#Its been three days non stop I'm on it

[skylendra]

One Piece Spoiler 1138

Disclamer: Most of those ideas aren't mine. I couldn't credit everyone, as I just consumed too much content/analysis to be able to trace them down. I collected some suggestions here and there and tried to assemble everything in a nice and tight way.

This is a long ass analysis/theory. Like really long. Just so you know. I tried to be exhaustive.

For the translation, I based myself on manga plus', which I think is the closest we can have from the official one for now.

First: The Hayley.

There are three worlds.

The first one, with the "earth god" ended with the creation of red line. The fandom strongly thinks that the redline is artificial. The main hypothesis is that Zunesha pull some land together (its sin?). The main evidence is Laboon who hit its head against grand line, like it shouldn't be there (we know that the continental drift leads the same comportement from marine animals, like the fact that they don't go too far from australia). And so "They [The seas] will never meet"

The second one, with the "sea god", resulted with the creation of grand line. Same "They [the seas] will never meet "

The third one, the current one, will probably lead to the destruction of this limits. "And they [the seas] will surely meet." Resulting in all blue, Sanji's dream that he must achieve before the end of the manga. The legend of all blue came from the first world, when every sea was united.

Hypothesis

From the get-go: I don't think it is the mural is a prophecy. I have two main reason to think that:

It will go against the overall theme of one piece, with dream and freedom, if the future is already known/set in stone (here in tree's bark). Because that's mean you can't be free to change it.

Vegapunk wouldn't have said "The fate of this world will be decided by whoever finds it [the one piece]" in ch 1121. Since that would mean we already know the fate of this world. Indeed, in ch 1134, it is stated that Vegapunk (using a clone) visited Elbaf 20 years ago. He must have seen the mural.

So for me the mural is about the void century. It should be read from right to left (like a manga at the end of the day).

But, while it is not a depiction of the present, history is bound to repeat itself. Especially since now the character outgrow the idea of a person, in people's mind, and are an idea. Something that never dies.

So the third world was prophecied, because it is something that will happened. In the same way that the doom of capitalism is bound to happen. We don't know when or how, but it will happen. To be replace by something (worse, or better, we don't know).

There is also the question of timing, with Gol D. Roger. We don't know if they went to Elbaf, most probably. But the "too soon" may be because of the fact that there was no mother flame, and so no way to activate Uranus, and no way to destroy Red Line. That Shirahoshi (Poseidon) is not here yet. That there was no embodiement of hope, the sun god, Nika. Or simply that the world is not ready, which is sometimes the case for revolution, sometimes people are not ready to assert their rights.

I will try to be as clear as I can. I also want to go back to this post when One piece is finished to compare how far from the truth we were!

Then: The mural.

For me, it's neither really the second world, the void century. Because we know that the "children's drawings from an ancient past" is from the void century. That, I (and really some people, the idea is not mine) think started with the end of the first world and ended with the second world.

The right panel will be the beginning of the great war and the left one, near the end (as we know that those drawing where created during the void century, the great war had yet to end. The issue (the loss of Joy Boy) was not known at the time.)

Also. There are four gods mentioned ("sun" (twice), "earth", "forest" and "sea"). Since there is only three monsters (?), I will assume that the gods are not in the mural. And that they don't physically exist. They are more of a belief (like Nika I think).

So from right to left

The right panel of the mural

Great Kingdom

At the bottom right, seemingly sinking, is the great kingdom. We have tall buildings and gears. The smoke could come from the factories, or show the destruction of the kingdom.

Slaves (and discussion about it)

In it, we can see two people on a boat (in pink). For me, they are the slave praying the sun god, as their home is being destroyed. Indeed, after the beginning of the war, the twenty first most likely made some people from the GK slaves. As we know the Donquixote family, prior to go to Mary Geoise, forced the dwarf of the Tontatta kingdom to some sort of slavery (depends on the traduction, ch 726). So it wasn't something unknown for them. Plus, taking the people of the loosing country and use them as slave is something unfortunately common.

The Great Kingdom could also enslave people. We idealize them I think. But maybe they subjugate the world, and the twenty countries. And that it was a rebellion from the twenty first that lead to the great war. A rebellion that was rotten quickly, explaining why Lili switched and Joy Boy fought them.

The other people (in blue) are, for me, the twenty first. With Imu at the left. We know that they were at war with the Great Kingdom (for unknown reason) and they are indeed twenty here.

I know that most people picture them as being the slave who pray the Sun god (what could be the strange stars, here in yellow). I don’t agree. I will weigh the pros and cons:

Pros: They seem to work, similar to assembly line workers in factories, a form of modern slavery. They have this halo above their head, like they are dead or some form of sacrifice and going down, or be resurrected and going up.

Cons: They are 19. Which would be a striking coincidence since there is also Imu (therefore 20). And they are not in the Great Kingdom, contrarily to the two people with their head down and their arms outstretched (which could be a prayer). Also, as I said, the 19 could just be under the yoke of the Great Kingdom without being slaves themselves. A bit like how there were slaves in the Thirteen Colonies (here the dwarf from Tontatta), and that they should send almost all the profits to the Crown, leading to the American Revolution. And the halo could show that they are (were) good.

Ancient Weapons

Uranus

And so the stars (in yellow) aren’t neither a representation of the Sun god or the devil fruits, but Uranus.

To be completely honest, I have a doubt on Uranus being either the stars or the lighting from the floating boat. But I prefer the idea of the stars being Uranus because:

Lighting is Uranus: In dark blue, we can see a boat spewing thunderbolt. The boat is most likely Pluton. The fact that two antique weapons work together is strange. And will means that Uranus wasn’t what was used to destroy Lulusia Kingdom (ch 1086 and 1116).

Stars are Uranus: We know that Pluton is under the Mont Fuji, in Wano, ch 1055. It seems reasonable that it laid here for 800 years. Indeed, the secret is passed down to generation in the Kozuki family, and we know that Wano was on the side of Joy Boy during the war (because of the poneglyph). Poseidon was also with Joy Boy, with the failed promise. It seems unreasonable for Joy Boy to lose if he had the three antique weapons. Plus, Lulusia Kingdom was probably destroyed by an ancient weapon powered by the mother flame, as I said. Currently the world government has it, and most likely has it since the great war but is inactive with nothing to power it. So, the nineteen first took the ancient energy (discovered in ch 1068, the energy that allowed Emet to move) from the Great Kingdom and used it to power Uranus and launching the ancient weapon, destroying their enemies, causing parts of the Great Kingdom to sink.

Lighting or stars: both seems to come from the sky (personification of the sky in roman mythology and with Lulusia ch 1060).

Stars are Uranus: Here its more meta and inspiration rather than textbook. We can see that the containment unit of the Mother Flame (ch 1114) bears the code A&Mu (Atom). Vegapunk was inspired by Albert Einstein. Einstein famously wrote to Roosevelt the need for the Atomic Bomb. His (and his team, including his wife) work will allow a better understanding of the relationship between mass and energy, and therefore the nuclear reaction. Oppenheimer (and others) will use this work to bring the atomic bomb in the world. Oppenheimer who was compared to Prometheus (the titan that brings fire/technology to human and was punished by Zeus, with an eagle eating his liver every day) and Icarus (the guy that escaped with his father Daedalus from the labyrinth with wings made of beeswax and flew too close to the sun). The “forbidden sun” is mentioned in the first world, as Vegapunk saying he “flew too close to the sun” (ch 1114). So Uranus is most likely a metaphor for nuclear weapons. This could be depicted as myriad of stars, twirling in the sky before falling on its target. Also, both Einstein and Vegapunk regretted enabling the atomic bomb (or at least the "ancient weapons" used for VP ch 1116, which really, could only be Uranus, even if it isn't the stars)

Devil fruits: there are a wish, here probably formulate by the slaves and brought upon by the tree (“the forest god tamed demon” here it’s only the beginning of the void century, the tree is not here yet)

Pluton

Pluton (in blue) seems to attack Imu at first. But when we look closely, it attacks the tree. We can see in the corner roots on fire. Most likely that prayers done by the slave (in the right) was answered by the “forest god” the tree. After all, the devil fruits are brought into existence by human hope and desire (ch 1069). In the same chapter, Vegapunk says that there is no Gomu Gomu no Mi, as it is not mention in the old Devil Fruit Encyclopedia. Since the world government changed its name in the newer Devil Fruit Encyclopedia, in an attempt to hide it. Vegapunk reaction make me think that new natural fruits can not be created. So that the source of the fruits, its tree, is destroyed. Another possibility would be that people only ever desire the same thing or stop desiring things altogether. Or that the people capable of awaking the desire are mostly dead.

I don’t know why Pluton seems to be the one to destroy it though. Devil fruits seems to be the incarnation of freedom, and so something that Joy Boy supposedly fought for. And Wano, ally to Joy Boy, is in possession of Pluton. So maybe it really aimed at Imu but they dodged it and it landed on the tree.

Or it could be that Pluton wasn’t always on the side of Wano. And that the first twenty won because they had two ancient weapons. Plus, Pluton seems between the two monsters fighting. Most probably because there is so much in so little space but could also mean that the ownership of this vessel was disputed.

The two monsters fighting

The serpent of hellfire and the outraged of the Earth god are only a metaphor. When Uranus destroyed part of the Great Kingdom, the land broke, causing some part to sink. Lava spurt, like serpent of fire, coming from the heart of the earth, the hell.

The one I am less certain is the monster fighting against the serpent of hell fire. It seems to spew fire. It could be “the sun spread the fires of war”. But here, it’s not the god sun, simply the sun.

The demon being the will of D.: We know that the clan of D. is considered as the “natural enemy of gods [the celestial dragon]” ch 764. It is said that the “forest god tamed demons” (most likely in reference of the devil fruits but still). In ch 764, Corazon said something about a legend for the celestial dragon kids, that if they don’t behave, they will be eaten up by a bearer of D. Much like stories where demons take misbehave children. Doflamingo first brush off the superstition, but his shock in ch 768 could mean it started to believe it. And we know that some celestial dragon doesn’t know what happened during the void century (ch 1114). Plus, the moon probably references the Dawn, D. Like in Lili’s letter (“Bear the flag of the dawn against” ch 1085). But also, as @karinzany pointed out, we referred to lord and lady as Dom and Dona, putting a D. before their name. And it is also the sound of the drums, the music heard when Joy Boy is fighting. The D. were the enemies of the first twenty, probably link to the great kingdom. They bear the will of D.. So the Demons could be an incarnation of the will of the people? The will of D.? Most people from the moon (the Shandian, the Skypiean and the Birkan) have wings, like the demon? The demon being a manifestation of the will of D. could mean that the Clan of D. has created Devil Fruits or are linked to it, it’s a bit far stretched I have to admit, but the will of D. could be the desire that led to devil fruits (I think I’m high, don’t listen to me).

The dragon being the celestial dragon: the snake of hellfire is on earth, tied to the Greak Kingdom. We don’t know why the Great war begun. It could be from the greed of the twenty first or a rebellion. But we know that there is the Great kingdom (tangled with the serpent of hellfire) vs the twenty countries (royalties that will become gods, the celestial dragon).

Zunesha and Noah

This fragmentation of the earth will allow Zunesha (in green) to assemble Red Line, on Imu’s order. Its great sin.

