#I'm just so out of it... my ears are ringing.

[hyperfixiation-station]

Behind Enemy Lines Pt.2

CW: Detailed description of wounds and torture, talk of derealization, disassociation, medical inaccuracies Summary: You were a friendly medic, captured years ago and held prisoner, forced to do do the bidding of your captors. Years later, a man by the name of Ghost is dragged in and changes the trajectory of your life A/N: I had severe ADHD, and i am unmedicated rn, and it makes it really hard to work on things unless I get the hyperfocused drive for it, so I'm sorry I'm so bad at making the other parts to my fics. Know that I will never abandon them. it just might take me a while. ALSO I CAN'T FIND THE SAME GIF I USED FOR THE LAST ONE IM SO SAD and also this is shorter than the last one.

thanks to @haven247 for being my beta idea playlist part 1

“I'm a medic, please I don't know anything!” wrists strapped, metal on metal, ears ringing

“Stop please I-” touching, pulling, biting

“Im just a medic pl-” it hurts it hurts stop it please

“I don't know anything!” I'm innocent in this

“Please!” just let me die

“Stop it, please!” hurts hurts hurts

God just let me go

Humans are a funny thing. They crave life and living, no matter how awful the circumstance. You thought a lot about the apocalypse shows you used to binge watch, though about how they all fought to survive, even when it would have been better to die. You never really understood them until now. How someone could lose everything, be betrayed and hurt again and again and still want to live. And yet here you are.

Maybe hope if foolish. You'd lost hope for a long time, or at least you'd thought you'd had. But as the soldiers came crashing into your prison, as they held you at gunpoint as you tried to save their friend, you could feel her crawling out of the dark recesses of your heart. Her light was flickering, but there.

Stepping outside almost sends you into shock. The sights, the sounds the smells, everything just came rushing at you like a freight train. For so long you'd been floating in some half-aware state, the world around you muted and dull, and to have it crash back in like this was startling, to say the least. You would have fallen if not for the dark-skinned soldier holding your arm in a vice-like grip.

You can hear gunfire and screaming, so loud it almost made your ears hurt. Smell the smoke and the burning rubber. Feel the wind in your tangled hair and the blood slicking your hands. The blood. It is hot and slippery, coating your hands and soaking into your ratty t-shirt. You can hear Ghost's rattling, wet breaths, smell the metallic scent of his blood, feel the way his meat, his muscles and fat, brushed against your hand as you kept him from bleeding out, can feel his organs pressing against your fingers with each shuddering breath he takes.

Oddly enough, these sensation help ground you. They were things you knew, feeling you had grown accustomed to since your first day in med school.

You reach a helicopter, the rotors already spinning. Its a bit of a struggle to get in while making sure you don't let go of Ghost, but you manage. The soldiers carrying him place him on a row of seats, and you kneel down next to his body, hand still firmly holding gauze in place.

It wasn't doing much good, but it's not like you could tell anyone.

"Help him." The soldier with the mustache orders the moment you're in the air. He thrusts a med-kit at you, and the dark-skinned soldier opens it for you, showing you the contents.

They don't give you much to work with. Some gauze, a needle and thread, bandages, and a lighter. Rudimentary supplies. But hey, you've done more with less. Probably.

Your free hand drifts to the lighter, a distant memory of a soldier and a gunshot wound in a similar area flashing through your mind. It's not quite the same, more than just an artery nicked this time, but cauterization is all you can really do.

You grab the lighter, flicking it on and holding to his body. a hand closes like vice around your wrist, yanking your hand away.

"What the 'ell are ye doin'" A man with a Scottish accent practically snarls at you. You whine in response, tugging your arm uselessly.

"Soap." The mustache man says sharply, "Let 'em work."

"Sir-"

"Let them go." Your wrist drops, and you fumble with the lighter before holding the fame to Ghost's skin. You watch in sick fascination as his skin bubbles and burns, the fat and muscles shrinking away under the flame, the blood vessels sealing precariously as the heat sears them shut.

You don't know what effects this will have on his organs, if he'll be able to function the same way again. But you have to keep him alive. You look at his pale face, watch the way his chest shudders with every breath.

God you hope he makes it.

~line break~

They don't let you was before throwing you in a cell. Okay, maybe they didn't throw you, but regardless, you were still cuffed to a table with Ghost's blood crusted to your skin. It was gross. And cruel. They had stripped you away the second you reached the infirmary, not letting you see what was going to happen to your patient.

The door swings open and you flinch, looking up at the soldier that comes in with eyes. Its the man from the helicopter. Soap, you think his name is.

"Yer lucky the medics sayd he'll live." He says, his voice distinctly Scottish. He stalks towards you, sitting on the table on your left side.

" 've been instructed tae question ye, but first we ha'e tae git a look at yer face." He reaches for your mask, tugging it off your ear. All he succeeds in doing is pulling your head forward.

The mask is secured behind your head with a metal clasp, and could only be opened with a specific key, ensuring you couldn't take it off. You had tried, at first, to pull the stitches out, and this was the solution. You can't pull out stiches if you can't touch your mouth.

Soaps brow furrows, a flicker of confusion crossing his face. HE grimaces as he touches your hair, finally just pulling a knife out of his pocket. You tense automatically, squirming away as he brings it closer to you.

"Oh for fu- hold still!" He grasps your head, sliding the knife through the cloth by your ear. The mask falls away, leaving your face exposed

"Lets see what we're-" He freezes, the knife dropping to the floor with a clatter as he sees the mess that is your face. Your lips are sewn together, and the skin of your cheeks is red and raw from the tape that holds your feedign tube on.

"Oh shit." the blood drains from his face, his hand fumbling for the comm unit on his vest.

"Cap? Yeah, we've got a problem."

A/N: Okay, i'm not sure I like the second half, but here it is! Part 3 will have more Ghost/medic interaction :) tags: I definitely didn't get them all, I'm sorry there was just so many of you @smile6890 @cricricorner @unclearblur @redzluvvesage @just-a-harmless-potato-05  @vesna-the-spring @princess312 @norsehorseofcourse-blog @bonniperinktrance @soggywafflezz  @littlebunie @sirbonesly @havoc973 @mommymilkers0526 @thegreyjoyed @pinkiliciousgunp0int @poopoobuttsy @darcellethedreamer @kamote-kuneho @z-wantstowrite @i-ate-ur-fries @fakeguysarehot @shitrandom @yunho-leeknow @idontreallyexistyet 

[kupa-konstruct]

Calem's words ring in my ear like the toll of a bell, over and over again.

"Most mages start their training once they turn 18-"

My chest burned with an emotion that I thought I had forgotten,

Rage.

15 years.

15 years of nothing but non-stop studying and practice, late nights reading tomes and early morning whippings for not waking up on time to repeat the cycle over

And over

And over again.

Barely 5 years of proper childhood memories but even looking back, the people that raised me did nothing but prepare me from birth.

Reading me historical books as "bedtime stories", giving me "puzzles" to colour and play with that were actually elemental tables, burning the symbols into my mind from young.

And as soon as I could read and write, my childhood was stripped from me.

I was confined to the house, only allowed to be outside with supervision to practice my spells and even then, I was forced to practice in the woods behind the house that the village swore was haunted.

They complained about wails and screams that persisted well into the night....and thinking back on it... those screams could have been my own.

The fuzzy memories push back to the front of my mind as a spliting headache grips me, my head almost hits the table I'm sitting at, much to Calem's worry.

I hear his voice calling out to me, his hands shaking my shoulders as I brush him off, trying to tell him that I'm fine but the words don't come, he doesn't let go.

I listen as his voice slowly pushes past the ringing in my ears, words of confusion and empathy as one of his close friends seems to come down with some sort of illness, his face contorted as if he was about to cry.

Only to feel tears sting my own eyes instead.

As he rambles, asking me if he can take me to the nurse before lunch ends before I can finally speak.

"....they took my childhood..."

The words were meek and quiet but Calem stopped talking all the same, looking at me with confusion as tears start to cloud my vision.

I repeat myself.

"....they....they took.....my childhood...."

I can make out Calem trying to say something but I cut him off as the tears begin to fall from my eyes.

"Everyone here calls me so smart for knowing so much, for being so good at magic but I DIDN'T WANT TO BE!!! THEY TOOK MY CHILDHOOD AWAY FROM ME!!! They forced magic into every single waking moment of my life, and for what?!?!?! For some fleeting chance at having a child prodigy?!?!?! Is that what they wanted??!?! DID THEY EVEN CARE ABOUT ME?!!?!"

My voice becomes more strained with every yell, attracting the attention of some passing students and professors but I didn't notice as my cries turned into sobs and my sobs into wails.

As I continue to sob violently into my hands and uniform, I feel arms wrap around me, pulling me into a tight hug as soft whispers try to console me.

My mind acknowledges that it was Calem but I didn't care, I just wanted to cry, to let out all the emotions that I didn't realise I had been holding in for the last 15 years, to finally been seen.

And maybe, just maybe, I could reclaim what had been lost.

I could reclaim the childhood that was ripped away from me.

Learning magic is an arduous journey, requiring sacrifice and dedication. Your parents made you give up your childhood to study magic—only after completing your studies do you learn that most other mages actually choose to start in adulthood.

[nineteenninety-six]

Could you write abbot x daughter when daughters childhood best friend dies during pittfest and like she was there but fine without a scratch which makes it all worse for her which leads to her on the roof cause she knows her dad and the hospital , and she goes up just brushes part there alone after hearing time of death and like Jack finds her and he’s approaching like she’s a scared animal and she hasn’t even realised she’s on the wrong side cause she’s sobbing

Okay love you thank you!!!

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ Roof Ledge

Pairing: Jack Abbot x Daughter!Reader

TW: mentions of Pittfest. mentions of suicide of the shooter. death. etc

AN: Sorry I did change it slightly but I hope you like it regardles. Also this is short so I apologize.

Your ears ring as you hear the doctor call time of death, scribbling it on the wrist chart before stepping away and hurrying toward another critical patient.

You only get one last glimpse of your friend's face before a sheet is pulled over them and then moved away. Once they've disappeared out of your sight, the ringing faded and the noise of the hectic emergency department floods your ears and overwhelms you. Your legs tremble as you search for a place where you could get some fresh air, you turn to the ambulance bay before remembering that it's being used as a triage spot along with the countless vehicles arriving from Pittfest. Then you remember about your fathers favourite place in the hospital, the roof.

You stumble out of the emergency department knocking into people as you try to rush towards the elevator. Once you stagger into it, you mash the buttons for the top floor and fall into a crouch, unable to support your own weight anymore.

Tears and sobs escaped you as you cried into your hands and the t-shirt you were wearing quickly became soaked with tears as you tried to wipe your tears to no avail.

The fresh cool air greeted you when you stepped out onto the roof and it calmed you slightly. The chill breeze cooled you down and the fresh air helped you regulate your panicked breathing.

Automatically, your feet take you to the edge where your dad frequently visits and you slip underneath the safety rail and sit down, your legs dangling off of the hospital.

Your tears of sadness turned into tears of anger. You were so angry, so so angry. You just lost a friend, a friend you had known your entire life and now they were gone- dead and she wasn't the only one.

No doubt there were more people who died at the hospital but there were countless more that died at Pittfest on the field. Some instantly, some who couldn't get medical attention in time, some who were crushed in the rush to escape...just so many lives lost needlessly.

You were so lost in your head that you didn't hear the roof door open until your father called out your name.

He stood halfway across the roof, his hands held up as if he was dealing with a wild animal.

"Hey kid" Your dads voice was soft, "I heard what happened... Do you wanna talk to me?"

You only sob in response, the sound echoing around the empty roof.

"C'mon kid, step away from the edge for me please." Your dad begged, "Come talk to me over here"

"It's not fair! Why her at all people?!"

"You're right, it's not fair." Your dad agrees. "She didn't deserve it nor did anyone else who died."

"A- and I-" You gasp and stutter, "I'm fine! I didn't even sprain my ankle, I'm fine and she's gone."

Your dad joins you on the edge after realising that you were not moving anytime soon. He wraps an arm around your shoulder, "I'm sorry kid, I really am."

"Do you have to tell her parents?" You whimper.

Your dad shakes his head, "No. Robby will do that."

"They'll never forgive me" A fresh set of tears streamed down your face, "I' m the reason she's gone."

"You are not the reason" Your dad corrects, "The person-the man who did this, is the only one responsible. Not you, not me, only them."

"Do they know who did it? If they found him"

"They found him, he killed himself", Your dad scoffs and shakes his head, "He killed a swathe of people and killed himself…"

You scoff, "Fuck him, fuck this, fuck everything."

Your father doesn't say anything and there's a few minutes of silence as the two of you watch over the Pittsburgh skyline, listening as the cars drive past nearby and sirens in the distance.

"Do you want to see her? Say goodbye?" Your dad breaks the silence.

"Can I?" You hiccup.

"Yeah c'mon, let's step away from the ledge." Your dad stands up, offering his hand out for you to pull himself up with.

Your legs almost give up beneath you as you stand up but your father easily supports you as you walk over to the door and return to the hospital.

"You're alright kid, you'll survive this. It may feel like you're drowning right now but we will take it one day at a time."

[prettydaisygirl]

OMG. I cant beleive I found a new writer who can feed my james potter delusion! Generally I'm a silent supporter but after reading your Aus, you literally have unlocked a new part of my brain. Your ideas are truly amazing ❤️ pls keep blessing us with your works🙏🏻

I feel like the au idea which I have in mind you can really express it.so may I pls request a college au with fratjames potter x reader.where they both are acquaintance and something happens.due to some misunderstanding reader is the receiving end of James wrath.after realising his mistake he makes a sweet apology gesture to reader and wants to get in her good books.

It's just a just my apology if you couldn't really get the idea( english is my 2nd language and I don't feel confident in it)

P.s pls feel free to ignore it ❤️Have a wonderful Day/Night💗

Hello, my love! Thank you so much for the request! This is my first request so I'm a little nervous haha, I hope this is what you were looking for :) Your words are so sweet, and you really made my day! Also, I'm kind of obsessed with frat!James now... Have a wonderful day/night yourself, lovely <3

frat!James Potter x fem!reader who was supposed to bring the beer ✿ 1.4k words

cw: fem reader, marauders as frat bros, alcohol (or lack thereof), armed store robbery with a gun (not described in detail), reader is James' lab partner

james potter masterlist

°˖✧✿✧˖°

part 2

James is having a bad night. It’s 8pm on a Friday and he hasn’t had a single drop of alcohol yet. This is unusual, especially given the music blaring through the frat house with enough bass to shake the foundation. There are dozens of people here. Most of them know James even if he doesn’t know them, which is great until it isn’t.

Another one approaches him, some guy by the name of Marty or something.

“Dude,” The guy raises his arms and James’ annoyance skyrockets. He already knows what this guy is about to say. “Where’s the beer?”

“I know,” James grunts at him. Barty, that’s it. “I’m working on it.”

Barty scoffs but James is already pushing past him. He pushes through the crowd, many of whom move quickly to get out of his way. His eyes scan through, looking for someone in particular.

Where the hell are you?

James makes his way to the kitchen, seeing the counters still bare and no sign of you anywhere. He curses under his breath and pulls out his phone, scrolling through his contact list. Just as he presses the call button, Sirius approaches him. James holds up a hand but Sirius speaks anyway.

“Prongs, where are the drinks? If one more Alpha Tau tells me my party sucks, I might go to prison.” James just glares at Sirius’ dramatics, the phone ringing endlessly in his ear. It goes to voicemail and he hangs up with a groan. 

“I thought you said you handled it!” Sirius stresses just as Remus walks into the kitchen, beelining for the two of them.

“I did!” James argues, running a hand through his already unruly hair with a huff. 

“What’s going on?” Remus asks, crossing his arms and looking between James and Sirius with a narrowed stare. “Is this about the beer?”

“Yes!” Sirius stresses again, and points at James, “It’s James’ week to get drinks. But here we are, at 8pm on Friday and…” Sirius gestures to the empty countertops. “No drinks!”

“You tell ‘em, Sirius!” James hears Barty shout from across the kitchen and James fears he and Sirius might both end up in prison together. 

“I thought I handled it.” James tells both of his frat brothers, shrugging a bit.

“What does that mean?” Remus asks, his brow furrowing. “Did you buy the drinks or not?”

