#How Are We Purchased By God
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mugiwara--ya · 4 hours ago
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life update: its so good :)
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daincrediblegg · 1 year ago
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oh yeah shoutout to one of the students in my class today who pointed out it was edgar allan poe's birthday which started an impromptu 52 man happy birthday chorus for him. legendary behavior.
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andromedasummer · 1 year ago
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KNITWORLD EMPLOYEES YOU WILL SEE HEAVEN I WILL ENSURE IT
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phoenixd0wner · 1 year ago
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OH MAH GAWD. WE CAN PET TORGAL.
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cheesebearger · 2 years ago
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*physically restraining myself from getting in yet another fucking argument about alchemical significations and the perception of alchemical language with someone who is only really versed in the scientific history of alchemy*
#the PERCEPTION of alchemists as 'mystics' is as integral to alchemy as the science was#like there is a REASON people think they were mystics lol. they couched their words in religious doctrine#and we have proof across literature in the early modern period especially of alchemical lang. being used to metaphorize#transcendence or an alteration of the self or of literal racial transformation#there's a reason shakespeare's pericles is only a cohesive narrative when viewed through the lens of an alchemical romance#there is and was a wealth of meaning attributed to alchemy that goes beyond merely 'hiding trade secrets in code'#and it's actually kind of weird to downplay it as just code. as merely code to protect trade secrets#that isnt what these writers were doing - they were producing content for alchemists AND non-alchemists#these books were purchased by laymen. their emblematics were used to decorate people's living room walls as wallpaper#and btw your christian mapmaker shit is once more stupid. yes there is obvious religious meaning in placing religious icons#on a map of the world. it imagines the world as created by a christian god and therefore enforces a christian perspective#depending on what kind of creature or icon used they could be communicating vastly different things#i wouldnt call them a 'mystic' for it but they also werent writing about how overcoming personal suffering can lead to spiritual perfection#like all those readily available alch texts were doing. lmfao#let's just totally ignore the ways in which the EM english audience made paracelsus into a figure of christian mystic alchemy#bc paracelsus personally didnt do it. like thats not how things work. we cannot ignore the perception of these ppl by others lol#it doesnt MATTER that most of the actual alchemists were scientists. it DOES matter that people thought they were mystics#do you understand? that it matters that ppl thought paracelsus was communicating smth about christianity specifically?#that it matters very much actually that people perceived alchemy as a CHRISTIAN (white!) mystic science?#im feeling rabid lol
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wisteriaclaw · 2 months ago
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ive fallen into a physical media rabbithole so deep i ended up in hell this time..
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obsessivefangirl · 7 months ago
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If true Christianity could be spread through peer pressure and forceful actions, wouldn't you think Jesus would've taught through that?
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spvrkvoid · 1 year ago
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I mean
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tf doodling~~~
i translate my drawing with my poor english skills plz enjoy! (and tell me  if there is a pic that you want me to translate)
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seumyo · 14 days ago
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BAKUGOU KATSUKI ⭑.ᐟ A SERENE CELEBRATION, MERRY CHRISTMAS
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A younger Bakugou Katsuki had always been certain of his future. At 26, he’d be a man with it all: a nice house, a career as the undisputed Number One Hero, happily married, and maybe, just maybe, a little brat on the way. That was the dream his teenage self clung to—the vision he worked tirelessly to acheive.
At 26, Bakugou stood in the middle of your shared apartment, arms crossed and staring at the half-decorated Christmas tree with a deep scowl. Strings of golden lights glimmered around the tree’s branches, lengths of ribbons are accompanied by shimmering with faux flowers, and ornaments—carefully chosen by you—hung delicately in place.
The problem? The color scheme.
“What’s wrong with red and gold?”
“It’s boring,” Bakugou grumbled. “We do red and gold every year.”
“It’s classic!” you argued, turning to face him fully. “And it matches the rest of the apartment’s decor!”
He narrowed his eyes. He could not believe that he’s having this conversation with you right now.
“We could try something new for once. Like silver and blue.”
You gasped, clutching an ornament like he’d just insulted you personally—even cursed your entire bloodline and ancestors. “Silver and blue? Are you trying to make our tree look like a corporate lobby?”
“It’d look cooler than this,” he shot back, gesturing vaguely at the warm-toned ornaments. “This looks like something out of a cheesy holiday catalog.”
“And what’s wrong with cheesy?” you challenged.
Bakugou opened his mouth, then closed it. He didn’t actually have anything against cheesy—hell, he secretly loved how excited you got during the holidays. But arguing about it? That was part of the fun, if not a branch of his quality time as a love language.
“Whatever,” he muttered, grabbing a red bauble and hanging it perfectly on the tree. “You’re just scared to try something new.”
You laughed, walking over with another ornament to decorate with. “And you’re just scared because I’m right.”
As Bakugou worked to string the lights around the higher branches, you began unpacking the remaining ornaments from your storage box. You pulled out a small, slightly worn ornament in the shape of a star and held it up with a nostalgic smile.
“Do you remember this?”
He glanced down from the tree, frowning at the star in your hand. “Should I?”
No matter how much he tries to remember, he simply couldn’t recall what made this star so special that you had to ask him if he remembers it.
It’s a star, that’s for sure. A faded one at that.
You sighed, clearly unimpressed by his lack of sentimentality. “It’s the first ornament we bought together. Back when we were... what, eighteen?”
Bakugou paused. It had been a spur-of-the-moment purchase during a rare day off from hero training.
You had somehow convinced him to go with you to wander around a Christmas market, bickering over everything from what food stalls to visit to what decorations looked “cool.” You had insisted on the star, and Bakugou—reluctantly—agreed after a heated argument about which shape of star’s better.
“Are you having a flashback monologue right now?”
That brought out a scoff from him. “Fuck no. Just remembered how you were annoying as hell that day,” he muttered.
“And you were so stubborn, god. You kept saying it was pointless to buy an ornament because I didn’t even have a tree back in my dorm.”
“Yeah, and you said, ‘It's not about the tree; it's about the tradition.’ What kinda cheesy crap was that?”
“It's true, though!” you argued, accepting his hand to place the star gently on the tree’s highest branch. “And now, look. We still have it. And now we can buy all the Christmas trees we could ever want.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
As you continued decorating, the sound of your laughter and playful arguments filled the apartment, giving it a cozy home feel. By the time the tree was finished, Bakugou begrudgingly admitted to himself that it didn’t look half bad—even if it was the same colors as last year, though a decent fortune was spent for it to not be too repetitive.
It’s a good thing his work pays well (you split the cost of decorations equally; he just says that his work pays better even if yours is a lot higher than his).
You stepped back, admiring your work with a satisfied smile. “Perfect. Now, onto the Christmas Eve menu. I was thinking we could do something light this year—maybe roasted chicken and a salad?”
Bakugou groaned, collapsing onto the couch. “Salad? On Christmas Eve? No fucking way.”
“What’s wrong with salad?”
“Is your childhood a bland mess to have salad as one of the main foods? It’s boring,” he said, sticking his tongue out at you when you gave him a pointed look. “We should make something warm and filling.”
“Okay, but you’re helping.”
“Since when did I ever leave all the cookin’ to you?”
Now that he’s 26, standing in the modest yet cozy apartment he shares with you, he realizes that dreams don’t always come in the exact shape you imagine.
Sure, he doesn’t have the massive house he once envisioned, but this apartment—filled with laughter, memories, and the faint scent of your favorite candles—is more of a home than anything his younger self could have dreamed up. The framed photos of your milestones, the shelves of books, and even a few of his hero equipment with the tools scattered on his office—it’s all perfect in a way he didn’t know he needed.
And his career? Well, Dynamight isn’t the Number One Hero yet, but he’s close. Close enough that his younger self would sneer but grudgingly admit it’s not bad.
He’s built a solid name for himself, and he’s done it his way. His rank might not be where he wanted it to be at this age, but he’s learned something more valuable than being the best—he’s learned the importance of balance.
The last part of that dream? The wife? He looks toward the kitchen, where you’re humming some off-tune melody, beginning to prepare what Bakugou’s about to cook with for dinner. The sight of you, so comfortable and almost glowing in your shared space, makes his chest tighten.
He must have a heart problem by this point because it comes at him at the most unexpected times whenever he sees you.
No, he doesn’t have a wife yet. But he’s about to change that.
He’s been thinking about it for weeks now.
He’s got the ring—it’s hidden in the drawer under his socks, where he knows you won’t go snooping.
He knows you’ll say yes, but he would be damned if he didn’t admit that it made him a bit nervous. He knows because you look at him the same way he looks at you: like the world would become lighter and easier to conquer as long as you have the other.
But still, he waits.
Not because he’s unsure, but because he wants the timing to be perfect. Not rushed, not forced. He’s learned to be patient over the years.
“Kats, help with cutting the onions, please!”
“Yeah, yeah. Comin’!”
Soon, he’ll drop the question. He’s not in a rush. This is your life together, and it’s not perfect, but it is just right—chaotic, loud, and full of love. And when the time comes, he’ll make sure you know just how much you mean to him.
But you already know that, don’t you?
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aflamboyanceofflamingos · 9 months ago
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Tim, suddenlly looking up: Oh My God Dick: What? are you okay? What happened? Tim: I just realized why Jason keeps making jokes about how he died Jason: Yeah, because I died. It was a fairly big thing Tim: No, it's because nothing else happened when you were Robin Jason: What Tim: Dick's the original Robin and the first sidekick, not to mention Discowing, so he has a lot to joke about- Dick: Hey! Discowing was cool Tim: No it was not. Neither was Ric without a k. Never be anything but Nightwing Dick: Aw, you like it when I'm myself Tim: No, I'm less tramatized when you're yourself. Anyway, Steph started a gang war, Demon Brat died and came back to life and is still Robin, Duke's not Robin but he started We Are Robin and jumped out of a police car before being a vigilante and I have my own things that we don't need to discus- Dick: Saved the world in a intergalatic baseball game- Jason: Hid the purchase of your own batmoblie in the batarang expenses- Dick: Sunk around and took photos of vigilante at the age of 9- Tim: THAT WE DON'T HAVE TO DISCUSS! Back to what I was saying, Jason's the boring robin Jason: Rude- Tim: You were the good robin, the little crazy shit you did like steal the tires off the batmobile were kinda overshadowed by the fact that you like Jane Austen and you been red hood is because you died so everything you've done since then still has to do with the one thing that happened to you as Robin Dick: Oh My God. You said you were sticking to the same joke over and over again so it would have the same effect, but really you have nothing else to make jokes about Tim: Exactly! Jason: We really don't have to talk about this- Tim: I need to go tell Steph immediately Dick: I need to go tell everyone immediately
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keferon · 1 month ago
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My hands are shaky and my head is refusing to work properly! But! I made it!
The Blurr chapter for Mecha au >:D
Blurr's job is not to fight for humanity.
Blurr's job is to smile for the camera and take the applause of people who praise him for his bravery and sacrifice. Blurr's job is to sell his face, his voice and his skills to millions of viewers. He must impress investors, show off advanced technology and make a determined face saying that to save mankind he is ready for anything. And then get in a luxury car and drive off to some expensive place to burn a whole bunch of zeros out of his paycheck.
He's not someone who stays after work to help his coworkers. And he's not the one who spends his nights trying to save as many people as possible. He signs autographs, makes big statements, and promises people he'll protect them.
And people believe him.
And they love him.
Swerve is sick of this spectacle. Swerve is sick of this man.
Under the cut
————————————
Nobody likes Blurr.
Okay, if you think on a large scale, everyone loooves Blurr. His face is on every poster, his brand is in every possible store, his voice and is in every cool commercial. You literally can't exist without knowing who Blurr is, or at least seeing his face once. It's a “Luke I'm your father” level phenomenon. How massive a rock do you have to live under to miss something like that?
Everybody loves Blurr. You can go buy a t-shirt with his face on it. You can go listen to his interviews or purchase a tiny replica of his action figure. There are incredibly many ways a Blurr fan can blow a hole in their budget.
Swerve knows, because he's done it many times. And recently, it's stopped being something he's proud of. To be precise, it was exactly four days ago when Blurr first stepped into his office. Swerve had just finished his shift and was finishing his tea when his boss suddenly appeared in the doorway, with the best racer in the world right behind him.
The tea was instantly dropped, adrenaline was released, and the brain was turned off.
In that moment, Swerve thought that this is what it must look like. The moment when all your good karma comes together in one pile to reward you for all the times you dropped a sandwich butter side down or missed a deadline.
Both of which happened with annoying regularity. Swerve is unlucky. Sometimes things seem to fall through his hands.
It started out great.
Swindle, their boss, showed up in the office space one day looking simultaneously jubilant, nervous, and very inspired. Usually on such occasions, Swerve could almost see the dollar signs reflected in his boss's glasses.