The Noah seems in it, with the couple of some species (except the one winged person). We know that Zunesha is able to suck up large amount of water and expel it (ch 806). We also learn that the mink tribe live on it since a thousand year (so prior to the void century) in ch 802. The Noah may have been misinterpreted by Neptune, it is to bring the merfolks to the surface but to allows life to survive the rising water, most of it cause by the void century, with a 200 meters rise (ch 1115).

Noah being inside of Zunesha could also be the great sin of Zunesha. Since it stops Joy Boy and Poseidon to raise Noah, breaking his promise. (Though, rising? Why? It seems already at the surface, so, maybe not.)

A problem with that line of thoughts is the fact that the Lunarians used to live on top of red line (ch 1023). It was the Kingdom od Gods, before Mary Geoise was erected (ch 1033). So Grand Line must already exist.

~~ Crazy interlude.

Skip if you do not want to read about the unbelievable thoughts of a random tumblr user:

What we know of the Great Kingdom:

Joy Boy is born there, ch 1114.

It was advanced technologically far beyond the modern day, ch 1066. And powerful.

It was destroyed and erased by the world government, after its defeat against the twenty first. And its existence is a threat to the world government, ch 375. The great war was caused by a “clash of two opposing ideologies” ch 1115.

They carved a message in the poneglyphs, therefore are most likely allied to the Kozuki Family and Wano.

That’s not much.

Why did the great war happened?

Okay, so as I said, I think that the purpose of the alliance between the twenty countries was good. Even with the propensity of Oda to depict good monarchy, its unlikely that it was a bed of roses. In Dressrosa, everyone looked happy until you scratched the surface.

They must have done something, like coerce the other countries. A bit like the United Kingdom/Great Britain (I know it is not exactly the same thing, sorry for the north Irish, but the name kind of strikes me here). And so that lead to a revolution, like the thirteen colonies. At first it seems like a good idea, establishing their independence. But a bit like the US, they draw away from that purpose, installed a world government that will insure international peace and security. Sometimes it will just ignore its authority, like with Lulusia, to do what they want/seems fair. They will start wars outside of their nation, oppress people and exploit their resources.

But its not just the US, it’s also France. Mary Geoise. Oda could mashed up everything beautifully.

Anyway. Joy Boy fought, not to restore the Great Kingdom necessarily. But because the first twenty didn’t just liberate themselves, they took it too far and enslaved/massacred/… innocent people from the Great Kingdom. He fought for the liberation of the people of the Great Kingdom, a bit like Luffy who never fight for/help a country but for its people.

Who erected Red Line?

Also, we know that Lunarian lived on top of Red Line before the celestial dragon. So Red Line existed prior to the end void century. So probably at the beginning? At the end of the first world. But who assembled it? Zunesha? Imu shouldn’t be born at the beginning, since the great war lasted a century. And that the devil fruits came into existence in the second world.

So maybe its not the twenty first that erected Red Line but the Great Kingdom. Maybe using their technology to terraform the planet. Or maybe using Zunesha, forcing it to pull the land together. Zunesha would then resent them, and be part of the revolution, with the twenty first.

Something that doesn’t add up is the presence of the lunarian next to Joy Boy in the left. Maybe the great kingdom formed the Red Line, a bit like USA and their stupid wall. It wasn’t to live on it, just to separate the world. Although we don’t know much about the twenty country, we know that there is Dressrosa and Arabasta, both on either side of Red Line. So doesn’t make much sense. And that was the final straw for the allied country. They needed Red Line as a base to launch Uranus, a bit like Iraq, and started a war.

The formation of Red Line started the revolution that will lead the to the assemble of the twenty first and the creation of the world government.

Anyway. That’s it for me, we can go back to the mural.

End of the crazy interlude~~

The left side of the mural

The tree

The right side (again, its continuous, but that is hard to display). The split is the apparition of the tree (some call it Eve) that conceive devil fruits.

Joy Boy side

So we have the crew/alliance of Joy Boy. With a lunarian, merfolks (and a whale, because of Red Line?), minks (one seems to be a sulong, but that’s weird since it’s the same species or maybe the Guardian  Deity of Wano), Emet, Ancient Giant, Giant, dwarf, Poseidon, a Sea King, and Joy Boy Crew. It’s composed of a ship from arabasta (in yellow, with the flag, led by lili), wano (in red, with samurai and ninja), Fish-Man Island (in blue, with their long band/sash around their shoulder), and three others I can’t identify.

By the way, weird there is the lunarian but not the Buccaneer or the three eyes clan, especially considering ch 1121. I mean the three eyes okay, they could have not participate and just be able to read the poneglyph. But the Buccaneer? The strong man that worship Nika? Weird.  

I don't know

There is also Uranus again, and what seems to be rain. Uranus looked like it is thrown by the monster on Joy Boy and co. But for the rain, I have no idea. They could be leaf, from the tree and so devil fruits?

Joy Boy enemies

What is really interesting is what is they are against. We see the third monster holding what could be the sun and at the bottom a ship with five humanoids on board and one that is leaving.

The monster is Imu and the sailors are the old Gorosai: the most agreed interpretation from what I see. This could be the demonic form of Imu and showing their battle against Lili. The demonic depiction could foreshadow Imu transformation or real nature. But I don’t think so.

The monster is the predecessor of Blackbeard, and its crew or the marine allied: this one is also far stretched. But. We know that Imu has a picture of Luffy (the “new” Joy Boy), Shirahoshi (Poseidon), and Black Beard chopped in ch 908. Vivi is the only one intact, despite her betrayal/”error”. Luffy makes sense. He embodies Joy Boy (seemingly the same dream, the same capacity to recruit allies to his sides, the same Devil Fruit, the same straw hat (?)). For me he is not a reincarnation of Joy Boy. He is much his own person. But he embodies Joy Boy (and Nika) for people around him. Shirahoshi too since she has the same power of the one that seems to be the ally of Joy Boy and an ancient weapon. Vivi made a “blunder” (Imu doesn’t to know about Lili betrayal, “so one must wonder whether ot was truly a mistake or if it was actually part of some larger plan” ch 1085. So maybe her betrayal is not known. But how could the children have depicted her by Joy Boy side then? They knew because they were in her real side?). But Imu still seems rather fond of her, or at least attached, with the painting ch 1084. And Vivi remind them of her. But Blackbeard? Two possibilities. His particular bloodline. Or his devil fruit, the Yami Yami no Mi. And considering Imu reaction to Saturn incompetence in ch 1125, pre-blackbeard could be one under the order/ally of Imu, but show themselves incapable of stopping Joy Boy from protecting the ancient weapons and leaving his treasor on Laugh Tale (and maybe spreading the poneglyph, following Lili's mistake but contrarely to pre blackbeard and Saturn, Imu was close to Lili). This will also explain the symmetry in ch 1121, with Blackbeard and Luffy. Because if I don’t think that the mural predicts the future, history is bound to repeat itself, especially if we don’t learn from our mistake (which is impossible here since the past was erased). Plus, Luffy and Blackbeard are their own person, but they still embody ideas (Luffy freedom and the importance of the end of a dream, Blackbeard power and the unachievable dream). Blackbeard crew could be the marine, with an alliance to stop Joy Boy (the same as to stop Rocks), or his own crew.

The monster holds the sun, that look a lot like the jolly roger of the sun pirate. That could be the “man that killed the sun and became god”. The sun isn’t literal, more like a symbolism for hope and joy. Physically, it could be the giant straw hat from ch 906. Its more like a symbol that was passed down. A bit like Nika and its cult.

Devious symbolism

There are four gods named and one man that became god. And three monsters. But five creatures colored in black. The three monsters, Imu and Joy Boy.

The sand worm stands for the earth god. The one that is angry either because mankind touched the forbidden sun (here supposedly Uranus, and destroyed lands) or because the enslaved prayed the sun god and they appeared (they wished for a better future and the earth god is angry for their greed/will to fight against fate). It also looks like Ju Peter (one of the gorosei). It could either be a devil fruit, and people dreamt to be powerful (?), or something that Imu granted him, and its inspiration came from the great war.

The Itsumade illustrating the forest god. The one that took pity on the enslaves and enable them to grow powerful enough to break their chain. The one that tame demons. The one that follow the breath (of the fight?) in the void.

The devil (the one with the wings and horns, holding the sun) symbolizing the sea god. He stormed either because someone killed the sun and became God (doesn’t make much sense, since it should be Imu, and they are fighting the enemy of Imu, or it could be the one who ate the devil fruits, which doesn’t make much sense either since in the third world “the sun returns and brings a new morning”, for me its hope), or because people dreamed (here again, same reaction than the earth god. Which could make sense. The sea is harsh and fair. It allows people to dream. It kills. It is angry against people that ate a devil fruit, human’s hope and desire).

Joy Boy embodying the Sun God. (Duh.). “The sun god dances and laughs guiding the world to its end” (and I know it’s the third world. But also, Joy Boy loosing was the end of the void century, the end of the world like they knew it. And history is still bound to repeat itself (with hopefully the victory of luffy)). The god that answers slaves’ prayers.

The man that “killed the sun and became god” is Imu. The first twenty are the one that want to become god. And Imu is standing on top of them. The sun being the joy and hope.

Also, on ch 1121, there is this amazing symetry between the four emperor.

Shanks against Baggy. Red-Blue. The apprentice of Gol D. Roger (and also Mihawk, his rival, and Crocodile, the other kid from god valley (because Crocodile is the son of Rocks and the Crocodad theory is real (probably not but its fun))).

And Luffy and Blackbeard. The dreamer duo. Black-white. Sun-darkness. They have almost the same number on their crew (Luffy 9 and BB 10 as of now). And that could also mean that those idea fought, Joy Boy against the Devil.

So for me the boss final of Luffy won't be Imu but Blackbeard. The Straw hats will probably have an impact in taking down the world government, but the heavy lifting is for the revolutionary army (Sabo my beloved, Ivankov my goddess, Koala my queen could shine. And I hope Bonney will do literally nothing, she did too much already. She is only 12. Let her rest Oda. And watch the friends of her parents destroy the one that enslaves them and killed them. And cursed her.) Much like during the Great War. The difference could be that now, they have a revolution, not just a assemble of crew, but a reflexion, a plan and an organized army to face Imu.

End

I do think that all for me lmao. I’ll probably edit it to be clearer and proofread it. And I will take into consideration every suggestion before I read the next chapter (other way it defeat the whole purpose). So please, don’t hesitate to share your thoughts on it!

Also, English is not my first language, so not only I may have mixed up some translation from the Manga but just straight up annihilate the language. If I only have distain for it, I would hate for this post to not be readable/accessible for you.

[crookedteethed]

18+ loss of virginity, mentions of non-con, brief smut descriptions

⋆ ★ Thinking about how the Rafe's would take your virginity. <3

Season One Rafe would so take your V card at one of the kook parties, or maybe even in the secluded rec room at the Country Club during Midsummer's. Either way, I can see you losing your virginity to him in a public place. Somewhere where his friends are too, so after he fucks you, he can immediately boost about it.

Ugh, I could see it now, his stupid hair slicked back, his suit bluer than ever, and that silly smile on his face whispering into Topper's ear: 

"Guess who I just had face down ass up on the pool table in the rec room." (Bonus points if you're the hottest girl on the island everyone's been trying to touch.) 

He'd nag you about having sex with him, especially if you'd been talking to one another for months (Not dating. Talking.) 

He would make pass after pass at you every time you'd make out with each other: His hand would sometimes snake its way underneath your skirt, and he'd press on your clothed mound with his thick fingers, or he would (very childishly) start popping you in the back with your bra strap to try to get you to take it off. He'd stopped when you went braless.

