
"Aww, baby...” Nayeon is smiling. It’s sarcasm by the way; she's enjoying this as much as Yuna is.
Yuna's pout returns. "See, Nayeon?" She continues to roll her hips against you. "We were thinking of you,” she reiterates, making sure she has your eye contact while she fucks you with her heavenly thighs, “I know it's not fair that you aren't here, but he’s just so fucking hard… Someone had to do something about it.”
Nayeon gives a snort. “You two are lucky I’m not alone in my room right now.”
“And what would happen if you were?” Yuna challenges. You don’t recall her being this daring.
“Playing with myself, obviously,” the older girl replies. “You think I’d just watch you get him off with your thighs? I barely let that boy dominate me.”
Yuna chuckles and smiles your way.
“What a horrible situation,” she whispers, moving a little faster. “Luckily I’m here to pamper him.”
“And he’d better enjoy it while it lasts,” Nayeon smirks. “When I’m home he’s–”
Yuna cuts her off by hanging up. You stare wide-eyed in shock as she tosses the phone aside. “Too noisy. I can’t multitask,” she explains. “Call her back later. Let’s get back to it.”
With that, Yuna leans over you, her chest pressed to yours as she gives a slow grind in your lap, her hips moving in a figure eight. Your head rolls back, and you release a loud, drawn-out groan. Her thighs are so smooth against your cock, so warm, so soft. You wish you could bury your face in between them. The way her hips move is incredible; she knows what she wants, knows how to work you.
You try to sit up, but Yuna pushes you back down by your chest. Her lips curve into a smile, and she shakes her head.
"Stay down," she whispers, "you don't wanna ruin this, do you?"
"No."
"Then stay still. I'll make it quick."
Quick is an understatement. She's barely rocking her hips in your lap, but with how soft her thighs are, and the way they grip you like a vice, you know it'll probably be over sooner or later. You make a note to try and make this last for as long as you can. Yuna leans over you again, hands on your chest as she gives a rough buck of her hips. Your head snaps back and you let out a loud groan. She continues to grind against you, slowly, making sure to hit every sensitive part of your cock. You reach up to grab her hips, but she slaps your hands away.
"No touching," she tuts. "Let me do the work. You relax."
Your lips open to protest. She shushes you with a finger.
"Own me later," she whispers, sliding the finger down to the point where your collar bones meet. "Let me take care of you now."
You gulp, nodding.
Yuna's hands settle back on your chest, nails dragging across your skin, making you shiver. She's looking at you with those doe eyes, those pretty pink lips curled into a smirk as her hips pick up pace. The friction is incredible; Yuna's thighs feel like silk wrapped around your cock, warm and soft; the way they're clamped around you has you seeing stars. Your breath hitches in your throat when Yuna moves faster.
(And another thing about her: she’s so fucking good at pleasuring you that she always makes you lose your ability to think.)
"Fuck..." You moan, throwing your head back. "Feels so good..."
She smiles at that, giving a small hum of approval. "Does it?" She asks. "Good."
You look up at her, watching her roll her hips. She's really putting in work, moving in all sorts of ways to make sure you're feeling the most pleasure. It's not lost on you; she's an angel, and you thank every god there is for having her. Your cock throbs between her thighs, aching. The head is flushed red and leaking precum, which smears all over Yuna's thighs as she keeps moving. Your toes curl in the sheets, fingers gripping the fabric as she rides you.
Yuna continues to roll her hips, giving a few rough bucks when she feels like it. You're groaning and moaning under her, letting out all kinds of sounds that make her chuckle. She's having fun teasing you, getting you close to orgasm only to slow down and watch your face contort with pleasure.
"Don't cum yet," she says softly, running her hands over your chest. "We just started."
"I-I know," you reply, breathless. "But I...fuck..."
Yuna giggles. "That good?"
"Yeah. Fuck… don't stop."
"Wouldn't dream of it, baby."
You throw your head back, your hips twitching under hers. Yuna chuckles, keeping her thighs locked around you. Your cock aches, throbbing between them as she moves; precum drips onto her legs, which only makes the slide easier for her. You're starting to sweat; your body's temperature rises with each passing moment, the feeling of her thighs overwhelming you. Yuna's so warm against you, so soft and pliable; you can't help but imagine her underneath you, moaning and writhing as you fuck her. The thought has you bucking your hips up into her, causing her to gasp.
"Someone's eager," Yuna teases, running a hand through her hair. "What's going through your head?"
You groan in response, your hands sliding down her sides to grip her hips. "Nothing," you lie.
She snorts, knowing full well what's on your mind.
"Liar." She rocks her hips forward. "What are you thinking about?"
You gaze at her for a moment. "If I said you... Would you believe me?"
She rolls her eyes. "Wouldn't put it past you," she stops moving for a bit to give you the attention. "What are you doing to me in your head?"
"I never said–"
"Please," she interjects "We both know you want to bend me over the nearest fucking surface and fuck my brains out right now."
Her thighs start moving again. Your head falls back and a moan escapes you.
"Can you blame me?" You say. She smiles.
"No, not really. I am pretty hot anyway."
(There’s that little bit of Nayeon in her.)
You nod. "You're so fucking good to me." You manage to get out.
Yuna chuckles. "Wanna know something?"
"What?"
"I love the way you feel between my thighs," she tells you. "And I love how you sound when I'm making you feel good. I want to hear more of it."
With that, she leans forward, pressing her lips to yours. Her hips keep moving, rolling against you at an agonizing pace, causing you to moan against her mouth. She's quite literally giving you everything you want, injecting some mischief here and there that makes it feel like Nayeon possesses her sporadically. She's more gentle though, more kind and more caring too. Okay, not that Nayeon doesn't care, but she's kinda ruthless when she's horny. Yuna's much more caring, and a lot more willing to be a pillow princess. She likes being pampered. She likes being loved on and adored. She wants to be fucked and she wants to be taken care of. It's a mutual feeling between the two of you. You'll worship her, and she'll love you for it.
Yuna pulls away from the kiss, moving to your neck. She gives it a few open-mouthed kisses, nipping at your skin. You sigh, letting your head fall back. She continues to rock her hips against yours, grinding down onto your cock. Her hands slide up your chest, nails digging into your skin, eliciting a gasp from you.
Yuna chuckles, kissing up your neck to your ear. "You're so big," she whispers. "So fucking thick... Feels so good."
You groan, fingers gripping her hips.
"You like that?" She asks. "Like me talking about your cock?"
You nod.
"I love it," and she talks with a purr. "Love how it feels inside me... How deep it goes... How hard it throbs..." She whispers—no. Moans all this right into your ear. "Fuck... I really want this thing inside me right now."
"Later," you quickly propose. "Please?"
She laughs — sweet and melodic. "Never said that I would put it inside of me," she reminds you. "Now, you zip up and make a mess for me, okay?"
You moan in response, nodding your head. You can't deny her, not when she's making you feel this good.
Yuna keeps moving against you, her thighs clenching around your cock. She moves slowly, her hips rolling at an agonizing pace. Your cock is aching; you can feel yourself getting closer to your climax with each passing second. Your eyes are glued to her thighs, watching them move. She looks so good on top of you. Her hips are hypnotic; your mind spins as she fucks you.
Your eyes move up to her face. Her eyes are closed, lips parted slightly as she focuses on her movements. Her hands are still on your chest, fingers flexing. Her breathing is heavy, warm breath fanning over your skin. You take in her beauty, letting it consume you. She's so fucking perfect, so angelic. Hard to believe how much of a slut she can be.
"I'm close," you manage to get out. "Yuna..."
She smiles. "Go ahead, baby."
"Don't wanna make a mess." You say.
Yuna giggles, her hips picking up pace. "Too late for that."
That's what sends you over the edge.
You cum; it’s fucking messy.
Cum fills the space between your dick and her thighs, slathering and flowing and spurting onto everything it can possibly get on. It slicks the insides of her legs; gets on her ass a little and pools beneath her crotch. Yuna hums in satisfaction, a smile on her face as she turns behind her to survey the damage.
“Clean up on aisle four,” she mutters, reaching back to wipe some cum off her ass. She sends her fingers into her mouth – makes a big show of sucking them clean. You can’t help but chuckle a little at the sight.
“Hey,” you call her, your hands reaching down to grope her ass. “I’m planning to change the sheets tomorrow.”
She gives you a look. “Are you saying that cause you’re actually going to? Or because you just want to fuck me right now.”
Oh and she’s perceiving you almost too accurately. You won’t admit your answer, even to yourself.
“I dunno,” you shrug. “Either way: we’ll have to change the sheets.”
Yuna matches your game.
“Call Nayeon back,” she instructs. “Let’s show her what she’s missing.”
***
Again: Nayeon just kinda chooses when and where to be a bit of a minx, and you just have to roll with it really.
The decision—for today—was made somewhere halfway through the drive to fetch Yuna. You were just talking about how Nayeon had picked that girl up, and her voice trails off as she passes the exit sign. She just keeps on driving while pretending to look like she’s in the right. The GPS doesn’t lie though: it keeps on promoting her to U-turn at every opportunity that’s available to her. She ignores it of course, kinda tunes it out even though the instructions are really getting annoying now (and not to mention it sounds like it’s demanding her to go back this instant, like a mum who just can’t get her kid to listen). It’s like how she ignores you lately.
“She’s probably gonna think we crashed or something,” you muse, lurching in your seat a little as she takes a left. “We’re like, what, fifteen minutes late or something?”
“Nah,” Nayeon quickly refutes. She stops to let a BMW swerve around the corner before she gently taps on the gas. “She’s probably still packing her things,” the turning signal clicks at a steady tempo, stops after she takes the 3rd exit on the roundabout, “maybe even settling a bit of her make up or whatever.”
This is the most she’s spoken since her return.
You hazard a glance at the GPS. The blue line leading you back to your intended destination only grows longer, sometimes glitching a little as the turn of Nayeon’s car gives it the illusion that you’re heading back when she’s really just turning into a one way street. You can’t tell if she knows where she’s going or if she’s just throwing out random bullshit.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she grumbles, casting a rather nasty glance your way. “I’m just taking a shortcut. That’s all.”
(Is it not painfully obvious where this is going?)
And a few minutes later, she’s got you gritting your teeth in the backseat of her car. No smug remarks from her — she has your balls in her mouth and she’s getting real sloppy in some alley she’s parked in. You don’t know where to begin, where to find solid reasoning for what you’re witnessing and feeling right now. It’s pretty fucking asinine (and she probably knows that it is) and damn straight goes against all branches of logic. In no world does she have a valid reason for being this horny at 11am on a Saturday.
(Actually, there’s one reason: she just feels like it.)
“You do know that we’re both astronomically fucked if anyone so much as glances our way.” You’re ashamed to admit that this actually has you hissing, partly out of annoyance and partly out of pleasure. “You’re fucking ridiculous. I hope you know that.”
Nayeon spits on your cock. Her hands close into a fist around your shaft, her eyes almost empty as she spreads her saliva in a close to even layer over you. “Are you quite done?” She asks. The emptiness in her voice is kinda scary. It makes her sound exasperated, like she’s sick of your reasonings. “You know, you talk an awful lot for someone who literally writhes when I quite fucking literally touch your cock. Don’t act tough on me. We both know who you are. We both know you’re my toy.”
Figuring out if this is part of the bit is the hardest part of your predicament. She plays too much as of late: with her eyes, her tone, her facial expressions… Sometimes it makes you wonder if she really keeps you around just to satisfy her cock cravings or if she really wants you around. Ever since she’s gotten back, it feels like she’s been fucking you and Yuna with nothing but pure hate. You feel it in her eyes, in the violent buck of her hips when she rides you or even in the way she spanks Yuna with a little too much glee. It confounds you; admittedly: you’re petrified of the possibility that she’s straight up jealous of how your relationship with Yuna’s been going since she roped her into this mess.
You can’t help it. You need to know.
You grab her by the wrist, a little harder than you’d like but it’ll have to do. “Stop,” and you don’t mean to be assertive, but it’s all you can summon now. “I need you to answer me honestly.”
In the passenger-side seat, Nayeon fixes her gaze on yours. She tries to struggle from your grasp; you keep a firm grip.
“What are we?” you ask, straightforward; direct. You’ve been with Yuna enough times to know that this’ll elicit an honest response from her. “Cause it just feels like I’m just your piece of meat to fuck and own. We don’t talk, you don’t even look at me when we go to sleep… What are we Nayeon?”
And it makes her freeze. Your sincerity is scary to her — ropes her into your thoughts more than you usually do. She’s silent, face blanker than paper. Her fingers on the hand that you’ve got in your grasp curl a little. “We’re just fuck buddies… That’s all.”
You just stare at her for a second, soak in the weight of that statement. “Then why does it feel like you’re jealous of Yuna?”
“I’m not. What are you even…” You can tell she’s surprised — her eyes do that thing where they widen, and then she blinks. Your question is loaded to her: it catches her in a place where she’s made privy to the fact that her emotions are more out there and perceptible than she’d like.
You raise an eyebrow. “Come on… We both know that’s not true.”
Her plump lips purse. She looks away for a moment.
“And what would you do if I said I was jealous?” she raises. “Kick her out? Stop fucking her?”
She raises a valid argument. Frankly, you didn’t bring this up with the end goal of sorting this out. You just wanted the older girl to accept her emotions, maybe acknowledge that it’s a little petty and then kinda just move on. Of course, nothing with Nayeon is ever really that simple.
“You’re the one that brought her into this,” you remind her, partly because you feel like she isn’t acknowledging her fault in this situation and partly because you have nothing else to say.
She rips her hand away. “So it’s my fault then?”
“What?” you sit up a little in your seat. “No. That’s not what I’m saying.”
“Then what are you saying?”
Her eyes sear your soul with her frustration. This hurts her more than you think. “I’m saying we’re both a little guilty here,” you clarify. “We both have a part to play in how you feel, so maybe we should just talk this out.”
She goes quiet. Too quiet considering the circumstance.
“Later.” She decides. “I think better with a load inside of me.”
***
So to reiterate: they're similar but kinda different.
“Jesus… Did you really have to get it on my dress?” Nayeon’s clearly pissed. The wet wipe in her hand rubs at the stain of her dress furiously, as if the aggressive motion will kinda just get it out magically. Yuna retires into your arms, her sweat-matted hair sticking to your chest a little. The syntax behind how you got to this point is more complicated that you’d care to elaborate on, but let’s just say: Nayeon was happier a second ago…
(Okay but to be fair: her dress was in the way when you pulled out. So it’s like, half your fault, but you like to play the victim.)
“Relax,” Yuna assures her senior. “It’ll wash right off.”
Nayeon clicks her tongue in annoyance. “You stop defending him. He knows what he’s done.”
Yuna giggles. She smiles up at you. “Yeah… He does.”
They don’t know it, but they’ve got a pretty good dynamic going: Mother-daughter; Spicy and Sweet; Sour Cream and Onion. They contrast, diverge; but they compliment each other almost perfectly.
(It’s no family reunion; but it’s dinner and diatribes from here on out.)
—
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. Hope you will be full of joy and fulfill your dreams next year!
Anyway! This is lokwey the start of a series where I just kinda explore more filthy and complicated things, stuff that’s just not quite right but somehow works. I won’t be following the same idols and people, so this isn’t exactly an interlinked series. Hard to explain but you guys can just come to your own conclusions really.
~Nichu
#kpop#smut#im nayeon#nayeon#twice nayeon#twice smut#nayeon smut#shin yuna#itzy yuna#itzy smut#itzy yuna smut
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puppy love (but it’s cats!) part 2
part 1
max verstappen x vet!yn
fc: girls from pinterest
summary: as a Monaco native, Yn has had her fair share of encounters with F1 drivers. and as a vet, she has even fostered close relationships with some of the driver's pets. what happens when she is introduced to a single Max Verstappen who has two adorable cats?
rumorhasitf1
liked by butfirstmax, exusername and 6,083 others
rumorhasitf1: 🚨 JUST IN 🚨
Max Verstappen spotted kissing a mysterious brunette while on vacation in the Bahamas 👀
1,672 comments
maxisfast: mama a frat boy era max behind YOU 💜
dutch1: call me crazy but she has the same hair length as the girl in barcelona
maxiellvr: that or he just has a type 🤔
vermax: OHHHHHHH AGAIN?
frmlamax: he's just kissing everyone at this point (jk it's been like 2 people)
maxstap1: me 3 drinks in
butfirstmax: and what if it's vetyn...
albon33: i mean she is brunette..
vermax: and so are a million other girls lets chill guys
rbgirl: ANDDDD may he enjoy it *insert Olivia Wilde nodding gif*
maxlovescats: no fr people are acting like he's a hoe or something like his life up until now has been so hyper focused on racing. dating has always been a secondary thing and he's always been in long term relationships let him have some funnnn
rbgirl: TRUTH.
userloves1633: not max's ex in the likes...