James at least has the decency to look sheepish, running a hand over the back of his hair as he inhales through his teeth. “I may have… asked my lab partner to get it for me.”

Sirius gasps, raising a hand to his chest as though clutching his pearls, “I thought pawning drinks off on someone else was against the rules!”

“It is.” Remus tells Sirius, looking at James with an expectant stare. 

“I was using it as an excuse for us to meet up, you know? So the two of us can hang out…” James feels his stomach churn when Sirius’ face bends into a knowing smirk. 

“Oh, I understand…” Sirius winks at James, “To ‘hang out.’” His air quotes make Remus roll his eyes and James glare harshly.

“Someone needs to go get drinks.” Remus reminds the two of them. The party crowd is getting routier behind him. 

“James, it’s your week, so off you go.” Sirius nudges James toward the front door. “You never know, you might find your lover along the way!” 

“Oi, fuck off!” James calls back to him right as the door slams closed behind him. 

As he begins the trek to the store, he attempts to call you several times. Every attempt is met with voicemail. He texts you, and all of them are left unread. James finds frustration and anger building in his gut, not solely from the lack of alcohol but also from being stood up, apparently. James Potter has never been stood up in his life. 

On his seventh attempt to call you, it doesn’t even ring. It goes straight to voicemail. His jaw clenches and his fists ball up and he finds himself spewing words he shouldn’t say, airing his frustrations out to you. He calls you things like selfish and rude, and even a bad friend. 

By the time he turns onto the last street, his anger has mostly turned into disappointment. He’d really been looking forward to seeing you tonight, and though it hadn’t been to sleep with you like Sirius had suggested, he had been considering it your first date. 

James is lost in thought as he approaches the store, steps scraping gently across the pavement. He’s thinking about what he might say to you during your lab on Monday when he hears your voice. It catches his attention immediately and he looks up, eyes searching for you. 

There you are, just as pretty as always, but something’s wrong. You’re standing in front of the store, tear-stains evident on your cheeks as you speak to a police officer. James’ heart sinks into his stomach and he’s by your side before he can stop himself.

“Hey,” His voice is low and soothing, more comforting than he thought he could be but you look up at him like he’s saved your life and his heart pounds. “What’s going on?” 

James’ eyes dart nervously between you and the police officer, but the uniformed man shakes his head a bit. “I’ve got everything I need. You gon’ be okay?” James is a bit confused but he realizes the officer’s words are directed at you when he sees you nodding.

“Yes, sir. Thank you very much.” Your voice is a bit choked and you wipe at your cheeks before turning to him. He feels like he needs to scoop you up in his arms, to do something to help put you back together and get that look out of your eyes. 

“What happened?” James’ hands reach for your arms, settling on your elbows. His thumbs brush over your skin soothingly and you feel tears burning in your eyes again at his gentle movements.

“I was…” You swallow thickly when your voice cracks, “I was trying to get the drinks for your party and some guy came in and he was yelling at the cashier, and he… he had a gun, and I didn’t know what to do and you kept calling me and I was trying to answer but-”

James shushes you before you can continue spiraling, shaking his head. Guilt surges through him, knowing what his texts say. And that voicemail…

“Don’t worry about it.” He assures you, and his dark eyes meet yours. “Is it okay if I hug you?” As soon as you nod, he wraps you in a tight embrace, like he really is trying to put you back together. You both stand like that for a long moment until he feels your body relax, your soft sigh brushing his ear in a puff of warm air. 

James pulls back and moves to cup your face with one hand, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” You tell him with a soft nod and an even softer smile. It’s one that gives James butterflies and he suddenly feels bad having you look at him like that when…

“Just… delete all of those texts from me.” He says, and your brow furrows, lips parting a bit to question him but he speaks again before you can. “And please don’t listen to that voicemail.”

You look to the side before your eyes meet his again, a confused smile on your lips. “What? Why, what did you say?” The smile fades when James doesn’t play off his words like he always does.

“Okay, I’ll delete them.” His face relaxes a bit at your words and he looks back up at the shop. He hears his text notification sound, but he ignores it, his eyes settling on your face again instead. 

“Do you… Are you still coming to the party?” He asks, and he hates the way desperation is plain in his tone. 

“I was hoping to, yeah.” Your smile turns a bit shy and sweet now and James beams, his hands on your shoulders.

“Okay, great! So we’ll get drinks and then walk back together!” His smile falters and he hesitates then, looking back at the store. “Actually, you wait here. I’ll go get drinks. You don’t need to come back inside.” Your heart almost breaks at his consideration for your feelings. You move up on your toes to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Okay,” You say, “I’ll be waiting right here.” 

°˖✧✿✧˖°

© prettydaisygirl

[snailpebbles]

a day to live

Natalie Scatorccio x fem! reader

summary: Natalie just lost you, her girlfriend, and has to cope somehow! Looney toons type escape from you.

tags: angst then angst then hurt/comfort, some fluff, angst, ow I'm sorry, fucked up sisters, nat loves you sm, conversion camp mentions, religious issues

a/n: read pt.1 first - a night to remember

wc: 2.5k

꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧

Nat is pissed. Well, at first she was left in that gravel crying her heart out before getting up to chase the car down, but hey...details. Now it's been a month at this fuckass school with these fuckass people in this fuckass town and her girlfriend, the love of her life, is still gone. Shipped off to some damnable, frankly unchristian, camp that believes love in any capacity is false.

Total bullshit.

What's even more bullshit is that your parents act like you never existed! Smiles all around, parties and cookouts, and attending church like they didn't just damn their own kin. So yes, she is pissed and yes, she is crying in the locker room.

"Nat..?" Jackie's apprehensive voice reaches her muted ears and a light touch on her shoulder draws her out. She means well, Nat knows this, but the only touch she wants is yours. That's why she jerks back like she's been shot. Jackie nods acceptingly and creates some space, silently shooing the other worried girls out.

"Practice is starting, okay? You know you can just stay in here if you can't-" Nat cuts her off, inhaling sharply with a forced grin.

"I'm fine Jackie." She mutters shoving past her and regretting it after seeing the frown on her captains face. There's no time for apologies though, not when her anger is mounting and the only out she sees is to play rough. That's probably why Coach Ben sits her out after one play. Now she's pissed and antsy.

A car rolls up, one that sends bolts down her back and blood rushing to her head. The same car that you were shoved into; that took you away from her. Laura Lee steps out, already stammering an apology for being late as her parents drive off without so much as a glance at Nat.

Time becomes a blur and her ears ring, her sight and memory dipping out until suddenly she's looming over a crying Laura Lee. Her fist throbs where it's tightly balled and Laura Lee's bloody nose stains the turf a satisfying red - the thrumming in her ears quiet. Taissa and Shauna grab her elbows but all she can do is grin, feeling like some righteous figure - you'd be proud, she knows it. Even if its your sister she left on the floor to be comforted by Misty and Jackie.

She blinks and now she's in the counselors office, one sympathetic look going to Laura Lee and disdain to her. It's funny in her eyes.

"Natalie," Oh here we go "why did you punch Laura Lee?" Ms. Drews voice is like nails on a chalkboard. Nat's fist clenches and she glances at your sister. At least the girl has the decency to look oh so apologetic and like absolute shit. Your sisters eyes are sunken in and look red, the eyebags a deep purple and her skin pale. The pitiful sight doesn't change Nat's heart though, not when she's sure you're being put through so much worse.

"I guess I'm just jealous that she's a natural blonde." Nat drawls, slouching in the plush chair like it's her office. Her heart gives a twist when she remembers that you would've loved seeing her sit like this, claiming it's "hot shit". Ms. Drews sighs tiredly, well acquainted with Nat's bullshit.

"It's my fault Ms. Drews." Laura Lee whispers, her voice wavering and scratchy from old tears. "I was uhm, I was being mean." Nat snorts - she can't help it. Laura Lee? Mean? The world must have ended then. When she starts to laugh, she stops. No, Laura Lee was mean; you're gone because of her big fucking mouth.

The chair screeches back before Nat can think and she's storming out, ignoring the calls from Ms. Drew to return. It's all bullshit, every last bit. Tears sting her eyes are she pushes into the empty locker room to change, your picture staring back at her from within her locker. You look so pretty; the Sun highlighting every aspect of you that she loves so dearly. The tears fall and her eyeliner goes with them, leaving black streaks down her face that she decidedly ignores as she walks home.

It's an hour later when she collapses into her bed, pressing her nose into a blanket you'd left there a long time ago. It had lost it's smell a few days back but Natalie went to the store and spent all of her allowance to buy your perfume. It's like a new vice for her; smelling your perfume whenever she can until her nose burns alongside her throat. The alcohol tastes like utter shit but she drowns in it anyways, just as she believes she will for the rest of her life.

꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧

You're in deep shit. It was maybe two weeks into that fuckass camp that you decided to make a break for it, pulling some looney toons type shit to get out. Maybe those sleepless nights of praying for anyone to love you, for Him to love you, paid off. Your throat hurts from being forced to vomit and your memory blurs with honestly disgusting videos - yeah, you need to forget.

The back of some random pick up truck isn't the most comfortable but the driver is kind. She let you hitch a ride after walking for who knows how long so really you can't complain. Does it smell like farm animals? Yes. Is the smell of sheep butt kinda growing on you? No comment. The only comfort you can find is thinking of Nat. How her lips felt on yours and the way her voice carried to your ears. Tears fall - at the same time as hers, unknowingly to you - at the sickness stirring in your stomach. It was in your belief that one week wouldn't be enough to fuck you up, but alas.

None of that matters anyways because you're here; minus the two hour walk into town that awaits you. The Sun has yet to rise but the kind driver gives you a jacket to wear over whatever the fuck the dress you have on is. White cotton down to your ankles and wrists - all that conservative bullshit. It isn't fully white anymore. Some sprinting through the woods and hiding in a fucking lake will do that to someone.

꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧

Natalie is disoriented, the loud knocking at her trailer door leaving her hungover brain reeling. She stumbles her way to the front and rips the door open, prepared to curse out whoever it is.

"Nat?" It's a soft voice, an oh so tired and wounded voice. The same voice she played in her dreams and sobbed over every night. The same she'd hear "I love you" from. She sobers up so fucking fast it's almost ridiculous. One minute you're outside and the next you're inside, her shaking hands gripping your biceps so tight it might bruise.

"What the fuck- how the fuck-" The tears spill again and her voice is rough, catching and tripping over itself until her heart teeters away from stopping. "Angel." She breathes it out like a prayer and you're gone, sobbing into her neck like she does to your hair. The smell, the dirt, the ugly crying - none of it matters. Not when you're in her arms and blubbering sweet everything's. Nat cups your cheeks and wipes your tears, worried eyes checking you over for any blood or bruise. Your knuckles are busted just like hers. She kisses them and you do the same.

"I missed you." You whisper, using the sleeves of your dress to wipe her tears and eyeliner away. She laughs wetly and nods, leaning her head into your hand.

"I missed you too. Fuck, are you okay?" She asks and you nod, any cut or scrape from your mad escape fleeing your mind. All that matters is her. The smell of cigarettes, alcohol, cheap perfume, and her shampoo. You could wrap yourself up in it and die happily right now.

"Do you want a shower?" Nat then leads you into the cramped bathroom after your whispered yes, the overhead light buzzing when she flicks the switch. It's the first time you've seen yourself in awhile, having been in and out of rest stops with nothing on your mind but home. She turns the water on and undoes the buttons down the back of your dress, rough fingers so gentle on your blessed skin. It's reverent, the way she eyes you. No sign of lust but only love.

The water is hot, washing away false sins as she climbs in with you. There's bile building in your throat and she holds you hair back when you vomit into the toilet, crying apologies as she pets your now wet hair.

"Thought it wouldn't work." You sniffle and her heart breaks, fear and anger tracing up her spine. Nat knows you love her, she can feel it in your hands and the way your lips map her skin all over again. It still doesn't change the fact that you're sick and it will take time to reverse what they did. All in the name of someone who never would have allowed those places to exist.

"It's okay Angel, it's okay. You're okay, we're okay." Nat whispers, pulling you into her arms before washing you off until you're reborn. The light buzzes and the water grows cold but you don't drift away, not like she fears. Vomit is flushed again but Nat only rubs your back and comforts you, no sign of impatience.

Her bed and clothes are warm as you cuddle into one another, hair and tears wetting her pillow. She doesn't ask and you're so grateful, throat still stinging.

"I love you." You both say it at the same time and giggle, noses bumping one another with how close you are. Her arm is tight around your waist and you cradle her cheek, face feeling warm under her intense watch. She's memorizing you, drinking you in as if you're holy water in a hellish place.

You make the first move to kiss her, having to breathe through the sick feeling you get; twisting in your stomach and aching in your heart. Something whispers no but He whispers yes, and then the gap is gone.

Natalie is sure you're her salvation. Your lips are warm against hers, it's all so warm. The door is locked and outside is silent. No crunch of gravel or the squealing of tires. It's just you and her in a self-made heaven, basking in love.

Laura Lee and the rest can wait for tomorrow. Nat's mom is out on some bender and she'll keep you safe - the grip on your waist confirms it. Kisses trail across your cheek and jaw, bleached hair tickling your clean skin until you're giggling with her. Hearts sync up once more and it stays peaceful, the future not looming but glowing instead.

꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧

It's two weeks later and finally that fucking tomorrow. A lot of legal bullshit is going down but for now, you're living with your aunt who you were taught was a piece of shit - she's actually just a he. Your uncle, as you've now learned, stayed in Wisayok on the other side of town purely to loom over your parents with the threat of exposing them to the church. He knew they'd sent you off and had been fighting tooth and nail to get you into his care for a month now.

All is fine and dandy; Nat and you laze about your new, nicer, home and relearn each other. You throw up a lot less now and your uncle, Tim, pays for therapy to help really get past it all. You don't plan on ever saying what really happened in those small buildings so Nat doesn't pry, instead she kisses away the late night tears and holds your hair out of your face when it's all too much.

What isn't cool is having to go back to school. The same school your sister attends. You're a nervous wreck as you step off the bus, Nat keeping ahold of you.

"Breathe, Angel." She whispers and you listen, staying by her side throughout the morning and totally not flinching whenever a flash of blonde hair goes off in your peripherals. Luck cannot hold out forever though, and even has terrible timing.

It is entirely impossible to prove what exactly the two of you were doing behind the bleachers, but the mussed hair and marks on both of your necks may give some evidence. The giggles and little stolen kisses come to an abrupt halt at the sight of your sister. She's tearing up and your heart aches in two different directions.

"Oh fuck off Laura Lee." Natalie groans, arm going across your shoulders in what may look possessive but is actually meant to ground you. Laura Lee sniffles and gives you an extremely apologetic stare, but you aren't having it.

"I told you what would happen." You mutter, staring her down without an ounce of sympathy. She shakes her head but seems unable to even mumble an apology, the tears clogging her throat. That damn bear is in her hand and she holds it out to you, shaking hands matching your own. You can see the faint scar on her pointer finger from where you'd accidentally slammed the door on it. Her necklace was a gift from you and her cardigan was knitted to match your own, growing dusty in a closet that isn't yours anymore. The bear is knocked to the ground by your hand, newly scarred across the knuckles from a ruler Laura Lee will never meet.

"Please-" Her voice breaks and Nat laces her hand in yours, thumb rubbing across the scarred knuckles and head tilting to knock against yours. She's all around you and Laura Lee is drifting away, button eyes watching the two sisters from the gym floor.

"We're not sisters. Not anymore." Your voice breaks just like hers did, and you step away again - just like that night. Nat is there, anchoring you all the way until you're in some bathroom.

"Angel, hey-" She cradles your jaw and kisses your forehead, wiping away the faint lipstick mark. "You're good." She murmurs and you nod, blinking away tears with a slow exhale.

"I'm good. We're good." You repeat, dropping your forehead to her shoulder. "It's all good." Fingers guide your head up and your lips meet hers - warm, safe, familiar. No bile rises and your heart doesn't ache; it sings.

꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧

tag list: @theprismyyy @moonyxstars @kabekusa @ilovemuhl10

[lilithschosen]

Hello. It is becoming rapidly apparent I am probably should not be working, but alas, I must wage slave regardless. Could I perhaps beg you to write them getting it on freaky style? I go so feral for sub/bottom Rio like. Ohhhh my god. Thinking about Rio bordering on tears Begging for it + squirting strap 🫣 Overstimulation maybe. perhaps even a sprinkling of mommy kink if you feel so inclined.