“Attention everyone. We have an important guest arriving in an hour.”
Swindle expressively pushed his glasses down on his nose and looked around the room
“I promised him a tour and I expect you all to behave yourselves.”
He meticulously looks around the floor beneath his feet
“Send someone to clean up all the trash. This place is unbelievably filthy. The floors should be sparkling in twenty minutes! And, oh! Hey you, go buy some good drinks.”
Having finished inspecting the floor Swindle hurriedly runs off, probably to say the same thing to the neighboring department.
Swerve stretches his neck out curiously, listening in
“Is the president coming to see us?”
Walking by, Jazz shrugs
“When the president was coming Swindle said the floor was dirty and made him wear boot covers.”
It's not the president
Swindle gestures generously to the entire office at once and looks overall like a bird trying his best to primp up
“And here we have the engineering department offices. In the next building is the assembly plant, that's where the mechs are put on their feet so to speak. And this is where all the computing, design, and planning happens.”
Just over his shoulder stands and looks around at none other than
Oh, dear God.
Swerve's tea flies to the floor next to his thought processes.
He's seen Blurr countless times, but never in person. How can this guy look as good in person as he does in expensive retouched-until-squeaky-clean photos? Mystery.
Blurr's gaze slides lazily over the simple office setting and for those two seconds when it's directed at Swerve it feels like sheer madness. He tries to look normal. He's not sure he's succeeding, but he's making an effort.
Swindle waltzes through the office, heading for the next door
“Come on I'll show you the mech hangar.”
Blurr grins.
“A highlight of the show I suppose~”
His voice is like a needle bursting a ball of stunned silence. People begin to rise from their seats and scramble to say hello. Someone asks for an autograph, others ask for a bunch of selfies, a couple people in the corner hastily fix their hair, one of the employees just pulls out his phone and shamelessly starts filming.
Swindle looks at the this with an unchanging commercial smile, but his gaze promises all kinds of punishment.
Perhaps if it had been the president, the buffoonery would have been smaller.
______________
For the next few days, Blurr is the big news and the center of all discussion.
Officially? He's becoming one of the pilots in the Mecha program.
In fact? Swindle's greedy soul couldn't get enough of the idea that the Mech concept could be monetized.
The dust is blown off Blurr and his boots are licked. He doesn't go to general training, he doesn't participate in ordinary or overly dangerous missions. He's allowed everything and a little more. His job is to look pretty on camera, speak his lines, smile and wink. He's a walking advertisement and Swindle's incredibly powerful tool in negotiating with investors.
Swerve once saw him called to a negotiation in the middle of the night, and even sleep-deprived and exhausted after a full day of filming, Blurr had the strength to pull that charming expression on his face and flawlessly play along with Swindle wherever he needed to.
His mech was a work of art. And that's not even an exaggeration. Usually the main purpose of mechs is to be efficient and practical. Blurr's Mech was made separately and so many people worked on its design that it could have its own end credits. It's beautiful, sleek, shiny and show-offy. It's designed to be awe-inspiring, but not so decorated that it's ridiculous.
When Swerve looks at its specs, he almost feels sick. Maneuverability, mobility, everything is absolutely top-notch. But most importantly, speed.
The technology to accelerate Mechs to incredible speeds has been around for some time, but the average robot doesn't reach even half of the technically possible maximum. Because even the fastest machine can't outrun the human brain.
After a certain threshold, pilots are no longer capable of controlling their own Mech. Human reaction speed is simply not enough to maneuver without crashing into anything or losing their orientation in space. And. Well. Without losing consciousness.
This has led to Mech manufacturers sort of tacitly agreeing on a rough speed limit and tending to stick to it. Just to make the technology safer and more suitable for everyone.
Regardless. Everyone except Blurr apparently.
Because the numbers across from his Mech's speed specs are horrifying. Swerve looks at the blueprints and thinks it's either freaking awesome or absolute suicide. Maybe something in between. Can a human being have reflexes like that? What about this turning mechanism? The numbers tell him that these levels of g-force make a large percentage of pilots just pass out.
Is Blurr really going to pilot this death wagon??
To achieve that kind of speed and mobility, they'd have to cut off half the armor or make it very light. Which would almost be like inviting a dangerous injury.
But if the Mech is made primarily to flaunt rather than fight...well... it probably makes sense.
Swerve's inner fan is sliding down the wall.
Blurr is incredible. And what's even more incredible is that he's kind of sort of almost Swerve's coworker now.
It only takes him a couple days to realize.
Everyone loves Blurr.
But the one who loves Blurr the most is Blurr himself.
The rose-tinted glasses are breaking slowly but surely. On the first day, Sverve walks up on shaky legs to get introduced. He tells himself that this is definitely not an attempt to get an autograph. They're coworkers. He's just...uh...greeting a new employee.
Blurr looks slightly bored.
“You're from this department....uh.. What's its name, whatever.”
Swerve clutches his hands in front of him so he doesn't accidentally drop anything
“OH.Uh yeah. Swerve! Engineering Department. You were there on a tour the other day. I usually work in the assembly plant, making armor for Mechs, developing new alloys. But I design too! I, uh.
(Don't talk about Blurr. Don't talk about Blurr. Don't talk about Blurr. Don't talk about Blurr. Don't talk about Blurr. Don't talk about Blurr. Don't talk about Blurr. He'll think you're a crazy fan. Don't talk about Blurr.)
Blurr starts to get sidetracked by his phone.
Swerve swallows awkwardly.
“I'm uh. I'm a big fan of yours. Sir.”
(Good job...)
Blurr chuckles softly and offers out his hand
“Well, nice to meet you.”
Sverve's hand is shaking like crazy, he hopes he isn't squeezing too hard. Working in the assembly has made his hands rough. Blurr's narrow, soft palm is almost sinking in his grip.
“ 'Nice to meet you, yes. Nice to meet you sir! If you, ah, if you have any problems or questions or uh, well. You know, if you need help with your Mech or upgrades or or.”
Blurr chuckles.
“I'll be counting on you~”
Swerve feels like his soul is about to break away from his body.
The next, day when they cross paths in the hallway Blurr waves to him.
“Hey you. Whatever your name is. Can you tell me how to get to Block D?
Swerve stops awkwardly.
“Ah. Of course! I'm Swerve sir. Come, I'll show you.”
Blurr smiles a beautiful, ad-libbed smile and follows him in
“Thank you darling.”
From this point on, the entire program gradually learns a simple but unpleasant truth.
Blurr is an asshole.
And nobody likes him.
He always has everyone at his beck and call. You rarely get to see him on his own. There's always someone swirling around him with a guilty or annoyed face. A sort of serve-get-show-explain designated poor guy.
Swindle treats Blurr like a precious antique vase.
Blurr treats people like his servants.
The whole world is in love with the glittering cover, the image polished to a squeak. Until recently, Swerve was doing the same thing. Now it feels more like an embarrassing crush.
Blurr still doesn't remember his name. He actually remembers at most three to four people by name, and calls everyone else “hey you” or “ darling”. After Swerve reintroduced himself to him for the fourth time he just sort of...stopped trying.
On the field, Blurr is incredible. No one can deny that. The tremendous speed of his Mech leaves all the other pilots in the dust. Whoever said human reflexes weren't fast enough? HA. When Swerve sees his reports and results, he gets dizzy.
The combination of such incredible speeds and light armor means Blurr simply can't miss. If he hesitates, if he falters. If he gets confused. The whole metal thing will smash him to smithereens.
And yet Blurr comes back untouched time after time.
Swerve's no longer inclined to think it's just because of his mad skills. He knows that Swindle is paying Blurr a lot of money for his cooperation. No one would let Blurr fight on the front lines, no. It would be too dangerous. He has to do just enough so that Swindle can record a commercial and in it call Blurr a badass pilot without adding small print to that statement.
Blurr's job is not to fight for humanity.
Blurr's job is to smile for the camera and take the applause of people who praise him for his bravery and sacrifice. Blurr's job is to sell his face, his voice and his skills to millions of viewers. He must impress investors, show off advanced technology and make a determined face saying that to save mankind he is ready for anything. And then get in a luxury car and drive off to some expensive place to burn a whole bunch of zeros out of his paycheck.
He's not someone who stays after work to help his coworkers. And he's not the one who spends his nights trying to save as many people as possible. But he is the first person every citizen would name if asked to say something about the Mech program. He signs autographs, makes big statements, and promises people he'll protect them.
And people believe him.
And they love him.
A month later, he still can't remember anyone's names and sometimes calls people by the colors of their clothes, laughing as if they should take it as a cute joke.
Swerve is sick of this spectacle. Swerve is sick of this man.
That's okay.
It's not like fanboying over Blurr is Swerve's only passion.
He gets upset.
Then he gets mad and rips down all the posters.
Then he has no time to be angry because Swindle wants to launch Mechs into outer space and damn it, Jazz flies off the planet and doesn't fucking come back. The engineering department stays up nights trying to figure out where he's gone, but they can't.
Unlike Blurr, everybody loved Jazz.
Unlike Blurr, Jazz deserved every ounce of that love.
The ground beneath his feet is starting to shake.
At first, all that happens is panic. Everyone starts making a confused noise, someone assumes an earthquake.
A voice on the speakers says that everyone needs to evacuate immediately, but no one hears it because huge mechanical tentacles start coming through the windows and the whole building starts shaking, creaking and crumbling.
Sverve has seen the monsters humanity has to fight many times. But never this close. And their size leaves him absolutely terrified. These things are huge, they take up all visible space. And what's most damning is that they can break down the walls around Swerve like a fucking cookie.
He's gonna die. Oh god he's going to die, he's going to die, he's going to die, he's going to die, he's going to die, he's going to die, he's going to die here under this stupid rubble or get eaten or turned into one of the ugly bloody stains on the wall. His heart is doing a million beats a minute and his eyes are starting to sting. He tries to get to the emergency exit, but the door is blocked by one of the huge toothy creatures that is actively trying to get in.
Next to him, Swindle is shouting to someone on his comm, trying to sound louder than the rumble of the collapsing building and the hungry aliens.
The floor tilts at a very disturbing angle and Swerve grabs one of the interior doorways to stay in place. A second later, he reaches out and pulls Swindle, who has already slowly begun to slip toward the monster's huge hungry maw, to the same doorway.
Swindle grabs onto the frame of the door and Swerve at the same time. His glasses are cracked and his usually neat expensive coat is all dust and debris.
“It was a trap.”
Swerve can't hear a word over the grinding of breaking structures.
“What?”
Swindle almost slips and falls, but Swerve grabs him by the scruff of his coat and puts him back on his feet. Working in an assembly shop gives a man strong arms and right now he's very grateful for it.
Swindle makes a second, louder attempt
“It was a trap!!! All available pilots are now on the other side of the country! I've called for backup, but who knows how fast they'll get here.”
A smooth, silky voice comes from a walkie-talkie strapped to his coat.
“Ouch Swindle. So little faith in my professional skills?”
Swindle rounds his eyes
“Blurr??! Where are you!”
Blurr's voice sounds...not quite as it usually does. It's missing the habitual lazy note. The one that makes him sound like the whole world owes him money.
“Give me another minute and the answer will be 'here'.”
The building shakes again. Swindle swears so eloquently that Swerve can't help but admire it.
Swerve can't stand Blurr's smug face, but when he spots the first glimpse of blue metal in the window, joy floods his brain.
He usually associates Blurr with dumb nicknames, dismissive treatment, and commercials.
Now he watches the sleek, fast Mech lunge fearlessly at the monsters surrounding the building and thinks that. Fuck this. He's an asshole, but if he buys Swerve enough time to evacuate, he'll bring him a thank you card or something later. Though it's unlikely Blurr will care about that of course.
Swindle continues to shout instructions over the walkie-talkie. Swerve basically drags him outside by. He jumps up probably a full meter when very near him one of the monsters falls to the ground.
Blurr's Mech stands proudly on top of the fresh corpse and looks...actually really bad. Swerve knows that this particular robot was not built for rough, open confrontation. Its armor is too thin. Designed for speed and agility, not strength. He assembled it himself, after all.
Many of the plates are crumpled. Some are torn off. His legs are intact, but one of the joints sparks funny.
Blurr quickly looks around and Swerve unwittingly follows his example. The whole place is on fire. Office buildings are in ruins and a huge column of black smoke rises above the assembly plant.
Blurr's Mech drops to the ground and gets down on one knee. The plates on its chest are pulled aside and Blurr sticks his head out of the cockpit while simultaneously opening the visor on his helmet.
“Everyone okay?”
Swindle clutches the walkie-talkie
“The office areas are empty, but there still could be people left on the lower floors of the assembly plant. But we have no access there!”
Blurr drums his fingers quickly on the metal plate
“Fire?”
Swindle shrugs his dusty shoulders
“Something exploded at the bottom of the building. It's a real smelter down there.