30three: honestly it could be that they're back together or that she's not leaving him alone which not surprising considering the break up aftermath.
vetyn
liked by maxverstappen1 and 3,781 others
vetyn: a summer for the books 📖🌅🌊🫧
1,782 comments
ynbestfriend: oh FOR SURE 😏
vetyn: hehe 🤭
f1fan: omg that looks like one of Max's cats
frmlamax: WAIT...
lilymhe: gorg girl I miss you!
vetyn: i miss you so so so much. see you soon tho xx
ynfriend: prettiest girl!
liked by vetyn
maxverstappen1: Paddel rematch?
vetyn: oh you're on but i’ll win!
maxverstappen1: We'll see about that
rbgirl: ARE WE ALL SEEING THISSSSSS
ynsister: THE KITTTTYYYYY 🥰
vetyn: my baby 🥹💞
girlstappen: ok maybe i'm just delulu but that watch looks a lot like Max's
maxlovescats: NO I WAS THINKING THAT TOO
albonooo: omg were you at the Monaco GP???
vetyn: yes ☺️
alexandrasaintmleux: 💕
liked by vetyn
rumorhasitf1
liked by alex_albon, vermax and 6,523 others
rumorhasitf1: Max Verstappen was asked about his new relationship in the media pen.
1,873 comments
lexalbon: NOT ALEX IN THE LIKES???
twenty33three: that really makes me think he was the wingman
maxiellvr: notice how the interviewer says "newly" hehe no ex here!
verstappen4life: true and he looks so re-energized
notmaxver: guys it has to be @/vetyn
userloves1633: THE DIRECT TAG IS CRAZY LOL
frmla1girl: true but i mean the clues are there
frmlamax: he looks sooooo happy aweee
rbgirl: BLUSHING AND SMILING
maxisfast: I hope we get to see them together soon!
ynbff story
[caption 1] new tradition? [caption 2] thank you for letting sassy spend the day with auntie 🥰 @/vetyn @/maxverstappen1
user: yn's bff.... is "auntie" to a bengal...named SASSY AND yn's bff tagged MAX VERSTAPPEN on the story...
user: I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS AHHHHHH
user: wait was this posted on accident i thought they were keeping it lowkey
user: yes I think she didn't mean to post it LMAO
user: the third story omg 💀
user: this is so funny 😭
vetyn
liked by maxverstappen1, ynsister and 14,267 others
vetyn: a very special weekend 💙🦁 met some very cute dogs and reunited with others! oh and my boyfriend was there too!
9,523 comments
ynbff: omg hard launch awesome 😱 so can we just pretend i didnt lowkey leak your relationship on accident 💕
vetyn: right okay…
maxverstappen1: Don’t worry we forgive you
ynbff: THANKS MAX 😄
girlstappen: THE PICTURE 🥹
ynfriend: so happy for you!!!!
liked by vetyn
notmaxver: OHHH I KNEW IT
rbgirl: why is no one talking about the caption i burst out laughing 😭
f1fan: no cause same
dutch1: the drinks same girl
maxiellvr: when cat lovers meet 🐈
liked by vetyn
alex_albon: Where’s my credit?
lilymhe: what are you talking about? this was all my doing? 🤨
alex_albon: I LITERALLY SET THEM UP
vetyn: alex don’t lie!
alex_albon: At this point you guys are just ganging up on me
maxisfast: new wag alert!
frmlamax: cutest couple ever omg
⋆。°✩ ⋆。°✩ ⋆。°✩ ⋆。°✩ ⋆。°✩ ⋆。°✩ ⋆。°✩ ⋆。°✩ ⋆。°
a/n: anddd here’s part 2! sorry for taking forever school was really stressful for like 2 months straight but i’m so happy the semester is over 🧚🏻 also congrats to max and kelly on their baby!!!! i think i posted part 1 to this like a week before that was announced lol!
taglist: @anilovessadbooks @raizelchrysanderoctavius
#charles16#forza ferrari#f1 2024#f1 fic#f1 smau#f1 imagine#max verstappen#max verstappen x reader#red bull f1#red bull racing#max emilian verstappen#red bull formula 1#red bull team#formulaamar#f1 fandom#max vertsappen fic#world champion#mv1 x reader#mv1 imagine#mv1 fic#m4x#oracle red bull racing#red bull
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⸻ SAINT MATTHEW'S ACADEMY II (preview)
- "i haven't quite moved on from who you were before"
SYNOPSIS ⸻ heeseung at the start thought he wouldn't mind if you forgot him. but now with his best friend fighting for that sacred position in your heart, he can't help but try to make you remember.
PAIRING ⸻ lee heeseung x fem!reader x park sunghoon
GENRE ⸻ love triangle, exes to ??, friends to ??, private school au, angst, smut, fluff
TAGS ⸻ tba.
EST. WC ⸻ 20-25k
PREVIEW BELOW CUT ->
No more words, you said no more words after his confession. You stayed silent, and that pain flooded you today. The silence stayed with you.
Every night you’d spend on a phone call with him, laughing because no matter how hard you begged him he wouldn’t hang up first, was now filled with the darkness and tranquility of your room, the only sound being the cars that sped past your window or occasionally drunk people who’d loudly call out to taxi’s.
A tall figure towered over you, casting a dark shadow on your papers. An intense scent radiated off of them and you knew exactly who it was.
“Did Sunghoon come to school today?” Jay asked, just like he has every single day.
There was also Sunghoon. Another person you hadn't spoken to. Another person that just disappeared.
His presence in the situation felt so foggy, confusing. Your growing feelings for the boy also confused you.
Did Heeseung tell him to kiss you like that, touch you in those places?
You tried calling him, once, then twice and you’d call again a third time just in case the other two didn't go through. But he didn’t answer anymore. You didn't know if you wanted to speak to him so badly to find out what happened before the party or because you missed him.
Maybe it was both.
Jay chose to stick by Sunghoon almost immediately, which was appaling considering he knew Heeseung much longer. He claimed that Sunghoon just gave into his manly desires and Heeseung is wrong for punching him over nothing. ‘I’d do the same to her if I were him’- Jake forwarded a couple weeks back.
You were no longer mad at Jay, you’d no longer get annoyed at his snarky, degrading remarks. You just accepted the fact that he’ll never get better.
“No, he didn’t” you replied, turning around to face him “Just like he didn’t yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that one too” you added, a sarcastic smile on your face.
He dyed his hair, the blond locks no longer complimenting his sharp features. He looked much softer with the brown dye.
He sighed “Can I sit?” Jay eyed the seat next to you, and you looked at him amused.
“You want to sit next to a woman? Won’t my female aura disturb your studying?” you scoffed, a hint of sarcasm in your tone.
He rolled his eyes “Very funny” he looked over to Jake who has finally caught a whiff of him “Jakey, what you say?” he tilted his head.
The relationship between them used to be strong, but that’s probably because Jake pretended to be someone different, someone much ‘cooler’. Cooler as in a lame pig who liked to shove alcohol down innocent girls throats.
Oh you’d never let him forget that.
“Do whatever you want, I don’t care honestly” he replied, avoiding eye contact with him.
That’s how it was most day’s at school. Jake and Jay pretended to hate each other, not care, even though deep down, they still had so much left to say. Jay would come down to the study hall with an excuse of looking for Sunghoon, just so he wouldn’t be lonely.
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Ambessa treating reader like a prized pet please please please 😫🙏 and maybe also being very condescending and lowkey mean 🫣
Flaunted like a trophy
Ambessa.M x fem!reader
Warnings: Trophy reader, suggestive(very), Drabble.
There you were, in the bedchambers of the one and only Ambessa Medarda. You stood there, draped in the finest jewelry she could get, the softest fabrics and a personal stylist to meet your demanding fashion choice.
Spoiled rotten.
That's what you were, given everything you wanted on a golden platter- never settled for anything she deemed low quality. You had one job, very easy and simple considering that she made sure you did it every day- dress like a little trophy so she can flaunt you around.
Most people would've given up by now, having to constantly show out- even in private, making sure she liked your outfits. Being put on a strict care routine- all so she can brag about your beauty.
"Stunning."
Her voice rung through the large room, the glint of heavy golds and jewelry around the place partially blinding you at angles. You were posing infront of her, showing off the new outfits she had designed for you to last a month at most.
"Everyone's going to be set on you, my dear."
She stood up, placing her glass down to strut towards you, her rough hands tracing every stitch on the thing gold material. She only stopped when she made it to your breasts, examining you for a brief moment before snapping her fingers.
"It's not pushing them up enough, I want every aspect to be shown."
"I think there should be a deeper cut, they're out enough honestly."
You huffed out, shaking your head in annoyance with how it didn't fit the standard you had set, pouting from the simple mistake.
"We'll get it tailored, don't you worry y'little head off."
"Ugh, make sure it arrives back soon."
She turned to you, a brow raised at your sparky and demanding tone, running her larger hand on your cheek.
"Don't catch an attitude with me."
To anyone else, her voice was calm and hushed, but to you -she was giving you a clear warning, just do as you were required to and it won't be a problem.
"Hm."
Your eyes darted to the door, the guards standing there staring seemingly into the distance. Ambessa had lifted her other arm, waving them off so it could be just you two in the room.
"You know...I really like the gold on your skin, it really suits you."
She had led you over to the sofa, signaling for you to lay down besides her as she sat, leaning on the back rest.
"Strip, I..want to see how it would slip off your body."
Her dull attempt at a lie made you giggle, uncliping a few knots and buttons before sliding the dress off your body, Ambessa grabbing the clump of fabrics and tossing it aside.
You leaned back onto the sofa, spreading your legs in anticipation for her next moves, your arousal seeping through the thing lace pair of panties she picked for you.
"Ah...you are really inpatient huh?"
She chuckled, pulling you in my for a kiss by the back of the neck, her tongue slipping into your mouth. Pulling back for some air, she gave you a smug smirk before pulling back and standing at her full height.
"Get ready for tonight, mabye if your lucky...I could finish what we started."
She walked past you, her hand brushing past your shoulder before she left the room. Leaving you alone to cool down before getting redressed.
Oh, how you couldn't wait.!
#azana#x black reader#chubby!reader#black plus size reader#ambessa smut#ambessa medarda#arcane ambessa#ambessa league of legends#ambessa x reader
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Hiiii, i have request for a fem r x jinx, so like r and jinx have known each other alll their lives, maybe r is like sevika's niece or smth close, then when jinx gets adopted by silco, they ontinue to grow close until they become lovers, now you can do whatever you want here, just req that somehow r gets seperated with jinx and joins ekko and the professor breaking into the lab, which led to r joining then in the alt uni, the same time as ekko or maybe earlier, then au!jinx(she's alr r's gf in that au) suddenly gets worried or jealous cause ekko and r suddenly without any reason becomes close and starts spending time together, you can end it however u want, just give us a happy ending!! That's it rllyyy, thank you for reading this req, and it's ok if you can't do it, no pressureee
of course!! thank you for the request <3
this one is pretty long, sorry ^^; i just wanted to include everything and do your request justice
summary; sevika’s niece, jinx’s childhood best friend becomes jinx’s girlfriend. they get separated in the alternate universe, and powder grows jealous.
characters included; jinx, powder (act iii au), sevika (familial), ekko (platonic)
tags/warnings; fluff, hurt/comfort, s2 spoilers, idk if sevika has living relatives but we're making up a sibling for the story, mentions of death, arguing, mentions of drinking and smoking, jealous powder
men dni.
sevika has never been great with children. the day you were born, your small form writhing in her brother's arms as you cried, and cried, and cried, sevika didn't know what to do with herself. this was family. sevika was loyal to family. but she just... couldn't deal.
yet as you grew older, she grew used to it. whenever you went to auntie sev's, she pulled out whatever non-alcoholic drink she had for you, pouring it in a stained glass and sitting down opposite you at her table. she'd teach you to play card games- ones appropriate for children, of course. war, go fish, the like. nothing like the blackjack or poker that gave her a thrill under dim lights, but it was honestly... nice, to have this company. even if you were small and still struggling to speak for yourself.
she found herself growing comfortable with you. she had always loved you, had always cared for you. you were her niece. but the fact that you were still learning to navigate the world, learning how to be a person, scared sevika- especially considering the state of the undercity. how was a child supposed to thrive in such a troubled city? how were sevika and her brother supposed to protect you from the harm that inevitably comes everyone's way?
and then, you found a friend. a little girl, no more than a few months older than you, with turquoise hair and warm, sky-blue eyes. powder was her name. a playful, friendly girl who would play tag with you in the alleyways of the lanes. she showed you all of her contraptions, little bombs with scribbled drawings of various animals for faces. handmade. your young mind found this incredible. how could one girl have this much talent?
each day, after your lessons, you'd go to a specific place close to a boarded up, abandoned home in the outskirts of zaun. it became yours and your friend's designated spot. a spot where powder would train, punching and kicking at the air with a wide grin, you sitting and observing. a spot where she’d sit down and whistle her favorite songs painfully out of tune. a spot where you shared secrets, talked about her adventures with her siblings, and you shared your frustrations about stupid homework. you'd brag about how cool your auntie sevika was.
"she's just so strong! and she can fight off anyone. she plays games with me, and she helps me with my reading work. even if it's hard."
powder's eyes would widen, and she'd nod enthusiastically.
"really? she sounds awesome! maybe i'll get to fight like her one day..."
"why can't you?"
and then powder would grumble, her eyes flickering down as she folded her hands in her lap.
"my sister doesn't think i'm ready. she says i'm not experienced enough."
she makes air quotes when she says 'experienced enough,' huffing and rolling her eyes. you'd reach out to squeeze her shoulder, trying to give any kind of comfort. you weren't the best at offering consolation, but you could at least do this for her.
when powder came to that same spot a mere few weeks later, she was bursting at the seams with excitement. she couldn't stay still, and as soon as the girl saw you, she bolted in your direction. throwing her arms around you and squealing. you were confused- but powder was clearly happy, possibly the happiest you'd ever seen her. so you wrapped your arms around her in return. she pulled her face back, blue eyes sparkling.
"vi finally said i'm ready. i'm going on a job, tomorrow! topside! it's gonna be a good one."
powder was positively beaming, and you could only smile. you tried to find the words for a moment, although you were ecstatic for her.
"really? that's awesome!"
"mhm! she said she's gonna take me with the others, and i can help!"
powder heard violet's voice calling for her from the end of the alley, seemingly having searched for her. she looked back at you.
"i'll see you soon, okay?"
then, radio silence.
you visited your usual spot a few times after that, your heart wrenching in your chest upon seeing the spot powder usually occupied empty. you had heard rumors swirling around of powder being caught after her job, her sister growing angry. yet, you didn't want to believe it. powder was your best friend, she was amazing! there was nothing the girl couldn't do.
but it was true. your best friend, powder, didn't pull it off. an arrest. an explosion. what caused it? what happened to powder?
it was driving your mind wild, pulling you in different directions and eating at your insides. you asked around, other children of zaun, but each one ignored you, shook their head, shrugged, muttered a quiet 'i don't know.' it was killing you.
that was, until the next time you visited your aunt. you sat down at her dining table, cheap leather peeling off of the seat. uneven legs, heightening your fear of toppling over any time you shifted. sevika brewed coffee instead of lighting her usual cigar, her back turned to you as she slowly moved through the kitchen.
"hey, aunt sev?"
you asked, voice unsure. shaking.