*brushes off cobwebs from this prompt* oh hey, buddy. hey. how's it goin? you've been in my inbox for a while, i'm sorry. don't worry, your eyes will adjust to the sudden light.

anyway lmao

"Kneel."

Rio looks over her shoulder, hands against the top drawer of her dresser. She doesn't move, causing Agatha to grunt in annoyance.

She kicks Rio's feet apart and grabs her by the waist. Rio snaps forward, barely able to hold herself over it. Agatha slides her hand between Rio's thighs, pressing herself crotch first against Rio's ass.

"I said," she growls in Rio's ear, the thick bulge underneath her sweatpants pinning Rio against the dresser. "Kneel."

Rio's hands slowly drop from the drawer, reaching back to touch Agatha only for her arm to be bent behind her back and shoved down to the ground with a thud.

"You wanna play stupid, yeah?"

Rio shook her head, facing the dresser. She holds a moment before slowly turning her shoulders to test the waters. Agatha doesn't stop her, instead allowing her girlfriend to fully face her while remaining on her knees.

She cups her jaw, calloused hands brushing against soft skin and tracing lines across her throat with the back of her fingers.

"You're always prettiest on your knees."

Rio melts in Agatha's palm, pupils dilating. Agatha smirks from the reaction, other hand reaching for her waistband. Rio's eyes widen with anticipation, flicking between Agatha's face and the hand starting to tug at the fabric.

"Oh?" Agatha questions, voice thick with condescension. "Is there something you want, sweet girl?"

"Just need you, daddy."

The pet name.

The title.

Agatha wets her lips before she grins. "What else, baby?"

Rio's eyes fall to the now still hand against Agatha's waistband, her pinky and ring finger fully underneath. "Your cock."

Agatha hums, middle finger flipping underneath the waistband but moving no further.

"Mommy wants daddy's cock?" Rio presses her thighs together as she nods. "How bad?"

Rio reaches up with both hands, touching the top of Agatha's clothed thighs. She inches them closer in tandem toward the bulge until she can wrap her hands around the thick length through her pants, mouth falling open.

"Really, really," Rio begins, looking up through her lashes while she moves her face toward her hands and away from Agatha's palm on her jaw. "Really badly."

She lifts her hands up while they're still clasped around the toy, and presses and open mouth kiss against the shaft.

Her wet mouth soaks the light grey of the fabric, leaving behind darkened imprints.

"Jesus."

Agatha runs her fingers through her hair, throwing it back behind her head and out of her face. Her other hand fully dips underneath her pants and grabs at the toy underneath, pulling it away from Rio's hands and up over the waistband.

Rio immediately spots which toy it was, the small hole at the tip being the dead giveaway.

"Go ahead," Agatha rasps, "Get it nice and wet before I fuck you."

Rio wastes no time, plump lips wrapping around the head of the toy. She hollows her cheeks and relaxes her throat as she welcomes the length in with practiced ease.

Agatha's clit throbs against the harness, watching with rapt attention while her girlfriend sucks her silicone cock.

She can feel it.

The phantom touch between her legs.

Rio's hot, wet mouth against her and not just around some silicone toy.

She feels it and wants more.

Agatha grips the toy at the base, pulling out of Rio's mouth entirely. Rio frowns at the loss, saliva dribbling out past her lips.

"Take your fucking pants off."

Agatha drops to her knees, shifting Rio forward on her elbows before she could even get a chance to do as she was told. She settles behind her, ripping off Rio's plaid pajama pants, and thrusts the toy between her thighs. The shaft of the toy rubs against her clit through her underwear and she chokes a surprised moan.

"God, I bet you're dripping. So ready for me to fill you up."

Rio groans, grinding her hips against the toy forced between her legs. Agatha barks a laugh, hand on Rio's ass as she fucks the length in and out.

"Please, daddy," Rio begs, holding her forearms underneath her and lifting her backside further up to entice Agatha. "Need you. Fuck me, I need it."

Agatha's eyes flutter shut at the fragment of sensation of Rio's thin, cotton underwear against the toy. Almost as if she could feel Rio's arousal beginning to soak through the fabric.

"Keep begging," Agatha claps her palm against Rio's ass cheek. "I don't believe you."

Rio whines, rocking against Agatha harder and more determined. "Daddy, please!"

Agatha keeps her movements, pistoning the toy between Rio's thighs. "Louder."

Rio swallows hard, the heat in her lower belly building with each drag of the toy.

"I need you so fuckin' bad," she slurs her words, overwhelming drool in her mouth making it hard to speak. "Need you to fuck me, fill me. Breed me."

The words send a jolt of electricity through Agatha's spine and she snaps her hips forward hard. She leans over Rio's back and bites down on her shoulder.

Rio cries out, throwing her ass back into Agatha's hips. "Please!"

Agatha shoves her underwear to the side, dragging the toy against her drenched folds until she slips fully out and teases the tip into her entrance.

"Are you sure you need it?"

Rio groans, slamming her hips back and sheathing the full toy inside of her with ease. "Oh, fuck."

Agatha was too stunned to speak, her cock now filling Rio to the brim in an instant.

She can't control herself, imagining the pure heat of Rio's cunt stretching to fit her entirely.

All for her.

"You were fucking made for me," Agatha's nostrils flare while her hands take hold of Rio's hips. "This pussy is mine. Always mine."

She pulls out again, watching as the toy reappears from Rio's core now coated in her slick. Rio mewls out from the sudden emptiness before Agatha rushes to fill her again.

"Yes!"

Agatha thrusts in and out hard, hips drilling the toy with an immediate and bruising pace. Rio can only groan with each impact of Agatha's strap against her cervix.

"Tell me you love it," Agatha starts to pant, hips slapping into Rio's backside, "Tell me you love daddy's cock."

Rio gasps, her hips dropping from the unrelenting pace. Agatha doesn't bother to lift her again, instead continuing to fuck her into the floor.

"I-I love your cock!"

Agatha lifts a hand from Rio's waist and grabs a fistful of her hair, tilting her head back while she keeps fucking her.

"That's it, mommy," Agatha chuckles through her breathing, "Take it. Take my fucking cock, and take my fucking load."

Rio's brain clouds over, her orgasm building rapidly. She can only moan jumbles sounds of words, holding her forehead against the plush carpet of their bedroom floor.

"Gonna cum in you and fuck it back in."

Agatha reaches for the black syringe attached to the dildo, the one she tucked at her hip and previously filled with the white, silky lubricant.

"Please," Rio shouts, eyes rolling into her head as her walls tighten around the toy, "Cum in me, daddy. Fill me. Need to feel you so deep."

Agatha clenches her jaw as she holds her thumb against the plunger of the syringe, fucking Rio hard and fast. She feels it at the base of her spine and connects to the toy with each thrust moving her closer and closer to her undoing.

"So close," she mutters, hips stuttering a half pump into Rio's pussy before she regains herself. "Give it to me, baby."

Rio screams out Agatha's name, partially muffled from the carpet and Agatha slams down on the plunger. She fills Rio with the silky lube, toes curling as she cums as well.

Agatha rocks her hips into the harness, her own pleasure running down her leg while she holds down on the plunger to make sure every drop was inside of Rio.

"That's my girl," Agatha coos, still fucking the toy in and out of Rio through both of their orgasms, "Take it. Fucking take it."

Rio whimpers, body limp underneath Agatha. She feels so deliciously full, only able to roll her head to the side and exhale loudly while her brain reboots.

Agatha pumps the toy in once, twice, then a third final time before pulling out entirely. The silky, white lubricant bubbles out of Rio's cunt, pooling out underneath her and Agatha groans at the sight of it.

"You need to be filled like that more."

Agatha pulls apart Rio's folds with a thumb, eyes focused on nothing but her cum seeping out from Rio. Committing the sinful image to memory.

Rio's eyelids were too heavy to fight against, instead just flexing her calf muscles in a halfhearted attempt to move. Agatha bites down on her lower lip, fingers extending out to dig into the flesh of Rio's ass as she exhales a content, happy sigh.

Her other hand catches the dribbles of the lube, the silky white mixing with Rio's release so deliciously she didn't want to see it all wasted when a thought crosses her mind.

"What's your colour, baby?"

Rio opens an eye, lifting up on her elbows. Head turned to try to look at Agatha, she croaks out a tentative "green" before falling back down.

"Good girl."

She coats the combination of their cum around her fingers before she tucks them into Rio's cunt.

Two fingers curled down to hit the spongy spot just inside beyond her pubic bone. Rio chirps in surprise, biting down on her tongue accidentally while her body lurches up to pull off of Agatha's fingers. She was sore, but oh so wet.

"No," Agatha scolds, moving forward to catch Rio and stop her retreat. "You said green, hon. I'm not done with you."

She fits three fingers inside of Rio quickly, fanning them apart before pulling them out and filling her again.

"Fu-uck," Rio hiccups, her hips barely able to lift from the floor while Agatha begins to fuck her with her fingers. "Daddy, please."

Agatha's upper lip twitches, nearly pulling up into a snarl at the immediate begging. "Already, sweetheart?"

The tone strikes her core. The cold, condescending line while she can feel Rio's cunt fluttering and sucking her digits in as deep as they can.

Rio groans with a low, raspy sound from her chest. She nearly creeps forward again away from Agatha before she's stopped with a firm, flat palm on her lower back.

"You're gonna give me one more," Agatha stares plainly, the vein in her bicep more prominent as she increases her thrusts. "You hear me? Give me another."

She pistons her hand harder and faster, nowhere near how she can fuck Rio with a harness but still just as good. The noises falling from Rio's lips start loud and desperate, but quickly dissolve into tiny choking sounds as if she were struggling to even breathe from it all.

Agatha smiles with too many teeth and a wild look in her eye. "That's it, come on. Cum for daddy."

It's too much for Rio, having barely recovered from the intense orgasm earlier. She pinches her eyes closed to fight back the tears brimming from just how overwhelming it all was.

White hot pleasure rocks her to the depths of her soul while her body immediately tenses. She digs her hands into the carpet, holding herself steady as she coats Agatha's hand in her desire. The remnants of the cum lube manages to dribble out around Agatha's slowing fingers, pumping them in and out before she finally pulls out entirely to enjoy the mess she's made of the woman underneath her.

She pats Rio's ass with her wet hand, smug at the vision before her. "Daddy's proud of you, sweet girl."

Rio grunts, bordering on the verge of sleep after everything. Agatha sheds the strap from her waist, setting it on the floor before scooping Rio up in her arms with ease.

"We'll clean up in the morning," she presses a brief, sweet kiss to Rio's cheek, "Let's get you in bed before we both hate ourselves in the morning from sleeping on the floor. Again."

[ryuyejiho]

"Yours again" Jungkook

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader Genre: Smut Summary: Once lovers, then strangers. Now — even with someone else by her side — they're finding their way back. Word Count: 1.7k

I was lounging on a sunbed by the pool, lazily sipping on my drink. Soft chillout music played somewhere in the background while the warm breeze toyed with my hair.

Without thinking too much, I snapped a photo — my legs stretched out against the backdrop of the turquoise water, a sliver of the pool... and completely by accident, part of Jungkook's tattooed arm as he stepped forward in the water.

I didn't even notice. Honestly.

I posted the picture on Instagram and tossed my phone aside. It was supposed to be innocent. Just another vacation snapshot.

Minutes later, my phone started vibrating like crazy. The calm was shattered by an endless flood of notifications.

I picked it up.

"Who is that?!"

"Whose arm is that?!"

"ANSWER ME NOW."

Texts from my boyfriend blew up my screen, one after another, getting angrier by the second.

"Are you hiding something from me?!"

"Who the hell are you with?!"

"You think I'm stupid?!"

The phone kept ringing, notifications popping up nonstop. I let out an annoyed sigh.

Jungkook, leaning against the edge of the pool with his drink almost empty, raised an eyebrow at me.

"Someone's losing it," he said with a smirk, but there was a darkness behind his eyes that hadn't been there a moment ago.

I scrolled through a few more messages, each more frantic than the last.

"Where are you?"

"Why aren't you picking up?"

"If you don't answer, I swear I'll fly there and find you myself."

I scoffed under my breath.

"I can't believe I ever let him treat me like this," I muttered, tossing my phone down onto the pool tiles like it was nothing.

"He doesn't even deserve to know your name," Jungkook said, his voice low and rough. "Let alone have any claim on you. Why the hell are you still with him?"

I leaned my head back, closing my eyes for a second. Jungkook didn't push, just watched me with that intense, half-lidded gaze.

Jeon was my ex. Someone I shouldn't have been anywhere near. And yet — here we were. No promises, no grand declarations. Just stolen glances and small touches that said more than words ever could.

No one knew about us. And honestly? That was fine.

My "current boyfriend" — if I could even call him that anymore — was just a ghost in my life. All that was left between us was fights and his sick jealousy. He treated me like property. Like something to control, even when he knew he couldn't keep me.

I heard Jungkook climb out of the pool, the sound of dripping water hitting the hot tiles.

Then I felt his fingers ghost over my bare shoulder, slow and deliberate.

I didn't look at him — I didn't need to. His touch told me everything. Anger. Lust. The desperate need to remind me who I belonged to.

"Maybe I should remind you who really sees you... who actually treats you like you deserve," he whispered, his lips brushing my ear.

A shiver ran down my spine. Not from fear — never from fear.

I turned my head, meeting his gaze.

"Show me," I said, voice steady.

He didn't hesitate. He grabbed my hand, pulling me to my feet.

The sunlight danced across the water, but all I could feel was the heat radiating off Jungkook's body standing so close to mine.

"You already have everything you need," he murmured, his hand sliding down to my hip, gripping it firmly enough to make me gasp.

"You're not his anymore," he added, like it was a simple, undeniable truth.

I didn't answer. I didn't have to.

My heart was racing, and my body — my body had already chosen long before my mind could catch up.

Jungkook's fingers tightened on my hips, pulling me flush against him, closing the last sliver of distance between us.

"You have nothing left to lose," he growled, his breath hot against my skin.

And instead of replying, I kissed him.

Our bodies crashed together like waves under a burning sun, the heat between us making the world blur at the edges.

There was something in his eyes — not just dominance, but a flicker of something softer, something raw. Like he wasn't just claiming me. He was begging me to let him.

Our breakup had never been clean.

It wasn't a final conversation or a huge fight — just silence stretching longer and longer until the space between us became impossible to cross. His career took off, he was gone more than he was home, and then he left for the military.

he birthday party of our mutual friend was the moment when we started talking again.

We were supposed to be rebuilding a friendship.

Instead, we ended up rebuilding something very, very different — in his bed.

Now, his lips crashed into mine, rough and desperate, like all those buried feelings were too much to hold back anymore.

"Don't go," he snarled against my mouth, hands anchoring me in place like he was afraid I'd vanish.

He kissed me harder, messier, rawer, like we had wasted too much time pretending we didn't still belong to each other.

"Fuck this," he growled. "Fuck your boyfriend. Fuck pretending. Fuck hiding."

Before I could say anything, he grabbed my hand and dragged me toward the hotel.

We didn't care who saw. Not anymore.

My heart thundered against my ribs, adrenaline and desire sparking electric under my skin.

As soon as the elevator door slammed shut behind us, Jungkook pushed me against the wall and kissed me like a man starved.

His hands roamed down my body, yanking at the strings of my swimsuit like they were nothing more than annoyances in his way.

"You were never his," he hissed against my skin. "You were always mine."

I didn't answer. I didn't need to. He already knew.

The door clicked shut behind us with a heavy sound.

And then he spun me around, pinning me to the wall with a force that stole my breath.

His hands slid possessively down my hips, tearing at the fragile ties of my swimsuit like they offended him by even existing.

I felt his hot breath against my neck, ragged and shaky.

"I've had you before," he growled, freeing himself with one hand while still holding me captive against the wall. "But now? I need you even more."

I braced my forehead against the cool wall, trying to steady my breathing — but then he thrust into me in one hard, brutal move.

A helpless moan tore from my throat.

Jungkook cursed under his breath, gripping my hips even tighter.

He moved fast, rough, relentless — but there was something new in the way he touched me.

Something raw. Something desperate.

"My girl... mine," he whispered, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of my neck, leaving behind marks, proof, branding me.

My hands scraped against the wall, searching for something to hold onto as his pace became merciless.