Even if we send a Mech, it won't last more than a minute before it overheats. Or make the building collapse.”
Blurr's gaze becomes focused. Sharp. Swerve has seen that look many times on tough front line fighters like Jazz. On Blurr, never.
“'That's enough time for me.”
Swindle waves his hands
“Are you crazy?”
Blurr slaps his palm against the armor of his Mech
“This baby is light. Lighter than anything you've got! If anyone can do it without dropping the building, it's me. They make Mechs in the assembly hall, it's got high ceilings right?”
Swerve wants to snap. He wants to throw his hands up angrily and yell something along the lines of “you were literally there!”
Who else is down there on those lower floors??? Tailgate? Maybe Wheeljack? If something exploded, Wheeljack was definitely there. And probably closest to the explosion.
Swindle curses furiously, but retreats and runs off to give orders to someone else.
“”Be a hero if you want, but I'm not going in there. For all I know there could be melting metal in there instead of a floor! It's just not reasonable.”
Swerve's brain stumbles over that statement. Why...Swindle is acting like he's being forced to climb into that building too...?
Blurr looks nervous.
“You know what. Fine. I got it. Hey, you--”
And there it is. The good old namelesness.
Blurr pays no attention to Swerve's frowning face, nor his hands shaking with fear
“ You're familiar with those buildings. You know who was there and where to find them right? I need you to walk me through.”
Swerve feels the urge to snap again and this time doesn't hold it back
“If you cared about something other than yourself, you'd know this damn building and the people who work in it too and !”
“I don't fucking remember!” Blurr interrupts him.
Swerve doesn't have time to put anything in after that. Though a sarcastic comment is begging to be made.
Blurr quickly takes off his helmet and wipes the sweat off his forehead.
“I don't remember okay! This isn't a fad or posing or whatever else you think of me. This is what an accident can do to you if you miss a turn! I can't remember shit, okay?! Do you need a medical report?!”
Swerve just...stands there with his mouth open and probably looks like an idiot.
Blurr nervously tucks back his disheveled hair. The longer he talks, the faster he does it.
“Now. I know you don't want to die in a pit of fire. But I need your help to save them. Don't do anything, just take the map. I promise I won't let you die.”
He sounds determined. And holds out his hand to Swerve, silently inviting him to climb up onto the Mech.
His face is stained in sticky dust, his hair is an absolute mess, and his narrow palm is covered in streaks of soot. It's as if he's been dragged face down a muddy road.
He's. Very Handsome, Swerve thinks.
He takes his hand.
Blurr helps him up, pushes him into the space next to the pilot's seat, and closes the cockpit.
“Been inside a working Mech ever?”
Swerve clenches his hands nervously on the back of the seat
“No.”
The lights of the consoles around him come to life as Blurr puts on his helmet. The space around him hums. It's a strange noise. At once unsettling and calm.
Mech feels alive, he thinks. Then corrects himself. Blurr is mind-linked to this Mech. This Mech can technically be considered alive in a sense.
Blurr moves one of the monitors toward him and opens the map.
“Just mark the path here. Don't touch anything else. And hold on tight. I won't be going too fast anyway, but it'll be shaky.”
Swerve swallows nervously.
“Understood.”
After that, everything turns into motion. Watching the Mech work while being inside is mesmerizing.
Blurr doesn't say much, concentrating on the controls. His hands aren't shaking anymore, Swerve notices. Not even a little.
He steers the machine forward confidently and smoothly, dodging falling debris and avoiding the biggest pockets of fire without panic or hesitation.
He's also strictly following the path Swerve is laying out for him.
The air filtration system is doing well so far. Swerve can feel the smell of burning and the heat slowly creeping up, but it's bearable for now. For now.
They find a man on the nearside of the emergency exit.
Two more people a floor below. A small group stuck in the elevator.
Wheeljack's on the doorstep of his lab.
Blurr pulls them all out. Picks up the first group of people and carries them outside, goes back into the fiery furnace, finds more survivors, pulls them out, goes back, searches, rescues, goes back, searches, rescues.
The heat is coming up. Swerve can feel it. The plates around him are getting hot. The air smells like burnt wires.
Blurr’s Mech wasn't designed for this kind of thing.
His Mech was made to flash for the camera and accelerate to impossible speeds. To deceive and confuse the enemy. Its armor is thin and cools easily in the air, which usually helps it avoid overheating.
This also means that this Mech heats up very quickly as well.
Now, with the air around him feeling like a red-hot frying pan, Swerve regrets not saying anything back then. He regrets that he didn't make any changes to the blueprint.
More and more warnings pop up on the screens. The map stopped working correctly some time ago and Swerve is forced to give directions verbally.
He nervously grips the back of the pilot seat with one hand and, without noticing, Blurr's shoulder with the other.
Blurr carries two more people outside and hands them to the rescuers. Then turns back to the building again and. OH FUCK. Right in front of him, a huge crack begins to creep along the structure. This thing is on the verge of collapse. The roof is already starting to fold down in a very bad way.
Swerve clenches his grip fearfully and hears Blurr hiss through his teeth.
Suddenly, the cockpit opens. The fresh air of the street feels like a cold sledgehammer blow after the heat and stuffiness of the lower levels.
Swerve is about to ask something, but doesn't have time because Blurr uses Mech's hand to gently but quickly pull him outside and set him on the ground.
“You were going to mark another spot.”
Swerve nods hurriedly.
“Tailgate is still there.”
Blurr wrinkles his face.
Swerve corrects himself and clarifies
“Bright blue uniform. Short. Considering all the places we've been, I think he's in the staff quarters. It's...”
He chews his fingers, trying to remember numbers and directions without a map
“...two floors down, left, another floor down and straight ahead.”
As he speaks Blurr bends over the side of the open cockpit and spits...blood on the ground. His nose is bleeding, Swerve realizes. That's not good. It's a clear sign of a malfunctioning neural connection. Or damage to his respiratory system? Possibly both.
Blurr doesn't seem to notice his worried look
“Two down, left down then. Shit. Wait. Two down, left then down, straight ahead yeah?”
Swerve nods.
Blurr keeps repeating these directions like a mantra. A very fast and creepy mantra.
His gaze roams strangely and his breaths sound hoarse. His teeth and chin are covered in blood and his face is streaked with soot.
Swerve understands. He's about to do another go.
Two down, left, down, straight. Two down, left, down, straight. Two down, left, down, straight.
Alone. He's going, and he's going to fry himself alive in there for a stranger he doesn't even remember.
Swerve doesn't have time to say anything. What's he gonna say? Stop? But he wants to save Tailgate? Go on, I believe in you? But it's certain death.
Swerve rarely has nothing to say, but this time he can't find the right words.
Blurr wipes the blood with his sleeve, wrinkles his nose, and storms off, heading back into the flaming mess the plant has become.
Not twenty seconds later, the roof collapses, spewing a huge cloud of smoke, ash, and fire into the sky.
Swerve wrinkles his shirt nervously in his hands.
The walls are still in place, right? If the roof is gone but the walls are still standing it's... it's. It's.
Damn it. He's trying to remember the blueprints. It means the ejector will work. It means Blurr can still get out through the top. That--
Blurr's not getting out. As the small, bright blue escape pod appears above the falling walls of the building, Swerve feels his brain stop. Remember the blueprints, remember the damn blueprints. The Mech is light, the design is compact, the space in the pod is for only one person.
In the capsule lies an unconscious Tailgate.
Swindle grasps the radio
“Blurr? BLURR!”
Swerve looks at the smoke and ash and feels numb. He doesn't want to be here anymore. He has to know. He doesn't...
He feels weird. The same kind of weird as when objects fly seemingly through him. Everything just stops being real.
The thought comes out of nowhere. You don't have to obey the rules. You can see more. Just look.
He's not sure how or why he's doing it.
No one around him is paying much attention to him. Everyone's busy with survivors and damage assessment or just stunned by the chaos.
And him? He disappears.
And then he appears at the bottom. Under the rubble.
All around him is ugly, molten and red-hot chaos, but he doesn't care anymore. He feels like whatever is happening is about to end and he just has to be in time. Time for him to find out.
Blurr's Mech lies crushed by the fallen roof. Its cockpit is open. A gaping hole where his chest was, the place where the escape pod had undocked.
Wall debris has pinned him in a crooked, grotesque pose.
Blurr is here. His legs are wedged between crumpled metal plates inside the cockpit, leaving him hanging upside down. His suit is charred. Half of his face is destroyed. It looks like a horrible bloody and burned mess. It's ugly and gruesome.
Blurr opens his only working eye and gives Swerve a cloudy look.
“I must be seeing things...”
Swerve shrugs in daze. He knows he shouldn't be here.
Blurr spits up a mouthful of blood
“I'm sorry I hurt you uh...”
“Swerve.”
“Yes. Swerve. It's hard for me to remember things unless they're...akgh...hell... not in my face all the time.”
Swerve moves closer and frowns
“You know, that explains but doesn't excuse you.”
Blurr closes his eye and coughs. That sounds really bad.
“No...I guess not.”
He huffs off the blood again. The burned half of his face is oozing with it. The blood runs down his forehead, collecting in a small puddle on the floor.
“It was better than letting everyone know what's wrong with me. I can't even begin to think about the amount of messes I'd be dragged into.”
Swerve notes that the fire seems to be getting closer.
This whole bit of dialog is so unnatural. Who even talks about that kind of stuff before they die. On the other hand. Well. Character development?
“So you think it's better to have everyone assume you're a jerk than that you got your head screwed on?”
Blurr wrinkles his nose.
“ You're a very specific kind of ghost.”
Swerve shoves his hands in his pockets and looks away
“I needed to know. Before you die.”
“That's ...akghhh...ha....it's good to know. Can you tell me something Swerve? As..agh...
As a last wish?”
Swerve shrugs again. He stares at the dripping blood. At the ugly, bubbling burns. At the burst vessels in his eye and the paths of blood from his bleeding nose. He looks at the broken and scorched and dying bloody mess.
He looks at Blurr.
And he thinks, until today, he didn't really love Blurr. Not with the posters and figurines. Not with the disdain and dislike.
He loved an image. And hated an image.
He reaches out and tries to touch Blurr's hand, but goes through it.
“I'm sorry. But we're both not really here. And I have to go.”
He can feel the cold metal around him, which is strange because he's standing in the middle of smoking and burning ruins
“But if it makes you happy, I guess you're my favorite character after all.”
Blurr doesn't answer. Swerve isn't sure he even heard him.
The feeling of metal around him grows sharper.
Someone shines a flashlight in his face.
Swerve blinks stupidly and tries to move away.
The unknown Autobot medic standing over him smiles happily and puts the flashlight away
“Welcome back. You've been in a coma Primus knows how long.”
The other medic to the side frowns
“You have zero tact.”
Swerve blinks his optics puzzled, raises his servo and for a while just stares at it like some movie character. All around him is an Autobot medbay. Metal walls. Metal instruments. And him. Metal.
Yes. Seems so. That's the way he's always been. That's right.
“Doc, you won't believe what kind of weird dream I had.”
___________
Swerve feels like he's going crazy.
He's standing in the middle of a hallway on one of the Autobot ships, and he's staring. shamelessly.
There's Prowl standing at the end of the hallway. And on his shoulder is...
“ JAZZ????”
Both bot and human turn around abruptly at his scream. And both look equally puzzled.
Jazz waves his hand
“Do I know you?”
Swerve is definitely going crazy. It's Jazz. The same one. From his...dream??? But he's real and tangible??? Sitting on Prowl's shoulder, talking and breathing and being seen by everyone not only Swerve????
“You're...real...?”
Jazz raises his eyebrows
“I am. Yes. Really Mech, you sound very familiar.
But I can tell you for a fact that I have not been friends with any Cybertronians before...”
This can't be, this can't be, this isn't....
It was a dream. The spawn of his TV series-addled mind. A hallucination. It wasn't real. It wasn't, was it?
But Jazz is here. And he disappeared from Earth. And now he's here.
And.
What the..
Swerve blurts out something like “sorry-sorry-see-you-later-now-I've got to go” and runs off.
“HEY DOC????”
The autobot, already familiar to him, flinches
“Primus...Swerve? Is something wrong?”
Swerve realizes that everything is about to either make sense or lose it completely.
“Tell me...is it possible to project a holoform...like...very far away?”
The Doctor tilts his head.
“Depends on power consumption. If you channel all the energy available in a frame, you can go very far. But that would send you into a...coma...if you...tried...Swerve, is there anything you'd like to tell me?”
“Doc do you know where Earth is?”
“Wha...no?”
Swerve chuckles nervously and bites his knuckles.
“I don't either. But I think I've been there...”