"huh?"
she responded, her back still turned to you.
"you know my friend, powder. you've met her, haven't you?" you saw sevika pause, leaning over to brace her hands on the edge of the counter. "she's kinda... missing. do you know what happened?"
"i do."
she responded, tone blunt with a sharp edge. you winced at this, you knew just how scary your aunt could be if provoked. but you cared too much for powder, this was too important-
"she's with silco and i. he took her in. she's a problem."
"a problem?"
your heart sunk in your chest. god, how could your best friend be a problem?
"yes. she's distracting silco, but he insists that she'll be an asset."
"please, sev, tell me m-"
the woman turned her back and slammed an empty mug onto the table.
"i'm not talking about this anymore."
✧.*
the day after your seventeenth birthday was when you found powder- ‘jinx,’ they now called her. a dark alleyway in the outermost of zaun, not far off from your spot just a few years prior. you’d begun taking morning walks to clear your head of all the bullshit that came with being a young girl in the middle of a troubled city- one with a close relative who worked for silco of all people. to get the swirling anxiety, political unrest, friends disappearing left and right, all of it- out of your damn mind.
you’d experimented with walking routes, going through the lanes, through some of the highest roads in zaun, but none were quite as… peaceful as the outskirts. much more nature, less people, more tranquil than any other area. your head hung low, hands in your pocket, gaze on the ground. whistling.
you would recognize that sound anywhere. the same song powder used to always whistle, you heard it again. the tone was a bit deeper, a bit more raspy, but god, it had to be her. your head shot up, eyes darting around for the source of the song. busted windows, trash cans… blue braids.
your feet moved quicker than your mind could. you ran to the girl, breathless, throwing your arms around her.
and then she pushed you off of her, your back hitting the ground.
“powder- powder, what the fuck?! you don’t remember me?”
she stood over you, breath heaving, blue eyes boring directly through you. searching for any sign of danger or betrayal, studying your features…
“oh. oh.”
“powder, please-”
the girl yanked you up by your shoulders and got onto her knees, immediately pulling you into a bone-crushing hug. long nails dug into the fabric of your top.
“it’s jinx now.”
oh. oh god. you’d heard that name before. the name of a master criminal in the making, under the watchful eye of silco. his prodégé, his daughter. she had been powder, this entire time? under your nose for years, and you had no idea?
you wrapped your arms back around her, tentative, so scared to break her. the way she flinched told you all you needed to know.
“po-jinx, it’s okay… you’re okay…”
she only held you, her chin resting on your shoulder.
"a lot has changed."
"i know. but it's okay." you pause. "are you busy?"
jinx has her hands resting on your shoulders, pulling back the same way that she did the day before her job.
"no... no, not right now. why?"
the corner of your lips tug into a gentle smile.
"we have some catching up to do."
✧.*
the first thing jinx did was drag you around her newfound hideout. slim floors of metal with a seemingly endless drop below them, and a lack of railings. anxiety peaked as you walked through her home, but it was... charming. black lights paired with bright, colorful graffiti enhancing each surface. her face lit up as she showed you each of her handmade weapons.
you remembered the young powder with a single braid and defected color bombs, but these..? these were fully functioning explosives and assault weapons. god, where did she learn to do this?
"hey, whatcha thinking about?"
you're pulled out of your thoughts by one of jinx's fingers poking at your forehead. her blue eyes fixed on you...
"nothing. just... this is different."
jinx swings a leg over her seat at her workbench, picking up... a blowtorch?
"well, yeah. i told you things changed."
she quips, so nonchalant. how could she be so calm about her new lifestyle? it was such a drastic change, yet you couldn't help but... admire it. the environment surrounding you was a direct reflection of the person your friend had become. pilties feared her, zaunites revered her. to be able to make such a name for herself and have the unwavering sense of justice jinx had at such a young age was incredible to you.
god, jinx. she had really been staring you in the face for all of these years.
"tell me more.”
you said, slowly settling down beside her, bracing your elbows on the cold metal.
“oh, where to start?” she grinned. “well, right now i’m doing a lot in the way of enforcers and firelights. inventing, and all that. blowing stuff up.”
she giggled, not looking at you for a second. her thin hands held one of the very blue crystals a young powder held as if a precious amulet.
“and what about silco?”
“silco? he’s great! he’s always believed in me, said i’m smart and i can do whatever i put my mind to. he thinks i’m perfect.”
she hums, continuing to tinker away. your heart sinks the slightest bit. although silco was definitely a symbol of the undercity, he was feared. it just didn’t sit right with you. for him to have somebody like jinx in his grasp was frightening, but if she turned out relatively okay in the end, it was fine… right?
“oh, and sevika’s an ass.”
“my aunt?”
jinx turns to you suddenly, lifting her goggles off her face.
“since when is sevika your aunt?”
“…since i was born?”
you reply, raising an eyebrow… the same way sevika does with jinx. she folds over in a fit of laughter, her forehead on the workbench-
“oh, oh gods! that’s too good. how did i not know?”
✧.*
october 10.
jinx’s birthday.
jinx’s eighteenth birthday.
being slightly younger than her, you didn’t know exactly what was appropriate for an eighteenth birthday celebration. you were never good at birthdays to begin with. but you had to think, think. this is for jinx.
you’d grown accustomed to her new lifestyle, the mischief that followed her everywhere she went. whether she always found trouble or trouble always found her, you were unsure, but one thing was for certain: she had grown into one of the most badass women you’ve ever met. becoming close with her again, stepping into her shoes and experiencing a taste of jinx’s world, it was almost as if nothing had changed. in terms of your friendship, at least. she would still talk about her sister (although their relationship was less than ideal now), show you her contraptions, and whistle her favorite songs.
except for when you noticed your affections for jinx becoming something more than what was appropriate for friends.
curse you, curse you for falling for your childhood best friend. that was what you kept telling yourself. how could you fall for someone you had considered your best friend for so long? the thought of losing jinx again over something as trivial as a crush made your heart ache.
so you repressed it.
you repressed the way that your heart skipped a beat when she inched closer to you on her workbench.
you repressed the way her smile brought a swarm of butterflies to your stomach.
you repressed the way you wished to call her late at night just to hear her voice.
you repressed the way those blue eyes could make you give in to anything.
but that’s not important. no. what’s important is decorating jinx’s hideout while she’s out on a job for her birthday and throwing together a cake. pink and blue banners, big balloons with the number ‘18,’ crude paper-mache iterations of her monkey bombs, and making a gift.
you were hunched over your desk for hours trying to make her a charm bracelet, representative of your history. scrap metal from crushed cans, pliers, discarded chains, and acrylic paint could take you further than you expected. a mouse, for mouser. a blue ball, for her crystals. a can of spray paint. a bomb. a monkey. all little charms representative of what made jinx jinx.
did you burn yourself? yes. did you have to bandage yourself from getting cut by thin metal? also yes. but it was for her.
and a card. you decided in the days leading up to jinx’s birthday that you had to tell her somehow how you felt. it was eating up at you from the inside out.
when jinx arrived to her hideout, kicking the door open, it took a moment for her to notice that anything was different. somehow the streamers, candles, and smell of cake didn’t give it away, but she quickly strode over to you with the same jump in her step as always.
“heya t-”
and she finally noticed. glancing around at the handmade decorations on her workbench and the balloons, the pink and blue icing on her cake…
“oh. oh wow.”
she chuckled, in mild disbelief.
“wow, all of this for little ol’ me?”
you nodded, body tense with anticipation and anxiety. you knew the second she opened that card, everything would change. she sighed in that playful way she always did, and put her hands on her hips.
“okay. where to start?”
she glanced over the workbench. the cake, card, and small wrapped gift.
“well, it’s only right to start with the card.”
she sat down, and unceremoniously began tearing the envelope open at the top with her fingernails. not even using the flap in the back. you should’ve expected as much. she finally gets through to the card and looks at the front- a drawing of the two of you sat side by side.
“oh, this is cute!”
she beamed, and eagerly flipped the card open, and that’s when you saw blue eyes beginning to scan over the words inside.
“powder, rather jinx, i’m sorry that this is so sudden. eighteen is a big feat. you’re grown! and i’m proud of everything you’ve done. all the progress you’ve made for zaun, and all of the things you’ve come over. you’re a strong, smart, wonderful girl. but i need you to know that i’ve had feelings for you for a while now, and i can’t keep ignoring them. meeting you again and getting to know the person you’ve become has been one of the best experiences of my life. i wish i could spend those days alongside you as your girlfriend.
if you want to throw this card away and forget about it, i won’t be mad. just think about what i said.
-your best friend.”
her eyes scanned over the paper. again, and again, and again. did she really have to read it so many times? her brows furrowed, then raised, then furrowed again, before she glanced up at you.
“you… mean this?”
you let out a shaky breath.
“of course i mean it, jinx.”
you then felt thin, yet strong arms thrown around you and a head buried into your chest.
“i thought i was crazy…”
she murmurs, voice muffled by the thick fabric of your top. her tone is softer than usual, a side of her you’ve grown to realize is reserved for you only.
“crazy how?”
“crazy because i feel the same way.”
did the world stop?
was time hanging over your head?
“oh, god- jinx, you’re serious?”
you laughed, returning her embrace with tears pricking at your eyes. she squeezed you even tighter to her, beginning to pepper little kisses all over your face- no doubt leaving stains in their wake.
“ah! you still have a gift to open, jinx!”
you were mockingly protesting. in truth, you felt like you were floating.
“don’t care!”
✧.*
shortly after jinx’s own, your nineteenth birthday came and passed with jinx clinging to your arm. a day of being dragged through zaun tagging walls together, your girlfriend presenting you with a barely-edible cake, and rushed kisses on her couch.
which sevika walked in on.
regardless, you woke up to the sound of jinx’s deep breathing, close to your ear. still sleeping, her ear right up against the left side of your chest. you’d noticed she liked listening to your heartbeat, especially during late nights together. the first and only time you asked about it, she just said, ‘it’s relaxing.’ if anything could relax jinx, you’d do it.
you couldn’t move, not yet. you could only look down at the sleeping girl on top of you, snoring like an old man. if it were anybody else, you’d have stopped sharing a bed a long time ago. but jinx was kind of… endearing.
“mm… what time is it, toots?”
you heard her grumble.
“uh…” you moved your wrist from under her to glance at your wristwatch. “11:20.”
“ugh… it’s too early.”
“too early?”
“yes! i need to sleep more… five more minutes.”
one of jinx’s classic lies. but you let her, regardless, because who were you to deny a little longer of the girl you loved clinging to you? your free hand came to her lower back, your thumb rubbing gentle circles over soft skin.
“okay. then while you’re here, i need to tell you something.”
“mm… go ‘head.”
there was no easy way to put this, but you had to spit it out.
"i'm going to topside later. going to jayce's lab with ekko and the professor. they said there was something... important i needed to see. something about hextech."
with this, jinx's eyes fluttered open, looking up at you. thick brows furrowed.
"why?"
"something about hextech."
you repeated yourself. she grumbled.
"why d'you have to be the one to do it?"
your eyes widened for a moment. damn. you weren't sure how to answer this question, exactly. why did it have to be you? clearly, jinx wasn't asked about it if this is the first time she's hearing about it. but you knew it was important enough if you, a relatively ordinary citizen of zaun were asked to accompany heimerdinger and his newest student.
"i... i don't know. but it's important enough. i'll be a few hours tops, okay? a few hours, then i'll come back and be right here when you're ready to sleep. we can be just like-"
you pointed to her head still laying directly over your heart,
"this, again tonight."
jinx grumbled, slowly pulling herself away from your chest, bringing herself to loom over you. unkempt blue braids on either side of your face, rosy eyes locked on yours.
"fine. but you better be back when you say you'll be."
you reached up to place your hands on pale cheeks, tracing your thumbs underneath her eyes, still heavy with sleep.
"i'll be back before you know it, baby. it'll be like i never even left."
✧.*
the lab. the lab.
that's the last place you can remember being before waking up with a gasp. you felt as if you got a punch directly to the stomach, body reeling with the aftershocks of... something. all you could do was heave, pant, use your hands to brace yourself against a... bedside table? desperately trying to find some kind of support.
you slowly gain your composure. your breath coming to you in short gasps, as your eyes finally manage to scan your surroundings. a bedside table, a full-sized bed with blue sheets, a bookshelf with various travel guides and science textbooks scattered about. a corkboard on the wall, with photos of... you? and somebody else.
you stumble over the corkboard, slowly lifting your gaze. photo strips from photo booths hang on the board, as well as post-it notes with scribbled drawings. the pictures are of you, and a girl. a girl who, upon closer inspection, looks almost exactly like jinx. but not quite. her eyes didn't have those bags you'd grown accustomed to, and her face seemed fuller. she had a wide grin or silly expression plastered onto her face in almost every picture. the jinx you knew hated her picture being taken.
this girl's hair also was chopped to her shoulders. jinx kept her hair so long she had learned how to not trip over it. a gentle breeze sweeps the room, and the air is... more clear. not as overwhelming as the usual pollution of zaun. you think you can manage a deep breath in without feeling any side effects.
"there you are, silly!"
you hear from behind you. you snap your head over your shoulder with a gasp, and it's the girl from the pictures. oh, god.
she sets down a box on the bed, a few bolts spilling out from the cushion of the mattress.
"heh, whoops."
she chuckles, placing both hands on her hips. she really does look exactly like jinx. blue hair strung up into messy space buns and a little pink streak. that's new. you glance around at the room once again, noticing the corkboard. a drawing of you and the girl on a yellow post-it, with "POWDER" scribbled beneath it.
powder?
"what... what is this?"
you manage to breathe out. the girl- powder, strides over to you and wraps her arms around your shoulders from behind.
"only materials for my next big project! i told you about this. remember?"
she giggles, voice playing directly next to your ear. a chaste kiss to your cheek and a bubbly girl holding you. you raise an eyebrow, looking back at her. your shoulders tense, eyes blown wide. how could this have happened? didn't powder adopt the identity of jinx after that job?
"this is what happens when you pull a double two days in a row. i know you need the extra time, babe, but you're exhausted."
powder pinches your cheek between her forefinger and thumb. that same playful smile unwavering.
"come on, we've still got a lot to do today. we're talking some stuff over with benzo, remember?"
benzo? the benzo whose corpse you saw?
"i... okay. just give me a minute to freshen up."
you make your way down the hall to a bathroom. this place was set up like a goddamned labyrinth, but you managed. you look at yourself in the mirror.. your clothes seemed nicer. more tailor-fit. your skin was more clear, almost no blemishes or scars. your hair was a bit longer, you still had split ends- guess you could never be bothered to trim those in any world. but... this was different. you huff, deciding to cut your losses and just go to this meeting you apparently had planned.
as soon as you arrive to the last drop, it's like being flashbanged. your eyes widen at how much more bright the place seems. new booths and tables, it seems as if it's been recently renovated for the sake of modernity. and then you noticed vander.
you knew how much vander's loss affected jinx. she talked fondly of him often, but you could tell the fact that he was no longer here was killing jinx, no matter how much time had passed since that day. yet, here he was in the flesh, chatting away with a customer behind the bar as if nothing had happened. had anything happened?
"oh, oh my god. you're here. do you know what happened?"
your body jutted forward and you snapped your head around, your first instinct being to shove whoever was behind you. but you didn't thankfully. ekko.
"you're here too? shit, i don't know, i just- i woke up, and i was here, and everything's different, and everyone is acting different."
you muttered, beginning to pace around. the boy in front of you seemed stunned, shaking his head in disbelief.
"you don't know anything?"
"i'm just as confused as you are, ekko."
"sorry! ran a little late. you know how the streets get this time of day."
you heard from behind you, powder carrying a brown messenger bag.
"...jinx?"
powder just quirked an eyebrow, one of her signature confused expressions. she shakes her head, brushing off the fact and makes her way toward the bar. benzo's sat on one of the stools, waiting.
you shoot a glance in ekko's direction, mouthing 'sorry.'
✧.*
the second the meeting is over, you grab ekko by the arm and pull him into an alleyway behind the last drop. you sigh, letting his arm go, and he's visibly peeved.
"what the hell?!"