His hand slid up to my throat, holding me there, a soft but undeniable reminder of exactly who I belonged to.

"No one else will touch you," he growled, voice dark and low. "No one else will even fucking look at you."

I felt him bite down on my neck, a fierce mark blooming under his teeth. A mark everyone would see. A mark that would scream to the world that I was his.

"I want everyone to know you're mine. I don't care about hiding. I don't care about anything but you," he hissed, every sharp thrust of his hips driving the words deeper into my bones.

Then, without warning, he spun me around to face him.

I sagged against the wall, legs trembling, heart hammering against my ribs.

Jungkook stared at me — wild, intense, something dark and something tender swirling in those deep, dark eyes.

Before I could catch my breath, he lifted me up, forcing my legs around his waist.

He carried me to the bed, throwing me down onto the soft sheets.

He didn't give me time to think.

He was on top of me instantly, his hands mapping every inch of my body like he was trying to memorize me, claim me all over again.

"You have no idea how much I missed you," he murmured, voice low and ragged.

Before I could even form a reply, he was inside me again — deeper, rougher, more desperate.

Our bodies moved together in a rhythm that was frantic, messy, real — like all the time we lost had finally caught up to us.

His forehead pressed against mine, sweat mingling between us, and in his eyes I saw everything.

Not just lust.

Love. Longing. Regret. Hope.

Everything we had lost and everything we were still too scared to name.

He cupped my face with one hand, kissed me so fiercely it felt like the world might end — and I didn't care if it did.

Because right now, there was only him.

Only us.

When we finally shattered together, it felt like the world tilted off its axis.

We stayed there, tangled up, breathing in the same rhythm.

He didn't move. Just held me tighter, like he was afraid if he let go, I'd disappear.

"You're not going anywhere," he whispered against my temple, his voice sure and steady.

He rolled us onto our sides, pulling me close against his chest.

His hands roamed my body, never staying still, like he needed the constant reassurance that I was really there.

But it was his gaze that seared into me most of all.

I opened my mouth to say something, but before I could, his hand slid up to cup the back of my neck, forcing me to meet his eyes.

They burned into mine, raw, aching, desperate.

"Fuck pretending," he growled. "Fuck acting like I don't love you."

My heart stopped for a beat.

Jungkook didn't look away. Didn't flinch.

He just held my gaze, waiting.

I didn't say it back.

I didn't need to.

He already knew.

[missamyrisa2]

Put your arms out and put those hands on the wall because it's time for me to snuggle up from behind and drag my nails up and down your arms ~ fluttering featherlight on those inner elbowsssss ~ giving little cascade strokes on your wrists ~ gentle rubbiessss on the elbows in tight circles ~ loving massagesssss slow and sensual on those muscles ~ back down with raindrop taps ~ mmhmm whispering how pretty you are, how lovely you are to make such sweet sounds for me, with this gorgeousssss bodyyyy all writhyyy and sensitive ~ nails going back up againnnnn up to your uppermost arms as I give little kisses to the back of your neck and shoulders ~ and back down to get those inner elbows once more, blowing sweet puffs of air and murmuring tickle tickle tickle tickle tickle in your ear ~ my form so close to youuuu ~ brushing against your back, you can feel the details of my cute outfit, my scent so near as I snuggle extra close ~ I want you utterly intoxicated, absolutely fuzzy and tickle drunk, only able to keep up because I have you between me and the wall ~ I know you want tickles elsewhere on this beautiful ticklish bodyyyyy I know I knowwww but right now isn't it nice just ticklesssss on your arms and shoulders and wristssss ~

At least, until it's time for hand worship tickles~

Yessss hand worship tickles ~

Ohhhh the hand worship ticklesssss

Your tickledrunk self all wanttyyy and taken to the soft fluffy bed ~ lay down and put those arms up as I kneel close and smile knowingly ~ I'll take that wrist and secure your hand so I can take out my little soft supple makeup brush, testing all along each finger. Down your pinky, testing the tip, tickling each band of sensitivity, getting to the bottom and moving to your ring finger and giving it rings of tickles with my cute brush back and forth. Your middle finger is a laughy finger, so much length to explore up and down and down and up again ~ and that cuteeee index finger just the right length and wigglienessss ~ I have to kissssss yes I dooo ~ little tinyy butterfly kissiessss on your finger, gentle muahsss on each bit. And that thumb gets the lickiesssss ever so carefully around and around.

And what's thisssss? Your hand has so many linessss darling. Such a work of art on that palm. Is that an M? Or a W? I think my feather tip is the only way to be sure. Tracing all those lovely artful lines on your palmyyy palm. I knowwww it tickles so bad but we have to do this ~ this is what you need this is where you belong, all tickled and wiggly and safe and lovedddd yessss this is for your own gooood~~~ now if you would jussssstttt cooperate with me and let the feather do its work ~ mmhhh tickle lines, giggle lines, riiiight along hereeee and down there. My feather really loves your hand my giggly toyyyyy ~ tickle tickle palm ticklish palm~ ohh yesss and we're testing the webbing between each finger tooooo yes we are oh yesssss yes yessss ~ sawing that feather between each and everyyyyy finger between the index and middle coochie coo and between ring and middle tickle tickle and always between pinky poo and ringy roo ~~~

Ahhh and yes I have another surprise for you my buzzyyy darling you need some hmmm vibrational finger therapyyyyy ~ yes you're all sensitive and sweet and I have my little red travel wanddd ~ look at this tiny bulb isn't it so cute? And so perfect for finger stimulation~ we just buzzzzz on that finger tipppp and ohhh it tickles so goooodddd ~ ticklishness ~ tiiiiicklishnesssss ~ down your finger and up and ohhh it's soooo bad huhhhh ~ just let it out darling let out alllll your sounds now ~ because now I'm taking that hand and these yummy ticklish fingers and I'm taking each one like thisssssss between my lipsssss ohhh the soft teasyyy lipssss all the worship for each tapered cute finger in and outtttt and when we're done it's nothing but gentle loving sensual puffs of air blown across each sensitive digit ~

And the best part? You have a whole other hand I get to do alllll the same fun things to next ~<33

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

ok I can definitely say HOW I'd go out, which I usually wear a black dress, a bit frilly and flowy, but short. My hair is black, wavy and long and I put it on a ponytail with a black lace ribbon. I wear a ton of accessories like rings, a black beaded rosary as a necklace and usually 3 pairs of earrings (I got like 6 pierced holes in my ears lmao). I'm midsized, so a bit chubby and short.

I guess you can tell I'm a bit goth-adjacent lol but my makeup usually isn't that heavy. I do have over 12 tattoos though.

As for how I'd try to rizz them......... I'm so bad at trying to rizz 😭 I think I'd just try to strike up a conversation and keep staring at them as they talk and being very touchy maybe?? I can't flirt with words to save my life tbh 🧍🏻‍♀️ my favorite cod man is Soap but idk if I'd pull him being gloomy and quiet LMAO

first of all..... hey. how you doin bb ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Soap is right up your alley tbh. he likes you because you're a little intimidating to other dudes (so, a challenge). he likes a lady who looks like she might have claws.

catch him trying to compare tattoos. he tells you he'll show you the rest of his back at his place. he's not even subtle about it.

intimidating stare? he'll hold it. even if it's scary. he's completely chaotic, you know him. doesn't matter if you look like a bad idea; he's all about making those.

the good news is once you start touching him... feeling up his arms and stuff, it's game over, and he's definitely ready to haul your ass out of the bar and back to his place.

not to mention the dress you're wearing. that catches his eye in a big way. he really wants to get his hands up under there to figure out what else you are (or aren't) wearing. you'll be lucky if he waits until the lyft/taxi makes it back to his place before he starts getting real handsy around your skirt.

also he's gonna pull your hair. and pick you up and manhandle you around. just sayingggg <3 <3

more Soap / masterlist

[paracosm-draw]

omg PLEASE do "a surprise kiss during laughter, when one just can’t help it anymore and finally caves", i need silly fluff in my life

I'm back from my 48h of hell (night shifts at the hospital) and I finally slept enough to be able to answer all the asks !

I've got two asks for this prompt, so here we go nonnies ☀️ It starts with a little bit of angst but don't worry it has a very happy ending 😌 Hope you'll like it 💕

---

The weeks after the death of the Duchess Kryze had been the longest ones Anakin had had to endure in a while. Time seemed to stretch on and on until he was feeling worn out even though he wasn't the one in mourning. In the short time he had met Satine, he had appreciated her for her sense of duty, her wit rivaling Obi-Wan’s and the fact that she wasn’t afraid to take controversial but necessary decisions in order to act for her people instead of getting bogged down in endless, pointless debates. He appreciated her but he didn't know her. Not like Obi-Wan did. 

Anakin knew that he was grieving. In his own way and at his own pace. He wouldn't admit it and he wouldn’t talk about it - not that Anakin knew how to approach the delicate subject - but he was grieving. He was grieving a long-time friend and a confidant in the eyes of the majority of people. For Anakin, he was also grieving a more secret, more intimate thing he kept carefully locked inside of his heart, a thing Anakin could only guess from rare and meager clues, since he didn’t have the key to said heart. 

At first, he had tried to deal with the situation like he had when he had lost his mother. Mourning was an universal experience, after all. People probably grieved all the same, he thought. He remembered how angry he’d been at the time. How it had led to one of the worst decisions of his life. How the anger hadn’t subsided after that, but seeped deeper inside of his bones, left to rot, dormant but never gone. He had thought then, that Obi-Wan might be angry too.

It turned out Obi-Wan wasn't angry. He was sad and nostalgic, which was worse. Worse because Anakin had no clue about how to deal with that, with something other than anger, with something that didn’t push him to action but rather kept him still. He had no idea about what Obi-Wan needed. Was it comfort ? Was it loneliness ? Was it something else ? Someone else ? Someone who knew exactly what words to say, what level of physical touch to use, when to take him out and when to leave him in peace ? Someone who knew how to bring back to life the beloved spark that had quietly died down in Obi-Wan's eyes ?

Someone who was not Anakin. Anakin who didn’t know what to say and how to comfort and when to let go. Anakin who was too much or never enough, and who wanted nothing more than to take his pain away and to make it his own, to curl up around Obi-Wan like a loyal tooka and stay there until his heart unbroke on its own. 

So that's what he decided to do. He stayed there, by his side. Awkwardly, most of the time. Refusing mission after mission to keep an eye on him and inventing excuses after excuses when Obi-Wan asked him about it. He stayed and watched, willing to continue doing so until Obi-Wan got annoyed and sent him off. It hadn’t happened yet so Anakin kept watching. Maybe a little too much- 

“Anakin, be caref-” 

Obi-Wan's exclamation got lost in the impact that rattled through Anakin’s skull as he walked straight into a pole, in the middle of Coruscant’s crowded streets. The shock sent him down on his butt as an acute wave of pain traveled from his forehead to the back of his neck, making his vision blur and his ears ring for a second. 

“Oh dear, are you alright ?!” 

Obi-Wan had crouched next to him, a supporting hand on his shoulder. Anakin blinked and turned his head to him, his forehead pounding unpleasantly.

“Uh…” 

He didn't know what was the most humiliating, to be honest. The fact that he didn’t see that pole because he was - once again - too busy staring at Obi-Wan, the obvious bump slowly starting to grow on his forehead or the fact that Obi-Wan was… laughing ? Or trying not to, at least. But the way his eyes crinkled on the corners and the effort he put on biting his lips betrayed him. Not the reaction Anakin expected. He tilted his head on the side, confused and clearly dumbstruck, and that exact thing was what seemed to be the last straw for Obi-Wan Kenobi, poised and respectable Master Jedi in mourning. 

He burst out laughing. Not the polite and discrete laugh he gave politicians with his hand above his mouth, not the occasional chuckles he graced Anakin when he did or said something funny, but a true, bright laugh that came right from his chest, head thrown back and teeth in display. His whole body shook with the strength of it, tears gathering at the corner of his eyes before spilling along his cheeks, a blush spreading from the tip of his ears to the collar of his tabard. He laughed like he was unable to stop and Anakin stared, bewildered, all pain and humiliation forgotten in favor of absolute awe. 

He didn’t remember when he’d seen Obi-Wan laugh like that for the last time. If  he even had. But from now on it would be his number one priority. Obi-Wan looked… free, like that. Younger, unburdened, happy. Gorgeous. Something violent stirred in Anakin's chest, something he had spent years trying to tame and bury. To forget. Something which now ferociously clawed at the inside of his ribcage to get out, drawn by that laugh that sounded like a miracle.  

"I'm- I'm sorry, A- Anakin. It's just-" Obi-Wan hiccupped, then doubled over with laughter, teeth flashing and tears spilling.

The beast in Anakin's chest roared. He leaned forward, his hands finding the strong lines of Obi-Wan’s shoulders, and stole the marvelous sound directly from his source. He wasn’t thinking, not really, rather acting on instinct. Obi-Wan stopped laughing with a surprised gasp, which was the opposite of what Anakin was trying to achieve, really. He froze but didn’t try to push him away, so Anakin pressed his lips tighter against his mouth and squeezed his eyes shut, heart beating wildly in his chest. 

A lifetime might have passed, or probably just the blink of an eye, when Obi-Wan moved again, a gentle hand cupping Anakin’s jaw. His mouth moved against his own, not to kiss back but to pronounce a little word that meant everything for Anakin when it came from Obi-Wan. His name. Uncertain. Questioning.

“Anakin…” 

The warmth of his breath tingled Anakin’s lips, who opened his mouth to let out his own, short and shaky. Their mouths brushed, soft and parted, and Anakin pushed forward to fit them together again. The fingers on his jaw strengthened, not to stop him but to pull him closer, he realized in wonder when lips pressed back against his own. The hand on his face traveled to the back of his neck, curling around the base of his hair and holding him tight. Anakin sighed softly against the touch, moving his own hand to cup the side of Obi-Wan’s face, fingers grazing against the edge of his beard as their mouths tentatively discovered each other. 

It feels right, was the first thought crossing Anakin’s mind. The way they fitted together, the taste of his own spit on Obi-Wan’s lips, the gentle burn of his mustache against his mouth, the sweet noises they drew from each other. More than that, the way their dormant bond had ignited alive at the faintest brush of their lips, the way their Force signatures had curled up against each other, so tightly entangled they couldn't tell where Anakin’s was starting and where Obi-Wan's was ending. The synchronization of their pulse. The light trembling of their bodies. The fact that they stayed intertwined after breaking the kiss, breathing in each other’s space like it was the only source of oxygen. 

Anakin slipped his fingers behind Obi-Wan’s ears, pressing his forehead against his as his thumb gently caressed his cheekbone. 

“I want to hear you laugh like that again.” He murmured. 

Obi-Wan let out a chopped breath which sounded suspiciously like a disbelieving chuckle. 

“Even at the expense of your pretty head ?” 

“I would gladly hit my head on every pole I see, if it’s what it takes.” Anakin answered fiercely, maybe a little too much, but he was rewarded with a laugh. Another. He preciously bottled it in a corner of his mind.

“Ridiculous boy.” Obi-Wan shook his head fondly and brushed the tip of his fingers around the bump ornating his forehead. “You didn’t have to go to such extremes, you know ? I’d rather you keep that lovely face of yours unharmed.” 

Anakin shrugged, but before he got the chance to think about a clever answer, Obi-Wan leaned in and pressed a kiss on the corner of his mouth, making his mind go blank. Again. 

“We should pay a visit to the Halls of Healing, just to make sure you don't have a concussion.” Obi-Wan decided. 

“Uh- Yeah, sure.” Anakin answered dumbly, feeling strangely dizzy and rather hot all of the sudden. 

“Great.” Obi-Wan grinned. He gently placed another kiss on his temple before grabbing his arm to help him get up. “Let’s go, before you realize.” 

Realize what, Anakin didn’t really know. But he would gladly follow Obi-Wan to the depths of Hell if he kept kissing him like that. 

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Can I Keep You Touch It? (Eren x Geto x F!Reader 18+ One Shot)

Pairing: Rapper!Eren Yeager x Stripper!Reader x CEO!Geto Suguru

Synopsis: You’ve been working at a high-end strip club for a couple years now and have quickly racked up popularity among the high rollers for your confidence, moves, looks, and wicked ways of getting to their pockets. But when you find yourself caught between two wealthy and sexy men in particular who have interested you (mostly because of the strange butterflies they give you), you will have to ask yourself if the money is worthy giving up on something special when they ask you to choose between them.