When telling season one Rafe that you were a virgin, you almost saw an uncontrollable smile creep onto his face--it's just something having ownership over ones very FIRST sexual interaction (This would be a recurring theme for him in each season.). 

But with that being said, this man would not go soft on you. 

Season Two Rafe, he's got a lot of shit on his plate: he wants to get in the good graces with his father, those stupid pouges have his gold, and he suspects that something could be wrong with him, but no one wants to listen to him. The last thing he needs is a girlfriend that won't put out.

In season two, Rafe knew you were a virgin, and he knew you'd been waiting until you had at least been together for a few months--which, surprisingly, he was okay with--as long as you two could do oral on each other--which you did. 

But one day, a violent fight between Rafe and his father broke out on a date night. 

You'd offer to reschedule the reservations you made for dinner--reschedule the whole day, but to your dismay, Rafe still wanted to go for it. 

It wasn't until after dinner when you were both sitting outside of Tanny Hill in Rafe's truck, that Rafe got himself worked up going over the events from earlier with Ward. 

It wasn't until you both were inside his house that he started complaining about other things--more evidently about you and your stupid virginity saving.

Nonetheless, you just let the boy rant because he was mad; it didn't stop you from your heavy make-out session on his bed later that night.

Something was particularly rough about this make-out session; every time he went to kiss your lips, his hand would wrap around your throat, and every time you protested, his other hand would cover your mouth. 

In the moment, it only felt right to Rafe to overpower you completely, hiking up your dress and pulling down your panties to your knees, along with his slacks and his briefs. 

He cooed you when you cried--as if he weren't the one inflicting your pain, he held you tight when you tried to push him away, and he'll whisper in your ear, "How could you hold out on me with such good pussy like this." every time you told him 'no."

You would almost lose your virginity to Season Three Rafe in a heated moment of vulnerability. 

Rafe would open up to you about his troubles, which ultimately led to him telling you about the bad things he's done to the pouges—to his sister—in the past and how bad he felt. 

And there was something so attractive about THEE kook king breaking down his exterior just for you. 

When the moment got heated with a shared passionate kiss, as Rafe lips left a wet trail down your neck, you moaned, "Rafe, I'm a virgin." and then he stopped. 

Rafe knew he wanted to take your virginity, but he didn't want to make any more brash decisions; he wanted your first time to be special. 

A month or so later, he takes you with him on a business trip to  Guadeloupe--he doesn't tell you what type of business he's doing; all you know is that when he's done, you can have him all to yourself. 

And fuck is he so charming. 

He rents a condo for you two, takes you shopping, and takes you to fancy dinners.

After being out all day, you'd come back to the condo with a trail of roses leading to the bedroom (very cheesy, but he's doing his best). 

Now, don't get me wrong. Just because season three Rafe did take the liberty of making your first-time special doesn't mean he will go all soft on you. 

He does let your cunt adjust to his length for a few slow strokes--until he's completely wrecking your shit--I'm talking about his tip kissing your cervix and him making you squirt for the first time.

[gloomwitchwrites]

Monster (S)mash - Task Force 141 x Female Reader - Porn Star AU

Content & Warnings: Porn Star AU, group sex, oral sex (male & female receiving), unprotected piv, cnc, restraints, anal sex, double penetration, haunted houses, masks, knifeplay, creampie, multiple orgasms, cum swallowing

Word Count: 5.5k

A/N: For Kinktober 2024 (Group Sex)

On the set of Monster (S)mash, the monsters come out to play. It's your first themed porn film and it's set in a haunted house. You're eager. Excited. But you've never taken something like this on before. You're filming with four of the greatest names in porn, and you don't want to mess this up.

ao3 // main masterlist // kinktober 2024 masterlist

"Would you like to review the scene? Go over boundaries again?"

Kate Laswell, the Intimacy Coordinator, takes a seat on the opposite couch.

"I'd like a refresh," replies Johnny. "Now that I'm in character." He grins, gesturing at himself, and you almost laugh at how ridiculous he looks.

Johnny MacTavish, known in the industry for his many creampie videos, is dressed as a crazed clown with a red wig and exaggerated makeup. His clothing is nothing more than a black industrial vinyl apron covering up the important bits. Kyle Garrick, a connoisseur of the cam world, sits next to him in a fresh white robe with a Jason Voorhees mask sitting on top of his head, the elastic band digging into his skin behind his ears.

Kyle taps away at his phone. "I should go before you, mate." Kyle glances up and winks at you. "Since I’m up first."

You feel heat rush to your cheeks. Kyle is incredibly handsome—all four of them are—but Kyle has a gentle swagger that flusters you a bit every time he addresses you. The two others, John Price and Simon Riley, are still in the makeup tent transforming into a werewolf and a demon.

While you've been on various porn sets, this one is far more complex than previous films you've been a part of. Monster (S)mash is set in a "haunted house." You'll go room to room, each containing one of the four men before it ends with the five of you partaking in each other. Filming is expected to take all day and possibly into the next.

Kate finds a comfortable spot on the sofa and addresses the two of you. "Your scene takes place in a forest with a cabin. They'll be a fake machete. We're looking at knife play. Some c-n-c. A bit of a chase. What do you think about that?"

Kyle shrugs and then glances at you. "Sounds fun. I'm excited. But it's what you want." He gazes at you expectantly.

You shrug. "What we talked about during our meeting yesterday is good with me."

Kyle nods. "I remember."

"And we know the safe word and the non-verbal signal in case anyone needs to stop?" asks Kate.

"Apple," says Johnny.

"Three fingers with a wrist shake for non-verbal," adds Kyle.

Kate smirks. "And what if someone is restrained and cannot shake their hand?"

"Then three fingers will do," you finish.

She smiles, clearly content with that answer. "Very good." She clasps her hands and then pushes up from the couch. "My assistant and I will be standing off to the side watching and listening for a signal."

Rodolfo, the director’s personal assistant pops his head in. “We’re ready for the first scene.”

Kyle groans as he stands, returning the Jason mask to its proper place. The robe is gone and tossed onto the sofa beside Johnny. Kyle is completely naked underneath it all. You follow him out, robe still on.

"Head that way to mark," Rodolfo says to Kyle and then he gestures at you, beckoning you closer. "Stand here."

You find your mark and then remove your robe, handing it off to Rodolfo who politely keeps his gaze averted. Unlike Kyle who wears nothing, you're in a skimpy black thong that's more string than material.

“Quiet on set!” comes Alejandro Vargas’ voice from the director’s area. He’s standing behind a monitor, watching whatever is coming through on the camera.

There's some minor rustling before all goes silent.

"On three...two...one."

You stand just outside the entrance of the fake haunted house. Taking a deep breath, you count to three. Glancing over your shoulder, you deliberately stare off-camera, and then head inside. The camera moves forward as you walk, focusing in on the makeshift sign.

You will be touched, carried, restrained, played with...

The camera lingers on the sign for a few seconds before following you into the dark.

"Cut!" Alejandro calls out. "Let's hold there. Get her to mark two."

Rodolfo appears, gesturing toward the first "room" of the haunted house.

Each set is separated by curtains. With the lights on, it looks a bit silly, but during filming and post-production editing, no one will know that these scenes weren't filmed in an actual haunted house attraction.

As you step up to your mark, a tingle of excitement swells in your belly. You've always found your job fun and enjoyable, but this is the first themed film you've attempted. While the film crew and intimacy coordinator have solid reputations in the industry, the four men you're working alongside are known for their decency, politeness, and general kindness when working with others. During yesterday's meetings, they were incredibly focused, asking questions, and spent extra time wanting to know and remember your boundaries and limitations.

When you first started out, that was unheard of. You’d show up to set and hope for the best. Discussions about limitations and boundaries were few and far between.

"Going on three...two...one."

You enter the first room.

It's arranged to resemble the front of a cabin in the middle of the woods near a lake. The cabin is just a facade anchored onto a wall while blue lighting creates water-like ripples off the front of the cabin. The path to the "exit" is lined with two folding chairs, a metal picnic table, and a makeshift campfire with fake flame included. Ambient nature sounds play in the background, but it's only loud enough to create an unsettling atmosphere.

Slowly, you step around the two folding chairs and walk past the picnic table, glancing around in feigned nervousness as if danger lurks around every corner. That danger is just Kyle in his Jason mask.

As if summoned by your thoughts, Kyle appears. Standing near the makeshift exit, he is completely naked other than the mask and the machete clenched in his right fist. You freeze, holding up your hands in a placating gesture.

Kyle rolls his shoulders and neck. You hear the audible pop from where you're standing. He saunters forward, turning the machete handle end-over-end in his palm. Though you know the machete is fake, and that Kyle won't harm you, your fight-or-flight response kicks in. It fuses with your excitement and underlying arousal, sending your senses into overdrive. Your vision narrows, focusing on Kyle as he swaggers toward you.

"No," you whisper, backing toward the spot you entered from.

Kyle lunges, and you shriek, turning on your heel to dodge out of the way.

Spreading his arms wide, Kyle blocks your way forward. You step to the left and he matches your movement, the machete blade outstretched. While the two of you discussed this scene with the intimacy coordinator, the chase is entirely improvised. You don't know what Kyle will do or how he'll eventually trap you. The idea is thrilling, warming your body with heightened anticipation.

Stepping around the edge of the picnic table, you aim to dart around him on the right side. Kyle leaps over the fake flames and lands in your path. He swings the machete and you duck. The blade is nothing more than rubber, and his aim is purposefully wide.

As you turn away, Kyle follows, his stride casual and calm. It's infuriatingly sexy how sure of himself he is. And somehow, you're flustered by him, even as you try to make for the exit.

But there is no escape—and it's not like you want to get away from him.

Kyle's muscled arm catches you by the stomach. He hauls you against his chest, even as you wiggle and squirm, lashing out as if that will do anything. His strength is apparent in the way he confidently keeps you close, unafraid that you might accidentally clip his jaw with your knuckles.

The camera moves in as he brings the machete up to your throat, pressing the rubber blade against your jugular.

"Stop moving," he growls, the mask muffling the sound.

You cease your squirming, both hands grasping his forearm. The edge of the mask digs into the side of your face, and his hard cock presses roughly against your back.

"Are you going to be a good girl?" he asks. The low gruffness in his voice sends a bolt of heat straight to your pussy.

You whimper, but say nothing.

Kyle lightly slaps the inside of your upper thigh. "Answer me."

"I'll be good," you gasp, the sting of his strike causing your muscles to clench, ass bucking into his pelvis.

"You'll be what?" This time he squeezes your thigh.

"A good girl."

He makes a pleased sound as the machete falls away and his arm releases you. Grabbing the back of your neck, Kyle uses his grip to turn you around, to force you to look at his face. With the mask, all you can see are his eyes. They're in shadow, but fuck, they're gorgeous.

With a final squeeze, Kyle forces you to your knees. His cock bobs in front of your face. Your lips part, but Kyle keeps a firm grip, allowing nothing. He is in control.

Your gaze is entirely focused on him. You have no idea where the camera is, and there is no point in looking. It's not your concern.

"Wider," he instructs, and you present your mouth to him, tongue out. "That's it."

The head of his cock taps against your tongue and then slides back and forth over its surface, teasing what's to come.

You want it. You want him.

Kyle's hand moves from the back of your neck to the top of your head. He fists your hair there, and then guides your mouth around his cock, forcing you to take every inch of him. The cool rubber of the machete presses against your neck. Your hands rise, anchoring yourself by grasping the front of his bare thighs.