"i'm sorry, ekko, i just... this is all so weird. apparently powder never became jinx, and benzo is alive, and so are vander and silco and things just seem so... nice. i keep telling myself it isn't real, but i'm not waking up from whatever the fuck this is."
ekko looks down, his hand pressing into the spot below his eyebrows. he shakes his head.
"i talked to heimerdinger earlier. he said this is some kind of parallel universe. no hextech, so there's not a good chance of us getting back."
you swore you could've felt your stomach drop. oh no.
"how is there no hextech? are you serious?"
"i wouldn't lie about this."
"fuck. fuck."
you're tangling your hands in your hair, once again finding yourself pacing back and forth. the alleyway is clear aside from a few palettes and trash cans, yourself and ekko being the only occupying presence.
"we're trying to figure something out, together. but it's going to take a while."
your feet still, and you take a deep breath in. your lips press into a thin line. you don't exactly have it in you to be patient right now, but did you have another option?
"shit. okay. it's not like i've got any better ideas."
ekko sighs, his shoulders dropping. you glance over to him, and put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing in an effort to reassure him.
"i'll try and think of something, too. just keep me updated, okay?"
ekko gives you a small grin and nods.
"i will. it'll be alright- let's hope, at least."
your eyes wander over to the last drop's back door, and it's cracked open, with powder looking out.
shit. how long has she been there?
you walked to your apartment side-by-side with powder, but she seemed so... tense. she didn't look at you much during the walk back, which made you a bit fearful. she was so chipper just an hour or two ago, what happened?
you swung open the door after taking a few tries to find the correct key, something powder also noticed. thankfully, she didn't mention it, or you'd have a difficult time explaining.
you stepped in, taking off your jacket and dropping it on the arm of a leather couch. one that wasn't peeling.
"so, when did you and ekko get so close again?"
she asks, crossing her arms over her chest. this may not be jinx, but she has the same facial expressions. she thinks you're hiding something.
"huh? we've always been friends."
"you guys fell out two weeks ago and you swore you'd never talk to him again."
oh shit.
"you don't remember? i mean... i guess it makes sense, i thought it was just a misunderstanding. you're usually the one to talk things out."
huh? you and ekko were never particularly close, but you'd never had a falling out. shit, everything really was different here.
"yeah... uh, yeah. we made up."
you say, hoping to whatever was out there that she wouldn't catch onto the fact you didn't have a damn clue what she was talking about.
"huh."
she huffs, clearly unconvinced.
"what, powder? come on, you've gotta talk to me."
"ugh- that doesn't explain why you were touching him like that!"
she snaps, her voice raising, yet not quite yelling. the look in her eyes, she looks as if she's genuinely been betrayed.
"i.. what? i was touching his shoulder, powder."
"yeah, and yesterday you were resting against it. what next, you'll be kissing his neck?"
were you really? god dammit, you had no way of knowing what this other version of you was doing before-
"no! powder, no. i... i'm sorry. but you have to believe me, we're friends. we were discussing something important to us."
she rolls her eyes, tapping her foot against the ground.
"come on. i respect your privacy, i trust you to not cheat, but you've got to ease up on him. rather, he has to ease up on you."
"powder, nothing's happening."
she sighs, her head hanging down in defeat.
"you promise?"
"i promise you."
powder slowly steps closer to you, shaky hands slowly coming to cup both of your cheeks.
"i just don't want anything to happen between us, okay? things are good."
"they are. but nothing will happen."
as... unfamiliar as this is, this version of powder, this supposed life of yours, you couldn't deny that it was welcoming. in some ways, it was a lot better than the world you came from. the overrun streets of zaun, the political unrest of piltover, thousands addicted to shimmer and more friends dead than alive. you could get used to this, but you wouldn't.
you suppose it wouldn't be so bad to indulge yourself until ekko figured something out, though.
"hey. you still like wearing braids in your hair, don't you?"
powder hums, pursing her lips.
"uh... i haven't worn one since i was a kid, but sure."
you sigh, and gently take both of her hands in yours.
"come on. i'll do some twin braids on you, braid pink ribbon into your hair. does that sound alright?"
powder seems to perk up at this, blue eyes going wide.
"ribbons?"
"yeah. you've got that pink streak going on."
"oh... okay. sure. knock yourself out."
she squeezes your hands, smiling.
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without you + four
authors note: damn. it's been a minute. wanted to at least update this story for ya'll before christmas. i'll try my best to not make the next update take as long.
warnings: none
song inspo: be without you by mary j. blige
one + two + three
words: 5k
“Ooooh, this some nice white people shit.”
“Alexis!”
Leave it to this girl to always say some out of pocket shit at the wrong time. You offer an apologetic gaze to the workers who cast her an almost strange look at her outburst before elbowing your best friend. “Bitch, would you shut the fuck up.”
She sucks her teeth, offering an excuse versus an explanation. “What I say?” She gestures around the backyard that’s just about fully decorated. “You know black people. We usually got that one nice centerpiece of them big ass balloons and a Sam’s or Costco sheet cake for baby showers. That’s about it.” Rolling your eyes, she just has to add on. “It’s like when we have a funeral, and they done put Grandma Rose in them ghetto ass clouds talking about some sunrise to sunset.”
At that, you have to laugh. “Okay, you not wrong there.”
“I’m never wrong. Duh.”
“Whatever.” You take in once more just the opulent display that Alexis and Kaylah have been working on over the past few weeks. Initially, they wanted to find a venue to rent, but considering this baby shower will only include close friends and family, a venue seemed like too much. Not to mention that Joe has been adamant about trying to keep this pregnancy as private as possible. Not necessarily from a place of wanting to hide it. No, if that was the case, he wouldn’t have shared some of the maternity pictures you took not even two weeks ago to his Instagram.
Or even some faceless photos of Callie.
But, that’s something he can control. A sharing he has autonomy over and full say in. Paparazzi crashing your baby shower is not, thus the two of you deciding that the shower should just take place at your home.
And given the massive size of not only the actual house but your backyard, it’s a great decision.
“It’s all looking so nice.” Kaylah’s voice enters the conversation as she walks over, clipboard in hand and a smile on her face. “How you doing, mama bear?”
Rolling your eyes, you answer honestly, “feeling big and pregnant.”
“Well….”
“Shut up, Lex,” you mutter, rubbing your belly. “These babies have definitely been kicking my ass with this back and breast pain.”
Granted, being five months pregnant with triplets, it’s an expected sort of discomfort. It’s helped immensely to have a fiancé that’s home and attentive and always willing to do whatever he needs or rather, whatever you need. He’s taken over Callie duties on the evenings where you just feel tired. He cooks most nights, partially because he knows your feet hurt and are swollen usually. But also, that little traitorous little girl of yours has made it clear she prefers daddy’s food over mommy’s food. He’s even gone as far as calling your mom and asking for tips on how to do Callie’s hair, as your ever growing belly has made that a little bit more difficult.
Put simply, he continues to be the perfect man. You couldn’t have asked for a better partner in life.
Kaylah moves closer, hand on your stomach. She, along with other close family and friends, never need to ask. It’s just the strangers who you don’t know that need to stay six feet away at all times. “I can’t believe we’re only four months away from meeting them.”
Alexis shakes her head. “Earth, Wind, and Fire truly have no idea what kind of big ass, loving, chaotic family they’re about to be born into.”
Blowing out a breath, you scold her, “girl, how many times I gotta tell you to stop calling them that?”
“Would you prefer Thing 1, 2, and 3?” No answer is all the answer she needs. “That’s what I thought.” And, of course, she has to just sneak on in there another attempt. “If you would just tell me the sexes—”
“Ain’t happening.” You shut that shit down real fast. “Joe and I already made it clear. We’re not revealing that until the shower.” A special thing kept between yourself, your fiancé, and the child you already share, as Callie was present for your last checkup appointment where you were able to find out the sexes.
“Bitch, the shower is literally tomorrow.”
“And you, along with everyone else, will find out tomorrow then.” Alexis is visibly, playfully annoyed, as Kaylah only laughs.
“I understand. We’re just excited. That’s all.”
And, you get it. The farther along you get in your pregnancy, the more excitement you feel at getting to meet your babies. All the shopping, the setting up of the nurseries (you and Joe decided on two rooms), even the deciding of the names. Even more, it’s been so special to have a partner in all of this. You might not have gotten that with Callie, but you’re damn sure getting it now, and it feels good.
—------
“I don’t know if I should take her to Disney by myself.”
Joe’s seemingly random statement takes you by surprise. Turning to him with a frown, you ask, “what?”
He sighs, also angling his body to you while his focus remains on your belly. “You’re so far along in your pregnancy. Anything could happen.”
“But, it won’t,” you stress, reaching up to palm his cheek. “Joe, I’ll be fine. My mom will be here with me. Both Kaylah and Alexis are less than 15 minutes away. I won’t be alone.” Because that seems to be what he’s thinking. “I want you guys to go. She’s really looking forward to it, and not just because the kid lives and breathes Disney.” Largely thanks to yourself and your mom. “Plus, that’s what she wants for her birthday.”
“Or a puppy.”
“I swear to God, if you or your mini me bring up that damn puppy one more time.”
He chuckles and moves to kiss your temple. “Just don’t want to not be here if you need me…”
“I’ll always need you in one way or another, Joe.” The God’s honest truth. “But, our daughter needs you more, and I want her to get in as much one-one-time with you before the babies arrive and she suddenly has to share you with three siblings.”
He eyes you, recognizing the unspoken concern in your statement. “You still think she’s going to get jealous?”
“I know she is,” you answer, matter-of-factly. “She’s a little kid. A mama and daddy’s girl. It’s natural. We’ll just have to make sure we reassure and look out for any signs.” Though you know not everything can be caught, and kids are sometimes good at hiding what they don’t want their parents to see. Granted, Callie has always been pretty open with you, so you hope that doesn’t change.
As the two of you move back to folding clothes, you find yourself changing the subject, “also, not related, but before my baby brain kicks in, I was thinking, what if I applied for a job at her school?”
It’s something you thought about when you and Joe toured the private school that Ellie attends, a nice, expensive but safe option considering sending Callie to public school in the fall doesn't seem like the best or smartest move.
Working at your daughter’s school is also just something that would make you feel a little better. A new school. A new educational milestone. You wanna support her and be there for her as much as you can.
However, the less than thrilled look on Joe’s face definitely takes you by surprise.
“You’re gonna work?”
It’s such a simple but silly question that makes you scoff quietly, “of course. Why wouldn’t I?”
He shrugs, grabbing another item to fold. A part of you is wondering if you’re even going to have room for the gifts you’ll receive at the baby shower tomorrow. You two have already gotten so many things, clothes especially. “Maybe because we’re about to have three newborns.”
Rolling your eyes, you calmly counter, “No shit. I’m not thinking of going back right away. Maybe next fall. They’ll be one. Callie will be starting first grade, so it would be nice to be working at the place where she, and they, eventually, will be at.”
When he doesn’t say anything, you’re inclined to prompt a follow up when he finally breaks his silence. “I don’t know how that’s supposed to work.”
Frowning, you ask, “what do you mean?”
Joe sighs, an edge in his voice. “You seriously want to go back to work when we’ll have three one year-olds?” And before you can respond, he continues. “Who’s going to stay with them, Y/N? You’ll be working. I’ll be on the road—”
“It’s not like we’ll be working 24/7, Joe. And we’ve got a huge support system here. Your family. Kaylah. Alexis. It’s not like we’re alo—”
“You don't need to be working.”
Silence.
It’s a good minute before you speak again. “Excuse me?”
He blows out a breath, running a hand through his hair that’s down and hanging. “I want you to stay home with the kids full time—”
“Joe.” Cutting him off isn’t the best thing, but your emotion is starting to get the best of you. “You know me. You know damn well that I’m not the stay at home wife type. I’ve worked consistently since I was sixteen years-old, and I’m not about to stop just because you want me to.”
You love what you do. Teaching might be a stressful career, but it’s always been more rewarding than anything. And truth be told, you can’t imagine a life for yourself where you’re not doing it in some capacity.
Joe’s voice is even, his expression stern. “It’s not about me, Y/N. It’s about what’s best for the kids.”
“And if what was truly best for them is for me to be here full time, then I would do that, but it’s not necessary—”
“And that’s where I disagree with you,” he pushes back, angled completely toward you, arms crossed. He shrugs. “I think it is.”
Partially taken back by his stance on this, it still doesn’t prevent you from standing your ground. “Well then, I guess we’re not on the same page here then.”
“Not at all.”
It’s a strange thing, being on such opposite ends of the spectrum. Joe has always matched you so well, and unfortunately, that can include the level of stubbornness. He is never one to back down, but neither are you.
So where does that leave you two?
“Mommy.”
Callie’s quiet voice breaks the intense impasse. Clearing your throat, you turn to her and force a small smile. “What’s up, sis?”
She moves her hands behind her back, teetering up and down on the heels of her feet. “Will you color with me?”
An easy answer if it will get you out of this room that’s suddenly filled with an uncomfortable amount of tension.
“Callie, mommy and I need a few min—”
“Of course, I’ll color with you, baby.” Again, you fully recognize that cutting him off is rude and not the best way to handle this. A petty way, certainly. But, he also knows that when you get pissed off, it’s best to just give you some space.
Even if it’s not the best thing overall.
Not even bothering to look back at him, you walk over and take Callie’s hand, escorting you both out the room with another word.
Left alone with his thoughts, still irked at the conversation as a whole, Joe quickly and easily realizes telling you what he wanted you to do wasn’t the right approach.
He knows he has good reasons for his preferred plan regarding the whole work thing, but he also knows you, or should know you well enough, to know that trying to tell you what to do has never and will never end well.
It’s just he definitely wasn’t expecting your approach and outlook on this job thing, even if it makes sense for your character and what he knows about you. There was just this part of him that was thinking you’d maybe take a couple years off before returning to teaching. Wait until the kids are a little older. That makes most sense to him, and he’s sure if he maybe responded better and was cleared on his reasoning, you’d have been a bit more receptive.
Maybe not have walked out.
Joe’s phone dinging in his pocket prompts him to pull it out.
Megan: Hey there! Just wanted to follow up and let you know the housing and travel arrangements are all finalized.
Megan: Though I’m curious, you requested a house instead of an apartment?
Megan: That’s a lot of room for just one man. 😉
Joe does find the added emoji a little strange, maybe unprofessional by some standards, but it’s the least of his worries right now.
Joe: Thank you for the update. My fiancée and daughter will be coming to visit when I have to stay for a few days for filming. Need the room for them.
And, it’s not set to happen very often, his management working with the film execs for a schedule that’s pretty flexible and allows him to be back home the same day for most of the filming. It’s just those few instances where he has to stay overnight, a couple days even, that he and you decided would be the times where you and Callie would stay with him.
Megan: Oh.
For some reason, Megan's response rubs him the wrong way, which is strange because up until this point, he’s had no issues with the young woman. She’s been professional, helpful, and informative.
Megan: I think it’s so cool how family oriented you are. So freaking sweet.
Joe truly has no idea how to respond to that, because it’s not inherently wrong. If anything, it’s just a compliment, but there’s something about it…
Megan: Anyways, won’t keep ya! Hope you have a great rest of your evening, babe! ❤️
It’s that message, however, that crosses the line, prompting him to reply and remind her of his boundaries.
And her place.
Joe: As you said, I’m very family oriented, so I’d prefer if you didn’t call me that. The emoji is also inappropriate and makes me uncomfortable.
Someone never uncomfortable with setting a boundary, he feels nothing when he sees the typing bubble appear and reappear several times before her response slides in.
Megan: I am SO SO sorry. I’m so used to working with women, so my dialogue is sometimes women coded. Again, my apologies. Have a great evening, Joe.
It’s a response that he appreciates and doesn’t feel the need to respond to. He said what he needed to stay. She apologized and made it right. It’s all water under the bridge.
Joe goes to lock his phone and put it away when a thought crosses his mind.
You have his passcode, are free to go through his phone, not something that you’ve ever done but something he doesn’t care about regardless. However, if you were to go through it for some reason, seeing this exchange could most definitely make you feel some type of way.