Warnings: Smutty Smut, 18+ (MINORS DNI), Pole Dancing, Lap Dance, Strip Tease, Love Triangle, Reader Is A Gold Digger, Possessive MDom!Eren + Possessive MDom!Geto x fsub!Reader, Exhibitionism, Public/VIP Room Sex, Threesome, Doggystyle, Cowgirl, Slutification, Degradation/Praise, Dual Blowjob, Oral (Giving & Receiving), Spanking, CMNF (briefly), Finger Sucking, Aftercare, Poly Love

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer's Note: Had this little idea in my head for a minute now & I'm still on my Eren hyper fixation lol. He's so fun to write about! I hope y'all enjoy! -Jazz

*****************

It was another weekend working in the club tonight...or so you thought when you first walked in.

Until you caught the whiff of his cologne: wealthy and sweet, like him.

You smelled it the minute you were doing your rounds on the floor before you were ordered to one of the VIP rooms or put on stage for one of your routines. It seemed lately that your boss has been putting you on stage more and more...probably because he knows you bring in the big ballers.

Everybody knows it, including you. It isn't just the fullness of your titties or the way they bounce in your itty bitty bikini tops or bodysuits. It isn't just the way your ass bounces and moves like Jell-O, transfixing anyone who watches. It isn't just your smooth skin or pretty face or sultry eyes.

It is your confidence. The way you present yourself. How you walk and talk when you enter the domaine of the strip club night after night. And how you're able to drain a man out of his last dollar with just some sweet talk and the promise of your number.

He is here tonight. Again. For you.

Hopefully.

You see him walk in, carrying the same confidence that got you before. It is a quiet yet intense aura that makes your body tingle and your stomach flip. You suppose that is what has gotten him such a devoted fanbase other than his raspy tones on his music.

As soon as he steps into the room, all eyes are on him. He has captured others' attention. Clients and strippers alike eye him down, some with excitement and others with lust. It isn't every day that one sees a celebrity wander into the same place as them.

Eren Yeager, popular rapper/singer/dancer/songwriter, is the "IT boy", one could say. He used to be in a K/JPOP group before he went solo three years ago and since then, he has been on every billboard, magazine, and woman's shirt known to man. You've listened to his music before you met him, so you know his appeal. You can't deny that you've gotten butterflies hearing him switch from English to Japanese to Korean in his songs, flexing his bilingual talent.

It also helps that the man is fine as fuck. Tonight, he wears $1,1000 Balenciaga sneakers that he has paired with jeans, a silver chain, rings on his fingers, and a white tee that shows the outline of his pecs and forearms soooo nicely. He has put his long, black hair up in a bun tonight. When you met, it was down at his shoulders.

His tattoos are prominent and enchanting, roping up and down his toned arms. His piercings-one etched into his brow, a couple in his ears, one in his bottom lip-glisten in the dim violet lights above, giving him a very dangerous look that has gotten you wet many times before.

His intense grey eyes scan the room, searching. Maybe for you? You hope so. You were hoping he would come tonight. He said he was coming home from a press run overseas in London today, but had time tonight. "I'm never too busy for you," he said to you over the phone. "You know that." You never admitted to yourself how much that made your stomach flutter.

You stand at the bar in your bedazzled red bra that holds your titties up and in, your mini skirt with just a sliver of your ass poking out, and your gold heels that you swear bring you good luck. You're well aware that you're getting stares as you usually do, even when you're just standing around waiting for your drink.

It is the price of being beautiful, you suppose. You know you tend to attract eyes with your glossy hair, creamy skin, intense eyes, and thick thighs. Not to mention your walk and your moves when you dance. You take pride in your job, whether some think it's dirty or not. You're just making a buck.

You turn away from looking at the tattooed, pierced-up stud, not wanting him to see you watching him first. That is what happened the first time you met: you eyed him down and he noticed. But now? You want him to eye you down instead.

Your bestie and favorite bartender Yuki comes wandering over in her six-inch heels and a secretive smile on her face. She leans over to talk to you, keeping her voice down to avoid any patrons hearing. The club is packed tonight.

"He's here again, you know," she whispers. You raise an eyebrow at her and she nods at the rapper. You don't turn around to see if he has left the entrance and is heading towards you. "What'd you do to him?" she giggles.

"Watchu mean?" you chuckle. "I didn't do nothin' but get him hooked on this body." You run a hand down your physique, smiling cockily. Yuki rolls her eyes, but giggles, pausing to assist a client with another shot of brown liquor.

You then turn to look over your shoulder at Eren and finally, your eyes lock. It is as if the entire room vanishes, leaving only you two in the room. He smiles, and it aches. It is a happy, adoring smile that means he is happy to see you. And dammit, you're happy to see him too.

You abruptly turn back around to face Yuki, your heart pounding wildly. She gives you a smile, but you can tell she is worried. She taps one of her glossy, burgundy nails against your chin. "You know what the boss says about makin' personal relationships with the clients."

You roll your eyes. You don't want to hear anything about those stupid ass rules. "Please," you scoff, waving your bejeweled acrylic nails. "He only says that he doesn't want baby mama drama if one of the girls wind up pregnant by one of 'em. That won't be me."

You give Yuki a smirk over the bar and tease a lock of her blonde hair. "I'm just gettin' to the bag," you snicker. "Like I always do." But even when you say that, you can feel the twinge of guilt in your gut. You've been "talking" to Eren for over a month now. A month of nonstop chatting, flirting, and teasing.

You will admit that the minute you saw Eren, you saw dollar signs. But how else can you see men when they walk through the doors of the club? You make your living dancing on a pole! Of course, you're going to try to squeeze these guys out of their checks to pay your bills!

So when you saw Eren, you saw an opportunity. You figured he'd eventually get tired of you and cut your strings loose soon, especially since you haven't let him hit yet. All men are like that, you have learned...all men who come to the club, that is. 'But maybe Eren is different,' a little voice in your head argues. You push it away.

"Just be careful, Y/N," Yuki worriedly says. "He's hot, but he doesn't seem like he likes to share. What if one day, he swoops you up out of here and we never see you again?" You just laugh, tittering at her. "That would be my happy ending," you giggle. "Now gimme a shot."

Yuki still looks concerned, but pours you a shot of your favorite tequila. You down it and suck on a lime before you have the courage to stand and properly greet Eren, but to your surprise, he is gone. You begin to slowly strut away from the bar, searching for him among the lights and people.

You then feel a hand gently grasp yours. You turn, prepared to bark at the non-consenting touch, but your prepared lecture is stunted by Eren's pretty face and eyes. "So you just gonna walk around like you ain't see me?" He cocks his head to the side, acting mock offended. "What's up witchu?"

You crack a smile, trying hard to swallow your butterflies at being so close to him. "What's up witchu?" you playfully shoot back. "I was gettin' to you, but I have my rounds too. Nice to see you again, Eren."

His smile is so infectious, it's annoying. "You too, Princess." He way he says your stripper name is close to dirty talk to your ears. "Actually, since we're on the subject of names, when are you gonna tell me yours?"

There are two things that you don't do with clients: tell them your birth name or fall in love. Both make things too messy, especially when money is involved. They are the two rules you follow always, no matter how tempted you are to break them for Eren. "A lady doesn't draw all her cards at once," you giggle, flipping your hair back. "Don't you think the mystery is sexy? So what brings you back here again tonight?"

Eren passively shrugs, acting nonchalant. "I dunno, the mystery is kinda sexy." You roll your eyes at his quip, earning a very sexy laugh in return. "I just got back from my London trip and figured I'd drop in to see you."

He shoves a hand in his pocket, suddenly looking sheepish. "I...missed you," he confesses. "Those texts only did so much." You ignore the way your heart flutters at his confession. "Well, I hope the videos helped," you purr, referring to the very lewd videos you sent him after too much wine.

Eren's eyes light up at the mention of them. "Thank God I'm back so I can get the physical thing," he softly growls, snapping back the red nylon of your stockings. "Oh, and before I forget..." He pauses, digs into his pocket, and presents you with a small wrapped box.

Your heart shoots into your throat. "What's this?" you curiously ask. He smirks at you. "A bomb. Open it and find out, silly girl." You do as ordered and melt at the sight of the little Hello Kitty figurine dressed in a Queen's Guard uniform with the funny hat staring back at you.

Eren blushes, somehow looking hotter. "It ain't much, but I remember you sayin' how much you love Hello Kitty and I saw this in a window."

You stare at the gift for longer than necessary, gobsmacked. No client has ever given you a gift before besides an extra tip or the usual, unwanted dick pics. "Thank you, Eren," you whisper. You saunter up to him, watching his proud smile fade as he gets a good look at you.

You place a hand on his shoulder and lean in to whisper in his ear. "Wait for me in the back. Call for me in about fifteen." You pull away to see the hot, unwavering look in his eyes, making you melt in your skirt and stockings. He makes you drip even more when he suddenly leans in and presses a soft kiss to your cheek. "I'll be waitin' for you," he whispers.

Before you can even utter a single breath, he walks off, heading towards the VIP rooms where he always goes to be alone with you. After taking a moment to get yourself together, you tell Yuki to hide your present in your locker (after telling her to shut up with all of that excited squealing) and start to make your rounds.

But again, you're stopped by a hand grabbing yours. You yank your hand away and turn around to fuss at the patron. The nerve of these men! "Whoa!" you yell, about to rip into this stranger's asshole. "Hands off the merchandise, mother..."

Your tongue lashing dies down when you get a look at the tall, dark, and handsome stud standing before you in his long-sleeve top that hugs his toned upper torso and big forearms the way you'd like to and sweats. Definitely not the ideal outfit for a CEO. He has his hair down tonight, each glossy, raven-colored lock cascading down his broad shoulders, covering his gage piercings.

He, too, has piercings-silver snakebites in his bottom lip, one in his eyebrow, and the other embedded in his tongue. You've seen it many times before. All of that somehow fits his handsome face, sharp cheekbones, and violet eyes so increasingly well.

Oh, shit. He's here too. Another one of your "tricks" in your stable that you've been chatting up for a month: Geto Suguru, owner of his own popular clothing company. Hot, wealthy, and generous with his money. Just your type. Just like Eren.

"I'm sorry, hon," he says, sounding genuine. "I didn't realize you didn't like my touch anymore." You feel yourself trembling at the sound of his silky, deep voice and the sweet scent of vanilla on his skin. "Shit, Geto," you sigh. "Sorry, I thought you were-"

"Some drunk bum sittin' by the bar waitin' for a dance?" he chuckles. "No worries. Though if I looked like you, I'd definitely have dudes pay to touch me too." He gives you a smile that is blinding and painful for you. It is one filled with joy to see you. "How are you tonight, love?" he asks.

You swallow, doing your best to relax. "G-Good...now. What brings you here tonight?" You weren't expecting both of these men to be here tonight. They usually aren't in the same place at the same time. And then you tell yourself to stop being a dumb bitch. You aren't dating either one of these guys, so why do you feel so nervous and guilty?

Geto shrugs his broad shoulders, the collar of his shirt low enough to see the koi fish neck tattoo he is sporting. "Oh, y'know: the expensive drinks, the stimulating music, and the appealing skin shows." That's another thing you like about Geto: his humor. He has the same dry, Dad humor that you do that makes you giggle whenever you're giving him lap dances.

"Of course, you know I'm fuckin' with you," he chuckles, cracking another gorgeous smile. "Of course, you know I'm here for you."

"Oh, you are?" you flirtatiously ask. He nods, his violet eyes glistening with mirth and interest in the lights. "Mmm-hmm. After all, you promised me a dance and a date the last time I was here."

"I did?" you ask. And then your brain backtracks to a week ago when Geto visited and you threw back too many chocolate vodka shots so you were hot in the mouth. "I did," you realize.

Noticing your reaction, Geto frowns. "Guess you can't do the date yet?" he gently asks. He places a gentle hand on your shoulder, burning you down to the bone. "Hey, don't worry about it. You will when you're ready, okay?"

That is another thing you unfortunately like about Geto: his sweetness. He is by far the sweetest, most considerate man you've ever met. You feel so horrible for leading him on the way you are. He has been asking for a date for a longest time, but it is always an excuse. Just like with Eren.

"I just don't know when I'm gonna get off tonight," you lamely explain. He nods, but you both know that he knows you're bullshitting. "But I can give you a dance," you offer, giving him a smile. "You'll just have to wait a bit though."

Instantly, storm clouds cloud his eyes and he scowls. He and Eren both aren't too keen on sharing you and you can't imagine how they would feel knowing that one is in front of the other for a dance. "Why? You got somebody before me?"

You nervously twirl the end of your hair, thinking things over. "W-Well..." You stop, getting an idea. A very bad idea. "Actually, come with me real quick." You take Geto's hand in yours and you ignore how much bigger in size it is compared to yours as you weave through the club to the VIP rooms.

The VIP rooms are by far the nicest rooms in the club with their comfy furniture, mini bars, private showers, and soundproof walls. Eren is currently chilling in the one you and Geto enter, sitting on a couch facing a stripper pole attached to the wall and trailing to the floor.

He instantly looks up when he hears your heels clicking across the floor and tosses his phone aside. "Hey, you," he says, adoration in his voice. "I thought you'd forgotten about me and went off to..." He trails off as his eyes flick to Geto. Confusion and irritation registers across his face. "Who the fuck are you?" he asks, venom in his tone.

Geto barely looks intimidated. "Who the fuck are you?" he asks, unbothered.

You clear your throat, closing the door behind you. "Um, Suguru, this is Eren. Eren, this is Suguru. Tonight, you're both my clients and I'm caught in a bind, so y'all are gonna have to share me for a few minutes." Eren scowls in confusion. "A few minutes? You don't got an hour?"

"I have other duties, Eren," you slightly giggle. "Fuck that. Your boss knows I got the money to pay for an hour." The CEO slips his wallet out, giving you a smile that pisses Eren off. "So do I," Geto replies. "For two hours, actually."

You stare wide-eyed at the wallet where a golden American Express card glistens at you. Two hours?! This man definitely came here with an agenda. But so did Eren. Obviously looking for a challenge, he pulls a wad of crisp bills out of his pocket, a Black Card wrapped up in the dollars. You never thought you could get so wet over money before...but maybe that's just because of the men holding it.

You place your hands on your hips like a fed-up mom, popping up your hip as you glare at them. "Well, this as good as you two are gonna get right now, so please...no fighting."

The two men are still staring each other down, both looking like they want the other to disappear. "Do y'all want a dance or not?" you huff. After another silent stare down, they finally break and give in to your conditions. "Fine," they both sigh.

You smile, pleased. "Good boys. Now relax and let me some drinks." You aware hyper-aware of the two studs ogling your ass as you strut to the mini bar to whip them up some vodka tonics, the only drink you know how to make.

As the two get comfortable on either side of the couch, Eren whips out his pre-rolled blunts like he usually does. As he flicks open the lighter, letting the blunt hang between his lips, Geto curiously eyes him. "Y'know, you do look familiar," he says. Eren raises a brow, confused. "Yeah, I've seen you in here before. With her."

He nods at you across the way. You puts around pouring the drinks, pretending that you don't hear them. You also sip a bit more than you pour, needing the liquid confidence. You can feel yourself becoming nervous. You look up to examine them from afar as if you're on a safari and you're about to witness two male lions go at it for their prey.

"Yeah," Eren deadpans. "Where else would I be? And I'm guessin' you're here for the same reason?"

Geto acts as if he didn't hear the previous quip from the hot-headed rapper. "Depends," he replies, tossing an arm behind the couch and placing an ankle on his opposite knee. "I'm not one for competing in challenges that I'll win, but I like friendly competitions here an' there."

Silence descends upon you and the tension is so thick that you could cut the bitch with a chainsaw. You strut back over with their drinks, carefully eyeing the two men. "You two gettin' along?" you ask, raising a sharp brow. They silently nod though they look anything but happy. "Good!" you giggle.

You hand them their drinks and proceed to move to the music playing. It is Brent Faiyaz from what you can hear thumping through the walls. "Now stop bitchin' and look here," you order. Like two dogs hearing Pavlov's bell, the two studs abruptly sit up at the change in your tone and the sight of your body. "Yes, ma'am," they both reply in unison.