You hold on as he fucks your throat. Keeping your gaze on the mask, you relax your muscles, focusing on not gagging. Kyle is more length than girth, and the head of his cock roughly hits the back of your throat with each stroke.

"That's a good girl," he rasps. "My perfect slut."

The praise is wonderful. Perfect. You hold on to it, humming with contentment around him, the vibrations making him shiver. In your peripheral, you notice the glint of a camera lens but you don't glance over. You focus on Kyle, and how eager you are to get both of you off.

Kyle is rough but not overly slow. He's careful not to go too far. His movements are restrained but controlled, and that only turns you on more. One of your hands slips between your thighs and you find yourself blissfully wet.

You circle your clit and then dive downward to slip one finger, and then two, inside your pussy. Repeating the motions only builds the oncoming orgasm like a viper hidden in a pile of leaves, waiting to strike.

"Are you fucking yourself with your fingers?" Kyle's question isn't meant to be answered. It's rhetorical. He knows you are. He can see it.

With his cock in your mouth, you're unable to answer. One watery tear rolls down your cheek and Kyle lightly taps the machete blade against your throat.

"Not being a good girl. Didn't tell you to do that."

The machete disappears. Using his grip on the top of your head, Kyle guides your mouth off and away with a wet pop. He drags you to your feet, and as you move to run from him, Kyle presses the tip of the machete against your stomach.

"Get on the table," he growls. "Now."

You glance over your shoulder briefly to figure out where it is. The path is clear—just a few steps and you're on it. Kyle prods you with another poke of the machete.

Moving backward, you eventually bump into the edge of the table. Kyle does not help you up but the top is just below hip-level. You get on easily.

"On your back. Legs spread."

The command in his tone is undeniable. You do exactly as Kyle says. The camera is directly behind him, following his forward advance. Kyle wraps his hand around your ankle and tugs, dragging you to the very edge until you're close to falling off.

Without ceremony or elegance, he tears away your thong and tosses it aside. Kyle lines himself up and thrusts.

"Fucking hell," he groans.

You moan loudly, toes curling as your pussy takes all of him. The stretch is just enough to hurt but entirely euphoric.

Kyle slams the machete down onto the table next to you. In seconds, he has one hand over the front of your throat and the other on your inner thigh, keeping you wide as he drives in and out of your body.

This is where he's roughest, and you don't care at all. It's delicious. Glorious. From this angle you can watch every corded muscle shiver as he moves.

And the eye contact.

Kyle won't stop looking at you. His gaze is firm. Heavy. You are trapped by it as much as by his strength. His hand on your inner thigh slides further inward until he's almost on your pelvis. The camera shifts to point directly at where your bodies meet just as Kyle's thumb starts rubbing slow circles around your clit.

The building orgasm shivers outward, stretching into your limbs. A sense of numbness comes with it, as if you're floating above your body. It lingers there at the heightened apex before crashing down around you.

Your body tenses—seizes. Kyle groans, continuing to thrust through it. His thumb keeps stroking, and the intensity continues, wave after wave flooding through your system until you near overstimulation.

Kyle's thrusting increases, a pounding rhythm that signals his coming end.

"Fuck," he groans, hand around your throat tightening slightly.

The fingers on your thigh dig in, and Kyle stills, his sigh a gentle rainfall. You feel your pussy flood with warmth as his release hits him. You see the shudder, watch as his eyelids close behind the mask, and the keen pulse of his veins in his arms.

Kyle thrusts once. Twice. And then with a heavy sigh, grasps the base of his cock, stroking it as he slowly eases out. The camera comes into view, panning inward to catch the sight of his cum. Kyle keeps you still, gaze lingering on you. He's waiting for the camera's retreat.

Just as it backs away, Kyle's grip on you loosens. You're the pretend, helpless victim no longer.

Gripping the machete, you strike out. Kyle avoids your terrible swing, and that gives you your change. Off the table and onto the floor, you rush toward the exit, not looking back though you hear his enraged growl and the swoosh of air as he lunges for you.

You disappear, nearly stumbling into the next room as the director calls for the end of the scene.

"Cut!"

You catch yourself before falling forward, a little breathless. Poking your head out from behind the curtain, the set team comes rushing in, moving objects out.

"Let's set the next scene."

As you step out, Rodolfo and someone from the makeup department rush in. You're offered your robe which you politely decline but accept the water.

"You good, love?" Kyle approaches, removing his mask, gaze expectant and observing.

"Yeah. I'm good," you reply, taking another gulp of water.

His observation isn't one of keen interest but one of concern. He's checking you over. Making sure he didn't harm you.

"I didn't hurt you?"

You're a little sore but it feels good. "No," you answer. "Promise. I'm fine."

He grins, relief clear on his face. "Thought I might have been too much."

You shake your head. "Not at all."

Rodolfo checks his watch. "Ready for the next scene? Or would you like a break?"

You cap the water and hand it to him. "I can handle it."

He nods. "Be ready in five."

After a bathroom break, a brief touch-up, and a gentle cleanse between the thighs, you're herded to the next mark.

"We're going in ten...nine..."

Your robe is removed and water whisked away. The camera is somewhere in the room already, ready for you to step out from behind the curtain.

"...three...two...one."

You emerge, knowing that this might be the scene you need to call a stop to. Not that it'll be Johnny's fault, but the place is absolutely ghastly.

It's set up like a meat processing warehouse. The room is bathed in red light. Fake bodies wrapped up in cloth hang from the ceiling along with a few hooks on chains. There are two "exits" covered in plastic strip curtains. One is a true exit and the other is where Johnny is supposed to emerge from, but you have no idea which.

The camera follows your forward movements as you navigate around the hanging set pieces. Against the wall is a stainless-steel table. On it are bloody body parts all haphazardly stacked on top of each other.

As you make it to the middle of the room, Johnny appears—not that you see him. You don't notice him at all. It isn't until he revs the chainsaw he's holding that you do. It startles you so bad that you stumble backward into a fake body, almost tripping on your own foot.

Johnny charges forward, much faster than Kyle. The hanging bodies, hooks, and chains are in the way. You try to push them aside, to run as you're supposed to, but it hampers your movement.

Johnny catches you quickly.

Cornering you between a trio of hanging bodies, Johnny circles the space, revving the chainsaw as he walks. There is no chain on it, but he doesn't point it at you. He keeps it pointed away from his body and yours.

Transferring the chainsaw to one hand, Johnny snags your upper arm, dragging you against him. You beat at his chest, the vinyl apron slippery when your skin makes contact. Nothing happens. Johnny is solid.

With his grip on your arm, Johnny hauls you toward the body-covered table. He sets the chainsaw down and then both hands are on you. Spinning you around to face him, you attempt to fight him off even as he restrains you, attaching handcuffs to your wrists with ease.

“Let me go!” you shriek, but Johnny only laughs. It’s manic and high—completely deranged. It’s wonderful acting. You’ll give him that.

With a sharp tug on the connecting chain, Johnny sends you stumbling. He steps out of the way, his hand coming down on your ass with a sharp slap. You yelp but manage not to fall. The smirk on his face tells you everything. He’s loving this.

You attempt to strike out at him but Johnny is so much stronger.

Using his massive, muscled arms, Johnny wrestles for control, winning easily. You’re herded to the center of the room. At one of the hooks, Johnny lifts your arms over your head, hooking the connecting chain on the nearest one.

Everything stretches, but it’s not painful. It's a good stretch and just enough to keep you on your feet but appear as if you're hanging in the air. It's a great trick. You're on full display for the camera and for Johnny.

You’re facing away from Johnny, and you have no idea where the camera is. All you’re aware of is your breathing, and the swelling tightness in your muscles as the stretch starts to curl forth a gentle ache.

You’re hanging there. Untouched. Waiting.

There’s a gentle brush against the back of your thigh. You jerk against the touch, tilting your head to catch a glimpse of him. Johnny appears before you like a phantom. He steps into your view slowly. The red light bathes him in a blood-tinged glow.

Johnny grins, grasping your chin in his hand.

“Are you going to remain a good girl for us?” His Scottish lilt is sinful. You find yourself leaning forward as if you’ll kiss him. That grin softens, and then becomes a wicked thing.

Johnny drops to his knees before you.

His hands grab the backs of your upper thighs, lifting you off your feet. He guides your legs over his shoulders, hands adjusting to support your ass. Johnny’s mouth is on your pussy immediately, tongue teasing your entrance. The fake plastic nose he wears perfectly presses against your clit. It rubs back and forth against it as he devours your pussy.

The orgasm comes quickly and with sharp intensity. You scream out your pleasure, head falling back, eyes closed as Johnny continues to feast between your thighs. Your toes curl, the muscles in your lower back seizing and relaxing with each wave.

With a final lick, Johnny tilts his head back, smug with himself.

You’re gasping for air, chest heaving as Johnny returns your feet to solid ground. He ascends, hand undoing the ties that keep his black vinyl apron in place. He circles you as he does it, a teasing dance before it falls away.

Your gaze immediately drops, and fuck—Johnny is thick. There’s a decent amount of length but this man is all girth.

He palms his hard cock, gaze enraptured with the sight of you. Circling you like a predator, Johnny takes his opportunity to run his hands over your body, to touch everything. It’s been he comes to a stop behind you that the anticipation builds.

Johnny’s face presses against your neck as his hands grab hold of your hips. His cock rubs against your ass and then slides between your thighs. He rocks back and forth, coating himself in your wetness. The head of his cock pokes at your sensitive clit.

You whimper, and Johnny gives you relief.

With his grip on your hips, Johnny angles himself at your entrance. A quick thrust, and Johnny is home to the hilt. Your thighs are pressed against each other, and the thickness of Johnny’s cock is only intensified by the limited space.

He remains behind you, pumping steadily as you hang from the hook. Johnny’s hands on your hips delve, squeezing your thighs. He brings one palm down in a quick slap against it, your thigh jiggling from the strike.

“Fucking gorgeous,” he whispers into your ear, and you know that’s only for you to hear.

While Kyle was a bit rough with you, but Johnny is steady, his rhythm hitting all the right beats until you’re numb with lust. You fall into it, heading leaning back against his as Johnny as his way with you.

At his end, Johnny’s groan morphs into a whimper. He comes inside you, his grip tight as he holds you flush against him. A few more thrusts and then Johnny is pulling you, forcing your thighs apart to show the camera the mess there.

You expect a pause as the camera lingers there. What you don’t expect is for Johnny to put his mouth back to your pussy, to suck his cum out of it, to stand and force your head back, slipping his fingers between your lips only to spit his cum down your throat.

He grins at you, licks his lips.

This dirty fucker.

Your thumb finds the small button on the cuffs. Like everything else, it’s a prop. You press the button. The chain breaks as it’s supposed to. The moment your feet are flat, you take off, rushing toward the exit.

You hear pounding footsteps and then—

“Cut!”

Johnny almost knocks you down on the way out. “Shit,” he gasps, grabbing on to you before you topple forward.

“Take ten!”

A robe is thrust at you, and Johnny is pulled away as someone else shoves another water into your face and someone else fusses with your hair and makeup.

It’s the maze that’s next. This one is completely staged compared to the other scenes. At a certain point, you, Johnny, and Kyle will converge on a singular point. Johnny on one side of you. Kyle on the other.

When you’re set, you enter into the makeshift maze. You don’t need to go far. Just a few feet. Johnny is right behind you, every step heavy and loud as he navigates the maze. Only a couple striders further and you’re trapped.