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affableramen · 2 months ago
Text
when they finish earlier than you
mature content including sexual themes; established relationships
Wriothesley, Tartaglia, Neuvillette, Pantalone, Ayato, Capitano, Dottore, Alhaitham, Dainsleif, Baizhu
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Wriothesley
He groans with emotion but it’s only a few seconds after he realises that you’re still beneath him, still haven't come. Wriothesley looks at your widened, surprised eyes and agape mouth. 
“Bloody hell—”, he spits with a shaky voice. “I’m so sorry, we haven't seen each other for a while and I—”
Wriothesley gently caresses your hip, while chuckling and looking at you half-blushing. “Shit, I must have missed you too much.”
It’s not a problem for him to bring you to the peak with his mouth or hands. 
Tartaglia
He squirts his release with a loud moan, pressing you close to his chest, his face buried into your neck. Those little bites shall leave radiant marks.
“Oh my god…” Ajax moans into your neck. “Oh f-fuck—I—”, he pats your back, “Fuck, I have never come so fast before. It’s not my fault, peanut, you’re too gorgeous for your own good.” He jokingly says, hiding his blush into your neck so you have no idea of it. Ajax is incredibly embarrassed and frustrated with his manhood that got too sensitive too soon.
Neuvillette
Neuvillette feels embarrassed and upset over losing his composure so quickly. He usually lasts long, and finding himself in such predicament gives way to the feeling of guilt and frustration.
“Darling, we can go one more round to get you satisfied. Please forgive me, my love.”
“No need to, Neuvillette, the both of us are tired. We can do it anytime during the week.”
“But I feel so guilty for coming first and not giving you the release you deserved. Let me at least satisfy you with my hands.”
“I don’t mind that, but please don't stress yourself out too much. It’s just sex, we can do many times better later. Nothing changes between us if you simply came early.”
Neuvillette caresses your face softly and speaks with emotion.
“You know that I usually last. I feel so defeated right now.”
To comfort your husband you place a kiss on the centre of his palm.
“Cumming early doesn't make my love to you fade, Neuvillette. In all honesty, I’m glad if I make you so excited that you can barely hold it together.” You give one other awkward but loving smiles. 
Pantalone
“I—I apologise. I did not foresee that, darling”, with a perplexed, disoriented look Pantalone pulls away. He gets purchase on the clean towel and covers his body in shame. A terrific sight, so rare for the Ninth Harbinger who is usually unabashed, especially in intimacy. 
“Oh my—how pathetic!”
You try to comfort him, saying that he must have been both too excited and tired after work, which ended up in premature peak, but Pantalone seems too distressed and angry at his inability to control himself as he quickly vanishes from the bedroom. 
Ayato
With a stiffled moan Ayato finishes, but somehow it feels so wrong - releasing much earlier than you, when his significant other’s orgasm is in question. 
Ayato grabs the towel and wipes himself clean, while looking down at you, your legs still thrown on his shoulders. 
“Oh my goodness”, he laughs at himself, but the laugh is nervous, not cocky or proud as it usually is. The man’s ego seems to die out ridiculously soon, as quickly as he finishes this time.
“We’ll have to go one more round after that…” he hisses, his member still very sensitive. “Once I get ready again.”
Capitano
“Hngghh—” 
Capitano pulls out with a well-heard grunt and pulls you closer to his chest. You are lying on top of him, your bodies are slightly wet when he makes a remark:
“I apologise, wife. It seems my stamina betrayed me tonight”, he gives a smooch to your cheek, brief but filled with devoted emotion. “Maybe if you stay a while like this, I can satisfy you longer. What do you think?” He delivers yet another kiss, this time to your neck. His voice sounds much quieter and he gently runs his hand through your hair.
“We should really stay together tonight. I feel like I need you more than ever. And not a word about this to anyone.”
Dottore
“Dottore, get out of the bathroom, immediately.”
“No!” A grunt and a curse escape from the inside of the bathroom. “I must learn what caused the fail in performance.”
“Dottore, I’m happy either way. Besides you looked quite funny.”
“FUNNY—she thinks I’m funny”, he utters to himself under his breath. “I’m going to check this little idiot for ruining our bedtime.”
Your amused laugh can be heard from the bedroom, as Dottore’s anger at his own manhood looks funny.
Alhaitham
“Oh, Y/N—f-fuck!” Alhaitham certainly does not expect himself to cum prematurely. His face looks red and his expression radiates emotion. You swear you have never seen a face sexier than this. You didn't know that he could ever be able to cum so hard (and so soon). 
Alhaitham scowls, looking at you. “What? You think this is funny? It’s just a one time occurrence.” Another moan escapes his mouth and he covers his face with his hand. “You shouldn't see me like this—”
Dainsleif
Dainsleif falls onto the bed, utterly defeated and pulls you with him. You notice how heavily he is breathing and judging by the perplexed look on his face, never he did expect rushing his own release. He was shocked, to say in the least.
“Don’t look at me like that. You think you’ve defeated me?” Dainsleif groans when you move to his chest. “I will make you finish twice next time, and believe me—much earlier than me.”
Baizhu
Baizhu lets out a moan he did not expect coming and immediately covers his mouth. His face is red and silly when he looks down at you. He is blushing extraordinarily, and the buds of sweat roll over his chest as he towers over you. 
“Let’s pretend this did not happen, my dear”, he runs his hand down your lips and onto your neck. “Oh my goodness, how embarrassing.”
Yet you just give him a sincere laugh. “Baizhu, it’s alright. I enjoyed it immensely.”
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dolcekissy · 3 months ago
Text
minty , ღ
: ̗̀➛ bunny!reader giving bsf!rafe head while using those mint drooling tablets while rafe records it.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ main masterlist | bunny!reader x bsf!rafe masterlist
disclaimer // 18+ content. this story includes oral sex, and a lot of spit ;)
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you were bored ─ thumbs scrolling as you skipped through videos on tiktok. rafe invited you over just to chill in his bed and spend the night together, you loved spending time with rafe but you were fucking bored.
rafe laying down in his bed next to you, mindlessly scrolling through instagram ─ stopping to watch different reels and like pictures people posted. he stopped ─ his head snapping over to you and your phone when you gasped.
"oh my god! rafe look at this!" you shoved your phone in his face, showing him a video of a girl laughing with wide eyes ─ her mouth opened as saliva poured out of her mouth. "ew, what the fuck." he groaned out, his brows furrowing as he looked away.
"no way that shits real!" you laughed, clicking on the link to look at the little mints and reading the description. "we have to try these, that's so funny." you giggled, immediately adding it to your cart and purchasing it.
rafe scoffed and continued scrolling through his phone, "that shits not real ─ bet it's a scam or some shit."
─────────────────────────
a few days passed and your package came in the mail, you excitedly opened it and texted rafe to pick you up. you were going to surprise him and try to get him to try them with you.
rafe had totally forgotten about them, so when you pulled out a little bright package he furrowed his brows at you ─ asking you what that is.
"it's those mint tablet things i showed you ─ the ones that make you drool a lot, told you we were trying them." you giggle, opening the package and popping one in your mouth.
"you've gotta be kidding me." rafe scoffed, he looked at the little package and read the strength ─ not even a minute later you're opening the car door and laughing as saliva starts dripping down your chin and onto the ground.
"rafe! oh my god look!" you step out of his car, holding your hair back with your hands as your mouth drips and pours. rafe shakes his head and gets out of the car, walking over to you as you look up at him with a laugh.
you stick your tongue out and watch your spit pour down onto the ground with wide eyes. his eyes widened and his dick is immediately hardening when your wide eyes meet his.
"how long does that last." he asked, trying to adjust his pants as you looked down at the ground glistening in your spit. you shrug with a laugh, "i dunno ─ they said people use this for cotton mouth but i bet people use it to suck dick."
he shook his head ─ watching you close your mouth for a moment before opening it again, spit pouring down your lips and chin. you look up at him with raised eyebrows, his eyebrows raising too as he waits for you to say something.
"wanna try it?"
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you're on your knees in the back of rafe's car ─ holding all the saliva that's been begging to come out as rafe eagerly pulls his sweatpants and underwear down. you quickly grab his cock with one hand and open your mouth, letting everything drip on him.
he groans at the feeling of your warm spit and the sight of you in front of him. his hands pulling your hair into a makeshift ponytail as you wrap your lips around his cock ─ your dripping tongue twirling around his pink tip.
"shittt." he groans. you begin bopping your head on his cock, feeling your spit run down and your chin and drip onto the floor of his car. he grabs his phone sitting next to him, pulling the camera app up and turning the flash on while he records you.
your eyes meet the camera lens as you let his cock hit the back of your throat ─ his groans going straight to your needy pussy. after a few moments of literally slurping on his dick, he guides your head up and down his cock before pulling your head back.
"fuckkk, m'gonna cum ─ stick your tongue out, doll."
you stick your tongue out, letting the camera watch your saliva and his warm seed drip off your tongue and onto his cock ─ the seat below him glistening and his thick cock shining.
"mmm, 's your turn rafey." you lean over, grabbing the pack and popping one into his mouth ─ immediately switching positions with him and pulling your lace panties down, your ass laying flat against the puddle of spit as you wait for him to create an even bigger puddle while he drools over your sopping pussy.
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rodeorun · 5 months ago
Text
love in the dark.
yandere pretty boyfriend x fem!reader.
cw: drugging, black-mail, non-con blowjob, degradation. Featuring @meo-eiru 's OC, Elias ❤️
MDNI.
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“You better work,” Elias threatened the baby pink candle he was holding between pretty, manicured fingers.
One might even compare it to the young man himself. Long and more thin than thick, the pink wax at the tip molded into a heart shape, white wick sticking through the middle. Elias always had love on the brain, at least when it came to you. Pity he didn't have a fine white wick of logic to split his head in two, or rather, his heart. But, when you love the way he did, weren't those two practically the same thing?
He doesn't know how many hours he spent on the dark web to find this, some sort of ‘love candle.’ Whatever that bullshit meant. The description the seller left behind was short and to the point.
‘Ignite this candle in the presence of your desired person and watch them fall in love with you.’
Even Elias in all his lovesickness found it hard to believe, but it was that sickness itself that led him to purchasing the item. He hadn't gotten a gig lately so he prayed for the payment to go through, giving himself a headache for purchasing a mere candle that was six hundred and fifty dollars. God, the things he would do for you (or to you, but that's a completely different matter.)
You, the object of his affections. His sweet, sweet, sweet best friend who has saved him more times than he could count. You were entirely too good for him and he knew it.
A special knock on his door alerted him to your presence, and he knew it was you because you two had created that very knock in sophomore year of university. Long after he changed his name, you still had the heart to played with him like a child. Where others laughed at his girlish tears and overgrown sobs, you healed his inner child with every hug, every whisper, every time you'd look into his eyes and tell him, ‘it's okay, Elias. I'm here for you.’
And you always were.
No matter how bad his tantrums got, you never got sick of him. You were the only one who stayed. You practically conditioned him. How could he ever want anyone else after tasting a drop of your sweetness?
“Hi, darling!” Elias opened the door and pulled you in for a hug, kicking the door shut behind you. “Someone's mighty dressed up for a movie night in, hehe. Oooh, is this wine? Gimme gimmie!”
Taking the bag from your hands, Elias turned to put it on the table, laying a sweaty palm against his flushed cheek. Heaven, he couldn't do this much longer! Just a hug from you and a whiff of that perfume had him hardening in his yoga pants. He stayed faced away from you as he rocked side to side, subtly rubbing himself against the bottle you brought just for him. All for him.
“So, I was thinking we could start with a rom-com and then maybe a western, for variety, and after that there's a three hour long horror movie I found that-”
“Sorry, Elias.”
Glittering eyelids opened themselves.
“See, my boyfriend injured his arm in a game yesterday, so I need to go help cook for him,” you explained. Your sorry eyes seared into his back.
Ah, yes. That boyfriend of yours. Taller than Elias, bigger than Elias, handsome enough to be called a heartthrob and an athlete by profession. A real winner, that boyfriend of yours!
Elias wanted to spit on his corpse.
“Oh, your boyfriend!” He clasped his hands together and turned to face you. “The one who forgot to pick you up at the mall last week because he slept through his alarm, right? I remember him.” Elias fiddled with one of the bottles of wine now, snarling. So much for a ‘gift,’ you were just trying to buy his forgiveness.
“Yes, Eli, that boyfriend,” you chuckled. “But I forgave him for that, you know? Nobody's perfect.”
The illusion of bliss he was swept up in from hearing that sweet nickname quickly shattered.
‘Nobody's perfect.’ Elias knew that better than anyone else. Afterall, he was the last thing but, and yet you still treated him so preciously.
So, why? Why was it the very same thing he fell in love with you for, you were flaunting to just anyone? Don't you know that love isn't free? Especially not yours! How many bottles of hair dye, micro-needling appointments, collagen fillers, and waxing appointments did he go to for your love? By God he knows his deadname didn't deserve you, but didn't Elias at least earn a little bit of your attention?