You smile, relishing in their interested, lustful stares at your body as you sway and gyrate your hips, grasping the pole beside you. You flip your hair, do the "left cheek, right cheek" twerk that they seem to like so much, and do your whole sexy shtick, keeping eye contact the entire time.

It is easy for you to follow the beat depending on what is playing. Mostly because you love dancing. You love to feel the cool metal of the pole and feel your feet in the air as you swing, spin, and twirl on the stripper pole. You lose yourself in your movements and the feeling you get from being watched by the two studs.

They can't get enough of you, their lids becoming hooded as they watch the show before them. It may also be the vodka and the weed curiosity of Eren's blunt, but you can see the lust quickly filling their irises.

By the time you finish working the pole, you're out of breath and shining in sweat. The body oil you wear makes you shimmer as if you're a Goddess blessing the two humans sitting before you. "You both paid for a lap dance, right?" you ask. "Then you get two minutes each."

The two don't argue with your statement, both looking ready to snatch you up at any point. You choose to do Eren first. As soon as you lower yourself onto the floor and crawl towards him, giving him (and Geto) a great view of your arch and your soft ass, the rapper sits up straight and leans forward, his blunt and his drink forgotten.

You place your hands on his thighs as you wedge yourself between them, your heart pounding as his natural scent and cologne fill your nose. You trail your hands up his body, feeling him up, and press against his chest to push him back against the couch. He lets you, his eyes never leaving yours.

You then straddle him, placing each leg over thighs, and begin to grind yourself into his groin that you can feel hardening beneath you. Eren hums in pleasure, placing one hand on your ass while he smokes his blunt with the other, doing his best to blow the smoke away from you.

You don't usually let clients touch you while you dance, but you often make an exception for Eren and Geto (not at all because you crave their touch). "Fuck," Eren exhales, the word dripping from his lips. "You're perfect. So perfect for me."

You feel as if you are with the way he stares at you through his hooded, red eyes. He looks upon you as if you are the best thing since sliced bread. You can feel his cock pulse underneath you, throbbing and ready to-

"My turn," Geto orders. He looks damn near feral as he watches you on top of Eren and pats his lap. "Hop on, baby." He gives you a playful smile, ignoring Eren's sharp glare his way. You giggle despite the tension and unhook yourself from Eren's lap despite his very possessive ass grab.

Now is Geto's turn. He too watches you like he wants to kiss you all over as you lower yourself down onto his lap, your back to him. You proceed to grind your ass back in his face, swirling your hips around and around. During this, your ass grazes his hard-on a few times, earning you soft moans that make the hairs on your body stand on end.

When you lie back against Geto's chest and hook a thigh over his lap, you catch a glimpse of Eren watching. Though he is irritated, you notice the pulsing tent beneath his pants. Geto distracts you by wrapping an arm around your waist, his hand grazing your thigh. "God, you look nice sittin' there," he sighs. "I could get used to this view...preferably somewhere other than a strip club."

"Like where?" you ask, the vodka and weed smoke fogging your brain. Geto doesn't answer, leaving his answer open for interpretation as his arm becomes a little too firm around your waist. You can also feel his lips ghosting across your neck which is highly against stripper protocol.

Luckily, Eren cuts in by slamming his drink down on the table. "Time's up, asshole," he growls. "You went over. It's my turn with her." Geto's hold on you tightens, possessive and stubborn. "Oh, is it?" he asks, feigning innocence. "I didn't notice. My bad."

Eren practically snatches you up and sits you down in his lap, encouraging you to move with his hands on your hips. They shouldn't be there, but you don't move them. You like them too much. Heat radiates from between your thighs, meshing with Eren's hard-on that is quickly growing harder underneath you.

And then, you feel them: his lips on your neck, peppering your skin in kisses. Your eyes flick over to Geto watching you, his face oddly stoic. "Eren, wait," you weakly say. "You can't-"

"Touch you?" he finishes. "Kiss you? Why not? It's not like we ain't done this before." He pauses to stare at you, his eyes flashing. "Or is it because he's here?"

Geto laughs, humored by this as his hand gently caresses your ankle. The soft touch makes your stomach flutter and your nipples tingle. "I'm not usually the jealous type, but seein' you with someone who ain't me is startin' to get under your man's skin."

The alcohol and weed may be affecting you, but not enough to miss what he just said. "M-My what?" you gasp.

Eren catches it too and practically simmers with anger. With a growl, he gently scoots you off of him and places you in the middle of him and Geto. "That's fuckin' it!" he snaps. "I'm tired of this back and forth bullshit, Princess. You need to choose.”

You blink at him, shocked by his sudden outburst. The influence that you're under and the arousal you're feeling make you process everything a little bit slow than you usually do. “What are you talkin’ about?” you softly ask.

Geto chuckles at your cuteness, taking a sip of his Vodka Tonic. “It ain’t rocket science, cutie. You’re a smart girl. Smart enough to get two of us in the same room fightin’ over you.”

You scowl, not sure how to take his words. Does he know your plan? “I-I don’t know-“

“Don’t do that,” the CEO firmly says, and you button your lip. Yes, he does know your plan. “We know you were after the money. It’s okay, baby! A club like this is full of go-getters like you.” He reaches over, gently stroking your thigh. “But I know you weren’t prepared for either of us to want more from you."

You blink at him, shook beyond belief. They don't even know you! You haven't even told them your real name! Geto's eyes shift to Eren, his expression steely. “Though I’m not too keen on you showin’ the attention you showed me to someone else.”

Eren gives his blunt a puff and sits it on the ashtray on the table. “And neither am I," he huffs. "I don’t got you on a leash, babe, but I’m about ready to do it if it means havin’ you to myself." He leans over to whisper in your ear, his lip ring toying with your earlobe. “And I can pay you way more than he can.”

You flinch away from him as if you have been burned. He looks hurt by your action. “I don’t want your money, Ren,” you softly say. “And I don’t like being cornered either.”

“Would you rather we discuss it over dinner?” Geto sarcastically asks. “Pardon the attitude. Vodka isn’t my strongest suit.” Despite the blow, you realize that he is right. It's bad enough they both know your little plan to make bank off of them, playing them like a fiddle for a month.

But could they also possibly know that you've been second-guessing that? That you've been thinking about giving in to their offers for dates and something more than just a lap-dance, hot makeup sessions, and flirting?

You look between the two men, hot as ever and possessive. All for you. Any woman would kill to be in your position right now! You would be stupid to give this moment up. Maybe it's the weed or the vodka or the fact that they both smell so good, their colognes mingling with each other, but one of the three makes you bold enough to express your interest.

"W-Well...I could think it over, but..." You trail off, not sure what else to say. Your tongue is heavy and your mouth feels like it's full of cotton. "But what, love?" Geto gently asks, walking his fingers up your leg. They settle on your skirt, toying with the thin fabric. "You need a little persuasion?"

He suddenly leans in, pressing a kiss to your neck on your left that makes your body sing. Eren does the same thing, pressing kisses to the right side of your neck, leaving trails of fire in his wake. "How much for an hour?" he softly growls.

"E-Eren, I can't-"

"Don't try that with me again. You're talkin' 'bout doin' more in here than just dancin', so how much?"

You bite your lip, feeling heat pool between your thighs as the men's kisses grow more feverish and passion. "I-I'm not sure," you whimper out. It is so hard to think with all of this stimulation.

Eren places a possessive hand on your throat, the weight of it making you gasp. “Then I’ll fuckin’ find out when I’m done with you. I’ll pay the sun and moon for you, Princess.”

You figure at this point that there are no more secrets. No more roles. So you let your government name drip from your lips: “Y/N. That’s my name.” Geto smiles against your neck while Eren nuzzles the space behind your ear, his voice making you shiver. “Y/N,” he says. Your name sounds like sin on his lips.

Geto pulls away enough to acknowledge Eren for the first time in minutes. “So we’re sharing her?” Eren stares at him in boredom, stroking your throat with his thumb. “Yeah, unless you wanna watch. I don’t really give a fuck. My little dancer gets off on bein’ watched."

His hand trails down to your skirt where he toes with the ribbon holding it together at your hip. With one pull it slides off and he yanks it down your legs, revealing the surprise underneath: a G-string with a tiny pink bow on the front of your mound. The two men practically salivate at the sight.

Eren forces you to turn your face so he can plant more kisses on your lips, each one hotter and sloppier than the last. You can taste the vodka and lime on his tongue. “Eren,” you sigh. “The door—“

“Bodyguards,” Geto ruggedly answers, his hand caressing your thigh where it means your asscheek. “I had ‘em follow us. Nobody’s gettin’ in here, so don’t worry your pretty head about anything but this.” He busies himself with your breasts, pressing kisses along the tops of the soft globes. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this,” he whispers against your breasts. “I needed you for so long.”

You almost say ‘me too’. Their touches and kisses are making you delirious, ready to proclaim your love for two men you barely know. With each passing second, your pussy grows wetter, soaking the tiny cloth attached to the G-string. “Please," you whimper.

“Please what?” Eren asks. He squeezes your chin with his ringed hand, forcing you to look at him. “Open your mouth and ask us nicely.”

Geto grins at the rapper's choice of words. “Us, huh?” he chuckles. He then glides a hand down between your thighs, his fingers gliding against your G-string. “You want us to touch you here?" he whispers. Biting back a moan, you nod, your body quickly growing hotter than a wild fire. “Please….touch me.”

You glide a hand down your thighs to caress your thong-covered pussy, causing your puffy lips to swallow the thin line of fabric. The men groan at the sight, loving how your nails look against your soft, wet, plush pussy lips.

Geto kisses you a rough kiss on the cheek, pleased with your response. “Well, since you asked so nicely…”

In the blink of an eye, you are suddenly facing Geto between your legs while Eren is busy peeling your bra off, your back against his broad, hard chest. The smell of their cologne and marijuana drifts in the air, clouding your judgment even further.

Geto's eyes widen as he drags your thong to the aside, exposing your wet, soft cunt and the tiny diamond stud embedded in your clit. “So pretty,” he coos. "And a clit piercing?" He gently huffs his breath onto your clit and the bit of stimulation makes you twitch.

"Lemme see," Eren growls, craning his neck to see. "Fuck, that's so slutty, babe." Once he has your bra unclasped, your breasts and pierced nipples are exposed to their eyes. "My God!" he groans, cupping your tits in his hands. "How are you this fuckin' perfect, babe, huh?"

You thought you couldn't speak before? Words cease to exist when Geto finally gets his mouth on you. He uses his big hands to pin your legs apart as he laps at your cunt, sucking gently on your clit and rolling the diamond stud around with his wet tongue. His tongue piercing clashes with the one in your clit, causing sparks of pleasure to shoot through your core.

All you can muster are loud sobs and whines of pleasure as Geto laps and slurps at your pussy, each stroke of his tongue and suckle of his soft lips sending you into orbit. You can't stop your muscles from twitching and your thighs from clenching, desperate to be freed from Geto's iron grip on them. "Oooh, she’s a cryer,” he chuckles against your hole. “And a squirmer.”

His tongue then slithers into your hole, using the tip of his tongue to shallowly fuck you while his nose glides against your clit. Eren watches from behind you, his hands still groping your tits and tugging at your nipples. “She’s not gonna do shit when it’s my turn," he lightly growls. "Lemme show you how it’s done.”

The two men switch places, but Geto doesn't move from his spot between your thighs. He just watches as Eren absolutely goes feral on your pussy, causing spit and your juices to mix together and stain his chin and lips. All of it slips down your asscrack, making every nice and slippery. Slippery enough to fuck you with his tongue much faster. “O-Oh!” you gasp. “Oh, fuck, Eren!”

The rapper's grey eyes tick up to look at you, hypnotizing you the same way his mouth is. “Yeah?” he teases. “It’s good?”

You writhe on the couch, gripping the cushion below you for dear life. “Yes!” you sob. “Yes, Daddy, please keep going!” The honorific slips out as easy as a breath of fresh air, sounding so natural. Eren begins to lick you faster as if that title has changed him.

Geto side-eyes the rapper before he gives your ass a spank. “He gets an honorific?” he scoffs. “What about me, love? What do I get, huh?” He leans forward, pressing soothing kisses to the stinging spot where his hand collided with your asscheek.

You stare at him through teary eyes, your lashes wet with droplets. “S-Sir,” you whimper. "I'm sorry". Geto grins at you, flashing you all of his pearly whites. “Works for me. Now let's see if you can take two tongues at the same time."

Eren briefly pauses in his meal to glance at the CEO. You think he is about to tell Geto to fuck off, but to your surprise, he scoots over and allows Geto to share in feasting on your cunt. Each one has a firm hand pinned on your thigh, forcing you to stay open for them they lap at your wetness, pausing to spit copious amounts of saliva onto your lips and slurping it back up.

They take turns tongue-fucking you, alternating between one sticking his tongue inside of your wet hole while the other toys with your clit, rubbing the button around and around. You are a wailing, sobbing, screaming mess, writhing and squirming on the couch as if you're possessed. “Oh, God, wait! It’s too much!”

You feel like you're a balloon that has been pumped with too much air. You're about to pop. Geto stares up at you through hooded eyes and his lips drenched in your juices. “But you’re doin’ so well for us, love. You should see how cute you look.”

He reaches over, placing two fingers in your mouth. Greedily, you suck on his digits, coating them in your spit. Eren tears his tongue out of your hole to stare at you adoringly, allowing Geto to fill his spot. “She does look mighty good right now. Little slut.”

You have no doubt you look crazy, titties out, skirt peeled up to expose your ass and pussy, mascara askew and coating your eye sockets. But you don't care. You don't care about anything but cumming as that feeling begins to build in your core. “Oh, sh-sh-shit, I’m gonna cum!” you gasp to the ceiling.

“Mmm-hmm,” Geto hums into your pussy. “Cum for me, love. Give it to me.”

“Bitch,” Eren growls. “Cum for me, baby. You know you love this piercing, dontchu?”

You do, and deliriously, you think you love them too. They keep licking and slurping and sucking and moaning into your pussy until finally, you give a little tremble and your cum floods their mouths. The two men moan in appreciation at your taste, eagerly and happily lapping at what you give them.

Your orgasm is intense, making you shake and moan to the heavens, every word being "fuck" and "oh, shit" which God would not appreciate, probably. You could get used to being treated like this. Maybe a relationship with either of these two studs wouldn't be so terrible. 'Why just one?' a tiny voice in your head whispers. 'Why not both?'

When you come down from your orgasmic high, you look down at the two men, noticing their cocks chubbing against their pants. You giggle, delirious from the pleasure and drunk off of your orgasm. "I think you two might need some help," you purr.

The two pop up like Jack-In-The-Boxes, eager to get your mouth on them. The clothes come off, shirts, pants, and designer boxers discarded, revealing muscles laced and inked with tattoos. You momentarily think about grazing your hands over their abs, licking up their stomachs, and sucking each brown nipple, but all of that flies out the window when you get a look at their cocks.

Both are hard and standing up at attention for you, but while Eren is thicker and curves upward, Geto is longer and his balls hang heavy. You can do nothing but stare, your hands wrapping around each one. "Oh, wow," you sigh, unable to say anything else.

"Like you ain't seen it before," Eren chuckles, referring to the dick pics he has sent you over the course of your 'situationship'. Geto has only sent you two though his cock was covered by his sweats. To see it now here, in your face, is more than you can take.

"Now, you're just seein' it in person," Eren continues, gently tapping his thumb against your chin. "So you gonna do somethin' with it or what?" He doesn't need to tell you twice. Instantly, you open your mouth and wrap your glossy lips around his length.

"Ah, fuck, baby," he sighs, digging a hand in your hair. He lays his hand on your scalp, letting you work his cock up and down, his length stroking your throat. "That's a good girl. I fit so well in that mouth, fuck."

He tilts his head back to expose his throat and the head of his serpent tattoo snaking up the left side of his neck. You yearn to kiss and bite it. With your other hand, you stroke Geto to your heart's content, relishing in his low moans and encouraging swears that drip from his lips.

You can hardly believe that you're here, sucking your clients' dicks in VIP! You have never done anything like this before and probably never will again. These two are just special. With every stroke of Eren's cock in your sloppy throat and every moan that escapes Geto's plump lips, you can feel yourself needing them more and more.

Finally having enough of waiting, Geto yanks you away from Eren and plants your mouth on his dick this time. "My turn," he huffs and apologetically laughs in Eren's face. "Sorry, man, but I couldn't resist. Her mouth just looked too damn good."