Kyle steps out of the dark and you come to a halt. But as you retreat, Johnny is right there, blocking your exit. Their hands are on you immediately. You have no control. You give in to them, allowing them everything. It’s nice to surrender, to hand control off to someone else.

They move you into position. Johnny’s cock slides home, filling your pussy. Kyle takes the other side, and then you’re full in both holes, groaning loudly with each thrust. Your hands seek, fingers digging into whatever they can find.

Over your shoulder, Kyle pushes up his mask enough to reveal his lips. You go in, tasting Kyle’s sweetness. His hand grasps the front of your throat, dragging you in for a deeper kiss.

Johnny isn’t one to be left out.

As Kyle breaks away from the kiss, Johnny reaches for him, the two men locking lips next to your face as they both move in and out of your body. You drape your arm over the back of your Johnny’s neck, and all you know is the perfect way they fill you, and the feel of their lips against your skin.

And when it’s over, you’re a little disappointed that it couldn’t continue.

There’s another break—this one longer than the others. Kate’s assistant massages your muscles, and she checks in before the graveyard scene with John Price. You’ll truly need some rest before the final scene with Simon Riley and the rest of the men, but you can do one more.

But only one.

And it’s the easiest of the bunch.

There is no chasing. No running.

You play the helpless damsel, pushing at John’s chest as if you don’t want it. All around you is smoke and shadow. The headstones around the two of you create a little circle, almost as if you’re in the center of a ritual.

You’re put on your hands and knees on the ground, the fog from the fog machine swallowing up your hands and legs. Price is behind you, already pumping, already taking from you like the wolf he’s supposed to be.

The makeup department did wonders. They gave him sharp teeth, yellow contacts, and a partially transformed look to him. It’s brilliant, really. He looks very much the monster.

Each stroke is deep. John presses on your lower back, forcing you into a different position, pushing your ass higher into the air. Your legs widen and then John increases his pace, his pelvis smacking loudly against yours. Skin meets skin, and your pussy quivers with excitement as the orgasm builds.

You stroke yourself between your legs, leaning on one side to keep yourself upright enough not to slip. You’re slippery between your thighs, and you can’t help but trace where your bodies meet. Your nail grazes John’s cock, and he emits a low moan.

John grips your ass harder, and then he’s pounding into you, using your body like it belongs to him. You lightly bite your lip, trying to focus on your building orgasm. Each stroke comes with a spank, jerking you against your teasing fingers.

“Oh—fuck,” you mewl as your orgasm comes raging forward, curling outward.

John fucks you through it, growling like a fucking animal behind you. When your orgasm wanes, his hand grasps the back of your throat, holding you in place as he continues. All you have to do is sink into it, to grin with contentment and let him have what he wants.

There’s something primal to the way he holds you down and fucks you. It’s different from the way Kyle kept you in place or the way Johnny fucked you. Even in their roughness they were sweet. John is all business, and you’re perfectly fine with that.

His cock is fucking perfect, his dominating demeanor a soothingly sensual experience. There’s something to be said about giving in—to submitting.

But it’s after the extended break that completely alters your brain chemistry.

Simon is the last. The very last.

There is no chase. No true lead up.

This room is set in hell. There are fake flames, reddish-orange backlighting, and a throne. Simons sits on that throne, lounging casually, legs wide, his cock and heavy balls on full display. He’s dressed like the devil, but there are no plastic horns or dollar store red cape. He is perfectly painted in red and black. From his head are twisting black horns that curl up and back. They’ve given him red contacts and fake canines for a vampiric bite.

You are in his thrall, sitting at the base of his throne when the camera turns on. There is a leather collar around your neck connected to a silver chain that Simon holds in his fist. He lightly tugs on it, urging you forward.

Your hand wraps around his cock, stroking slowly, coaxing him toward hardness. You tease the head with a swirl of your tongue before taking him into your mouth. Simon fists the chain, twisting another link around his fist. Every time you take him deeper, Simon shortens the chain further and further.

At first, there is no tightness. It grows shorter. Shorter still. The leather begins to bite into your skin. With each twist of Simon’s wrist, the leash shortens. It draws you closer to Simon, leaving no room for you to retreat—to get air.

Your nostrils flare as you breathe through your nose. Relaxing your throat, you suck him down, cupping his testicles gently in tandem with your movements. The only sound he makes is a grunt and you have no idea if that’s good or bad.

But his cock is hard. Solid. You can’t take all of him or you’ll fucking choke on it.

He tugs sharply on the leash. "In my lap, pet."

You do as Simon instructs, standing between his legs before turning around toward the camera. You sink down into his lap, and Simon leans back, gently guiding you to straddle his lap, legs wide and draped over his thick thighs. He rubs his cock against your pussy, and then you’re sinking down on him.

John arrives from the dark, still in costume. He prowls forward, coming up to the left side of the throne. He grabs your wrist as he comes to a stop, guiding it to his cock. You fist John just as Simon thrusts upward.

Kyle arrives soon after. He kneels in front of you and Simon, teasing your clit with his fingers. It starts as a gentle stroke before his tongue replaces them, swirling little circles against your clit. Simon thrusts upward again, and your pussy clenches.

Just before your orgasm crests, Kyle’s tongue descends, stroking against the space where Simon’s cock intrudes. He descends further, lightly sucking one of Simon’s balls into his mouth. It’s brief. Just a blip. And then his tongue is back on your clit.

Your orgasm comes raging forward, but just as your mouth opens to cry out, Johnny appears, grabbing the back of your head, filling your mouth with his cock.

Your body is theirs to use.

Theirs to enjoy.

Simon thrusts upward, and Kyle draws back, his lips glossy with your arousal. He puts the mask back into place, and Simon lifts you off his cock. You’re picked up. Turned around. You sink back down on Simon’s cock, and Kyle is right there, adding his cock to your pussy. It’s an incredibly tight fit. They rock their hips gentle as John and Johnny touch your body, guiding your hand and mouth back to them.

One of them comes inside you—but you have no idea who before you’re full of just one cock. There are two sets of hands on your ass, bouncing you on whoever’s cock is filling you up. You’re simply clinging on, fingers digging into Simon’s shoulders. His head dips, the horns brushing against your cheek as his tongue circles a nipple.

John grabs the bottom half of your face. “Open,” he instructs and you do so, eagerly sticking out your tongue. John jerks himself until his cum explodes on your tongue. He tips your head to the side and Johnny follow suit.

“Swallow,” growls John and you do exactly that.

Someone groans, and whoever is inside you comes. You’re lifted off Simon’s lap, brought to standing, and then promptly bent over the arm of the throne. Simon’s cock returns to your mouth, and someone settles behind you, spreading your legs before sliding inside.

Every time someone comes in your pussy, you’re moved. Switched. Bent over. Spread wide. Forced onto your knees. You take it all. Enjoying every orgasm. Enjoying every touch.

As your energy fades, it is Simon that takes the final fuck, who brings you into his lap. His hands are firm on your ass, bouncing you up and down his shaft as the camera zooms in on it. You are lost in him—lost in the bliss that pulses throughout your body.

You are perfectly fucked.

Perfectly content.

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[bkgexe]

if all else fails, i was myself

bakugou x reader ✾ 4.6k

info! no smut sorry gang ✾ tw! trust issues that manifest as issues w physical intimacy/contact, dubcon in its vaguest definition (NOT bkg & reader) ✾ notes! ive been in perpetual writers block for months. is this trite idk. i miss my baby but anytime i write for him im like oops this is gonna be 60k words!!! so here is. a drabble lmao. also big lmao moment this is titled after count me out by kendrick lamar ldskfjdlkjf which was on repeat while writing so uh sorry mr. lamar abt the mha fanfic

katsuki has always known that part of him is wrong.

he’s never liked being touched. every kiss he’s experienced has made him tense as an elevator cable poised to snap. any attempt to go further than that has made him a little ill, made his gut feel like a stack of loose papers being torn to shreds, slow and loud.

it doesn’t help that he’s only ever had three kisses in his life: eijirou at a new year’s party (too many teeth), eijirou again at another new year’s party nearly a decade later (too much tongue), and then his fourth date with kyoka (when he tried to convince himself he just had to push through the discomfort to become normal).

things went further than that. it was a mistake. they both knew it right after it happened—kyoka first, and then katsuki after his head stopped pounding with what if i'm doing this wrong what if she's pitying me for fucking this up what if i don't know how to touch another person correctly what if i was supposed to learn at some point and i missed it how could i fucking miss it will it always be like this because i can't do this again i can't i don't—

“kat," she said after. she looked at him with something only a few degrees removed from pity, and poorly removed at that.

he attempted a halting non-apology. he attempted a real apology. failed at both.

"it's okay, you know," she said. "to not like it."

he scoffed even though he wasn’t entirely clear on what she meant by it, because there was so much he didn’t like. “i like it just fine.”

“if that was liking it, I’m honestly worried about your capacity for enjoying life in general.” it wasn’t a joke. her bluntness was something that'd made katsuki think he could push his boundaries with her. all of her thoughts were laid out plain for him to read, an open-source journal. “i'm just saying you don't have to like it. and you don’t have to force yourself to do things you don’t want to do. don't fuck yourself over for someone else's happiness.”

kyoka still texts him often, checks in, invites him to drinks with their friends. she’s kind. she’s normal. she doesn’t have this weird, shredded thing inside her that makes her balk at the idea of someone’s hand on her skin. that makes her think she's doing something wrong, even if she's not the one that initiated the touch.

when you started your job at the front desk of katsuki’s agency, he never thought that he'd be here, wishing above everything that he could just be normal. just for one fucking day, so he could laugh at your shitty jokes and maybe brush his knuckles across the back of your hand in passing and take you on a date where he could kiss you in his car after driving you home and the thought wouldn’t make his skin crawl, wouldn't tear up his insides to pulp.

because he fucked everything up. he's standing in his empty office where you'd been spending time with him and he fucked it up and hurt you and he's not sure how to unfuck it.

the thing is, he could grin and bear it. he could deal with the odd thing inside him that hates the contact and white-knuckle it through every kiss, every caress. but he’s never been a great actor. he wouldn’t be able to hide that from you.