And, it’s not that he feels guilty, Joe knows he handled it appropriately and accurately. But, he doesn’t want you getting upset, doesn’t need you experiencing any kind of unnecessary stress.
Something he’s already inadvertently contributed to by not handing your argument a few minutes ago correctly.
None of that is good for you, and especially not for the babies, and when it comes to this pregnancy, he's not taking any risks.
Especially not with you as far along as you are.
Joe ultimately decides to delete the last three texts, letting the conversation stop at the “family oriented” comment from Megan.
Again, he doesn’t need a situation that’s not even a real situation being an issue.
It’s just better this way.
—------
You’re touching up your makeup, about to apply another coat of mascara to add the finishing touches to the complete look for the baby shower when you take a moment to appreciate your appearance. The white dress is beautiful against your melanin, and your mom did the damn thing with your hair. Ultimately deciding to wear your hair natural, mama opted to put it up in a beautiful, fancy updo that perfectly frames and highlights your beat face.
The final product is something stunning and perfect, the ideal look you wanted and were aiming for on this big, special day.
A knock on the bathroom door prompts you to lift your gaze to the mirror where you’re met with the lingering stare of your handsome fiancé.
Taking in his outfit, a white, short sleeved button up shirt, khaki shorts, topped off with white and gold Nike Freeks, a small smile falls on your face. It’s the perfect look for him. So Joe.
He walks in and closes the door behind him, coming to stand behind you. Your eyes shut as he holds you, hand on your bump, head in the crook of your neck.
“You look beautiful,” he compliments with a kiss pressed against your moisturized skin.
“Thank you, baby,” you murmur, reaching up and caressing the back of his head. “I’m sorry….”
“Naw, I’m sorry,” he interrupts in an equal voice, carefully turning you around as looks down with an apologetic countenance. “It wasn’t right for me to try to tell you what to do.”
“Maybe, but I wasn’t exactly trying to be receptive.” Sleeping on it helped you arrive at that realization that with all of the glaring, embarrassing clarity. “I think I’m so used to doing things my way that I forgot it isn’t just about me and what I want, it’s about us and what works for my family.”
“I don’t want to take away from your autonomy, Y/N.”
“I know that, Leati.” Hand moving to palm his face, you remind, “but these babies mean we’re all going to have to adjust one way or another. I might have to take some time off from working full time.”
Because as much as you love what you do, Joe was right in that your kids might need you to be home more. Full time, even. And while it would definitely feel a little off going into a school year and not having a classroom to call yours, taking care of your children and making sure they’re straight would more than fill that void.
“And, I’m going to see about making my part time schedule permanent,” he shares, moving his hand to your hip, giving a gentle squeeze when you open your mouth to protest. “It’s what I want, babe. I told you before, I don’t want to miss anything else.” He leans forward and kisses your forehead, suggesting, “maybe you could do something part time?”
“Maybe.” You shrug, reassuring, “regardless, we’ll figure it out and do what’s best not for you or for me but for our family.”
Because that’s what most important. Doing what’s best not for one but for all of you.
“We will,” he agrees, brushing his lips against yours, “I don’t ever want to go to bed not on good terms again, you understand me?”
Your thighs shouldn’t clench together the way they do at his commanding tone. It’s a serious thing that you agree with, but it’s the combination of his hard body against yours, his cologne invading your senses, and his minty breath against your face that has you pushing back….something.
“Yes, daddy.” A cheeky, double entendre that has his eyes narrowing.
There's something so innocent yet downright filthy as he promises in a darkened voice, “you know Imma fuck the shit out of you when all is said and done today, right?”
Fuck.
More fluttering, even if it’s something you already know. Because it’s been three days, and that’s far too long to go without your favorite pastime.
Hand moving over his crotch, you palm his dick through his pants. “Good, cause mama needs her fill.” Licking your lips, you add, “if we had time, I’d suck your dick right now.”
Because five months pregnant or not, so long as you can find a way to have this man inside of you, that’s exactly what you gon’ do. You both love sex too much to go too long without it. And, you both know the window in which you can realistically be sexually active during this pregnancy is waning, so you’ve gotta make the most of the time you do have.
Joe’s glare is light and teasing. “You such a nasty lil’ thing, you know that?”
Smiling and moving your arms around his neck, you cheekily remind him, “but that’s part of why you love me, ain’t it? Because I match your freak. Because mama loves when daddy puts her in her place. Ties, whips and bondage included….”
“Fuck, Y/N, you tryna make me hard?” A rhetorical but also serious question as he drops his hand to your backside, taking a handful of your supple ass in his big hands. “Want daddy to fuck his pussy with all them people down there and outside waiting for u—”
Several hard knocks on the door followed by a familiar voice. “Mommy! Daddy!” A smile breaks on your face as he closes his eyes, clearly trying to settle himself. “Grandma says it’s time!”
Laughing quietly, you call out, “okay, baby. We’ll be out in a few minutes.”
And, of course, your forever inquisitive child has to ask, “what are you guys doing?”
Joe chuckles and slaps your ass before moving to open the door, a grinning Callie smiling even harder as she looks up at her favorite person. “Daddy!”
Reaching for him, Joe doesn’t hesitate to lean over and pick her up. Your smile grows at the sight of Callie dressed in her adorable white and gold dress, your mom also styling her curls into two big pom poms.
She looks so much like Joe in this moment.
Callie gasps and compliments, “mommy! You look so pretty!”
“Thank you, Callie Bear.” You move over and kiss her cheek, deciding your current look is good enough.
It’s time to celebrate your growing family.
—------
The Baby Shower is something out of a dream.
Beautifully decorated, whites, blues, and pinks spread across your backyard, the aesthetic is very Pinterest aligned and everything you could have imagined for a day meant to celebrate the three lives you’ve created.
Guests including several members of Joe’s family like his mom and sisters, Jon and Josh and their families. Alexis, too, of course. Jadah was invited but unable to make it due to work obligations. Regardless, it’s a wonderful outcome, being surrounded by all the people you love the most here to be with you during this great time in your lives.
It’s a lot of laughter, a ton of great food, a tremendous amount of gifts, and an abundance of love that's felt from the moment you, Joe, and Callie walk out to the sound of Baby by Ashanti playing. Continues as there’s a damn near mass chorus that’s formed when When I See You by Fantasia comes on.
And the classic dances such as the Wobble and Electric Slide to Candy by Cameo that you most definitely get your big and pregnant ass to partake in.
But, one of your favorite parts has to be the photo station, several photos taken of yourself and Joe, various shots of his hands placed protectively over your stomach. Callie joins you for a couple photos as well, though it’s not missed upon you when she makes a face after one of Joe’s sisters jokingly makes a comment to her about “not being the only kiddo in the house anymore.”
It’s something you’ll certainly circle back around to at the end of the party, and it’s a time that’s nearing as the three of you start to kick off the moment everyone has been waiting for.
Joe’s deep voice travels across the spacious yard as he keeps an arm around you, Callie holds onto his shirt and stands on the other side of him. “We just want to thank all of you for taking time out to be here with us today.”
“You already know we weren’t about to miss this,” Trinity shouts.
Jon laughs and adds, “hell no. Can’t remember the last time we had a set of triplets join the family.”
“That’s cause it don’t happen a lot in general,” Alexis chimes, sipping on her Henny. “But Big Di—”
“Like Joe said,” you cut her off, already knowing where that was going. “We’re so happy and blessed to have you all in our lives, and it means the world to us that our children, the babies and Callie, have so many people who love them just as much as we do.”
Because knowing these amazing, wonderful people love your kids, even the ones that haven’t even arrived yet, as much as you and Joe do, truly is the best thing ever.
“But, we all know what ya’ll really wanna know,” Joe chuckles. “You wanna know the genders.”
A round of agreement prompts laughter with someone shouting out “hell yeah!” and Josh saying something about “winning the bet.”
As one of the workers brings over the three sets of balloons and pins, you and Joe make sure Callie has the right one before you take over. “Alright, is everyone ready?”
“Girl, would you hurry up? The new season of Baddies drops tonight!”
“Alexis, shut the hell up,” you laugh, shaking your head before turning to Joe. With a head nod, volume increased, you start with an excited tone, “the first baby is…..” And a small second of intentional delay before you pop the balloon, revealing blue confetti.
More rounds of applause and cheers as Joe proudly announces, “a boy.”
“I knew it!”
“The Tribal Chief got a tribal heir!”
“Whew, sis, start them kegel exercises now!”
When the celebration dies down, Joe and Callie focus on you for your turn. You lift up the balloon as he kicks off this time, “the second baby is….” Another intentional delay followed by a pop, revealing more blue confetti.
Eyes watering, you share loudly and proudly, “another boy!”
The pure excitement on everyone's face, including your mom who has silent tears streaming down her face, has you blotting at your eyes. This moment couldn’t be anymore perfect.
Joe moves to pick up Callie, kissing her cheek, asking, “you ready, Callie Bear?” She nods with excitement, you and Joe speaking in synchronization as you stand close to him with your hand on his stomach, “and the third baby is…..” Callie counts to three, closes her eyes, and pops the balloon.
And as pink confetti blends with the blue, she shouts with all the happiness, “a baby girl!”
The crowd of family and friends is the loudest during the last and final reaction, deepening your happiness, mimicking that of which was felt when Dr. Young revealed the sexes to you at your last appointment.
Two boys and one girl is literally perfect.
Your little family truly is truly going to be complete.
“And,” you cut through the cheers, one glance at your fiancé and daughter before you continue. “We have another surprise for ya’ll.”
“Don’t tell me there’s a fourth!”
Rolling your eyes at Jon, you cut right to it, “we’ve decided to share the names we’ve picked out.”
Gasps and excitement go around, Joe once again being the one to start off. “The firstborn boy will be named Iosefa Anoa’i.”
Iosefa.
The Samoan variation of the name Joseph.
Gaze on Joe, it fills your heart with so much love to see and hear the pride in his voice and on his face. Having one of your sons named after him is the least you can do for this man.
It’s what he deserves.
Clearing your throat, you provide the second name. “The second baby boy will be named Isaiah Anoa’i.” A strong, Biblical name. A name given in honor of your mom who has always loved said name. A moving gesture she clearly recognizes given the way she places both hands over her heart, mouthing ‘thank you.’
You mouth, 'I love you, too' back as both yourself and Joe redirect your focus to Callie for her big moment.
She giggles when Joe tickles her stomach before yelling, “and my baby sister will be named Moana Anoa’i!”
Deciding on names was such an intimate, thoughtful, moving process, and while they may not be as alike or even common as most triplet names, they mean something to you, Joe, and even Callie, who both yourself and your husband decided to let name her sister.
Callie is your firstborn, special to both of you in ways that you can’t describe, so giving her that only felt right.
And as you re-enter the group of friends and family who have gathered here for this special occasion, you can’t help but imagine what that’s going to be like when it happens again. On a different day. For a different reason. A year or so away, when you stand before them and God and take the man who completes you as your better half.
A beautiful day indeed, even if it’s more for show and aesthetic anyway.
Because unbeknownst to most of the guests, outside of Callie, your mom, and Joe’s mom, you have an appointment at the courthouse tomorrow morning at 10am sharp.
Because after tomorrow, not only will you and Joe Anoa’i share children.
You’ll share last names.
Because tomorrow is your wedding day.
You’ll officially be Mrs. Y/N Anoa’i.
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Vil being Tamayo kind of implies that Neige is some sort of Muzan figure, hilarious as that is. Demon RSA. They get to be the baddies for once. (Does this make Chenya Douma then? 🤔)
BUT ALSO…
UPPER MOON LEONA!!!! I’m thinking of him and Falena having a sort of Kokushibo and Yoriichi situation. Strongest Demon Slayer Falena, who loved his little brother so much he could not bear to kill him.
LeoYuu. Leona taking a nap in some random secluded village during the day, and Yuu, unknowing peasant girl, accidentally steps on his clothes. The start of a beautiful relationship 🥹
Riddle feels like he would be Rui in the AU of an AU. It’s kind of fitting as well considering Riddle was the first overblot faced while Rui was the first Demon Moon faced. Heartslabyul Spider(?) Family?
Vil and Rook being Daki and Gyutaro. Vil who only eats beautiful people. Rook, who says he prefers to eat beautiful people but will eat just about anyone with no discrimination because “BEAUTE! 100 points!” Alternatively, Gyokko Rook.
Hantengu Idia… maybe?
Muzan Crowley going “Aren’t I so kind~” every time he turns someone into a demon.
Sorry for the long ask!
DON'T BE SORRY I LOVED IT FORL START TO FINISH OMG
OK OK, NEIGE IS NOT MUZAN. Buuuut... he IS a demon! AND YEP RSA BOYS ARE THE BADDIES FOR ONCE!!!! (I got so happy when I read this one I swear I felt like I wasn't insane by trying to imply this)
Tho Neige does look like rui (I wanted to get some of the spider design of him). But he's actually more on a Daki like role. He's inspired by jorogumo (spider demon on Japanese culture), which often takes the appearance of a beautiful woman. I'm still thinking how exactly his arc will work, so I can't say much besides Vil still hates him. 💅
Chenya is a demon whose resembles a cat (resembles cause he does not have ears that just his hair in here) AND he's very important to riddle's backstory — I can say that this is my favorite one till now tho.
Dramatic pause cause I'm about to gush over EVERYTHING NOW.
YES YES UPPER MOON LEONA IS LIKE MY SIDE HUSBAND AT THIS POINT AND YES I rrly like that idea????? Plus Farena would fit yorichi like a glove too AND GOOD I LOVE THE DOOMED SIBLINGS TROUPE 😭😭😭😭😭😭
Honestly I'm very into the fact that if they meet as Leona as demon yuu would be turned into one too, just to make sure the slayers don't hurt his human to get him???! (But I also I'm rlly into the "turn me into a demon" "no" "turn me into a demon" "no" turn me in-" "FOR GODS SAKE NO")
OMG, YES. Not only that, but riddle ministering the rules over spider!heartslabyul family would be so interesting. I'm going for Trey as dad, Cater as mom as Ace and Deuce as older brothers (tho I feel like these two would be way more destructive than necessary). But demon riddle would also be a insane adversary if you don't have the mommy issues card to throw at him.
I HAVE NOTHING TO SAY ABOUT VIL AND ROOK AS GYUTARO AND DAKI IS ALREDY PERFECT AS IT IS.
Tho gyokko rook WOULD be amazing cause only rook could pull of gyokko weird ass and still make sense??? But Mostly he would make people into art into a way of making them beautiful forever?? (Much like sasori from naruto with his "art is eternal" thing)
HATENGU IDIA IS THE ULTIMATE ONE THO. Not only that, but to have five/six versions of Idia, and his stronger and younger one would still be Ortho WOULD MAKE IT EVEN MORE WILD. Bonus point if real Ortho was killed by him after being turned into a demon.
You got me with muzan!Crowley I'm definitely making this real in the au (it actually makes him even more sinister? I can handle muzan choking but I draw the line at Crowley ACTUALLY think he is kind when he's destroying lives (he's prettier doing it tho)
#I LOVED THIS ASK SO MUCH#THANK YOU FOR THE ASK DARLING💜💜#twisted wonderland#ask.txt#demon slayer!au
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Wolfgang Akire through the lens of the law: an analysis
i would like to give a disclaimer that while im very interested in the law, im not a lawyer or in law school. my knowledge comes from the few law classes i have taken, participation in a couple mock trials, and some personal research, so please take this with a grain of salt! if im missing something or saying something inaccurate, please let me know! i am always open to learning more!! not to mention this is my understanding of law in the United States, so this may differ by country.
in the end, this isn’t meant to be too serious, just using the knowledge i do have and applying it to p:eg!!!
okay now spoilers for the prologue and all of chapter 1!
well ig before we get into it let me say rest in peace a king... I will miss you, you hypocritical bastard........
alright, so firstly, let’s consider Wolfgang’s character profile.
two things stand out to me here. the first is how he has “successfully defended over 200 of his clients without dropping a single case.” we can infer that Wolfgang is a criminal defense attorney. it’s possible he could be a lawyer in the civil law sector instead, but considering his strong feelings about murder and crime, and the fact that this is Danganronpa, it leads me to believe he is a criminal attorney for the sake of relevance (I don't think any of us would care if he were a corporate attorney after all).
now, that sentence you just read is particularly interesting in the case of Wolfgang Akire. From the prologue's mock trial, we can see that Wolfgang feels very passionately about murder, condemning the murderer even without insight as to why they committed the crime, instead big on retribution and justice (which the definition of could definitely be debated). Yet, as a defense lawyer, Wolfgang would have been defending people from criminal accusations, from anything to armed robbery, arson, or murder. we’re not particularly sure on his view of other crime, but we can assume he also has a similarly negative view of it that he has of murder. out of 200 people (within such a short time span of finishing law school too), what are the odds that out of all 200, not one of them was actually guilty? of course, lawyers have the ability to drop or not take on cases, but as his profile says, he hasn’t dropped a single case! it’s quite possible he had complete faith that every client was innocent, but with the evidence and files he’d have to go through, he had to have seen something that was damning and prepared accordingly to address in the most sympathetic way possible to avoid prosecution winning their case. and that's the thing with Wolfgang; his job requires building sympathy for the accused, and it requires sowing seeds of doubt in prosecution's case. there had to have been someone that he was defending from an accurate charge(s). so whether he knew it or not, he has very likely defended people guilty of crime; and yet, he still feels very adamantly against them.