He pushes himself deeper, sheathing himself between the plush, wet walls of your mouth. You gag a bit from his bulbous head nearly hitting the back of your throat, but you manage to recover and let him fuck away. "Good girl," he pants. "Sir loves that. He loves your little mouth."

You moan in reply to his dirty words of affirmation, spit dribbling from your lips and pooling between your shaky thighs. At this point, you are creaming, gushing all over yourself and ruining your thong. Eren groans at the feeling of your soft hand stroking him up and down, up and down. "Can't wait to fuck you, babe," he moans. "I know you'll feel just as good as your pretty hand."

Then he is yanking you away from Geto and back towards him. "Fuck offa her. You're takin' too damn long." Then it's back in your mouth he goes where he proceeds to fuck your mouth like it's going out of style. "Not bad, love," Geto sighs, watching in adoration as your mouth is filled with cock. "You suck dick almost as well as you dance."

With a loud groan that overpowers the muffled music from the club, Eren pulls his cock out of your mouth. A line of spit follows in his wake and you take a breath, the taste of salt on your tongue. Eren tilts your chin up to face him and Geto, exposing your fucked-out face to them.

"Are you ready for us to fuck you now, baby?" Eren cooingly asks, his thumb toying with your wet bottom lip. You press a kiss to it, suckling on the digit. "Tell Daddy how you want it," he demands. It takes every bit of energy in your brain cells to conjure up one single sentence. You can barely think straight.

"C'mon now, darling," Geto coos, tapping his cock against your lips. "Don't be shy. I can stand to wait a while." Finally finding your voice and your head, you turn to Eren with big, watery eyes and ruined makeup. "From behind," you whimper. "Fuck me from behind, Daddy."

Eren doesn't need to be told twice. He hikes you up on your jelly-like legs and puts you in position on the couch: face down, ass up. You feel him kneel behind you, his thick cock sliding between your slit to your asshole, up and down, emitting moans from the both of you.

"I'm gonna make you regret ever toyin' with me," he says through panted breaths. "Gonna make sure you know whose you are." And then, slowly, he slides himself inside of you, inch by inch. Your mouth falls open, a loud moan escaping you as you feel the wet walls of your cunt stretch around him.

"A-Ah!" you gasp. "Oh, fuck, Eren, please!" The rapper lays a hand on your ass, giving you a sharp spank that makes your clit jump and your pussy clench.

SMACK!

"See what's you've been missin', baby?" he chuckles. "All of this an' more."

He begins to slowly pump his hips back and forth, sheathing his cock inside of you more with every stroke. "Fuck me back, mama," he coos, his voice breathless and panty. "Show me how good you think this dick is, c'mon. Show me."

You do as you're told and toss your ass back into him, meeting his thrusts and drawing louder moans out of both of you that bounce off of the VIP room's walls.

SMACK!

Geto's big hand takes a turn slapping your ass as it bounces against Eren's pelvis as he sits on the couch beside you. He places your face in his lap and taps his cock against your lips. "Sorry, love, you just looked too sexy gettin' fucked like this," he sighs. "But you don't mind, do you?"

Even if you could respond, you would say no. You want them both to use you. To take every single hole you have and fill it up as much as they want. You want to be used for their pleasure in a way you have never wanted any other man to.

Eren begins to pump harder and faster, causing the couch springs to creak and his moans to grow louder and more desperate. "God, you're so wet," he groans, sweat trickling down his handsome face and gorgeous body. "I'm gonna cum soon, baby. This pussy got me so fuckin' close!"

"Well, would ya mind hurryin' it up?" Geto huffs. "I still need to fuck my little dancer too." Eren glares daggers at the CEO, each word punctuated by a pump of his hips that make your eyes roll back. "Don't. Rush. Me."

You can feel your second orgasm cresting, building inside of you, causing you to reach between your legs to frantically rub your clit. "Daddy," you whine. "I'm gonna cum. Please make me cum."

"You wanna cum for me?" Eren teases. You can hear the smile in his voice, knowing that he is enjoying every second of seeing you like this. "Then you're gonna be my baby, right? You're gonna let me take you out and have you all to myself, right?"

You don't respond. You can't. You're moaning too much and his cock is too good, pumping in and out of you at a fast pace that makes your head spin. When you suddenly feel Eren's thumb gliding against your asshole, it's all over for you. You explode all over his cock, nearly ruining your voice box with how loud you scream. "I'm cumming!" you sob, pressing your face into Geto's thigh.

"Go 'head, baby, cum for me!" Eren groans. "Fuck, I'm cummin' too!" He grips your ass for dear life as he chases his high in your pussy, giving you rougher thrusts until he finally shoots a hot, creamy load inside of your pussy. He lets out a loud, raspy groan as he cums, gripping your ass so tight that you're sure he has left bruises.

You shiver and shake in your position, your head blank and all of your senses heightened. Geto begins to stroke your hair, his hard cock pressed against your lips. "That's a good girl," he coos. "You look so good when you cum, darlin'. I'm gonna enjoy fucking you."

Oh, God...you forgot he was next.

But he doesn't let you forget. When Eren pulls out of you slowly, Geto shushes you when you weakly moan at the loss. "Relax, love," he coos, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "You don't have to do anything for me. Just let your Sir take care of you."

You don't think you quite have a choice, especially when he hikes you onto his lap. He kisses you as you lean into his body, his big arms holding you tight as his hard cock sinks inside of the quivering, sensitive, sobbing wet walls of your pussy. "Oh, goddamn," he groans, his handsome face etched in pleasure as soon as he sinks inside of you. "You're perfect."

You whine in response, arching your tits into his chest. You press yourself flush against him, your body going weak and slack from Eren's previous buckshots. Geto embraces this, keeping his arms wrapped securely around you as he draws his hips up to fuck you from the bottom. "Just lay against me, darlin'. Lemme do all the work."

You can't stop any sort of moan or whimper that escapes you, each one weak and desperate as your pussy is filled with Geto's cock. Your eyes flutter closed at the feeling, all of your energy drained from being fucked dumb twice.

Suddenly, you feel two hands cupping your face and the scent of ocean waves in your nose. "Open your eyes, mama," Eren coos. "Lemme see you." Weakly, you open your eyes, staring at grey irises through slits. "Feels good, don't it?" he asks. "Does he feel better than me?"

Geto laughs through a moan, his thighs smacking against your ass as he drills himself inside of you, bouncing you on his cock. "You don't have to answer him, but I'd like to know if I'm gettin' that date after this. You know I expect it."

You can't think of anything remotely close to the end of tonight in this position. The pleasure is too blinding and your mind is going blank. But your clients won't take no for an answer. "You're gonna be mine by the end of tonight, right, darlin'?" Geto growls in your ear. "You'll finally let me take you out on a proper date?"

"Nah, fuck that," Eren hisses, still cupping your face and staring into your eyes. "You're all for me, right, baby? You're not gonna play with my feelings like this, right?"

"Tell us what you want, Y/N," Geto demands, slowing his thrusts down to deep, soul-bending strokes that make you sing. "Tell us who you want."

"I-I want!" You grip Geto for dear life, sinking your nails into his shoulders as his cock strokes every part of your pussy. The words that explode from you fly up after being trapped for so long inside of you: "Both! I want both of you!" you sob.

Eren blinks at you, shocked, and takes a look at Geto. He has slowed his thrusts down into more shallow, gentler ones, just as taken aback at your confession. There it is. All out in the open. And instead of arguing or disagreeing, the two men smile at each other.

"Both it is then," Eren says, pecking you on the lips. "Now cum on that dick like a good girl. Make her sing, Geto."

The CEO goes right back to bouncing you restlessly on his cock, making your tits jiggle and your pussy feel like it's about to fall off the bone as your clit rubs against his pelvis. His callused hands grip your ass, giving you brief smacks and possessive grabs that edge you closer and closer to the cliff.

"Sugu, fuck!" you gasp. "I'm gonna...gonna-"

"Do it, darlin'," he demands. "Cum with me. Give it all to your Sir."

And like a puppet on a string, you are controlled by him and his cock. After a few more rough thrusts, you shut your eyes against Eren's face and cum all over Geto's cock, your third orgasm rocking you to the core. Everything feels like a hot, white light washing you in warmth as each wave of your orgasm sweeps you away.

"Ah, fuck!" Geto groans, his end near too. He pauses and his body tenses as he cums, rope after rope of hot spunk entering your pussy. You gasp and shudder, held onto by him and Eren who continues to grasp your face, watching your O face is adoration. "That's a good girl," he laughs. "You did so good for us, babe."

You can only whimper in reply. Exhaustion comes to you, making your body heavier and your muscles loose. Geto groans as he slides his cock out of you, his and Eren's cum leaking down your thighs. "Easy now," he coos, stroking your back. "Just take it slow, love."

He lays you down on the couch between himself and Eren, your head lulling against the couch. You feel sweat coat the skin beneath your tits and your inner thighs feel soaked. The only thing you wear are your stockings and heels, your skirt, bra, and thong on the floor.

You know that eventually you'll have to go back to finish your shift. You know that people, including Yuki and your boss, will ask about these two men that seem to be mighty close to you now. You know that things will probably become a lot more complicated.

But you also find yourself not caring. Not when the two men snuggle up close to you, pressing you tightly and securely between them. It is better than any dollar bill they could give you. Silence descends upon you, calm and satisfied.

"So," you finally say, a smile on your face, "when's our date?"

THE END.

[sodayunz]

The NXT and Glow filming in the countryside, really suppress Jiyeon's libido.

On the first night after the filming was done, everyone went to sleep. Jiyeon sneaks out the house to have a masturbating session.

She arrived at the garden, making sure every area is clear and the camera doesn't have blinking lights on it. Then she quickly discards her pants around her ankle, squats behind the crops bushes and inserts her ring and middle finger

"ah- hmm yeah that's it" she moans, happy finally she can touch herself. Not forgetting her other hand teasing her clitoris and it makes her moan a lil bit louder than she predicted.

"who's ther-" you, the sound director, stumbled upon Jiyeon's pleasuring session.

"Sound director-nim... I-It's no-not what it looks like" she rises up, her body tensed. her fingers are slicks and reflecting moonlights covering her crotch, a lil bit hairy but suit your preference.

"you know from all the girls, I always thought you were the innocent one, turns out I'm wrong. You're a bad bad horny slut who needs a dick inside that hungry drooling tight pussy right?" You said while you approaches her.

You grab Jiyeon's hand, her pussy is perfectly shown to you now. Your other hand hover then caresses her pubic and finds her clit.

"Is this better, Jiyeon?"

"mmm yes director-nim, touch me more"

"I'll take you to a better place"

You bring Jiyeon into your temporary place, where it's more secluded, but filled with recordings props.

Then you both undressed, Jiyeon can't contain it anymore pouncing at you.

"Your fucking cock is the biggest I've seen and it will fuck me hard in many ways you like director Nim. Make me can't walk tomorrow" she says, then she went closer to your ears

"doggy, missionary, nelson, piledriver, you name it. Stretch my tight little asshole with your big dick also"

"Mmm fuck you naughty slut jiyeon, can't contain your horniness any longer" You say as you put your hands around her slim and slender waist, "I can't wait anymore director-nim I need your big cock in me now!".

Not wanting to keep the horny girl waiting any longer you buried your cock right into her tight little pussy, "Fuuck... yesss!.. director-nim" her tight slick walls swallowing your cock as you keep thrusting into. "Ah god jiyeon you're such a tight slut aren't you" You say as you spank her tight ass.

You tell her to get off and go on all fours she obediently follows your orders, you get behind her squeeze and spreading her cheeks. You spit on your fingers and rubbed it around the rim of her asshole.

With her hole lubed, you begin to pentrate her ass slowly, pushing just the tip first so she can adjust to the size before ram your length all the way inside her, "ahh, I'm ready keep going manager-nim" once she gave you the okay to keep going you thrust deeper into her, now your entire length is buried inside her ass.

You begin pounding her silly, you couldn't help but to moan from how much tighter her ass is compared to her pussy. You keep pounding into her over and over again, stretching her tight ass, jiyeon mind completely gone and can't form any sentences all she could do is just moan as you destroy her ass. You felt yourself getting close. "Fuuck!... ahh jiyeon-ya, I'm getting close,"

"Ughh fuck yes manager-nim cum inside my ass I need it!!" You could hear the desperation in her voice, so with last of your strength you give her one last thrust and emptied your balls straight into her ass. You stay inside her ass until your cock goes soft and pull out seeing the mess you made, her ass gaped and filled to the brim with cum.

[happyfoxx-art]

YOURE SPOILED? NO. ME. IM SPOILED. IM SPOILED ROTTEN. YOU!!!! Y OU!!!!!!!!!

im stuffing every thing you draw me into my pockets and keeping them like treasures. im living.

look at Manic. look at how stupid he is.

Farrell had been certain that after 17 years of being a parent, nothing could best him. He'd seen it all. He'd been barfed on too many times to count. He'd helped his kid pierce his ears with safety pins and a candle. He'd learned how to navigate hedgehog quills and help his kid style them how he liked.

Yes, he'd even dealt with quilling. It happened every few months, but it was just a little annoying. It wasn't a big deal.

It wasn't Manic appearing at his bedside at 6 AM with a fistful of quills and genuine fear on his face. Farrell stared blearily at his teenager, his teenager who was practically nocturnal and the clock that was blinking the cursed hour. "Wh... whassat?"

"I told you, my quills are falling out." Manic repeated.

Farrell yawned, dropping his head back on his pillow. "Quilling, kid. We've been over this plenty of times--"

"No, like. All of them, Dad," Manic interrupted, dropping the handful of green spikes he was holding on the bedside table and raking his fingers through his quills. Alarmingly, yes, he came away with a brand new clump of quills in each hand and the look in his eyes got wilder.

The stress was beginning to radiate off of Manic, and Farrell knew it wouldn't be long before his kid gave himself and him a stomach ache. So he groaned and started to sit up, rubbing his chin. "Alright, yeah, that's... weird," he admitted, swinging his legs off the side of the bed and getting up. "Let me call your doctor."

Manic nodded earnestly, following on Farrell's heels as he shuffled across the room and grabbed the phone that was good for calling Margo. He more felt than saw Manic hovering in his shadow as he dialed her up, praying she was already awake and that he wasn't disturbing the weasel at this hour.

She answered after the second ring and didn't immediately threaten Farrell, so she must have already been awake. "What's going on?"

Farrell heaved a sigh. "Manic's dropping like, an obscene amount of quills," he began. "Is that... alright? He's okay?"

There was a long pause. Then Margo started cackling. "Awwww! Baby green bean's all grown up!" she sang, and he could hear her moving around in whatever room she was in. "Hey hold still, I'm not done with those stitches-- That's normal, you dummies. Next time you grab a kid off the street, do us all a favor and read a book on the species, yeah?"

Farrell pinched the bridge of his nose. "So, normal?? Care to elaborate?"

"He's just quilling," Margo said. "It's the big drop, though. He'll lose 'em all over the next few days and grow in his adult set. Perfectly normal hedgehog thing. Maybe pick up some oatmeal bath, some benedryl. He's gonna be miserable."

"What?"

"Whatever experience you've had with quilling before, multiply it," Margo said. "Buckle up, big daddy, it's practically your last big parenting thing. If you want it to be. Anyways, I gotta go, I got a guy bleeding all over my table."

Farrell didn't get the chance to ask anything more before she hung up. He lowered the phone and turned to his cranky, mildly feral looking child, who was lurking behind him and scratching at his scalp with his claws. This resulted in a gentle shower of quills dropping to the carpet.

Farrell swallowed. "So that's normal," he began. "And uh... they're all gonna fall off before you get your new ones in."

Manic froze, his magenta eyes going wide. Slowly, his gaze moved up to meet Farrell's eyes.

"What?"

“Don't let him bite your head off, alright? He got me when I made him take a bath..” Farrell warned, knocking on the door.

“Farrell told me you bit him the first time he made you take a bath,” she (Amy) said flatly.  Manic's face reddened guiltily. “He's dramatic,” he said immediately,

https://archiveofourown.org/works/64811068/chapters/166556407

________________________

IIIIIIIII am SPOILED ROTTEN and Happ gave me a wip of her first chapter a bit ago, and we ended up chatting about how much of a disaster menace quilling Manic would be. These were drawn awhile ago, I am not that fast, I was just waiting for her to post the chapter because I refuse to spoil o^o

(If you're wondering what quilling is, check here)

Poor boy is an uncomfy emotional wreck, but his dad is a champ

[irregularcollapse]

seven sentences sunday

I just got tagged by @knoepfchen and last week I was uno reversed by @soliloquy-dawn, and I did write today! So the timing is perfect.