(kyoka told him, years later, that it’s not that the sex itself wasn’t fine—what made it nearly unbearable for her was the fact that she could tell, only after it was too late, that being physically vulnerable with her pained him far more than he was willing to reveal.)

no one wants to feel like the person they’re with is grinning and bearing it. that they’re white-knuckling it through. katsuki knows this. he knows he’s basically a fucking virgin all but in title at thirty and that he’s got the personality of a dried-out fig you find in your fridge weeks after its last edible moments. he doesn't have much to offer.

but he walked into work one day and nodded at you, curt, a grimace on his face—and you smiled at him so kindly that his stomach twisted.

with you, it wasn't the feeling of something being torn apart. it was different, lighter. leaves wrenched into the sky by a strong breeze. still a kind of tearing, but different—less destructive.

he was wearing a deep carmine sweater his mom sent him in one of her bi-monthly care packages (as if he’s not an adult, and a pro-hero on top of that), and you said, “that’s such a nice color on you. is it new?”

there was that breeze inside his chest, strong, pulling at his bones. “yeah,” he grunted. then slowly, as if remembering how: “thanks.”

it was the attention, he thought at first, that piqued his interest. he wasn't used to it. people always watched him from afar, and he had fans online that were borderline obsessive, but people didn’t approach him. they didn’t say that’s such a nice color on you. they didn’t smile the way you smile.

he’s always had a shallow streak. it’s not like he doesn’t know this. it’s become a little muted over time, a little discouraged by the visible scarring on his face and body from his time in the field, but it’s never fully been eradicated. so it was simple, he thought. you paid him attention and stroked his ego, and he preened like a self-obsessed bird of paradise.

and then you started making these little origami whale sharks.

fucking stupid. it bothered him an annoying amount. you had a bunch at your desk, all different colors and sizes, some taped to your desktop monitor, some hung up with little pieces of string under the desk's storage overhang. you drew dots on the back of each one, a distinct spotted pattern that was unique for each shark. and you made them for everyone but him. eijirou bought you a pack of high quality origami paper and you made him his own fucking school, all with little faces, winking or surprised or angry, their wide paper mouths gaping and empty, the lines of their bodies pressed careful and sure.

he hated it. it was annoying and a waste of company time and he usually didn’t ever use dumb corporate slogans like “a waste of company time” but you were really pushing his fucking limits.

it was definitely just the attention he liked, he told himself, because surely someone doing something as dumb as this would annoy him to no fucking end if he spoke to them.

and then he spoke to you and he was wrong.

he asked why you made the damn things in the first place and you told him, “i like whale sharks. but to be totally honest, i just run out of things to do."

and he saw that as a challenge. you were running out of things to do? rest assured he could find more shit for you to take care of. so he did. tasks that he wouldn't wish on his worst enemy, they were so dull and time-consuming. and you were so achingly competent that it drove him up a fucking wall. you completed everything he asked of you in half the time it would take someone else, and you always reported back with a smile, and you always did good work, and he could see himself having a conversation with you about something other than work but he didn't want to try because he was worried he'd begin to like you as a person.

you're pretty. really fucking pretty. he can see that now, and he sure as fuck saw it then. you're hardworking. you're just likeable, and that's something katsuki had never been. it (reluctantly) impressed him. worse than that, it turned his feelings for you into a sort of interest.

but he knows he's not normal when it comes to things like this.

he tried to distance himself from you because of it, but it turns out that asking someone to do work for you means you do have to speak to them sometimes. and sometimes turned into a lot of times.

sometimes turned into bringing him coffee in the morning, not because he asked you to, but because you're sweet like that. sometimes turned into being the person he bounced ideas off of when he had a board meeting coming up or something otherwise boring and meticulous. sometimes turned into you laughing at his prickly comments rather than going quiet because of them. turned into you saying suck it up, dynamight, this is what it means to be the boss when he complained about doing paperwork.

sometimes turned into staying late with him at the office, getting take out for the two of you to share while you finished filing claims and damage reports and other stuff he hated taking care of by himself. sometimes turned into him asking you to stay late just because he wanted you there. because even when he was quiet, you'd tell him about your day, about things that happened in the office, about how much you like the book you'd both been reading. he loved listening to you talk. felt comfortable enough to tell you things about himself when he'd never felt comfortable doing that before.

sometimes turned into you holding out a piece of fried tofu from your take-out container for him to eat while he was approving time-off forms that he should have looked at much earlier that week, and you being so close that he could notice how good you smelled, and the warmth of your body basically radiated towards him, like all your energy was focused on him, and your smile was small but somehow even more lovely than usual, a secret for him to tuck away and keep, and when you finished feeding him and he had a little sauce on the corner of his mouth and you reached forward to wipe it off for him and your hand lingered there for a moment and your eyes fell to his lips and what if you try to kiss me and i'm wrong and you hate me for it and what if i can't give you what you want and what if i'm not actually what you want what if i've disappointed you already what if—

it was too much.

so he fucked it up. your thumb was so soft against his skin. he reeled backwards in his chair, rolling it whole feet clear of you, and he felt the tearing again, the bad kind, like paper unevenly shredded by clumsy hands, and he had to leave. he had to leave. he needed to leave so badly that it felt like pulling his skin off would be preferable to being in that office with you.

hiding in the bathroom was fucking pitiful. he remembered his breathing exercises. he remembered to ground himself. and when he came back to his office, you were gone.

if he was normal—and he wants to be normal, god fucking damn—he could have stomached your proximity. he could have eaten out of your fucking hand. he could have touched you back like a normal person probably would have and he wouldn't be here, alone, looking at a little purple sticky note you left him that says i finished organizing the pto forms. i hope you feel better!

he doesn't know whose pride you're trying to save with that. as if you didn't leave because he made things so fucking awkward by running away from you when you touched him. when you—maybe, if he was reading the room correctly—were about to kiss him.

and you don't speak to him for days. he doesn't want to push so he doesn't—just watches you out of the corner of his eye whenever you're both in the same room, which is arguably worse. he's not sure. he's just itching to fucking talk to you because he misses it.

he misses you. in a more-than-friends way.

it takes a while for him to realize this. when he does, it hits him like a metal rod up the side of the head. it's fucked up of him to miss you the way he does when he doesn't feel like he can provide you with the things a normal person could. and though he's worked on his patience over the years—worked on understanding that he can't have everything he wants—it doesn't stop him from being selfish and finally pulling you aside to talk.

and baffling as fucking ever, the first thing you say is sorry. "i know i should've talked to you about it earlier. i just—i shouldn't have done that. and i know it. i shouldn't have assumed that—i don't know. that you..."

you look helpless. it's one of the very few times that katsuki has ever felt the compulsion to touch someone. not because he wants the touch, per se, but because he wants to be able to provide comfort. he never figured out how to do that with words. he's so focused on his inability to comfort you that he barely has any idea of what you're actually talking about. instead of doing anything at all, he just stands there like a fuckwad.

"i just want you to know that i would never—like never—have touched you, or tried to... if i didn't think there was like, a vibe?" you shake your head, exasperated with yourself. "god, even that sounds so bad. i'm sorry, i just—"

"wait, what are—?" and then it clicks, because he's been slow on the uptake figuring out his shit when he should have been focusing way more on yours. "there was..." katsuki says, and he fucking hates that he can't find better words for what you were both feeling in his office, "a vibe."

the way your face changes when you're flustered is one of katsuki's favorite things, but it's not as enjoyable when he feels just as flustered as you look. "i—oh? so... so you—?"

his ears feel like they're being attacked by two heated straightening irons and he knows they're red as hell right now. he's gonna have to say this plainly even though he'd rather get his teeth pulled out one by one with a pair of pliers. "it's not you."

your expression loses any sort of hope it once held. you press your lips together and sigh, maybe a little exasperated. he's doing his best here but he knows his best is shit. "i can handle a non-cliché rejection," you tell him. "honestly, i'd prefer a non-cliché rejection—"

"i'm not trying to reject you," he says, and it's selfish of him. because he's really not. he isn't comfortable with the things you'd want from him, but he still wants you in some capacity. "i just don't—do shit like that."

"kissing?"

somehow knowing for sure that you did want to kiss him in his office makes him want you more. he likes that you're bold. he likes that you're not ashamed of that. he wants to be different than he is. "any... of it," he struggles to admit.

"at all?"

he nods.

"just—like touching, and stuff?"

it sounds so juvenile that he can't help but laugh through his nose, roll his eyes. "yeah. touching and stuff."

"oh."

you're disappointed. of course you are. it's not like he expected anything different, but—sometimes he fucking hates his life. hates that he can't be the thing people need him to be. hates that trying is so difficult, that it flings his stomach into space, like a throwing stone skipping across a still lake.

"so you don't go on dates, or anything."

"haven't tried."

"do you not want to?" you ask, and he can tell it's more of a genuine question than anything. you're curious about him, like you always are. it's more than he deserves, for all he can offer.

"doesn't make sense to."

"that's not what i asked."

it's not. and so katsuki listens as you ask your question again, and he really takes a moment to think.

considering the answer to your question leads him to his first date with you. and his second, and his third—his fourth, and he's keenly aware that his last fourth date ended with what he expects all dates are supposed to end with.

he takes you to the aquarium. because of all the fucking origami whale sharks. you still haven't given him one and it sticks in his craw like a bone. in front of the backlit tank that holds sharks of all types, shapes and sizes and teeth he's never pictured possible of a living creature before, he asks, "why sharks?"

you look at him, brow raised. "i don't know. they probably needed the biggest tank in the aquarium. and this looks like the biggest tank."

"no, dumbass—your sharks. the ones all over the fuckin' office."

"what, you don't like them?" you ask, but you're smiling, sly.

he shrugs. he thinks they're dumb as hell. he wants one to hang up at work, like the ones you've got hung up at your desk. "they're whatever. they clutter the fuck out of ei's office. and he's already got issues organizing." you've just made eijirou so many at his point, and it's getting ridiculous. "but what—are they easy to make, or something?"

you laugh a little. "no. not at all, actually." a whale shark swims by, its spotted hide shimmering in the tank's eerie blue lighting, and you watch it intently. "but it'd be boring if it was too easy."

this date ends with him walking you home from the aquarium a few blocks from your apartment and you smiling at him and telling him that you had a really great time, and he feels like a fucking freak because you don't even expect more. you don't wait for a kiss. don't look disappointed that he doesn't try to give you one. the way you look at him holds so much affection that he doesn't deserve and he has no idea how to reciprocate it to you, and somehow he lands on, "make me one."

"one what?" you ask, but he thinks you already know what he's asking. you like to play coy. he likes it when you play coy. when you're enjoying yourself.

"one of your little fuckin' paper things," he mutters, because admitting that he wants one of those dumbass sharks feels somehow demeaning. he doesn't want you to know how much he's wanted one. "ei's got a million of 'em."

your hand was on your door handle, but it falls to your side. he's keenly aware of its proximity to him. he doesn't feel that terrible ripping in his gut and its absence is almost frightening to him. your fingers tighten into a fist. it's cold out. "ah, and you're jealous?"

"no," he says, knee-jerk. "i just don't get why everyone gets one but me."

you smile when he says this and he could live in this image of you, delicate and small and made for him. he goes home and thinks about it until he falls asleep. thinks about it even beyond then, feels that strong breeze inside him tearing every leaf from its grounded perch.

here's the thing—nothing against jirou, but unlike his other fourth date, this one was enjoyable. more than. he loved watching you be amazed by the size of the whale sharks, and he loved watching you put a bunch of coins into the penny press and cranking the machine until one was squeezed out into the pattern you wanted, and he loved watching you lay your hand against the glass where the rubbery wings of a flood of stingrays battled for your attention, and—

he loved watching you. that's weird, right? he sounds like a fucking lunatic thinking that.

but he does. he hadn't realized until now how difficult it had been not only to touch people, but to look at them. maintaining eye contact, watching someone do a simple task out of interest instead of staring them down in an attempt to intimidate them. he's so much more fucked up than he thought but what makes it bearable is that he can do it with you. he can watch the way you enjoy things and feel like he's not intruding on something he shouldn't. without even trying, you make him feel welcome—wanted.

that's it. you make him feel wanted.

the realization affects him in a way he doesn't understand. at work the next day, when you smile at him over the top of the front desk, he feels something incredibly strong—something like instinct—that tells him to touch you. small. a thumb brushed across your cheek. his fingers grazing yours. he wants it in a way that can't be right because he's never wanted to touch someone like this.

he doesn't do it, but he thinks about it all day. your little smiles when you notice him watching you on your dates, the way your fingers graze your lips when you cover your laugh, the softness in the way you regard him. you're quiet, reserved, but when you laugh you laugh hard. he wants your soft, your quiet and your loud, he wants the feeling of your fingers on his lips, he wants your smallest smiles, all things he wishes he could fold up and keep and later display somewhere he can always see them. a school of paper fish, gaping mouths and drawn-on spots and such carefully pressed lines.

so on the eleventh date—(he knows it's ridiculous to count, but he's never spent this much time with one person before, not like this)—he reaches for your hand when you're walking alongside the bay, the air turning cold in the wake of the sunset that the two of you had just witnessed. that's romantic, you'd teased when he asked you to watch it with him. he'd rolled his eyes, shrugged you off.

but maybe he wanted it to be romantic. maybe he wanted to make this as normal as possible for you because nothing has been normal between the two of you so far.

you pull back when he reaches for you, as if on instinct. look up at him, confused, when he reaches out again. "katsuki..." you say, and it sounds as if he's done something wrong.

he tries not to let his brain spiral but thoughts drip inwards. water meeting a dented hull. what has he done this time? what else has he fucked up by being fundamentally wrong?