Here's where I fall short on my analysis; I honestly do not know what to make of this conclusion. his behavior and his ideals are almost contradictory in a sense. is this insight to wolfgang's clear hypocrisy? but what does that really say about him? I'd love to know what any of y'all think in regards to this :0
Now, the second thing that stands out to me is that he wants to make sure that everyone is fairly represented and make sure logic and evidence drive the discussion. While this does seem to be true, the mock trial shows that he lets his feelings become a big part of the discussion as well. everything he does screams prosecutor to me, so it was shocking to find out he works as defense. Wolfgang has a very interesting way of viewing things, almost dichotomous, unlike what his profile says. it's similar to the format of a trial, where it's not meant to be a team working together to find the complexities and nuance within a certain issue, but rather an attempt to prove your point and disprove the other side. trials aren't supposed to be a discussion where everyone reaches the truth together (Danganronpa trials are not very accurate but of course I don't think they were intended to be in the first place), they are for you to win your case-- as a defense attorney, its poking as many holes into the prosecution’s case as possible. (little fun side note, this is very similar to how debate works; Wolfgang and Damon are a lot more alike than one would originally think.)
Considering all of this, it makes me wonder if Wolfgang was intentionally trying to split the group apart,,,, because it's easier. because it makes more sense. as defense, lawyers may pin the crime on another, but without the burden of proof that prosecution does, they can sling out accusations to increase doubt on prosecutions case without having to actually prove it (that would be left for a separate case). it's easier to divide a group and have a bunch of people follow you while isolating the 'other side', and with that division made, it's more likely someone you isolated will be the 'villian' anyways; and in this case, this was true-- Eva, who has been socially ostracized her whole life, was driven to murder to protect herself from the blinding fear that everyone was out for her (even if that wasn't entirely true). this could be just how Wolfgang has gotten used to going through his life. maybe the bad habits he picked up from his father were the divisive kind of us vs them mindset lawyers have to have in a courtroom.
speaking of his father, let's address the motive-- there's so many things that Wolfgang's blackmail could be about; faking his law degree, not taking the bar exam, defending horrible people, the list goes on. Honestly, a scenario i have considered is that it's about him defending his father for a crime he actually did commit, yet winning the case; or his father commuting a crime in general and winning his case, leaving Wolfgang conflicted as that is the sort of thing he does all the time, yet his father had just taken away his mothers life and gotten free (this is very much just me guessing a possibility though). when Wolfgang was hallucinating, he says he's not like them (to diana who he thinks is someone else) and he'll never be like them; It's most likely that he saw his father. the theory I'm going with right now is that his father was at the very least heavily involved in the likely murder of his mother (thus bring her back in reference to his mom). his father was probably also a lawyer and may have pushed wolfgang into going into the field himself, especially when he sent him to law school as a teenager. maybe Wolfgang wanted to live up to the expectations his father had of him. who knows exactly what Wolfgang wanted everyone to know him as, it was probably a long the lines of a competent lawyer. but, as of right now it's all speculation (objection! haha.... that was not funny my bad), so again, I'd love to hear some thoughts.
Another little funny thing i'd like to note is when Damon and Eva come back to the dinning hall and Wolfgang asks where they've been, Damon responds saying it was for discussing the motive. He's internally smug about how defeated Wolfgang seemed to be by that, and I thought that the funniest shit; very similar to being on cross examination, thinking you have the witness in your hands, when suddenly they wiggle out of your accusation. he's so real for that.
that is pretty much all i've got so far! let me know what y'all think and thanks for reading!!! :)
#project eden's garden#p:eg#project eden's garden chapter 1 spoilers#p:eg chapter 1 spoilers#Wolfgang akire#damon maitsu#eva tsunaka#character analysis#criminal law#project edens garden#p:eg spoilers#p:eg chapter 1#would love some input!!! :)
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notes: time is a construct that bten!reader no longer understands. anyway, yes hellow, late gojo birthday fic that i am pretending that i'm not posting on megumi's birthday LMAO.
takes place in the same universe as beyond the unending night, however reading that fic is not necessary, all you need to know is that reader has a CT that can rewind time. slight and implied reader x gojo if you're squinting. also. reader is very unreliable narrator (there are some things in the narration that gojo responds to because reader is unaware they said it aloud oops.) not proofread.
wc: 944
“Your birthday was a couple days ago?”
Gojo tilts his head toward you, expression passive for a split second before a broad grin spreads across his face. “It was! How did you know! Wait, let me guess, you—”
“The students,” you supply flatly before he can make any outlandish suggestions regarding how you happened across the information. “Yuta-kun mentioned it.”
There’s a slight pucker to Gojo’s lips, but it’s gone almost instantly as he remarks. “Oh Yuta… He’s always been an exemplary student! Even going so far as to remember his dear old teacher’s birthday…”
You stare at Gojo. There’s a trap here. Bait. It’s not well hidden either, if his exaggerated tone is any indication. You consider telling him straight up: it’s not possible to remember something you never knew in the first place. But instead, you decide to indulge him. “Do people usually not remember?”
Now that you say that, you find the words hard to believe. You can barely call yourself a part of jujutsu society, but there’s no denying that Gojo is something of a big deal. There’s no way that these illustrious ‘higher ups’ would forget the birthday of someone as important as Satoru Gojo.
“It’s not that they don’t remember,” Gojo says, “it’s that they just don’t care.”
The nonchalance in his voice stuns you, more so than the fact that you cannot detect even a hint of bitterness in it. They… don’t care? You want to be in denial, to think that that simply cannot be true. And yet…
You cannot deny it.
Not when you know what you do of the top brass.
“Well, not the students,” Gojo adds, fondness seeping into his tone as the tiniest smile pulls at the corner of his mouth. “Threw me a party and everything. As expected of students of the Great Teacher Gojo!”
He puffs his chest out a little, clearly pleased, no doubt proud.
“...did you do anything else?” you ask. Knowing someone as whimsical as Gojo, you can imagine him spending the day as he pleased, going from sweet shop to sweet shop spending exorbitant amounts of money on any and every sugary item he could possibly get his hands on.
“Nope.”
You blink at him. “What.”
“I was waaaaaay too busy to do anything else,” Gojo says with a dramatic sigh. “Honestly, I’m lucky that the students love me so much that they took on a couple extra missions just so we could party for a half hour.”
Gojo’s words have you gawking at him, slack jawed and in awe. You’re well aware that he’s a busy guy, but to only have had a half hour of free time on his birthday to celebrate is just…
“Don’t make that face.” His voice is quiet. Gentle. “It’s fine; I’m used to it. Just a part of being an adult, you know?”
He’s not wrong, but…
Somehow, it doesn’t sit well with you.
“....you’re done with everything you have to do today, right?” you ask, reaching into your pocket to check the time; it’s nearly midnight.
“Yeah?” Gojo answers, and while he sounds mostly amused, you think you can hear the smallest hint of confusion. “You thinking of having a late night snack together to make up for missing my birthday? How romantic of you!”
“Not exactly,” you shoot back without missing a beat, but Gojo doesn’t seem to be disappointed by you rebuffing him. You outstretch your palm toward him and he inclines his head down slightly to show that he’s looking down at it.
Gojo hums. He knows what you’re thinking. Of course he does. “You know that’s technically against the rules.”
“And?” you ask as you stare back at him.
“You could get in biiiiiiig trouble, you know.”
Your gaze doesn’t waver.
“Could even be sentenced to death for it!”
Your hand doesn’t move.
Gojo tilts his head to the side before heaving a sigh and shaking his head. He raises his hand, but rather than take yours, he reaches up higher and moves to flick your forehead. That would work just as well, and for a split second you gather your cursed energy, ready to use your technique, but—
You merely wince and Gojo tilts his head to the side, raising an eyebrow as your energy quickly dissipates.
“Change your mind?” he asks.
“Wasn’t sure if you were actually going to do it,” you answer honestly. Did he actually flick you or did he just ‘pretend’ to? There wouldn't have been any point if he pretended.
“What do you think?”
You frown as a playful, yet menacing grin spreads across Gojo's face. He knows full well that you can't tell, especially if you can't even see the point of contact.
“Well wishes aside, the only other thing I can really offer you is time,” you deadpan. It wasn't like you were going to be stupid and give him a week or even a month, but…
Gojo wags his finger at you, tutting. “No, not true! There's something else!”
You give him a pointed look. What else could you possibly give?
“Well, it's really more like an IOU,” he explains airily, before his tone shifts, growing quieter and more serious. “Just get stronger. Strong enough to take on missions just like me and maybe next year we can have a longer party.”
You sigh. His suggestion is more practical, more useful in the long run, and while you can agree with what he's proposed… It's his birthday. He could afford to be a little more selfish.
“Oh?” He raises an eyebrow, his smile ever wide and absolutely ominous. “I'll keep that in mind next time.”
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My favorite thing about platonic JayVik is that it’s very similar to my relationship with my best friend, she’s my soulmate and I’d genuinely do anything for her, I would personally do everything Jayce did to get Viktor back in season 2 if I was in his position with my best friend. That being said my best friend and I have lived our whole lives with people thinking we romantically liked each other, I once had a hilarious conversation with her 5 year old niece asking if I was her boyfriend. We’ve considered ourselves a queer platonic relationship in the past and honestly that doesn’t even describe it perfectly, but in my eyes a well-written friendship will always look at least a little romantic to the outside perspective. Maybe there’s something to say about how people view intimacy like that nowadays but regardless, Viktor and Jayce’s story can really be viewed romantically or platonically and it doesn’t take away anything from the narrative or plot, if anything it makes it stronger because real love doesn’t have such simple labels, sometimes you are simply just partners in a world where no one else believes in you like that one person does and it’s that a beautiful?
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DPxDC Hogwarts AU [pt. 2]
The second time they meet, Tim actually knows a little more than nothing about him.
He knows Daniel is Vladimir Masters godson, set to inherit the man's title, and he knows that his birth parents are both wizards, albeit eccentric ones. No one would tell him how they are eccentric, not to mention why.
He knows the boy is a second child among the three, and his older sister is going to Hogwarts next year while his younger one had just turned five. And Daniel himself is seven, just like Tim, which means they will be in the same year eventually. He doesn't know whether he likes that or not.
He doesn't know nearly enough about him to form an opinion.
What he does know, though, is that he absolutely doesn't like Samantha Manson.
Mother had met Mr. and Mrs. Manson at that same party that Daniel kind of ruined (Father's words, not his, Tim thinks that elephant trunks were an improvement), and, upon finding out that they have a daughter Tim's age, decided they should be friends. Which is how Tim found himself sitting in an offensively pink room on an uncomfortably soft pink couch that is threatening to swallow him whole, right across a girl in a pink dress and with a pink bow in her hair. Granted, they are all different shades of pink, but Tim still feels very out of place in his black pants and pale blue shirt with a tight collar.
However, the most unsettling part about all this is that Samantha hadn't said a single word in about ten minutes - so, since they were left alone in this horror of a room by their respective mothers - and Tim is fairly certain she hadn't blinked once, and she is glaring something awful at Tim. For all that he knows, she is probably coming up with a detailed plan of burying his dead body in the garden.
Tim honestly tried to start a conversation. Twice. The girl looked like she didn't even notice, so Tim just kind of resigned to his fate and decided to simply wait until this was over.
He really regrets not bringing a book with him.
Another few minutes pass in silence, interrupted only by some cheerful chirping of birds outside. And then, right as Tim starts to actually consider flopping down on the soft pillows behind him and falling asleep, he hears a knock.
Samantha turns her head to the window so quickly that Tim is afraid her neck will snap. But, as he follows her example and looks outside, he can't help but blink in surprise.
Daniel Fenton, wearing some kind of red jacket with a hood - definitely muggle by the looks of it - is hovering just outside the window. On a broom. They are seven, they are not supposed to have brooms yet! Or, at least, not the ones that can go all the way up to the window on the second floor!
"Bloody finally," Samantha rolls her eyes and jumps off her seat, nearly running towards the window, "What took you so long?" She demands an answer in a snappish tone that allows no excuses.
Daniel grins and shrugs, "Jazz almost caught me sneaking out," he explains, but his gaze is not on Samantha. Instead, he is looking over her shoulder, right at Tim, before asking, "Who's that?"
The girl turns around and scowls, "A boy that my Mum wants me to marry."
Tim sputters, feeling his cheeks heat up, but not out of embarrassment; it's mostly just frustration. She most definitely does not, they are seven, and their mothers can't be making plans like that!
Can they?..
Daniel laughs, bringing the broom closer to the window and setting one foot on the widowsill for balance.
"I would have invited you with us, but I only have one broom," he tells Tim, still smiling. Tim bites his lip.
He wants to go with them so badly. They look like whatever they are about to do is going to be way more interesting than Tim's whole life. But Mother will probably be upset, and-
"Don't bother, he is boring," Samantha huffs dismissively as she pulls the skirt of her dress up and climbs out the window, carefully holding on to Daniel's shoulder as she gets on the broom behind him.
For some reason, that makes Tim angry.
He sticks his chin up higher, straightening up in his seat and frowning. "I don't see how your inevitable fall from a broom is interesting anyway," he drawls, far more mean and uncaring than he wanted to.
"See? Boring," Samantha smirks, but Daniel just looks a bit confused and thrown off.
"I'm not gonna fall," he tells Tim with a certainty that makes Tim kind of want to apologize. But the girl behind him is still smiling like she won something, and Tim is not about to back down now.
"Live with that illusion all you want," he huffs and turns away, still keeping his back straight.
"Come on, Danny, let's go," Samantha urges her friend impatiently, and Tim is decidedly not looking in that direction. He doesn't want either of them to see him pouting. Also, maybe he just doesn't want to see them fly away.
But he still hears a quiet "Bye," from the window before the room goes back to silence, interrupted only by the chirping birds and rustling leaves.
When, mere moments later, Tim looks back to the window, both of them are gone without a trace.
—☆—☆—☆—
Visuals!
The offensively pink room and the way to escape:
Tim's opinion on Sam:
[Picrew]
—☆—☆—☆—
More notes on the people and the world around:
Mansons are, actually, filthy rich. They are a wizarding family, but they are way less concerned about blood purity than people expect them to be. A part of their business involves muggle products, and while they don't advertise it, they don't try to hide it either. Jeremy never attended Hogwarts, he was a Beuxbatons student, and Pamela was a Slytherin. Both of them don't exactly like Danny for separate reasons, but Pam likes to keep Vlad as a friend, and if that means letting Sam be friends with his godson, then so be it. She still tries to keep their contact to a minimum, but it's not like Danny - or Sam, for that matter - cares.
Janet and Pamela did not, in fact, plan to marry their kids; they just liked each other enough to have tea together and decided to combine it with throwing their children at each other. Although Pam does consider Tim a fitting pair for her daughter. Janet is of a different opinion.