How dare you, honestly. How dare you show someone else the kindness you won him over with? How dare you waltz in here just to stand him up for another man! How dare you fucking-
“Eli?”
“Yes, my beloved?”
You looked upon him tentatively, a testament to what a ticking time bomb he is. “Oh, alright, I forgive you.” He waved you off playfully and walked over to hold both of your hands in his. “But next time, I'll tie you up and keep you here forever, munchkin~”
Your laugh mingled with his. As if you thought he was joking.
“Ah, but, darling! At least have a drink with me before you go. It would be lonely to pop open a bottle by myself, hm?”
A single drink.
That's what you and Elias agreed on. One glass and you'd be on your way to that wretch. You didn't drive to get here and assured Elias that your boyfriend would drive you back home. As if.
“Oh, before we cheers,” Elias put his glass down and went to rummage for a box of matches, shaking his hips this way and that while humming in his search.
“Someone's in a good mood,” you grinned, watching him groove to imaginary music.
“Yes, with you around I always am,” he teased and returned to the table. He put the candle in the stand and lit it.
It was only a little unsettling that he watched you instead of the matches while he did so.
“That's a really cute candle, Elias. Where'd you get it?” you asked him as he sat down across from you, drink in hand.
“Oh, this old thing? It's just something I had laying around- Oh my god!”
Elias flinched as the candle suddenly exploded, letting out a small puff of wind that blew his hair back and left behind a plume of pink smog.
“Darling?! Are you- ack! You okay?” Elias wafted the air between hacking coughs until he could see your face again.
You looked shocked, as one would when a candle explodes in their face, but then you started laughing. Small titters that rang like a bell until it turned into gasps that made you grab your stomach.
“You're, hahahaha, so, so silly, Eli! Haha, where do you get these things?!”
Oh, honey. He couldn't stop loving you even if he tried.
“Oh, stop that, you! How was I supposed to know it would do that,” Elias played along, ears still tinged pink at his little blunder. You two looked at each other and then fell into joined laughter.
This light, airy feeling was a drug to him. No matter how boring he was, how flat his personality, you could always find something more in him. Something to talk about, to laugh about, to entertain him with. Something he couldn't find by himself.
It's like the universe sent you to him as if to say, ‘hey! This is the person who will make life worth living! The one who will take that mind numbing emptiness away!’
And who was he to deny the wishes of the universe?
“Worthless piece of junk,” Elias muttered when things settled down. The candle really was a sham then. “At least it smells nice,” he lit the candle again and waved the match to out it. “Anyways, I got a manicure today and the lady was way too rough with my cuticles. She should quit if that's the service she's going to give.”
He brought his nails up, inspecting the blood red polish.
He was met with silence.
“Darling?”
Your head was down, lip trapped between your teeth.
“R-Right. Well, it's pretty,” you shot him a sad kind of smile. “It's just, well, no. Hm, uh, no…I forgot, I guess?” Elias watched you scramble around until small tears dripped from your eyes. “I guess I just forgot that you see other women every day.”
His heart froze in his chest.
“And, I, I know she was just doing her job, but holding your hand while she did your nails- she did hold your hand, right? That's a little…”
You trailed off and wiped your tears, willing yourself to gather such thoughts while Elias looked on in shock.
His eyes flicked to the candle, to you, the candle, you. Always you.
“She did,” he said simply, cautiously, “hold my hand. Yes, she did.” Your face cumbled, making Elias shoot up. “But I hated it! I wished it was you! I want you to be the one holding my hand!”
“Really?” Those big, wet eyes pleaded with him. “Because, I get jealous, you know.”
Something below his belt started stirring.
“Is that so?” He hummed and pulled his chair over next to you, thumbing the tears under your eyes like you had done for him so many times before.
The light of the candle reflected in your eyes and when Elias glanced over, it had melted remarkably quickly. The leftover wax dripped onto the table but he couldn't care less.
First things first, he needed to make sure what he hypothesized was real. That this wasn't a ploy.
“You know, dear, I was very hurt when you started going out with that bastard. You hurt me, a lot. How do you think I felt?” He cooed like you were a child, soft and gentle in his palm.
“I'm so sorry, Eli. I'll break up with him, okay? I only want you! I'm really- mmph!”
Not the romantic first kiss he was dreaming of, but perfect nonetheless.
All this groveling and begging, over little ol’ him? It was too cute. He could just eat you up! But before that, it seems Elias was going to be devoured first.
“Darling? Ngh!” You were tangling your tongue with his, sucking his lips, his cheeks, his tongue, leaving little nibbles on his blushing skin. “Hold on, I need to-”
“Need to what, Eli? I need you right now,” you swallowed, “I feel like my body is on fire.”
Oh, god, the candle really did work. You were squirming on your chair, rubbing your legs together and giving him the absolute cutest puppy eyed stare. You wanted him. You wanted him.
“Yeah?” Elias said breathlessly, trying to keep pace with you, “well I think I need an apology for you cheating on me first.”
He stood up and pulled his oversized sweater up, letting you peek at the bulge growing underneath tight grey cotton.
“Oh, Eli! It's so pretty!” You weren't shy about rubbing him over his pants. “All of you is so, so pretty, baby. Can I…suck you?”
“Darling, I'm yours!” He said eagerly, the sudden onslaught of praise leaving him dizzy. “Anything you want to do, I'm yours!”
By the time you peeled down his pants and had his leaking dick positioned at your mouth, he was ready to burst. He was entirely ready to finally get his reward, but you hesitated.
“Wait, Eli. I think we should wait, um…my boyfriend. I should break up with him first.”
That goddamn candle should have come with a special feature to make you forget anyone but him all together.
Elias probably looked terrifying right now, fine features underlit by the glow of the candle, staring down at you harshly. For once, he didn't find your babbling cute. Not when every other word was your boyfriend's name. So, Elias kindly shut you up.
“There we go~” Elias cooed, thrusting his hips a little. “Ah, ah, darling. Don't run from it,” he giggled, “or I'll shove it down your fucking throat~”
You were choking on his cock, unable to pull away with how he had his fingers locked behind your head. More than you moving, it was Elias who was pumping himself in and out of your mouth, not stopping until his balls slapped against your chin every time.
“What a good little thing you are, angel. I love you so much! Hey, do you love me too? I asked if you loved me too!”
Even under the effects of the candle, you looked scared. Elias was frantic now, not only his balls hitting your chin, but his toned abdomen smashing into your face as he fucked your entire head roughly. “Dirty fucking bitch! I trusted you! I love you and you left me for dead to go date that idiot! Do you know how much that hurt me?! How much I need you?! You were supposed to me mine, all mine, just like I'm yours! You dirty, dirty f-fucking whore!” Elias let out a wet sob, spilling down your throat with his eyes screwed shut.
Heavy pants left his mouth as he stumbled back to sit on his chair, chest heaving up and down. Even through your coughing, you couldn't help but worry about him.
“Eli? A-Are you okay?”
What a wreck your voice was, no doubt you'd be feeling him in your throat for days.
“It's not all out.”
“Huh? I don't understand-”
“Lift your shirt up.” He wasn't asking.
The smooth expanse of your chest was revealed and Elias used it as extra motivation to get the last few drops of cum out, fisting his tip roughly to pull out those last thick strings. It pearled on your skin beautifully and you didn't hesitate to stick your tongue out, cleaning him off properly with soft sucks that made him tremble.
“Good girl,” he sighed and eventually sat. It was like the devil was released from him. He was just Elias again, your Eli. “That was my first blowjob, you know,” he giggled cutely, like you two were mischievous kids sharing secrets in a treehouse.
Elias sighed and leaned in to hug you after lifting his pants back over his soft length. “Oh, my baby. I can't believe this worked. Had I known, I wouldn't have done this sooner. I can't believe you're finally mine,” he mumbled into your hair. “I love you, darling. And you love me too, right?”
Silence.
“Darling?”
Elias held you at shoulder length away, not wanting to let go of you completely yet. “Hey, why the tears, darling? Hehe, do you love me that much? Aw, well-”
“I'm sorry, Elias.” Your dark pupils met his.
There was no reflection from the candlelight anymore. In fact, the flame had blown out completely by now, leaving behind a sad little puddle of wax.
Your arms pushed his off as you stood up. “Shit…I- oh god, my boyfriend. What's wrong with me?! I'm sorry, Eli- I mean, Elias, um, I think the wine was a bit too strong for me. I really didn't mean to…”
What the hell was this?! Was this- did your love only last while the candle was lit?!
“What the fuck!” Elias cursed loudly, fingers gripping his silky tresses. The situation was beckoning a meltdown.
“I know, Elias, I'm so sorry, but I don't know what came over me!”
You were scared, he could see it. And he's sure part of that fear was from the ache in your throat, the names he had called you when he was at the peak of bliss. How he carried on when he was so sure you were his completely. Over what, a stupid candle? He was an idiot! He had to do damage control.
“It's…alright, darling. It's okay. Hm,” Elias hummed as he thought, standing up to pace. “It's okay. Your boyfriend is waiting for you after all, run along now. It's getting late.”
“Elias?” You weren't sure what was going on.
“Don't worry, dear,” Elias looked at you with warm eyes. “I can keep a secret. We just got a little overwhelmed, didn't we?”
He was giving you a way out, obviously. But why?
“Right,” you said, unsure.
“That's okay, we all have our moments,” Elias giggled and walked over, wrapping his arms around you, letting one sneak down to cup your ass. “Some more than others.”
“I don't think we should be-”
“Be what? You already swallowed my load, pumpkin. Let it dribble all down your chin and everything,” he mused, rubbing a finger against your lower lip. “Or did you want to come clean to your boyfriend?”
“No! I really don't know what happened!”
“Then it's a secret,” Elias whispered, pulling you in for a kiss. You were helpless to him, unable to pull away under the looming threat of him snitching on you. His tongue traced your lips before he pulled away.
“I won't tell if you won't, darling.”
Elias sent you off with a few more kisses and a slap on your ass, already hard again and humping you like a dog all the way to the door where you left with tears in your eyes. You were just too cute!
It wasn't much, but it was something. The only excitement Elias could offer you. Now, he had a personality.
He was your secret lover.
“Aha! How wonderful!” Elias twirled around in excitement. What an adventure!
Soon, he'd guilt your sweet soul into breaking up with that idiot and you'd be all his. He already had a foot in the door after all.
Bringing a hand to his lips, he recalled the way yours felt against his. Marvelous, absolutely marvelous!
Hmm..
Elias took his phone out and sent you a quick text.
‘I think I left some lipstick on you, darling. Clean that up before you see you know who ;)’
Not even moment later, his phone rang.
“Hey, Elias?”
“Eli,” he corrected.
“Yeah, can you not-”
“Eli.”
“…Eli. Uh, can you not send texts like that, please? Just in case he sees.”
A shiver ran up Elias’ spine at the secrecy of it all. You two were bound by sin.
“Of course, darling. I'll call you tonight then.”
“I'm spending the night with him,” you said nervously. “I can't.”
“Alright then, I'll just text you,” Elias inspected his nails casually.
“But-! Ugh, fine. I'll call you later.”
“Perfect. We'll talk soon then. Make sure your camera is on, I'm still throbbing over here,” he giggled.
“I have to go now,” you whispered.
“I love you, darling.”
“Yes, he's coming so-”
“I said I love you!”
“…I love you too, Eli. Bye.”
Elias waited for you to hang up with a smile. You were already cracking under the pressure of your unwanted affair. Sure it would hurt you now, but if this didn't last long then it would be him hurting later. Surely, you wouldn't be able to deal with that, not your kind heart. After all, his beauty is something that shouldn't be marred, you said so yourself.
It was only a matter of time now.
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a/n: I actually finished this over a week ago but the Elias lore kept pouring in and I was scrambling to edit to make this as canon as possible but I gave up sooooo, yeah 😃 just imagine this as eli if he actually acted on half the shit he wants to do ig lmfaooo
Also can't believe I wrote unwilling reader because Elias is literally my baby muffin snuggly pie googlie bear and i love him, but i love men suffering more ig 💗
Divider: /animatedglittergraphics-n-more
Please do not ask for part 2. Thank you!
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merthosus · 5 months ago
Text
The Deli
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Summary: You saw Five and Lila cheating and end up in a random train station. As a Diner caught your eye you couldn't believe what or rather who was waiting for you inside. Summary: You saw Five and Lila cheating and end up in a random train station. As a Diner caught your eye you couldn't believe what or rather who was waiting for you inside.