"you know..." you start, and you lose your words.

he thinks of kyoka, years ago. it's okay, you know. to not like it. he wonders if you'll still text him like she does.

your lips pull into a frown before you speak and katsuki can't breathe. "i was never gonna ask on my own because i know you don't like talking about things like this if you don't bring it up. but—um. katsuki—do you think i expect something from you?"

"huh?" he asks, dumb. breathing is still something he fails to do.

"i know that this is—different. i know you have some things going on that make the physical part hard for you." you look up at him so earnestly, and he loves looking at you. he loves looking at you and doesn't want to have to stop and he's worried that this is it. the moment he'll have to stop. you try to smile and it's small and he wants it all for himself. careful. delicate. secret, for him. "i'm not gonna lie to you. i don't know what a relationship without that kind of stuff looks like. but that doesn't mean i'm not willing to find out. it's—i don't need you to try to do something you think i want you to do."

"i'm not."

"it makes me feel a little sick, kat. honestly. it makes me feel like, i don't know—like i'm taking advantage of you, or something—"

"you're not."

"you don't have to do things like that to keep me around." you look flustered, eyes darting from his face to the skyline. "if you want me, i'm—you know."

it's okay, you know. "i don't know."

"i'm yours," you say, and cringe immediately at your words. "or like—i could be, you know, kind of whatever you wanted, if you—if that's what you want. would want."

katsuki can only remember a few times when his head was this quiet in the presence of someone else. when he trusted someone enough to let his mind go blank, to let himself act on instinct. "can i kiss you?"

you sigh. "this is what i was saying. i don't want you to—"

"no," he says, quiet, and he's closer to you than he's ever been. he likes the way you smell. he's not gonna apologize if that's weird. "i just want—god, i feel pathetic asking again. can i just—?"

just, just, just. just a touch, just a kiss, just a moment of your fucking time—it's all he wants. and he's never wanted like this. he's never trusted like this. his head has never quieted entirely because he's so sure that he's not going to disappoint you, or be something you don't actually want, or be wrong.

you've shown him that he can't be wrong with you, regardless of whether or not something within him is broken.

your lips are warm, a little chapped from the dry air, and he tries to remember what kissing chastely is but it's like something breaks in him further the second the two of you touch. his hands are cradling your face, his tongue is gliding against your tongue, his teeth are clacking against your teeth, and he knows the kiss is bad and wrong and messy but he suddenly needs it. he needs to feel you.

you make a noise against him and worry slices into his stomach before he realizes it's a quiet, breathy moan, and maybe you've been okay without the touch but that doesn't mean you don't enjoy it when you receive it. he can tell he hasn't made his boundaries clear enough—your hands circle his wrists, too cautious to go further, too hesitant to grip him like he thinks you want to. like he wants you to want to.

his teeth hit yours again and you laugh, and he pulls back, stomach tight. there's a hope in him that's ready to be torn.

you see it in his face—the fear. "i love kissing you," you blurt out, as if it's the only reassurance you can think of in the moment. "i mean—you're just." you laugh again, and he realizes it's nerves. you're just as nervous as he is. "can i—can we go somewhere warm? and maybe do this more? or—if this was enough—"

he's pulling you towards his apartment before you can get another word out.

kissing you is easy because you make him feel like it's relatively new for you as well. maybe that's how it feels for everyone every time, but he wouldn't know. he just feels comfortable with you. like you're not so much better than him, like you're not waiting to laugh at him when he fucks up, like you're touching him because you really want to.

so he takes you to his apartment and puts you on his couch and kisses you until your back is against the armrest and he's looming over you and you feel comfortable enough that your hands stray from his wrists to his shoulders to his hair and he didn't even know touching someone could feel like this.

put aside the fact that he's nearly finished in his fucking jeans three times just from your fingers running across his back, from the way you cup his cheek when he pulls back for air because he keeps forgetting to breathe—just having you close is intoxicating. he wants to bury his face in the curve of your shoulder, he wants to bite marks into your skin that'll stay vibrant for weeks, he wants to etch himself into you so deeply that he doesn't have to leave. these wants aren't even sexual—it's something about having you be his. i'm yours, you'd told him, and he hadn't even known that it would be exactly what he needed to hear.

he's in love with you, which isn't shocking to him, but he knows he shouldn't be in love with you yet because people that aren't fucked up in the head don't feel shit like this so quickly. he's not gonna tell you this for a very long time, but he knows—so completely and confidently—that he will reach a point when he can tell you.

"you sure you want this?" he asks, breathy, between kisses.

you stop kissing him, brows raised in surprise. "katsuki, we don't... this is a lot for one night. we can take it slow, still."

"that's—i'm not talking about that." he gives in, then—lets himself bury his face in the crook of your neck, lets himself breathe in deep, lets himself find your hands and intertwine your fingers, and you can probably feel that he's hard as fucking metal for you but that's not what's important right now. it sure as hell makes it awkward to try to have a serious conversation, though. "you sure you wanna deal with all... you know. my stuff."

"are you sure you wanna deal with all of my stuff?" you counter, and he pulls back to look at you. kissed rotten and smiling. "of course i want to deal with it. i like you."

and he likes you too. god, he likes you so fucking much.

the next morning, long after you've left for home, he finds a little orange whale shark hidden behind the alarm clock on his bedside table, stars in the place of eyes, and the trace of you is enough to make him feel warm. to hope that over time his apartment becomes full of the little paper creatures until his home is its own aquarium, until everywhere he looks is a memory of all you've brought him—pieces of you, perfectly arranged and delicately folded by your careful hands, much too gentle to tear.

[bell4lan]

hsjndjsndbdms i want to cream on neuvillette's hands so bad ngh

(transmasc reader pls)

The Host

Genre: Smut

DNI: NON MLM/NBLM, fujoshis, mlm/nblm fetishizers, trans fetishizers

CW: fingering, cunnilingus, squirting, sex work ig?, readers a bit hard on themself, t-dick, pussy, folds, hole, and cunt used to describe privates, weed mentions but its not relevant, i dont think any pronouns are used but masculine terms are

Character(s)/Reader: Giving Neuvillette x Receiving Transmasc Reader

News of there being a newly opened Host Club spread across your small town like wildfire. It reached the ears of everyone, no matter what age or gender, in just a few days. The news excited all of the horny and lonely college students in the area, your school included, so it wasn't a surprise that it was a huge success. The booths were always full of people, mostly women, blushing and drooling over the handsome hosts. Honestly, you didn't understand why the place was so popular. The whole concept seemed so sad and desperate.

"There's no way that's true Venti."

"I swear it is! Kazuha confirmed so himself, and you know he never lies." The raven haired man reasoned.

It's been 5 months since the club opened, and a new rumor has been spreading around your campus. The club not being open to minors after 10 o'clock due to alcoholic beverages being served was a commonly known rule. But now it is said that after that time not only do the menus change, but also the services they provide. Apparently, these services are more mature than the original ones. However, getting these services weren't as easy as walking in and saying "I'd like this please." Instead you must tell your host you want a specific item that is not on the menu and pay $120 to receive a ticket. This ticket allows you not one, but three passes for these services. Meaning you can use it three separate times on any service/host you want. Pretty cheap for what's being offered, but that just makes it more unbelievable.

"Kazuha was probably high out of his mind. There's no way the host club is allowing you to pay to sleep with their hosts." A sigh left your lips as you flipped the page of your textbook. The fact that Venti actually believed something so bizarre irritated you. Venti was by no means dumb, but his insistence on it being true was starting to make you question if he was. A host club offering sexual services that go as far as penetrative sex was laughable. There was no way that was possible or even legal.

"Weed doesn't affect people that way and you know it. C'mon, at least visit with me to test it out!" Venti spun the cheap office chair you were sat in so you were facing him.

"No. I'm not going to waste my time on testing something that isn't true. Especially something like that." You glared at him before spinning the chair back to it's original position so you could focus on your studies.

"Maybe finally getting something like that would make you less uptight." Venti teased. Without thinking, you picked up a highlighter and threw it at him, making him giggle. Yes, you were a virgin. A virgin with no sexual experience at all. However, it was your choice to be one. Your studies were far more important than having sex, so you do not care to do it. Or at least you tell yourself that.

"Do you even know the phrase you're supposed to say?" You asked as you wrote down some notes. Not that you cared about the phrase. You wouldn't go with him when he decides to test it. You didn't want to.

"Of course! Kazuha told me. All you have to ask for is a glaze lily cake topped with extra sugar." Venti explained as he plopped onto his bed.

"I thought it'd be something more...sexy." You confessed. A glaze lily cake topped with extra sugar sounds too pretty to be a code for something sexual.

"If it was it wouldn't be a secret. I take your interest in the phrase as consideration for going?" He said smugly as he stared at his phone. It's probably best to stop lying and just admit you want to go, but craving something like that makes you feel like a desperate, horny loser. However, you couldn't keep lying to yourself and saying you don't want sex. This could finally be the chance to get the edge off a little. To feel something from someone else for a change. You can't even keep track of how many times you've touched yourself to the thought of being filled or eaten out just this quarter. A defeated sigh left your lips as you set down your highlighter and turned to face your friend.

"I'll go." You mumbled. Venti smirked and laughed as he got up from bed. He placed his hands on your face to cup your cheeks.

"My little (Name) is all grown up." He faked a sniffle as spoke, earning an eye roll from you. How dramatic.

"Yeah yeah whatever. When will we be going?" You pulled his hands off your face and spun back around to your desk.

"Tonight! So prepare yourself (Name)." He winked at you before heading to the bathroom and shutting the door. Fuck. Tonight? It was only 4pm thankfully, so you had a lot of time to get ready both physically and mentally. You highly doubted this will go like Venti hopes it will, but what if it really is true? Would you go through with it? Would you really let a host touch you? Eat you? Fuck you? The thought of someone's cock stretching your cunt made a shiver go down your spine. How big are the hosts? Would they use protection, or fuck you raw? Perhaps you can choose. Would you want to get fucked raw? Would they cum inside if you asked? They're supposed to satisfy a customers wishes, so maybe they will.

You definitely will not finish your studies while thinking like this. So you packed up your materials and layed on your bed, staring up at the ceiling. You were not prepared for tonight.

The Host Club looked different at night, almost like a nightclub. The regular tables and chairs were cleared so there was room to dance to the upbeat pop music that blared on the speakers. Booths remained, but barely anyone was seated at them. They were all too busy dancing or flirting with the hosts. The bar was no longer a place for juices, teas, and lemonade, but instead was for all sorts of alcoholic drinks. You had never seen the place so lively before. As you observed the room, you noticed Kazuha sitting at a booth talking to a host. You couldn't see much of what happened as they spoke, but the host was soon leading Kazuha to a different area of the club. Fuck.