The broom Danny took actually belongs to Jack - or, it belonged to him a few years ago, up until Danny realized the kiddie broom is not fun anymore. Jazz is constantly scared he is going to fall and break his neck, but Maddie thinks her son is good enough of a flyer. Besides, even if they did take the broom from Danny, he would just find a different thing to break his neck with, so Maddie just put a bunch of disillusionment charms on the poor broom so Danny won't be noticed by muggles and called it a day.
This is very much not the first time Danny comes to save Sam like she's a maiden in a tower. Also, Sam is not mean out of nowhere, she just likes Danny and hates sharing, and she is seven.
[<- part 1 | part 3 ->]
#danny phantom#dpxdc#dc x dp#tim drake#sam manson#hp#hogwarts au#cork writes#cork prompts#i have an idea of how to include danny's ghostliness in this#but be warned#it most likely wont make sense#also how are we feeling about fentons working for ministry?#im torn#also yes dani is here#and maybe dan as well but im not sure yet
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Okay, let's unpack this response here
TL;DR: 'weak and surface' level is exactly how I would describe prevs "obliteration". I'm not convinced THEY read the books. Or maybe they're just another TERF, considering that's how it reads. I completely disagree with Harry naming his kid after Snape. The ONLY explanation I can think for it is that JKR has no idea what love is (which is also cannon, as far as I'm concerned)
First: idk what book this person read, but Snape's obsession with Lily was creepy to the extreme. That their friendship started by him all but stalking her and Petunia should have been red flag #1. I mean, sure, he was a traumatized kid without friends, but that doesn't absolve him of his continued obsession. He literally stood outside the Gryffindor common room, refusing to leave, until she came out to talk.
And yeah, he did switch sides out of guilt. But he canonically didn't give a damn about Harry. If he was actually trying to protect the kid, he would have done more than bully and abuse (occlumency lessons anyone?) the kid. Teaching at Hogwarts was never about redemption. It was about staying out of Azkaban. (And Dumbledore's manipulation, but he's a whole 'nother can of worms)
Second: the books actually say that Snape was 'up to his nose in the dark arts'. He was an active participant. He didn't just 'hang out' with to-be-DE, he WAS one. He joined up of his own free will. He became Voldemort's RIGHT HAND. He didn't regret calling someone a mudbl***. He regretted that it was Lily.
And Snape CANONICALLY attacked the marauders just as much as they went after him. Just because they went after him first in that ONE memory, doesn't mean he didn't instigate too.
And let's talk about the werewolf incident for a minute because i am sick and tired of Snape Apologists using this as an excuse. That was NOT planned. That was a lapse of judgement on Sirius' part alone (yeah, fucked to hell and he is fully responsible for that). At the same time though, NO ONE MADE HIM GO. Snape was given a vague instruction and he was so focused on 'getting back' at the marauders that he put HIMSELF in danger. That is just as much on him as it is on Sirius.
Then the sexual assault? This is another common thing I see and it took me forever to figure out what it was even referring to. The pantsing? You cannot tell me he was the only one that happened to. If the levitating spell was really as popular as it's stated, this incident wasn't special. I'm willing to bet Snape did it to others too.
Third: Lupin not taking the wolfsbane. Yes, serious lapse in judgement. He also just saw Peter and Sirius on the map. The argument of it being criminal and a ticking time bomb is honestly werewolf prejudice and exactly why Remus has such a hard time finding a job in the first place. Way to go. You've discovered discrimination.
Fourth: Get McGonagall's name out of your fucking mouth. She is CANONICALLY shown NOT showing prejudice and treating EVERYONE by the same standards. And, did you forget that 'Moody' here was actually a death eater in disguise? No duh he's using cruel and unusual punishments??? Full of abusive teachers my ass.
Fifth: What do you mean the kids weren't scared for life? I do believe those CHILDREN will carry that trauma with them for the rest of their lives. Saying that it didn't break them is cruel and completely dismisses the VERY REAL pain and suffering that they went through. They are real heroes because they OVERCAME their trials. Not all of us out here in the real world are so lucky.
Lastly: yes, comparing CHILDREN who DID see the error of their ways to an ADULT who had to be CONNED into doing the right thing is laughable.
And saying Regulus accomplished nothing? Disgraceful. Of course it took a catalyst for him to change his ways thats how redemption arcs work.
If you made it this far, I hope you have a good day. Believe whatever you want, obvy I'm not going to change anyone's opinion. You can't MAKE a person understand. Still, it's nice to rant and remind myself how nice it is that I live in my own little corner of the fandom where I don't have to see this bullshit on my dash
okay, hold my drink *hands u cursed ancient goblet full of mead* i gotta talk my shit for a second.
ive been seeing a lot of severus snape love recently. and this is fine, obviously, y'all can love whomever you want. but. i need to rant or i will explode. if we're talking about canon. severus snape spends his adult years, seven books of it in fact, abusing children. and his excuse for this is the girl he loved (tho not enough not to join a group actively trying to exterminate her) fell for the hot jock instead of him (a tragedy indeed, i weep 4 him, i really do). and also she died, which, admittedly is very sad.
it is simply crazy 2 me 2 look at that and think *romance* or *genuine care and affection*. LIKE. fo real. snape calls her a slur in public, apologizes in private, hangs out with dudes who commit hate crimes against her friends (CANONICALLY, she says "you've been hanging out with that douchebag Mulciber, how could you do that after what he did to Mary???" this is not a direct quote but like, it's close enough). lame. loser behaviour.
"Oh but what about regulus" i can hear you say "he loves James potter but snape doesn't love lily???" well. idk. maybe. bit different tho, innit? due to james not being the demographic regulus is attacking (which doesn't make regulus a better person but does make the dynamic between him and james different). ALSO. Regulus chooses to turn against voldemort without hope for anything in return. snape doesn't seem to give a shit about voldemort, he's just sad he's not gonna get to bang lily evans. he switches sides for that reason alone. also doesn't care about what happens to her husband or her son which like. considering lily would be pretty fucking destroyed if they died. once again points to my whole, he doesn't really give a shit about her, theory. lame. loser. behaviour.
also. im sorry. I"M SORRY. but what snape does to neville? to hermione? to harry? gross. a grown ass man out here telling an eleven year old neville he's worthless or hermione she's ugly and annoying. or spilling harry's potion and refusing to grade him for it???????????????
reg and draco are children when we see them at peak suckage and therefore they feel like they can be redeemed much more compellingly (CAN be, not SHOULD be, not HAVE to be, just narratively i think they are easier to turn into interesting, sympathetic characters). but snape? snape grows up into a garbage adult. like he doesn't get better. and again, the only real excuse we're given is his obsession with lily. not very demure. not very cutesy.
ALSO. yall remember that time he got a destitute, struggling Remus Lupin fired from the best job he ever had just because he felt like it? remember that time snape weaponized Remus's lycanthropy and people's prejudice against him just cause. like. literally just cause??? his ego was bruised after the shrieking shack incident so he was like "get wrecked Lupin I'm going to tell everyone your secret so you will be forced back out onto the streets" DO YALL REMEMBER THAT BITCH ASS MOVE????????? THAT HE DID AS A FULL ADULT.
IN CONCLUSION, this is silly and, of course, like i said at the start, everyone can have their own thoughts and feelings about characters, but i simply needed to interject here on behalf of snape haters everywhere because i feel like so much of snape's shitty behaviour as an adult during a time when he was really under no duress and was very safe and cozy, is ignored. and my hater heart just cannot let that stand.
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Hi! How are you? Just wanted to say I absolutely love your writing! ❤️❤️
I have kind of a weird request: I’m a psych student, and I’ve been studying disorders for a test, so now it feels like that’s all I can think about lol. I was wondering if you’d ever consider dipping into the DSM world and writing something about sexual dysfunctions?
No worries if it’s not your vibe—totally get it! Sending love either way 💕
🎀 Premature ejaculation 🎀
words: 923
a/n: Hello, sweetie!🥰 I absolutely adored your request—it really challenged me (in the best way, lol). I did a quick dive into the diagnostic criteria and tried to keep things light and fun 💕.
Hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Had so much fun with this one ✨. Sending you all the love and kisses 😘❤️
Anakin couldn't quite explain how it had happened. One moment he was sitting in the Jedi Temple's dining hall, swallowing that horrible ration that looked more like sawdust, mentally complaining about how the food looked almost— if not worse— than the ones he had eaten as a child on Tatooine.
Then he found himself at the heart of a feast. Your Jedi robes were beneath your beautiful body as you lay on his bed, the bandages you had used to support your chest laying on the floor, your lovely breasts rising and falling with the movement of your breathing, which was accelerating under his eyes.
A mist of disbelief and yearning hazed Anakin's blue eyes. He couldn't believe how fortunate he was to have you so needy and willing for him.
"Kriffing, you're so beautiful," He gently said as he reached out to touch your nude body. Almost as if he was terrified of contaminating such a masterpiece with his humanity, his fingertips sought your smooth skin with care.
The sweet noises that escaped your lips were a magnanimous reward for the young padawan; his groin went crazy when he touched your tummy and your eyes closed, going all the way down to the curvature of your hips.
Your moist folds welcomed him like tongues of fire, warming his whole body as his fingers found your warm embrace. An erection appeared as his blood seemed to boil and pool in his cock.
Your fingertips brushed his trousers so softly that Anakin vowed he wouldn't have noticed if it weren't for the way the force was so filled with you. It was overwhelming; he didn't even have to close his eyes to feel you everywhere, in every way, like the fireplace flames that are constantly there even though their intensity fluctuates.
Squeezing his eyes tight, Anakin tried to concentrate on what he was doing, on how your heat encircled his fingers like a velvet blanket and how your spongy walls held him like fire embers on dry straw, searing everything without mercy or rest.
Not that he wanted to stop; honestly, he had stopped wanting for a long time ago, You were a need; He needed you like the oxygen he breathed, just as plants need the sun to thrive and the oceans need the moon to deliver their tides.
Without you, nothing existed because you were everything. Anakin slid two fingers within you, encouraged by the graceful gasps that poured from your pink lips like divine tunes composed just for him.
He didn't know exactly what he was doing; he had never done anything like this before. Of course, like any teenager with hormones in full swing, especially padawans who are taught from an early age that they should not indulge their carnal desires, he had previously resolved that minor issue in his groin.
Whether it was touching himself in the shower, his hand clutching his cock under the water spray till he felt his release trickle down the drain with the foam, or thrusting his hips against the mattress, grinding his erect cock beneath his Jedi robes.
Anakin had already pictured what it would be like to touch you, to feel your body writhing above him or under him; it didn't matter as long as it was with you; the rest was a mere detail, irrelevant.
Reality, however, was far superior to his most vivid dreams; the way your pussy welcomed his fingers and squeezed them like quicksand caused his eyes to roll with the rush of ecstasy.He could cum right there; Anakin slid with such ease that he let out a low sigh as he twisted his fingers in and out of your moist folds.
As his orgasm struck him like an avalanche, he felt his legs sway, his hips stutter, a flashing white blurring his eyesight, and colorful stars flashing in his head. His brain was a heated, disorganized mass, and it took him a few seconds to process what had happened.
He had cum before he had done anything, without even taking off his clothing, and it was the damp sensation in his pants that jolted him back to reality. Just the sensation of you on his fingertips carried him to paradise, and since he had nothing to cling to, he let himself be pulled along."
"I'm sorry, I, I didn't mean to..." Anakin's blush rose on his neck and spread over his cheeks as he apologized profoundly.He felt so ashamed that he was unable to look you in the eyes. You smiled gently, your eyes holding a compassionate, kind light that made him release the breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
"It's okay, Ani," you assured him softly, your hand cupping his cheek affectionately, the heat of his embarrassment warming your skin. "We can try again if you want."
Anakin was still ashamed; it was an extremely awkward situation, embarrassing. imagine cumming before even having sex properly, in front of the girl he still liked. Kriffing.
Yet, he seemed to feel less insecure and doubtful than before; the warmth in your eyes and the assurance your grin transmitted were plenty.
"I'll be better next time," Anakin assured, his voice low but laced with dedication, confident that he would give you pleasure and transport you to paradise as effortlessly as you had pushed him.
"I know you will," you assured affably,a loving smile spreading over your pink lips. Anakin thought he could get lost as often as you did, and you would always find him.
#anakin skywalker x you#padawan anakin#anakin x reader#anakin smut#Aotc!Anakin X reader#anakin skywalker x reader#star wars#hayden christensen x reader#hayden christensen#request#requests open#requests are open
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Ashen Knight 13
RK: *blinking* Could you repeat that, sir?
Jacques: I... Never wanted to marry Willow, Jaune. *Chuckle* Honestly, i thought for a long time you were seeing her.
RK: ... You never wanted to marry Willow? Didn't you say you love her?
Jacques: I- *sigh* Jaune, i'll be the most honest i've ever been in my life; i can't feel attraction to women.
RK: ... *Realising what Jacques just said* O-oh! I... Wasn't expecting that, sir.
Jacques: *sigh* I love seeing her smile and being happy, but i'm unable to love her as a husband. Oh and yes, Willow is aware of this. It would be difficult not to, considering all our kids were made in-vitro... *Looking at the window* I love them, i really do... And i wish for them to have something like the SDC of old to inherit.
RK: That's... Wow. But then, why didn't you divorce her?
Jacques: *sigh* After the death of her father, Willow never really recovered. She began drinking, more and more and the SDC was slowly fading into obscurity. I just... I wanted to bring it back. And the best way was to "marry" her.
???: Father?
Jacques: *looking up behind Jaune* Winter!? W-why are you here?! Shouldn't you be studying?
Winter: *entering the room sheepishly* I... I thought you hated us... You never spent time with us and the rare cases i tried talking to you about the company, you seemed angry...
Jacques: W-what!? No! How could i hate any of you! It's just that the company isn't doing great and... *Sigh* I'm unhappy. *Getting up, walking to Winter and putting a hand on her shoulder* But it never was your fault.
Winter: B-but when i asked if i could become a specialist-
Jacques: *grumble* I'm still not thrilled about that decision of yours. *Sigh* You have to understand; Specialist is a dangerous job and i don't want you to get hurt... Not because you are the heir, but because you are my daughter.
Winter: *looking at the ground* And when i asked about the faunus...
Jacques: About the faunus? When did you ask ke about them?
Winter: A-a year ago? It was during the big manifestation, y-you said they should be fed to the pigs! That they are lower than even animals!
Jacques: Fed to the... *Chuckle, then laugh* Winter, i wasn't talking about the faunus! I was talking about the council! *Shaking his head* I was wondering why you left so soon. Guess you didn't hear the beginning of my rants, eh?
Winter: *blinking* Whu... But i thought...
Jacques: Winter, i worked with faunus all my life. Heck, more than half of our staff are faunus and i think they aren't displeased... At least, i hope. *Look at Jaune*
RK: Only complaint they have are about the mines, but since i explained your side of the story, they have calmed down.
Jacques: *nod* Danke schön, Jaune... By the way, i wanted to ask why i found a Jackalope inside on my property.
Rk: *sweating* A Jackalope? Sir, those do not -
Jacques: *chuckle* You do know the kids love talking about their heroes, right?
RK: ... Since when-
Jacques: Second day, or well, when i first saw you in flesh and bones.
RK: ... I really need to find a way to hide her.
Jacques: You can use the old barn, nobody use it.
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𝅄 ׅ⊹ ۪ ꣑୧ dance of the sugarplum fairy
𝝑𝝔 l.mh x f!reader
𝝑𝝔 synopsis : Minho believes in fact over fiction. He's a scientist. It's practically in his blood. You're as much of a scientist as he is, hell, a better one than him at that. Yet, you still find wonder in the holidays. While you find wonder in presents and twinkling lights. Minho finds wonder in you. Could a confession gone wrong end up going right for him? Could you reciprocate his feelings that he's been pushing down for years and years?
𝝑𝝔 warnings : chemistry professor!minho, chemistry professor!reader, f!reader, mutual pining, christmas in a non-religious way, crying (in a sappy way), jisung! cameo, tooth rotting fluff, smut got mixed in with my fluff??, no clear dynamics, but minho is mommy (sorry guys act fucking surprised), mommy!kink, shower sex, p in v (unprotected, pls don't do this!!), pet names, pls lmk if I missed any warnings!!