Here a sexy poster from Five I fell in love with! With every purchase you automatically support me :) https://amzn.to/3yGK6Fm
"You have no idea what most of the Fives in here would do for you"
I stumble out of the train, almost tripping over the edge. This can't be, he would never. I hate him, I never thought that I could do this but I do. My heart was shattered, it felt like it was being torn out of my torso and ripped in thousand parts. How could he do this to me? How could he do this to Diego? I have no idea where I am, or rather when I am. But I didn't care I just walked along the train station. My heels clicked with every step they took. The sound echoed with every thud on the white tiles.
I caught them. Five was missing and in my head there where millions of horrible ideas what could be happened to him. I can't believe I worried. We gone through so much shit and he shattered everything just like it was nothing. I traveled so far with these damn trains, no idea how I could possible come home again, just to caught them kissing each other. These assholes! Slowly the sadness turned into anger and every step I take gets louder.
In the distance I see red light reflecting on the floor. I swear to god if this is a trainstation-stripclub I trow myself on the rails. Seeing so much today what I couldn't believe makes me getting the wildest ideas, expecting anything but normal. I step closer and what I see is a Diner. Without hesitation I enter. I would kill for a chocolate croissant and a nice cup of coffee right now. But as soon as I entered everything went silent. Even a fly could be heard.
As shocked as they were as shocked I was. "This can't be", I mumble to myself. Every pair of eyes, which stared me down, were his. The Five which was now coming out of the back, let his tablet fall onto the ground. The sudden loud noise made the other ones fall out of their trance. "Y/n?", a few said, but others were just looking. "She's mine!", one of the Five's screams. Others were already talking him down. Another was punching a different Five and two got them apart. Without hesitation one five stood up and walked towards me. "I am sorry it's been a long time since they seen you", he says confusing me even more. "i...I what the hell is going on?", I ask, not believing what I saw standing infont of me.
"You just kissed Lila and now you are talking with me as nothing has happened? And what is this here? A stupid joke?", I ask him outraged. "Oh no darling I am not the five you know. I am coming out of a different timeline, but wouldn't you like to sit as I explain?", he asks politely. Like it was the most normal thing I go to sit with him at one of the diner tables, ignoring the fact that at least twenty versions of my boyfriend were looking down at me. As we sit down the Five on the counter rushed to our table.
"The black coffee, cappuccino and the chocolate croissant will be on your table soon", he stumbles, while looking at me. "How...?", I begin to ask but he was faster gone than I could blink. I feel more comfortable now as I saw how the attention was no longer drawn to me. "Explain, now", I demand as I was staring the Five before me down. "Feisty, as I remembered you", he says. I can't help myself but smile a little bit. "Why are there so many of you? And why was the one so obsessed", I ask. He crocked his neck. "We are all different Fives, out of different timelines. Most of them lost their Y/n, that's why things got out of hand", he explained. "So your five cheated on you? That's new, none of us did that, guess a new timeline has formed. Why would he do that...?", he asks himself.
I was shocked, overdosed with unimaginable information. "So what happened to your Y/n?", I ask him, just releasing I went to far. "She died in a fight, Hazel shot her", he says. "Five over there, who said you were his. She killed herself", he explains some more. I can't believe what he was just saying. "I would never do such a thing", I say. "No. Yourself in this timeline wouldn't but the on in his did. It's the same with us, we are all the same but different at the same time. I would never cheat on you and that's the point", he looks down on the floor. "I will find him don‘t worry, he will pay for what he did", he says while my eyes get big. "No... no he's still my Five I...", I try to bring the words out of me.
"Darling...", he leans over the table looking me staring into the eyes. "You have no idea what most of the Fives in here would do for you. Every single one of us is better as this little small cocked asshole", he says. I get nervous and have trouble looking him into the eyes. "He doesn't have a small...", I try to say. "I know I know...", he interrupts me.
Let me know what you think in the comments!
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0cta9on · 6 months ago
Text
Lessons
Length: +7k words
Genre: Smut
IVE Gaeul x Male Reader
(Author's Note: Thank you to the buyer for purchasing this commission, and thank you to @msafterhours for beta reading! If you are interested in purchasing a commission from me or simply want to leave a little tip, head on over to my ko-fi page!)
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【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★
“Ugh, this is so fucking annoying!” Gaeul groans, slamming her fist against the table, the clattering of silverware echoing throughout the apartment. Wonyoung, used to her sudden bursts of anger, doesn’t even look up from her phone. “I already told that old guy from SBS that I’m not interested, yet he keeps spamming my messages!”
“Why did you give him your number in the first place if you’re not interested?” Wonyoung inquires.
Gaeul’s cheeks turn a bright red, her gaze falling nervously to the side. “...You know why.”
“Because you’re horny?” Wonyoung posits, raising her brow.
The older girl’s face falls into her hands in misery, emitting a deep guttural groan that carries the weight of her dissatisfaction. “This is so unfair, how did you guys find boyfriends and I have to slog through all these gross older men and obnoxious boy group members?” Gaeul glances at her with a pout on her lips. “Am I ugly or something?”
Wonyoung sighs, gently holding her groupmate’s hand from across the table. “Of course you’re not ugly, you’re just… unlucky.” Gaeul faceplants into the table, her muffled whimpers eliciting sympathy from the younger girl. “Look, why don’t you just ask out our manager already? I’ve seen the way you look at him.”
Gaeul’s face shoots up, tomato red with panic. “W-what are you talking about!? That’s our manager, that’s w-weird!”
Wonyoung scoffs. “And you think touching yourself while moaning his name isn’t weird?”
“H-how did y-”
“These walls are paper thin, just because you play ocean noises in the background doesn’t mean we can’t hear you.”
Gaeul sinks into her chair, covering her face in embarrassment. With a sigh, Wonyoung pulls up a website on her phone and slides it across the table. “Here, a bunch of my friends used this website when they were in your position and they all managed to find a boyfriend within a week.”
The older girl scans the phone, immediately grimacing at the shoddy nature of the website. Aside from an embedded video in the middle of the site and a measly drop down menu titled “Lessons”, it’s essentially barebones. All the text is in Comic Sans for some god awful reason, and whatever moron made this sorry excuse for a website decided to use bright orange over pink. It’s like wrapping a terrible gift in even uglier wrapping paper.
“Wonyoung, this is… grim,” she mutters.
Wonyoung shrugs. “The results speak for themselves.” She takes her phone back and walks towards her room at the end of the hallway. “You better watch those videos. You’re already ruining my beauty sleep, I won’t let you ruin beaches for me too,” she calls out, her bedroom door slamming behind her.
Gaeul leans her head against her palm, contemplating her options. She could ignore Wonyoung’s advice and continue to foolishly look around for dick until her standards drop so low that she ends up sleeping with — God forbid — some washed up 2nd gen idol, or she could learn a thing or two from that hideous website and ask out her hot manager, potentially making things awkward between them for the rest of her career. 
She barely has to think about it before pulling out her phone, pulling up the website in mere seconds. With a deep breath, she presses play on the first video.
______________________________________________________________
LESSON 1: HOW TO GET A MAN
Being the manager of one of the biggest girl groups in the world leaves you with little energy and even less free time. At first, it was fun. When IVE first debuted, they were nervous yet excited about finally achieving the dreams they’ve worked so hard for, and you wanted to help them out anyway you could, becoming a strong pillar that they can rely on. 
However, after a couple years of idol experience under their belt combined with their very quick rise to stardom, the job that you once loved turned into a complete nightmare, which only worsened once the girls found partners. Just last week, you had to wrestle a camera away from a Dispatch worker after he took photos of Rei sucking off her boyfriend in the middle of a park—all of this at 3 fucking AM. To add salt to the wound, instead of being commended for preventing a potential PR disaster, you got chewed out by your supervisor for not managing them well enough. Sure, let’s ignore the million other times you’ve warned them about doing stupid things in public that they keep ignoring. 
At least not all of them are a handful to deal with since Gaeul doesn’t have a boyfr-
*Ring Ring*
Speak of the devil. You answer your phone.
“Hey Gaeul, what’s up?”
“H-hi, um…” She clears her throat, her nervousness putting you on edge.
“Is something wrong? Are you in trouble?”
“N-no, it’s nothing like that! It’s just, uh… Are you busy tomorrow?”
You scan your desk, cluttered with a messy pile of paperwork. Even at your most productive, it’ll take you the entire week to get through everything alongside the plethora of meetings you’ll have to attend. “Yeah, I’ll probably be busy tomorrow, why?”
“Oh, um… How about Saturday?”
“Gaeul, what is this about?”
“Just…!” She sighs audibly in frustration. “Yes or no?”
Rolling your eyes, you take a quick glance at your calendar. Aside from a note that says “buy groceries”, it seems like your entire weekend is free. “Yes, I’m free on Saturday. What is this-”
“Great! I’ll text you an address. Be there at 5pm sharp. Bye!”
“Wai-”
Gaeul hangs up before you can utter another word, leaving you to wonder what all of this is about and why she sounded so nervous over the phone. Your mind runs through all the potential scenarios this could be. As far as you know, there aren’t any events Ive are performing at and filming for their YouTube show doesn’t start until next week. Could this be a prank the girls are pulling on you?
Even as you look up the address she sent you, all you're left with is more questions than answers.
______________________________________________________________
LESSON 2: HOW TO ACT PROPER ON A DATE
Saturday rolls around after another particularly difficult week of running around protecting IVE’s image. If you’re being honest, you fully expected to pass away from stress alone after Yujin and Liz nearly got caught having a foursome in someone’s pool by Dispatch yet again. At the very least, this photographer didn’t put up nearly as much of a fight as the last one.
As you travel to the far side of the city and stroll up to the fancy restaurant Gaeul all but forced you to come to, you silently pray that this isn’t some weird way of her announcing her new relationship to you. You enter the restaurant, almost immediately receiving a glare of disdain from the host as he scans your casual outfit of a T-shirt and jeans, unbefitting of the atmosphere.
“I’m sorry sir, but we have a strict dress code and we unfortunately cannot seat you with your current outfit,” he says, flashing a condescending smile.
“Actually, sorry if this is weird, but is a woman named Gaeul here?” you ask, ignoring his poor attitude.
He looks down at his podium, scanning through some papers before his expression suddenly shifts into something more genial. “Ah, of course! Right this way, sir.” He leads you down a side hallway that’s hidden away from the main seating area, and brings you to one of many doors. “Ms. Gaeul is right in this room, sir.”
You open the door, your jaw hitting the floor in awe as you scan the intricate decorations that adorn the room. A golden chandelier hangs overhead, illuminating everything in a warm glow, while beautifully realistic paintings of fruit bowls and flower vases hang on the walls. In the center of the room sits a table, draped with a red silk cloth and topped with lit candles that set a sort of romantic mood. Gaeul sits on one end, sporting a black strapless dress that shows off her milky skin and thin figure.
“Hi!” She says, walking to you with outstretched arms. “I’m so glad you could make it!”
“Hey— o-oh.” You flinch in surprise as she pulls you into a warm embrace, instinctually slotting your arm around her delicate waist. It’s the first hug you’ve shared with one of the members, and your discomfort quickly fades as you sink into her. 
“Have a seat, make yourself comfortable,” she says. You sit across from her, your eyes darting around the room, overwhelmed by the ambience. “You like the view?”
“Yeah, this place is pretty cool, but why did you want me to come here?”
“To surprise you of course!” 
Just then, a procession of servers files through the door, carrying silver platters full of food. With each dish they place, you salivate more and more, your stomach rumbling intensely. By the time the last dish is set, the entire table is filled with various dishes of different smells, colors, and textures, none of it discernible but all of it delicious. The final cherry on top is the bottle of expensive wine that the server pours into your glass. This is it. This is Heaven.
“Since you work so hard for us, I thought it would be fitting to treat you to a nice meal,” Gaeul explains, smiling at you. “You deserve it.
“W-wow, this is just… thank you so much, Gaeul,” You say, still scanning the food in front of you. “I wish you would’ve told me to wear something nicer though. That guy at the front side-eyed me the second I walked in.”
“It’s okay, I think you look sexy in anything you wear,” she giggles, cutting her laughter short with a bite of her lip. For a split second, you swear your heart skips a beat.
Blush grows on your cheeks, taken aback by her sudden compliment. “O-oh, uh, thanks. You look, um, very nice too.”
“Just nice?” She pouts cutely. “I got all dressed up for you and that’s all you’re gonna say?”
The heat in your face deepens as you nervously avert your gaze. You compliment the girls all the time, why do you suddenly feel weird about it now? “You look… very pretty, Gaeul.”
She grins warmly, satisfied by your answer. “Thank you. Now eat up! It’s all for you.”
You spend the next few minutes in pure bliss trying out every single dish, each bite better than the last. Sweet, savory, bitter, earthy, flavor combinations you never even knew existed dance around on your taste buds; pair that with the rich taste of the wine and suddenly, you’re floating on cloud nine.
“How’s the food?” She asks. “You look like you’re enjoying yourself.”