Today I wrote tenny. I've been noodling with this chapter for ages, and it's close to being finished! It's a chapter/sequence of events that I've had in my head since I first had the idea for the fic overall, and truthfully I've been a bit nervy about writing it. But it's happening! And I got the hardest moment out of the way today (in a first draft capacity).

Seven sentences of a tennis match:

Hearing Lee yell “C’mon” above the groaning of the crowd isn’t because he’s louder than anyone else’s disappointment; it’s because it’s a sound that Gale is hearing inside his own head anyway. The aim had been correct, according to Gale’s eyes, but his body is lurching into serves with limbs dragged through pulpy juice—or something even more viscous, hotter, like the air weighing down his lungs. Weather forecast didn’t say anything about heat, but Gale may as well be breathing in the sun and seawater. Both serves (both faults), he looked down the court—desert stretch of orange—and Lemmons was made of soft rubber, but Gale could see the lines. The ball is the problem, not going where he sends it. His body is moving too slow, is the problem, and there’s a knife behind his eye, poking through the cotton wool filling his skull. The ringing in his ears is the problem, the dizziness.

But Dawn actually specifically requested something from my cyberpunk AU (definite WIP), and I'm always keen as a bean to share, so:

Bucky drags the rig off his head. He’s still laid flat on top of his duvet, naked with only the bedside lamp on and his cock curved up and begging. He didn’t come, forgot to touch himself; should’ve put his hand on his dick before he started the deck. There’s a bit of a tremble around his insides, ghost of an orgasm which wasn’t his own. The whole thing was over too quick, and Bucky’s molars are grinding again already. He stretches for the lube on the nightstand, puts a perfunctory squirt in his palm, and fists his cock with his eyes clenched shut. His brain reassembles Gale’s face, the carve and the sweet of him.

Romantic! lol

Seven tags for seven sentences: @blixabargelds @shipstorms @weimarweekly @constanthaunt @eleanorfenyx @pleasuretrade @soliloquy-dawn reverse on your uno reverse mate <3

[digiflora]

SUMMER LOVIN' ◟⊹ 𖧧. ָ࣪ ◝. EPISODE⁰³

Ꮺ prev. masterlist. next. Ꮺ

TONIGHT ON LOVE ISLAND ...

the cheeky greeting uttered mere moments ago still rings in your ears, and you're almost hesitant to swivel your head to see the face that comes with the voice.

hu tao's beaten you to it, her excited gasp which she makes no effort to conceal giving you that little last push of equal parts courage and curiosity to turn around and look at the newcomers.

it's two men, one tall and ginger, the other somewhat shorter with some pale blond hair pulled back into a half updo which looks rather nice, you must admit. they couldn't be more opposite of each other- the taller one practically swaggering his way towards you and the rest of the islanders, taking his sweet time all with a million dollar smile plastered across his face. you'd bet your bottom dollar that it was him who called out that greeting.

the other guy trailed slightly behind, not necessarily shy, but certainly paling in comparison to the other bombshell.

the ginger comes to a stop at the edge of the sofa, right by where you're sat, sandwiched between hu tao and alhaitham. the latter had his arm haphazardly thrown across the back of where you were sat, though you can't help but notice the almost imperceptible twitch of it against the back of your head as alhaitham's gaze scours over the newcomer.

he's dressed to impress, in a deep red buttondown that fits him just right, slightly unbuttoned at the collar and rolled up at the sleeves. even with the man sat next to you, you'd have no trouble admitting that this bombshell is hot.

he's got steely blue eyes too, ones that briefly shine with mirth as he meets your gaze, then hu tao's.

"y'alright, darlings?"

oh, it was definitely him who called out that greeting.

"my name's childe, i'm sure you won't be forgetting it any time soon." a flirty wink from him that somehow manages to direct itself to both you and hu tao- it's impressive. and it's working, which is arguably an even more impressive feat.

you can feel yourself flustering under his gaze, and from the brief glint in his eyes he can tell, but he decides to take pity and start introducing himself to the other islanders.

"nice to meet you, mate." he extends a hand to alhaitham, one which is gingerly accepted and very gruffly shaken.

"likewise."

the other bombshell also pipes up, a more timid smile on his face.

"i'm albedo, it's nice to meet you too." you give him a quick smile and a wave. he seems nice enough, but he was very much a different type of person to childe- one which didn't have you feeling suddenly hyperaware of your appearance and sitting up that much straighter.

they make their way through the islanders, saying their greetings. no words need to be exchanged between the girls, a quick exchange of glances and rosaria's daringly mouthing "oh my god" as childe hugs her bringing everyone to a unanimous verdict that this bombshell is hot.

interestingly, ganyu seems to go pink when albedo introduces himself to her- a fact that doesn't go unnoticed by ayato, as he swiftly tries to put an arm around ganyu, that she expertly removes.

they eventually settle down, squeezing onto the curved sofa aroubd the firepit, and the laidback interrogation begins.

"so," jean starts, a slight slur to her voice. she had mentioned offhandedly how she was an absolute lightweight, but with the minimal drinks that were handed out tonight, this was a whole new level.

"which one of you's chemistry and which one of you's men at work?" it takes you a second, but you realise that she's talking about those hashtags that were in the text sent to hu tao's phone earlier. you can't help but giggle into your drink a little at the question, though it seems to be taken in stride.

"i'm a biochemist, if that's what you're asking?" albedo says uncertainly.

"and i work in construction, so i guess i'm the man at work." childe's voice alone makes it sound like an innuendo, let alone his more than knowing smirk.

jean's question seemed to get the ball rolling, the new arrivals quickly settling in.

and just when things started to feel alright, albedo's phone buzzed. he scrunched his brows at it as if he couldn't quite believe it made the noise, before gingerly reading out the text.

you were pretty sure that all the islanders were half expecting a text like that to make itself known tonight too, though its impact doesn't seem to lessen with that in mind. looking around, it was clear that the first power shift, so to speak, had been felt in all the male islanders. even the ever-so-cocky ayato had an imperceptibly smaller smirk on his face, the fleeting glance he sends to albedo as he downs the rest of his drink giving his true feelings away. even the stoic alhaitham next to you seemed slightly more on edge, if the less than 24 hours that you had spent with him were anything to go off of.

the carefree nature of the party not even an hour ago was hard to be found now, and with the all clear from production, it was only the natural next move to call it a night.

it was a mild surprise to see that names had been assigned to the beds- you're surprised to see your name next to alhaitham's in a bright cursive font on one headboard, with the same for each of the other couples. much to your amusement, the same had been done for childe and albedo, designating them to share for this first night at the villa.

you find yourself naturally straying over to the dressing room with the rest of the girls, all of you collectively getting unready before turning in for the night.

hu tao and jean were quick to turn in, barely getting the makeup off of their face and their pyjamas on before diving into bed. ganyu is next, already yawning and hair up in a bun, a dreamy little "goodnight" escaping her lips before she glides back to the bedroom.

rosaria isn't quite as tired, taking the time to do her skincare routine thoroughly before turning in, leaving you with a little wave.

you're almost done yourself, except for one last thing

it was such a trivial matter, though you found that those were the matters that you spent the most time deliberating over. and deciding what to wear on your first night was about as trivial as it got.

on one hand, you could go the sexy route- you had some silky matching sets with a tasteful amount of cleavage to show. or you could play it safe with the comfier (but still arguably cute) route of sleep shorts and a t-shirt. you're staring at the options in your suitcase so hard that you can feel your eyebrows beginning to crease, before you startle at the door to the changing room swinging open suddenly, and rosaria flashing you a quick smile.

"forgot my water bottle." she snags the thing up, eyes casting over your hunched figure and your suitcase in front of you.

she's quick to figure out your earth-shattering dilemma, chuckling to herself lightly.

"i say wear the sexy ones, and get your little nerd all hot and bothered so he'll be crazy about you." that's enough convincing for you, and you quickly finish getting ready for bed.

by the time you make it back to the shared bedroom, the lights are off, and everyone seems to be making some attempt to sleep. it's a slightly annoying fact, considering that a) the whole point of wearing the sexy pyjamas was for alhaitham to see them, not use his imagination, and b) you're going to have to navigate your way into bed in the dark.

you're vaguely aware of where your bed is, on the far side of the room someplace in the middle, and you wander in that general direction as quietly as possible.

your eyes are still adjusting to the dimly lit room, nondescript lumps of bodies under the covers being all that you can really use to tell whether you've reached your destination or not.

you think that you're there, feet shuffling across the cool tile floor as you make your way to the edge of the bed. your eyes strain, not sure if they're playing tricks on you or if you can really hear the slightest noise of giggles under the covers. you shudder briefly, someone clearly having a better time than you are.

you try cast your mind back to earlier- back when you had the aid of light to be able to tell which bed was yours- was it the second from the left? or the third? you try to be as surreptitious in your investigation as possible, not wanting anyone to see you shuffling around the beds and squinting at the people in them.

you hear the rustle of sheets, then see the vague silhouette of someone sitting up, eyes still not adjusted enough to have a clue of who it was. nevertheless, you freeze like you've been caught doing something wrong, stuck in some odd standoff with this person.

"...y/n?" even as a whisper, you recognise alhaitham's rather distinct voice.

"....yeah." it's a sheepish admission, and there's another pause before the sheets ruffle again, and you hear the vague sound of alhaitham patting the space next to him.

"the bed's here." the auditory cue helps more than you expected, and you decide to take the less graceful route of crawling into bed from the foot of it, not wanting to risk tripping on anything by walking round to the side.

as careful as you are, you aren't devoid of any further embarrassments, as your hand lands itself somewhere on what you would guess was his arm on your way to your pillow.

"sorry." you're as quick to retract your hand as you were to place it down, and save for the slightest of exhales when you did it, alhaitham made no sign that he had felt it at all.

"it's fine." as soon as your fingertips graze the pillowcase, you're quick to assume a semi-comfortable sleeping position, curled on your side with your back to alhaitham, too mortified to face him. you can vaguely sense him lying there, something in your gut telling you that he wasn't trying to sleep.

you're not sure how to break the silence, though. for starters, anyone else in the room could potentially hear you, and rolling over and asking are you awake felt like setting yourself up for public ridicule.

the seconds feel like hours as you lie there, tense and very much awake. the room is surprisingly cold, partially from the aircon which you're sure you'll appreciate a lot more in the day, and partially because of what little coverage your skimpy pyjamas had to offer. damn you, rosaria.

to your surprise, you don't have to break the silence, instead hearing the slight shuffle of alhaitham, before he whispers again.

"...did you forget where the bed was?" it didn't sound like a question of judgement, rather one of disbelief. either way, it doesn't help your embarrassment.

"um, yeah... i did." another beat of silence.

you're almost scared that he'll leave you hanging like that, but then you hear another little exhale from him that sounded very much like a snort.

"you know you can just call out next time instead of fumbling your way through the dark."

"oh, yeah. sorry."

another pause, and you're not sure if it's that same disbelief or if he's thinking very hard about what to say.

"you don't have to apologise, i was just suggesting an alternative."

"oh, sorry."

that garners another snort from him, and you can't help but laugh into the pillow too at how absurdly this conversation was going. decidedly braver now that your eyes have adjusted and that you've managed to laugh your nerves away, you slowly roll over to face alhaitham.

you're a bit closer to him than you expected to end up, though it's still a far enough distance that you're not immediately regretting your decision.

you can make out the planes of his face, just about, the slightest reflection of his eyes as he looks at you with a mild curiosity and something akin to mirth.

"hi." you smile at him sheepishly. a fresh start to that awkward conversation.

"hi." he echoes your greeting, the slightest smile tugging at his lips. even in the minimal lighting, you do your best to remember the sight.

"so, um, are you a blanket hog?" your brain was definitely just spitballing at this point. it seems to be working, though, as the easy smile on alhaitham's face didn't let up, and he shook his head.

"i'm not. do you sleep on top of the covers the whole night?" you had been too shy to even properly get into bed, merely assuming the foetal position as soon as your head hit the pillow.

"i don't, no." it's an awkward dance of arms and legs to get the cover out from underneath you and then getting underneath it, but you manage it without any further snorts from alhaitham, much to your relief.

it's still a bit chilly under the sheets, enough to make you shiver, and you rub your legs together to speed up the warmth generation process.

"are you cold?" curse alhaitham's astuteness. it's a hesitant nod, one that alhaitham sees anyway in the dim light of the room. there's another almighty pause from him, and now that you can see his expression you're sure that it's because he's thinking very hard about what to say next.

"we could... um.. cuddle, if you like?" he says it all quiet like it's a dirty word, and you think you've now been made privy to the shyer parts of him. your stunned silence must have been read as a rejection, as alhaitham's regular expression of a furrowed brow and rather discontent face returns, and he begins to move away from facing you and onto a more conservative position of lying on his back.

"forget i said anything, never mi-"

"-wait." your hand latches onto his arm under the covers, a move that you weren't anticipating to do. it takes you both by surprise, if the way his bicep tenses against your fingers is anything to go by. you try to swallow around your suddenly dry throat, still whispering out to him in the dark.

" that ... would be nice."

there's a few beats of silence, the both of you processing what you just said. of what's to come. it's a rather wordless progression, alhaitham coming back to face you. you shuffling your hips closer to him, meeting in the middle of the bed. there's still a respectable amount of space between the two of you, this careful dance of not wanting to come across as too eager being choreographed by the two of you.

there's a gentle hand at your waist, the lightest of pressures reminiscent on when you were first coupled up. you had melted into his touch then, and you do the same now, letting yourself shuffle just a touch closer. his hand resting across your waist is still the only real point of contact between you, but you could practically feel the warmth radiating from his body, a delightful realisation that had you wanting to close the gap so very badly.

"is that better?" you could swear that the roles were reversed now, what with alhaitham sounding so tentative. you smile to yourself, deciding to crack first and get what you really wanted, dance be damned.

you let your hand drift down to the one on your waist, fingers wrapping around his and guiding it to rest more naturally on your back, effectively embracing you now. alhaitham follows your directions without any complaints, even shuffling himself forward to accommodate for it. with the home stretch in sight, you let your own arm now wrap around him, pausing for the briefest of moments when your fingers meet bare skin rather than a tshirt.

perhaps your eyes hadn't completely adjusted, after all.

nevertheless, you take it in stride, enbracing alhaitham properly as well, letting yourself finally melt against his warmth with a content sigh.

even with your pyjamas on, there was still a decent amount of skin to skin contact- enough for this to feel delightfully intimate. you're close enough again to be able to smell alhaitham properly, the pleasant scent of him one that you were still trying to put your finger on. something woody, slightly earthy. but also sweet. the thought makes you smile as you finally shut your eyes, your lashes fluttering somewhere near alhaitham's collarbone. you feel him shiver in response, the slightest of twitches of his back muscles against your fingertips, and you file that tidbit of information away somewhere in your head.

alhaitham seems to be curious about you, too. he keeps his hands where you placed them, remaining respectfully north of your ass, though you feel his thumb skim under the hem of your pyjama top. at least they were serving you well now. you feel his thumb and forefinger experimentally rub the fabric of your top before he hums lightly, then returns to his original spot against your back, his thumb now rubbing small circles into you.

the sensation, the tiredness of the day setting in, and his very comforting warmth are all more than enough for you to feel your eyelids begin to droop.

"much better."

gia's notes ㌐ ₀₃ reader who gets less shy during the interaction x alhaitham who gets more shy YESSIRRRRRR 🫠🫠🫠. sorry that this chap took so long last term finished me OFF and i had to take a breather

taglist ㌐ ₀₃ (let me know if you would like to be added!) @arraxthatsonjah @nebsisdead @voasprofile @bunnychiffon @dainsleif-when-playable @meigalaxy @0lives10 @klancification

[the-acid-pear]

I'm having one of my iconic calming down and coming down from what felt like a trance to realize where I'm at. So sorry if I've been out of it here on Tumblr dot com I've been busy hallucinating and dissociating and being overall anxious. But I'm kind of coming out of it.