𝝑𝝔 note from the author ! : Calliope once again indulges in soft!minho and doesn't apologize for it >_< I hope everyone is having a wonderful holiday season and that all who celebrate Christmas get exactly what they wanted!! :3
You're as reactive as Fluorine, and Minho wishes he didn't think of you chemically the way he does. He wishes he didn't immediately think of you when he thought of work and his experiments and the fucking teaching position he held. He wishes he could just think of you for you and he could go fuck off for all he cares - having a crush on his coworker.
And you're humming along to the song playing over the radio - some Clario song, he only knows who that is because you love her music. Honestly, he thinks you like music more than you like chemistry - so why did you choose to do this for a living?
You surely weren't a bad singer - Minho had heard you sing, it puts the harked herald angels to shame if he does say so - and you certainly were pretty enough to be famous.
Pretty was an understatement, you were the most devine creation to walk this earth. There's no way in his mind that he can conceptualize that you breathe the same oxygen as him - to him it was a privilege that he got to see you at all.
You were sought after, every fucking college in the nation wants you to work for them, yet you stay here. It wasn't like the place you work at is bad, it's MIT for Christ's sake, but Harvard has been asking for you for years.
He's almost offended by it, colleges treating you and all your brilliance like a tradeable Pokémon card.
Speaking of Pokémon, you're watching it on your phone as you finish up a lab report. How you can listen to music and watch a show and write a detailed report baffles Minho, but he doesn't question you because you're you, and he's the utter fool in love with you.
"You're spacing out Minho," your voice graces his ears, fuck, was he staring at you? "You look like you need a coffee, let's go get a cup, I'll pay."
You smile that sweet smile and talk in your sweet voice any longer and he's sure he's going to go insane. You're letting your hair down and it falls just right, framing your face perfectly. You had curled it that morning, and worn a perfume that smells like autumn.
He knows it's ridiculously foolish to consider something a chance that is nothing but stolen glances and blush stained cheeks and private thoughts. He can't help it.
"I think Jisung needs to start letting you get some sleep, you're zoning out so much," you hum with such concern, and he crumbles.
He feels almost dirty. Dirty for the thoughts he has of you. Dirty for the reason he isn't getting much sleep. Thinking about you in ways that would terrify a Catholic, or hell, even an atheist.
"'t's not Jisung," he slurs his words together.
They become a wet mix of vowels and articulations when he's talking to you. He hopes he doesn't sound this fucking dumb when he is teaching.
"Maybe you're sick," you tilt your head.
It's a habit you have, tilting your head when you make a statement. He finds it endearing. It was one of the first things about you that he perceived as such.
"'m fine, promise," he brushes off, "'nd I don' need any coffee."
"Well, you better wake up before the festival," you sigh, and he hates to think he let you down.
The festival, fuck, that is today. Each year the college throws a winter festival for the students, a lot of sororities and fraternities set up booths and the cafeteria gets turned upside down with decorations. The faculty's Secret Santa too, shit, he hasn't wrapped his gift. He really doesn't hate the festival or the idea of it, it keeps him young. He just doesn't know if he is gonna be able to stay around you any longer.
"Who did you get for Secret Santa?" you ask, taking a seat at the table, returning to your lab reports.
"Jus' Lix," he hates how drunk he sounds, "what about you? You always go above and beyond in the gift department."
He would never lie to you, you do go above and beyond with gifts. Each year, you go all out, spending a ridiculous amount of time and effort when it comes to the gifts you buy for people.
"Can't say unfortunately," you whisper, "or else it wouldn't be a secret."
You give him a smile that makes his stomach do a flip. "But I did get you something," you perk up.
You walk over to your bag and pull out a wrapped parcel, and carefully hand it over to him. "Thought you'd like it, took forever for it to ship over from overseas."
Minho examines the neatly wrapped box, wrapped in pink wrapping paper with a pink bow tied on top of the box. "Thank you," he sounds breathless.
He opens it carefully, and is met with a white box. He pulls the lid off and pulls out the cloth that sits on the bottom of the box. Revealing a white lab coat. The fabric is crisp and ironed. In the corner the text 'Dr. Minho Lee, PhD' is embroidered in black. Underneath the lettering is another embroidered patch. Instead of his name though, it's his three cats. Each of the cats looks identical to their real counterparts. "Sorry if it's stupid, I-" you apologize, "I just- I dunno-"
Stupid? It's the most thoughtful gift he has gotten in a long time. It comes from your heart, how could it be stupid.
You're the most beautiful and thoughtful person he's ever met. I love you, loved you for so long, he thinks to himself. He's so moved he almost feels like crying.
"Minho," you're quiet, stunned into silence.
He just realizes how his mouth has betrayed his mind, and his legs are moving with a panic.
The air is so damn dense as he sprints down the hall from the lab. The white fluorescent lights taunt him with their hum as he dashes away. Away from you, away from the chance that was all in his head.
He is gripping at the tie around his neck. He sees no comfort in the double doors out of the science lab, he is running without reason.
He breaks through the double doors and is soaked almost instantly. The snow is heavy and it patters against his body.
His legs stop moving, and he just stands there. In the snow. Terribly cold and terribly wet. He could curse God, but he doesn't believe in Him.
The doors behind him open and close. Doom blooms in his rapidly rising and falling chest. "Minho," it's you again, "Minho, you'll catch a cold."
His legs are frozen through. He couldn't move if there were a bear chasing him. He can't speak either. He's rendered silent. "Minho, it's about fucking time you confessed, b-because I-I l-love you too."
He can suddenly find the strength to face you.
When he does, the first thing he notices is your face. Mascara has soaked your cheeks, tear stains evident. "Y-huh? Wh-why are you c-crying?"
"Because I fucking love you," you sound weak- Minho never heard your voice sound so scared, "a-and you love me too? Did you mean it? You love me too?"
You're equally as soaked by the snow as he is. Your arms are crossed over your chest. He moves before he thinks, there really is nothing to think.
Hypothesis : you want him to kiss you. And according to the scientific method, he must test his hypothesis.
He's putting one foot in front of the other and moving to you. He wastes no time, simply cupping your face and pulling you in for a kiss.
Sparks fly like shown in movies, his lips feel tingly and he can feel his heartbeat in every bone of his body.
Your lips are even softer than he imagined. Soft and molding against his own in ways that make him dizzy.
Like throwing a block of lithium into a pond, he feels like he may explode. Every atom in his body is undergoing a chain reaction that is so right he would never stop it.
"Love you," he's mumbling against your lips, "loved you for so long. You're everything I've ever wanted."
Tears brim his lashes, they nearly fall, but he is too elated to cry. "Minho," your voice is muffled by the sloppy kisses you're placing on his lips. You let out a groan and Minho's composure crumbles.
"Always been you," you hum, "since I met you, no one else."
All he had known until now had been decomposed and resynthesized. Like a chemical equation. He hates that he still thinks of you chemically.
Yet, he'd count every atom in your body so he could find out why you're so you. He's tear apart the heavens and the earth and chemically rearrange them just to see you smile.
Your bodies are melting together, forming a mixture of desperation, love, and lust. His hands are gripping every inch of your soft flesh available.
"Minho- mhm- take m-me home," you whimper into his mouth.
He kisses you one last time. He knows he will have this life, and the next to kiss you, he's in no rush.
His eyes finally open again, and he swears he has never seen a more beautiful sight. Your makeup is running down your face, and your lips are kiss bitten. Your body is pressed against his, and your hands are cupping his jaw. "H-home?" He stutters like a little kid.
"Your house," you grin, and he swears there's a mischievous glint in your eyes, "unless you don't wanna see me naked?"
If his jaw hadn't been on the floor before, it definitely was now. "God," he groans, "c'mon."
He's pulling you along with him, in the pouring snow, to his apartment. "If I catch a cold because of you, Lee Minho," you vaguely threaten.
"Then I'll nurse you back to health," he immediately replies.
You're both placing one foot in front of the other at a fast pace. When he sees his apartment around the corner, his heart thumps rapidly in his chest.
He doesn't struggle with the keys even though his hands are shaking beyond reasonable doubt. The warmth and comfort from his home is nothing compared to that which he gets from you.
He's stepping inside and pulling you in with him before slamming the door closed. A sudden fear rises in his chest, and any semblance of what to do next faded from his mind.
You notice this, you notice everything. "You okay?" you press your body against him.
You're both soaked from head to toe in cold water, yet you're so warm against him. "I-I?" he's stunned, like a dear in headlights.
You try and fail to hide the disappointment in your tone when you say, "do you not want t-"
He doesn't even leg you finish the sentence, "-I do. I do. I do. I-It's just not supposed to hap-happen like this."
"Please explain?"
"I - I have pictured, I've thought about us- us doing this, and I-I feel like I'm doing it wrong," you search his eyes for a clue as to what he means, "I mean-I just thought it would be so much more, romantic. N-not the confession, the- I just want to make it perfect for you."
"And how would you do that?"
"With rose petals and red wine and candles and-"
You shut him up with a kiss that is broken all too soon for Minho's preference, "you're such a dork, oh my god," you sigh playfully and hit his chest lightly, "I don't want roses or red wine, or candles. Minho, I want you. That's it."
"I-I," he stutters and can feel his cheeks heating up, "w-we should hop in the shower?"
"Excellent idea," you smirk.
Minho takes your hand in his and leads you to his bathroom, "sorry for the mess," he apologizes but knows that you won't mind.
He takes his eyes off you for only a moment to turn on the warm water, and when he turns back to you, you're halfway undressed. He swears he's never seen anything as beautiful as you.
You with your shirt and skirt in a heap on the floor, the only thing covering you is your underwear. Black cotton panties with lace hemmed on the side and a matching black bra.
You're reaching behind your back to unclasp your bra when he speaks up, "let me."
You smile at him and turn around, Minho's lips ghost down the side of your neck while his hands busy themselves, taking off your bra. He kisses down the back of your neck and your body shudders against his own.
You eagerly flip around and press your lips against his own. Now it's your hands that are pulling at his soaked shirt. You break the kiss but only for a moment, only so you can take off his shirt.
"Mhm," you moan into his mouth and Minho's grabbing at your sides like a madman.
His fingers hook under your panties and pull them down your legs.
And he finally gets a good look at your most sacred parts. They're more beautiful than his mind has ever painted them to be. Your breasts are soft to his touch, not too big nor too small. And your cunt, it looks tastier than a Sunday dinner in his eyes. His eyes rake down your happy trail that connects to your neatly trimmed bush and he wants to kiss it. He wants to kiss every inch of your skin.
He pulls down his boxers with his pants, and his semi-hard cock aches to be touched, to be inside you. You take his hand and step under the stream of water. He follows.
He'd follow you anywhere.
Hot water brings life to his cold skin. He's wrapping his arms around you, and his lips push against your own. "Where's the scar from?" you mumble the question between kisses.
"Had surgery wh-when I was a kid," he only stumbles over his words because your hand wraps around his cock and starts to slowly pump him.
He's so sensitive it hurts. Hurts all over. His body writhes at its own accord. "Your cock is so fucking pretty," you hum.
The words are filthy, but they sound as holy as the Pope's because they're said by you. "Baby- I-" you're so good at making him feel good.
Had you done this with someone else? Had you jerked them off in their shower? Had you ever brought another person this much pleasure?
Jealously pools in his chest at the idea of you with anyone that isn't him. "W-why are you so good at this? I-I just, please, wanna be the last. Can't handle the idea o-of you doing this to anyone but me," he confesses.
His sudden confession makes you falter and he tries to read the expression on your face, "last time I did this was before I met you, there's never been anyone since I met you. You were always gonna be it for me."
He almost sinks to his knees he feels so stupid. "D-do you want me to prep you?"
"There's no need, I promise," you smile at him.
You flip around, your body is pressed against his shower wall, the warm water hits his back and he swears he's never been more comfortable in his whole life.
He holds his cock in his hands and lines it up at your entrance. "You ready?" He can't help but sound a little cocky.
"God, Minho, just put it in," you whine.
His knees falter when he finally presses inside you, your walls are warm, inviting. You were right, you didn't need any prep.
"Oh, God," he groans even though he only has his tip in, "fuck, don't know how long I'm gonna last."
"Don't worry," you hum, a sharp squeak leaves your mouth when he stills all the way inside you.
He's buried so far in his cock is pressed up against your cervix. A shiver runs through his body when he finally thrusts inside you. You're tight and warm and so soft.
He's desperate, with every thrust of his hips he is losing every drop of his composure.
"Harder," you beg, "fuck me like you mean it."
His hips slam against your own, and you let out cries of pleasure as your body convulses against his own.
"Love you," you repeat the words like a mantra, they tumble from your lips with every thrust of his hips.
His hand wraps around your body and finds your clit. He would die if he didn't make you cum first. "Ah, jagi," he moans.
"Ah, Min- mama," you don't even realize what you're saying.
Mama? That was new, but he wouldn't protest. Not to you. Not in a million lifetimes.
"Mama, hmm?" Minho whimpers, "you wanna call me that?"
"Mhm," you nod your head furiously, "love you so much!"
How he loves you too.
His hand glides down your body and finds your swollen clit, he rubs it tenderly as his hips stutter in their movements. "Mama!" you squeal, "gonna cum!"
Minho can't warn you before he cums. He swears on everything he knows, this was the best sex he's ever had. His body convulses against yours and all that can be heard is the water hitting the shower and the both of your debauched breaths.
"Love you," you whisper.
Minho places a kiss on your spine, "I love you so much more, jagi. Merry Christmas."
#bun.writes#bunwritesskz#skz#skz imagines#stray kids scenarios#stray kids x you#stray kids#lee minho smut#lee know scenarios#lee minho x reader#lee know#lee know smut#skz smut#stray kids smut#skz x reader#lee minho#lee know x reader
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i dont know why, but your butch post got me thinking about about yet another problem the lgbtqia+ community has: prelabeling people as tops/bottoms. and even being disgusted with/erasing switches, which I've seen a lot. I'm a lesbian. i don't consider myself butch or fem because I'm not comfortable with those labels, but to the outside eye I do seem a little butch. i remember when I was in highschool I had a friend who always said I was "top-coded" and always called me a top. as a bottom and now a questioning aro/ace spec that shit made me so uncomfortable. and I told her that many times, but she just used the shitty "its just a joke" excuse. like omfg shut up
holy shit thank you because i literally wanted to talk about this in that post but wasn't sure if it would make it too long. you messaged me at exactly the right time, thank you so much because this bugs the hell out of me too
that's soooooo gross, i'm sorry that person was saying that to you. first of all that's literally none of their business, you really shouldn't just say that to someone. what the fuck does "top coded" even mean? not all tops are the same, there's literally all kinds of different top dynamics. also i think people get top/bottom and dom/sub mixed up, too, which is even more frustrating. they're not mutually exclusive, they don't mean the same thing. you can be a dominant bottom, or a submissive top. power bottoms are a thing. service tops are a thing.
i literally hate that people inherently assume that butches are tops and femmes are bottoms. like it's just kinda written in stone that femmes have to be submissive pillow princesses and butches have to be tops that take care of all of their needs and barely have theirs addressed at all. like, what about the butches who are bottoms? what about the femmes who are tops? also like you mentioned, do people literally not realize switches exist...? like that's literally also an option.
"butch" does not mean "top". "femme" does not mean "bottom". it's soooo gender essentialist and binarist to go. masc partner = top fem partner = bottom. you just recreated the cishet binary *again*. i can't get over how this is NOT progressive. i do NOT get why white cis lesbians think it's progressive to force butch lesbians to behave exactly like we expect cis men to behave, and force femme lesbians to behave exactly like we expect cis women to behave, but it's NOT PROGRESSIVE!
also, great point, which is that a lot of lesbians are ace. it's so shitty for someone to sit there and try to guess if you're a top or bottom when you're not even interested in sex. honestly is' gross as hell to analyze your friends' and prospective partners behaviors and categorize them into top or bottom. what the hell is wrong with people. that's not a joke, that's invasive, and creepy.
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