“Of course I am,” you say, grinning at her. “I’m eating delicious food and drinking expensive wine with a beautiful girl.”
“Oh?” Her brow raises with intrigue, a smirk playing on her glossy lips. “Beautiful? I thought you said I was just pretty?”
“I-I mean yeah, the entire world thinks you’re beautiful,” you stutter, trying to keep your inhibitions in check, a task that’s becoming increasingly difficult with the amount of alcohol you’ve consumed.
“Okay, but what do you think?” Gaeul leans in like a predator backing up its prey into a corner, her light-hearted tone dropping to reveal something more sultry.
You gulp, beads of sweat forming on your head. “W-well, I think you’re a great performer and-”
“That’s not what I meant,” she states, staring intently at you. “Have you ever thought about me? Imagining what you would do to me if we were all alone with no one to bother us, just me and you?” She brings her spoon to her lips, giving it a slow, sensuous lick without ever breaking eye contact.
You shiver as her tongue dances across the silver, desperately wishing it was you instead of the damn spoon. You shouldn’t be having these impure thoughts—though you’d be lying if you said this is the first time you’ve looked at Gaeul this way. You’re her manager, Starship will toss you out in an instant if they suspect that you took the job just to get with the idols. But it’s so hard to think properly with the alcohol flowing through your system and the tightening in your pants.
 Tell her no. Stop her advances immediately before things get out of hand. Yet, you don’t object as Gaeul takes your hand, leading you out of the restaurant. The words start to meld together like goo, all you can make out is an utterance of a “good time” and how you’ve been such a “good boy”. You say a lot of things to her, probably—it’s hard to talk with her tongue shoved in your mouth—but as the taxi takes you to the familiar route towards her apartment, the only clear thought running through your head is how impossible it is to tell this girl “no”. 
______________________________________________________________
LESSON 3: HOW TO PLEASURE A MAN
Gaeul tosses her phone on her bed, scoffing in disgust. After her conversation with Wonyoung last night, she binge watched the first two lessons, even jotting down notes to remember for later. As much as she would hate to admit it, the questionable looking website is an information goldmine for a desperate soul like hers, it’s a wonder how she hasn’t stumbled upon it before. However, her view of it immediately soured again after watching the third lesson.
“Act submissive? Let him do whatever he wants?” Gaeul questions, reiterating the points made in the video. “What kind of bullshit advice is this? If I’m gonna sleep with someone, I’m not trying to be their little fuck doll or whatever!”
She paces around her room, hands running through her hair over and over again as the thoughts bounce around her frustrated mind. What’s the point in doing all this work trying to get a boyfriend if it only amounts to his pleasure? What about her needs? Is she supposed to be happy being reduced to a glorified cum rag?
Fuck no. A sudden realization hits her like a bolt from the blue — She’s Gaeul from IVE. An icon in one of if not the most popular girl group in the world. Any man should feel lucky that she even gave them the time of day.
With a newfound determination, Gaeul picks up her phone, her finger hovering tentatively over the “Call” button on her manager’s contract. She’ll use what she learned in the first two videos for sure; she’s not dumb enough to completely disregard their teachings. But if—no, when things get to the bedroom, she’ll do things her own way.
______________________________________________________________
You and Gaeul stumble through the door of the dorm, lips, limbs, and fingers intertwined in a needy ball of lust. Don’t even bother making it to her room, half of your clothes are already off by the time you reach the living room. Palm her toned stomach, savor the taste of her lewd moans dancing off her tongue and onto yours, shiver as her nails graze against your skin. Do all the dirty things you’ve kept hidden in the back of your mind.
Gaeul breaks away, sitting back on the couch as she strips away the rest of her dress, leaving her in a matching set of black undergarments. She spreads her legs, inviting you to fill the space in between.
“Eat me out,” she commands, words unwavering even as the sheen of arousal coating her thighs tells you exactly how badly she needs this. You quickly oblige, practically diving face first into her sweet heat. Discard her soaked panties; to you, they’re just another obstacle keeping you from what you really want.
“Good boy~,” Gaeul moans as you attack her slit with your tongue. You alternate between long, slow licks to flicking your tongue furiously against her clit. She yanks at your hair, forcing you to take a whiff of her sex. Her scent is intoxicating. You don’t even feel the pain anymore, all you can think about is about pleasuring her gorgeous pussy.
“F-fuck yes, lick my pussy, you fucking perv!” she goads you on and you follow her every command like the dog that you are. Her slim thighs wrap around your head, forcing you deeper and deeper into her until it’s physically impossible for you to get any closer. Forget the alcohol, you’re getting drunker on the sweet nectar dripping from her hole.
Fuck her with your fingers as you lap at her clit with a hunger you’ve never felt before. Her guttural moans are like a siren song, drawing you into her. The way her face contorts with pleasure is so alluring. You thought she was attractive already, but fuck this is the kind of beauty that only you are lucky enough to see. No hounding fans, no Dispatch, just you and Gaeul.
She grabs your hair, pulling you away from her heat, much to your dismay. “Take your fucking cock out,” she commands before pushing you back onto the floor. You make quick work of your boxers, but before you can ask for a condom, Gaeul’s already climbing all over you, lining up your painfully erect cock with her slit.
“W-wait, Gaeul-”
She clasps her hand over your mouth, leering at you with a ravenous glare. “I’ve waited too long for this to use a damn condom. You’re just gonna have to pull out or I’m kicking your ass out into the streets, got it?”
You nod, both terrified and turned on by this new side of Gaeul. With her hand still covering your mouth, she slowly impales herself on your rod, her face silently contorting with each inch of you she takes. You move to grab her hips, but she swats your hand away.
“Absolutely fucking not, we’re doing this my way,” she growls at you. All you can do is submit as she fucks herself onto you at a selfishly slow pace like you’re nothing more than her personal dildo. Your hot breath flows through the miniscule gaps in between her fingers, not even giving you the luxury of a deep breath. You want to get angry, you want to show her who’s boss, but each time she slams her hips down onto you, it’s like she sucks away your will to fight little by little until you're completely left at her mercy.
“Fuck, this is so much better than using my fingers,” she groans, throwing her head back in ecstasy. “I bet you’ve imagined this before, huh? Filling my pussy with your disgusting cock?”
You nod sheepishly. Her words aren’t entirely false; you’ve imagined what it would be like to sleep with some of the girls, but never did you think you would actually get the chance to. Gaeul rocks her hips back and forth, relishing in the way your breath quickens and your eyes twitch with each slam of her petite hips. You feel yourself begin to reach the apex of your climax and urgently tap her thighs to warn her, but all she does is laugh in your face.
“You wanna dump your cum deep into my cunt, don’t you? Impregnate me with your disgusting seed?” she teases. “I’m not on the pill. What are you gonna do?”
Your eyes clamp shut, trying desperately to ignore the building sensation in the pit of your stomach. But with her warm walls making you lose all sense of control, it’s only a matter of time before you inevitably burst inside of her. Right at the last second, you grab Gaeul’s hips and lift her off of you, shooting your cum onto your stomach. Gaeul’s body shakes violently as she reaches her own orgasm, furiously rubbing at her clit as her juices spray all over your torso. Once her messy climax subsides, she scoops a dollop of your semen off of your stomach and licks it, swirling your combined juices in her mouth with a smirk.
“Mmm, tasty,” she says, cupping your chin while her other hand strokes your semi-hard shaft. “You better get it up soon, I’m not done using you.”
“Y-yes…” you mutter, still basking in the high of your orgasm.
Her grip on your face deepens, digging her nails into your cheek. “Yes, who?”
“Yes… mistress,” you utter like the word is commonplace on your tongue. With an amused smirk, Gaeul plants a kiss on your lips, much gentler than you had anticipated.
“You learn quickly. Good boy~” Hearing her say that makes your skin shiver in delight, craving the sensual lilt in her voice. You want her approval. You need her approval. With her, you’re not her manager anymore, you’re her plaything that lives to serve her.
Gaeul bites her lip as she looks down at your cock, already at full mast once again. “Carry me to my room.”
“Yes, mistress,” you answer promptly, scooping her up into your arms. Gaeul nips at your ear as you carry her to her room, trapping yourself inside with the little beast that you’ve worked with for years. The line of morality blurs to the point of disappearing, almost as if it was never there in the first place. It doesn’t matter anymore. All you care about is serving your mistress until she’s completely satisfied.
______________________________________________________________
Your eyes blink open to sunlight peeking through the window. The mattress feels oddly soft, more so than usual. Maybe it’s finally time to bite the bullet and get a new mattress. A blinding headache keeps you glued to your back, unable to make any sudden movements. Your ceiling fan looks odd too. Has it always been this big?
The door clicks open followed by a few light footsteps. “Good morning!” That’s Gaeul’s voice. Why is that Gaeul’s voice?
Panic begins to ensue as you finally look around the room. This isn’t your room. This isn’t your mattress. That’s not your ceiling fan. And where the hell are your clothes?
“W-what the-”
“Here.” Gaeul hands you a water bottle. “I bet your hangover is killing you right now.”
You quickly cover yourself with a blanket, blushing sheepishly. “G-Gaeul… Why am I here? A-and where are my cloth-” Your jaw drops in shock as you scan her outfit — She’s wearing your t-shirt paired with nothing but black panties.
“W-why are you wearing my shirt!?”
She pouts at you, placing the water bottle on her nightstand. “Do you not remember what happened last night?” She leans in with a smirk. “Because I definitely do.”
Her warmth tickles your ear. It’s an oddly… pleasant feeling, but that’s not important right now. “D-did we…?”
“Have sex?” Gaeul finishes your sentence, sitting down next to you. “Yes, we did. And it was amazing.”
Your face falls into your hands. You could lose your job for this. Hell, you could get blacklisted from the entire industry. No one’s going to want to hire a manager that fucked an idol they were supposed to be managing. This is it. You’re gonna have to flee the country, maybe even change your name. You’ll become a beet farmer on some remote island where your only friend is a seagull and-
“Hey,” Gaeul soothes you, rubbing your back. “You look worried. Do you wanna talk about it?”
“I-I should’ve never let this happen, I could lose my job, my apartment, my-”
“You’re not gonna lose your job,” she assures you. “If they fire you, I’ll threaten to leave the group.” You turn to her, confused. “W-what, why?”
“Because…” A light blush grows on her cheeks. “I like you. And you made me feel sooo good last night.”
“U-um…”
“Do you still not remember what happened?” she sighs. You shake your head no. “Hmm… maybe this will help jog your memory.”
With a smirk, Gaeul cups your chin, forcing you to look at her. Her hair is still messy and her face is barren without makeup, yet she still looks so beautiful in front of you. She leans in, giving you that same pleasant feeling as her breath dances on your earlobe.
“Good boy.”
Like a movie, the scenes of last night’s misdeeds play vividly in your mind, reminding you exactly what transpired: The dinner. The taxi ride. The sex. Holy fuck, the sex. You’ve dated submissive girls before, but the way Gaeul dominated you was a whole different experience, nothing you’ve ever felt before. She took away your ability to breathe properly, completely leaving you at her mercy, and you enjoyed it. It felt dirty, but it felt good.
Gaeul chuckles as she notices your erection poking through the blanket. “Did that turn you on?”
“N-no, uh…”
“You’re really gonna be shy about it now? It looked like you were enjoying yourself more than I was last night,” she teases.
The blush on your cheeks deepen. “L-look, I… I’ve never done that kind of thing before. Hell, I’ve never had sex with an idol before. This is all kinda new to me,” you admit.
Gaeul sighs, gazing at the wall in contemplation. “I’ve never done anything like that before either. But I liked it.” She turns to you. “Did you like it?”
“Uh… Yeah. I did.”
“Would you want to keep doing it?”
The threat of losing your job still lingers in your mind. This is all new and potentially dangerous territory, and you have no idea what the future could possibly hold for either of you. But you would be the biggest idiot in the world if you lied to yourself and declined her offer.
“Yeah. I want to keep doing this with you,” you say. With a smile, Gaeul tears away the blanket and excitedly jumps into your lap, her crotch resting on your exposed erection. The thin fabric of her panties is the only thing keeping you separated from her sweet pussy.
“So does that mean you’ll be my boyfriend?” She asks, now grinding her hips against you. Your breath gets thinner as the heat of ecstasy fills up your entire body.
“Y-yes, I would love to be your boyfriend.”
Gaeul grabs your chin, her nails sinking into the flesh of your cheeks. “Yes, who?”
A moan escapes your lips as the pleasure mixes with the pain, leaving you in a state of bliss. “Yes, mistress.”
She smirks at you before taking off your shirt, revealing her perky tits and her petite waist to you. “Good boy. I can’t wait to play with you some more~”
______________________________________________________________
LESSON 4: HOW TO MAKE IT LAST
The last few weeks have been the most exciting weeks of your life. All the previous stress of working as IVE’s manager practically disappeared now that you were with Gaeul. No more wrestling with Dispatch after one of the members gets caught anymore, all she has to do is assert her dominance as the oldest and the rest of the members will listen to her. If you knew that a cheat sheet was underneath your nose this whole time, you would’ve dated her sooner.
Of course, to avoid any controversy and damage to the group, your relationship was kept a secret from everyone, including the members. However, that didn’t stop her from constantly calling you to fulfill her needs. It doesn’t matter where, when, or how many people are around, if she’s in need of release, you’re on your knees, lapping at her pussy like it’s your last meal. Gaeul is absolutely crazy, but you would be downright insane to tell your mistress “no”.
After a couple of close calls, both of you decided that it would be best to come clean to her members about your relationship. It’s already hard enough trying to keep your hands off of each other; you wouldn't want any of them to walk in on the two of you while your tongue is deep inside your girlfriend. At first, you assumed that Gaeul would simply send a quick text to the girls to alert them, but it seems like she has some other plans in mind as the two of you wait for them in one of Starship’s meeting rooms.
Gaeul moans in delight as you suck on her neck while she grinds against your leg. “Fuck, that feels good, baby,” she coos.
“Not that I’m complaining, but don’t you think it’ll be awkward if they walk in on us like this?” You ask, nipping at her ear.
“I locked the door, so they’ll have to knock before they can come in.” Of course she accounted for that. God, you fucking love her. “Now shut up and get back to sucking.”
“Yes, mistress,” you oblige, sinking your fingers into her ass as you ravage her neck. However, your playtime is cut short as a knock at the door signals the presence of the other girls.
“God dammit,” you groan. “Can we make this quick, babe? I need you so badly.”
Gaeul flashes you a mischievous smirk, giving you a soft parting kiss before climbing out of your lap. “Don’t worry, cutie, we’ll get to have some fun sooner than you think.” You ogle at her hips as she sashays over to the door, unlocking it and smiling brightly at Wonyoung, Yujin, Liz, and Rei as they file through. You try to offer a similar smile, but with the aching in your jeans, you’re barely coherent enough to breathe properly.
“I’m so glad you guys could make it!” Gaeul exclaims, locking the door behind them.
“Of course!” Yujin replies. “You said you had an important announcement, so that means it’s important to us too!”
“Couldn’t you just text us though? And why is our manager here?” Rei asks, eyeing the two of you suspiciously. You nervously avert your gaze, looking towards Gaeul for support.
“Because he’s part of this and I wanted to show you guys something in person,” Gaeul explains. She takes a quick breath before continuing. “So, I’m sure you’re all aware of how much I’ve been complaining about not having a boyfriend, and-”
“Wah! You got a boyfriend!?” Liz exclaims, connecting the dots fairly quickly. “Who is it? Is it that one rookie that was staring at you during recording last week?”
“Ew, no,” she grimaces. “It’s actually someone all of you know very well.” Gaeul suddenly climbs onto your lap, planting a delicate kiss on your cheek. Normally, you would feel pretty nervous about doing something this vulgar in front of others, but her body heat combined with your raging hormones from your interrupted makeout session makes you completely forget about everyone else. A billion people could be watching and you would still let this gorgeous beauty do anything she wants to your body.
The girls applaud at Gaeul’s announcement, except for Wonyoung, who overdramatically rolls her eyes at the news. “You called us in to tell us this? It was so obvious you two were dating, you were practically attached at the hip for the past couple weeks.”
Gaeul chuckles, eyes darkening as she captures you with her gaze. “Actually, there’s something else I wanted to show you guys too.” Much to your dismay, she gets off of you and drags a chair some distance away from you, sitting down. “You see, our manager here is actually a bit of a freak.”
The girls stifle their laughter as they glance at you, causing your cheeks to burn with embarrassment and confusion. “U-um, babe? W-what are you-”
“I could’ve acted like some ‘ditzy little fuck doll’ and let him have his way with me,” Gaeul scoffs, disdain dripping in her tone. “But then I thought ‘Why should I let him have all the fun? Our dear manager is always bossing us around, so why don’t I take charge for once?’ Granted, it was a gamble, but it paid off sooo fucking well. Don’t you agree, baby?”
Your cheeks grow redder by the second as they all look at you expectantly. “I-I mean, yeah, I-I liked it-” Suddenly, a piece of fabric hits you in the face. You examine it in your hands, your eyes growing wide with shock as you realize what it is — Gaeul’s shirt.
The rest of her members cheer at her boldness while your heart pounds against your chest, tracing her silhouette with your hungry gaze. “Crawl,” she commands.
Your eyes dart nervously between her and the rest of the girls, desire and judgment warring in your mind. “B-b-but-”
“I didn’t say you could speak,” she spits, her eyes narrowing. “Now, be a good boy and fucking crawl.”
A flip switches in your brain as desire wins the war by a landslide. Any hint of embarrassment you once held is now gone, replaced by an overwhelming amount of lust. You fall to your hands and knees, ignoring the hollering from the other girls. To you, they don’t exist anymore. All that matters is satisfying your mistress in any way you can. 
Gaeul harshly grips your hair once you reach her, forcing you to stare into her eyes. The heat from her breath hits your face, driving you mad with want. You swear a glob of drool falls from your lip at the thought of getting to taste her sweet pussy again. 
She drags her thumb over your lips, smirking. “Tell them what you are,” she orders, turning your head towards her members. Wonyoung rests her head against her palm like she’d rather be somewhere else, while Yujin starts recording you with her phone, no doubt to hold it over your head if you inconvenience her later on. Liz stares at you, deeply flustered, yet a hint of jealousy in her eyes, and you notice Rei sneakily trying to touch herself, her face beet red with pent up arousal.
“I am mistress’s plaything. I live to satisfy her and her alone, no matter where or when she asks me to,” you state. Wonyoung mouths an impressed “Oh wow” at Gaeul before glancing at you with a hint of disgust in her eyes.
Your hair is yanked back towards your girlfriend. “Mmm, it’s cute just how pathetic you fucking look. I bet you want your reward now, don’t you?” She teases the hem of her shorts with her other hand, flashing a glimpse of her panties at you. You nod enthusiastically, ignoring the pain in your scalp while you pant like a dog with desperation.
“Y-yes, please. I want you so badly, mistress. I crave the taste of your sweetness,” you beg. She smirks at you before standing up and removing her shorts, leaving just the fabric of her panties to block you from the true prize within like a wrapper on a candy bar. Hastily, you move your hands to the hem of her panties, but she quickly swats them away.
“Use your teeth, you fucking dog,” she spits.
“Yes, mistress.” As you get closer to her heat, her scent wafts through your nose, sending your mind deeper into a frenzy. You bite down onto the hem and jerk your head downwards, quickly uncovering the object of your desire hiding underneath. With her panties hanging from your teeth, you look up at her in search of her approval.
“Damn, I wish my boyfriend was that obedient…” Liz mutters under her breath.
Gaeul gently cups your chin, smiling at you with a palpable desire in her eyes. You love that look. You want her to look at you like that all the time, even if it means humiliating yourself in front of the girl group that you are paid to take care of. You are her pet, her plaything, her good boy that does anything she wants.
“Lick my pussy, baby,” she whispers, commanding yet soft. She bites her lip as she watches your face inch closer and closer to her dripping core, glistening and beautiful. You run your tongue along her slit, gratefully lapping at her juices while your hands caress her slender thighs. Gaeul grinds her hips against your face, pulling at your hair every time you make contact with her clit.
“F-fuck yes!” she moans, forgetting about the audience that she brought along. “J-just like that… Such a good boy… K-keep fucking me with that tongue, oh fuck!”
The sound of her pleasure is your favorite song, but it gets harder to hear as her thighs clamp around your ears. No matter; you’re doing this for her and not for you, after all. Double your efforts to please her, work your fingers into her hole while you flick your tongue against her clit. Don’t worry about the cramping in your tongue or the lack of oxygen in your lungs. All the pain is worth it for your mistress.
You feel her entire body contract as her orgasm overtakes, nearly collapsing on top of you in the process. You do your best to support her body, all while drinking up her nectar like it’s the first drop of rainfall during a long drought. The familiar tanginess hits your tongue, a flavor that you crave more than the fancy dinner she treated you on your first night together.
“H-holy shit…” Gaeul stutters, holding onto your shoulders for support as she catches her breath. “Get on the chair… I-I wanna ride you…”
You notice her legs are still shaking underneath her. “A-are you sur-”
“I said get on the fucking chair!”
You quickly jump to your feet and do as you're told, subtly making sure Gaeul doesn’t fall over before moving from underneath her. She silently scorns you with a furious glare for not immediately following her orders. The rest of the girls watch with bated breath, not used to this side of her.
Gaeul makes quick work of your jeans and your boxers, roughly squeezing your shaft in between her fingers. “Are you gonna keep fucking disobeying me, or are you gonna follow my instructions like a good boy?” she whispers harshly into your ear.
You squirm underneath her grasp, the pain only turning you on even more. “I-I’ll be a good boy, mistress. I s-swear.”
“U-um…” Wonyoung nervously interjects. “Isn’t this a bit much, Gaeul? He looks like he’s in pain.”
Gaeul wraps her other hand around your neck, her palm pushing against your Adam's apple. You moan against her touch, enjoying the lightheadedness. “Don’t you like this, baby? Don’t you love being a good little dog for me?” She teases, slowly stroking your cock.
“Y-yes, I love it so much. I love being my mistress’s dog,” you say, your breath shivering.
Gaeul turns back to Wonyoung. “See? He likes it,” she states simply. Wonyoung concedes and sinks into her chair, continuing to watch the sick and twisted display of affection in front of her with faint but growing interest.
With that out of the way, Gaeul turns back to you and hops into your lap, teasing your tip by dragging it along her wet slit. “Do you want this pussy, baby? Do you want to fill it with your disgusting cock?” 
“Y-yes, mistress. I want you so badly.” Your skin crawls as jolts of electricity shoot through you with each slow drag of her lips. Any ounce of sanity you had left has completely turned into mush at this point. Despite your basest desires, you know better than to thrust into her without her permission. She has you right under her thumb, and any mistake could mean getting squashed without warning.
Her grip on your neck tightens. “Beg for it, bitch.”
“P-please… I-I need it… N-need you…” you manage to choke out, writhing under her grasp. She grins at you, shoving a messy kiss on your lips as she slams her hips down onto you. She rips a moan from deep within your chest as you grant her tongue free reign over yours, earning a hum of satisfaction in response. Her velvety walls grip onto your cock, squeezing any remaining energy you had left. You’re nothing more than a glorified dildo to be used by your merciful mistress.
Gaeul suddenly breaks the kiss, slapping you across the face. Blood rushes to your cheek, now marked red by her hand.
“Gaeul…!” Yujin gasps in shock. “Th-that’s-”
“Do it again!” you plead, silencing her concern. “P-please, mistress. Hit me again.”
Your mistress bites her lip at you, intensifying the gyration of her hips while blessing your cheeks with a frenzy of slaps. You grow dizzy with pain and pleasure, higher than any drug could ever take you. 
“T-take it, you fucking dog!” she moans, continuing her assault on your face as her second orgasm rapidly approaches. You feel your own quickly following suit and tap her thigh to warn her, but Gaeul instead wraps her arms around you, showing no signs of slowing down her hips.
“I-I’m safe today, b-baby,” she whispers into your ear, much more gentle than she usually is. “Y-you can c-cum in me if you want… I f-fucking love you…”
The walls of her gorgeous pussy squeeze your shaft as she squirts onto your cock. You follow her soon after, covering her insides with your cum for the first time ever, clinging onto Gaeul’s delicate body. Your mind floats around in pure ecstasy, a feeling you never want to let go of. Gaeul lazily kisses on your neck as she recovers from her high.
“I… love you… too,” you breathlessly mutter before falling victim to exhaustion and collapsing against the chair. Gaeul climbs off of your lap and collects her discarded clothing off the ground, stumbling with each step.
“Well… that was interesting to say the least,” Yujin says after a long silence, finishing the recording on her phone.
“Send me that video later, that was really hot…” Rei whispers to her.
“Um, is he gonna be okay?” Liz asks. “I’m pretty sure we have a schedule tomorrow.”
Gaeul looks over to your now sleeping form and smiles with adoration. She kisses your reddened cheek, careful not to wake you. “He’ll be fine, I’m pretty sure,” she assures them.
Wonyoung stands up from her seat. “I’m glad you found a good… boytoy, or whatever you call him,” she says, patting Gaeul’s shoulder before leaving the meeting room. The rest of the girls follow suit, leaving Gaeul alone with you as she waits for you to wake up.
She slides a chair next to you and plants another gentle kiss on your cheek before sitting. “Good boy~” she whispers delicately, resting her head on your shoulder.
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