"Welcome gentlemen to the host club. My name is Neuvillette, and i'll be your host for tonight. Is there anything I can get you two started with?" You weren't expecting the host to be so breathtaking. He was tall with the most stunning muted purple eyes. His hair was long and white with streaks of blue. The man's voice and movements were so beautifully graceful it made you stare at him on awe. How was such a gorgeous man working at a host club? He should he a model.

"And for you sweetheart?" His deep voice brought you out of your thoughts. Venti was giggling as you stuttered out what drink you wanted to the gorgeous man. Neuvillette nodded as he wrote down your order before walking away to get the drinks.

"You were practically drooling over him (Name)." Venti laughed out once Neuvillette was out of earshot. You didn't even try to defend yourself and just looked at the floor.

It wasn't long before Neuvillette was back with your drinks. You avoided looking at him and mumbled a thank you before he walked away. Venti giggled even more at this as he sipped his drink, making you glare at him. You silently sipped your drank and thought, 'Please don't let the ticket thing be real.'

Venti told you all about what people have been saying about this place as you drank. A lot of it sounded like total bullshit which made you laugh. Soon enough you both were finished with your drinks, and Neuvillette was coming back over to check on you guys.

"Is there anything else I can get you gentlemen? Perhaps some refills?" The man asked with his clasped together in front of him. Venti glanced at you, hinting that it was finally time for the test. You sighed and tried to relax as your friend prepared to order.

"We'd like a gazy lily cake topped with extra sugar please." Neuvillette nodded and glanced over at you, waiting for you to confirm that's what you wanted. You nodded shyly, and he pulled out two tickets from his front pocket.

"That'll be $240, $120 per ticket." He explained. Holy shit this was real. What the fuck. What the fuck. Your mind raced as you pulled out your wallet and hesitantly handed him the cash after Venti gave him his money.

"Follow me." Neuvillette said before leading the both of you to the area you saw Kazuha go to earlier. He opened the door and held it open for you two to go inside. Through the door was a hallway with a bunch of doors in it, most of them closed. If you listened carefully, you could hear silent moans and pleas through some of them. Neuvillette showed you both a list of hosts to choose from this evening, along with services they could provide. The list was absolutely filthy. It ranged from things as tame as blowjobs to BDSM level stuff.

You scanned through the list of services and handsome men, thinking carefully of what to choose from. In all honesty you wanted Neuvillette, but that is so embarrassing to admit to him. You were broken out of your thoughts as you saw Venti hand his list back to Neuvillette. He had already chosen? Fuck. A few minutes later a tall man with long brown hair came up to Neuvillette and spoke to him. You didn't realize it was Venti's host until he started to lead him to the room they'd be using. Venti gave you a wink before following the host to a room at the far end of the hallway. Shit you really had to choose now.

"Uh, sorry for taking so long. Um..i'd like this." You pointed to the service on the sheet since you were far too flustered to say it out loud.

"It's alright. And what host would you like?" You could feel your heart pick up speed as you gathered the courage to request him.

"U-Um, i'd like you please." You mumbled. Luckily Neuvillette heard you so you didn't have to repeat yourself. He smiled gently at you before holding out his hand.

"Follow me sweetheart." You grabbed onto his hand and walked with him until he lead you to an unoccupied room. He held open the door for you so you could enter before him. Once you did, he closed the door and locked it so no hosts thought it was free to use. The room was dimly lit with fake candles and lamps. It had a large red carpet at the end of the oddly comfortable looking bed. There was a black couch to the left of the room, and to the right there was a large closet filled with what you could only assume were toys. Of course there were other decorations and tables in the room, but they weren't that noticeable in comparison.

"How would you like this to start darling?" Neuvillette asked, his low voice sending a tingle throughout your body.

"Can we kiss? Oh, and you can call me (Name)." Neuvillette nodded and wrapped his arm around your waist, the other going up to your chin.

"You have a beautiful name sweetheart." He whispered before pressing his lips against yours. Your heart skipped a beat as he kissed you gently. His lips were soft against yours with a hint of sweetness, it was nice. Almost refreshing to taste such sweetness from someone's lips. It was clear he has done this many times before. The way his tongue and lips moved made it obvious that he knew exactly how to make someone weak with just a kiss.

Neuvillette lead you over to the bed, careful to not let you stumble. Gently, he laid you down on it as you kissed. Your breath hitched as you felt his knee press between your thighs.

'Holy shit. Am I about to lose my virginity to a guy I paid to sleep with? Does it count if he doesn't use his dick? God i'm so pathetic.' You couldn't help but overthink as things progressed. Your brain was still having trouble processing what was about to happen. Okay yeah, this may not be the ideal way to have your first sexual experience with someone, but you sure as well weren't stopping now. Not when a positively gorgeous man was feeling you up as he licked inside your mouth. Not when his hands ran under your shirt and lightly brushed the area just above your aching cunt. You needed this. You weren't going to stop.

Your self deprecating thoughts instantly vanished as you felt his soft hand dip under your boxers and his finger glide through your folds up to your t-dick. Apparently you were so deep in putting yourself down that you didn't notice he had unbuttoned your pants. Neuvillette pulled away from the kiss and hovered over you, his finger still teasing your pussy.

"You're so wet (Name). I'm sure you don't want to soak your underwear, is that right?" He asked, his tone soft as though you were his lover. You nodded in response and felt as he carefully tugged off your pants and underwear, leaving you bare. Your legs tried to close on instinct, but Neuvillette made sure to catch them and spread you open for him.

"I almost wish you had requested or- pardon me. That was not appropriate." A light blush spread onto the gorgeous mans face. He hadn't meant to say that out loud. Even though he cut himself off before he could finish, you knew what he was going to say. He wants to give you head.

"Um...is it too late to request it as well?" You looked off to the side as you spoke, not daring to look him in the eye.

"Well...typically yes, but there are some...exceptions allowed depending on what host you're with." His hands grabbed onto your thighs and spread your legs wide apart so he could get a better look at your glistening cunt. "Thankfully, I am one of them."

You didn't think the man could get any hotter, but god you were wrong. Neuvillette looked absolutely stunning between your legs. He had pushed his hair back so it wouldn't get in the way as he ate you, giving you a better look at his face. Well, the top half at least, since the bottom half was currently stuffed between your legs licking at your cunt. When he first started, a shiver went down his spine and he groaned as he tasted you. It made you wonder if he wanted you, wanted your pussy. If he wanted to stuff you full. Your back arched as he licked and sucked at your folds and t-dick, occasionally dipping his tongue into your hole and sucking on it.

It didn't take long to make you close to finishing. It was embarrassing how fast it took, but you'd be surprised if anyone could last longer than 10 minutes with Neuvillettes tongue on them. You moaned out broken sentences to warn him, and before you could cum he pulled away. You whined and bucked your hips, getting frustrated at the lack of stimulation.

"Patience handsome, you'll get to cum soon. God I knew you'd taste good. I apologize for how unprofessional i'm being. For some reason I can't hold myself back with you." Neuvillettes face was close to yours as he spoke. You could clearly see your slick all over his face. If you weren't drenched before, you certainly are now. You whined and turned to the side, pouting at him with your legs still spread. The man wiped his mouth with a towel from the nightstand, and smiled at how flustered and needy you were.

Thankfully you didn't have to whine or beg any longer before he started touching you again, his finger sliding into your hole with ease. You gasped lightly at how deep it reached. His fingers were thin, but fuck they were long. You moaned softly as he thrusted his finger and added another. If your brain wasn't complete mush right now, you'd be embarrassed at how easily his fingers slid into your pussy. You were so drenched, there has to be a big wet spot on the sheets by now.

A third finger slipped in after a few minutes and you were at your limit. Lewd squelching and moans filled the room as Neuvillette pumped his fingers into you, curling up into that spot with every thrust. The concept of shame had completely gone and left you whining and moaning as if you weren't technically in a public space, and spreading your legs as far as they could go. You wanted him to see how wet you were for him, how good you took his fingers. You begged for Neuvillette to go faster. His fingers began to practically ram into you. It was slightly painfully, but fuck was it good. It was exactly what you needed to cum.

You opened your eyes and stuttered out his name before squirting all over his fingers. He kept thrusting them as you came, drawing out your orgasm as long as he could. The room spun as you came down from your high. His fingers eventually stopped and stilled inside you. You felt as his other hand brushed some hair out of your face and cupped your cheek. You stared at him, unable to speak as you tried to catch your breath. Neuvillette smiled down at you as you recovered. He stayed by your side until you were okay. Carefully, he pulled out his fingers and grabbed a towel and a cold water bottle from a mini fridge you hadn't noticed.

"Are you alright sweetheart?" He asked softly as he ran his clean hand through your hair and wiped some cum and sweat off of you with the towel in the other. You nodded, because that's all you could do. You had just experienced the most mind blowing orgasm of your life. There were no words to explain just how much better than alright you were. You felt so satisfied, so relaxed.

30 minutes passed before you both felt comfortable enough to clean up and get dressed again. Your face was burning as the realization of what you had done set in. You don't regret it, but you did regret being such a needy slut just from fingering. You couldn't help yourself. You needed this more than you had thought.

------------------------------------------------------

Omg...I....POSTED?!

Thank you guys for being so patient with me and apologies to the person who requested this in Oct 2023. Life has been rough but I'm trying to get back into writing since it is something I thoroughly enjoy. I cannot promise frequent posts, but I can promise that I am trying.

Thank you for reading! I'm a bit rusty since it's been a while. I hope you guys enjoy it. Apologies for any errors I didn't catch. :)

[studioeisa]

After MAMA awards I'M VERY PROUD OF MY BOYS and seeing Woozi crying, nooooo my mannnnn

So can I request Woozi or anyone after awards, all members celebrating with their partners hehe LOVE YOUUU!!!

PLEASE PLEASE 🛐🛐

🍑 i will really live the rest of my life repaying you.

you don't see seungcheol until the next day. such is the life of the general leader, it seems— the never-ending heralding, the non-stop worrying. he deals with his boys, first, then the fans, then the staff. but once that's all done, he's at your front door, collapsing into your arms before he's even past through the entryway. it doesn't matter how many awards its been. he is still overwhelmed by it every single time, and you are a soft place to land. he comes home to you and whispers the sweetest nothings in your hair. i'm so proud of them and they did so well and they're so happy. as he holds you tight— like you're the only thing keeping him upright— it's your turn to let him hear those words. i'm so proud of you. you did so well. you get to be happy, too.

the jeonghan on the other end of the video call has been quiet for the most part of the past half-hour. you'd be more worried if you hadn't already predicted where his solemness was coming from. "hannie? still with me?" you prompt gently, and he finally tears his gaze away from the ceiling to look back at you. "yeah. yeah, i'm with you," he answers. a beat. there are some things you no longer have to say out loud. how he wishes he was there. how he misses them and tries not to let it show. instead, you give him a reminder that's quiet and firm. "this is yours, too," you say. this award. this moment. these boys. all still his. there's a ghost of a smile on his face as he mumbles, "right. of course. how could i forget."

joshua likes keeping lists. a running one he has with you is that of gratitude, where the two of you try to end each day with acknowledgements of what you're grateful for. you're expecting a whole essay for him after tonight. he surprises you by keeping it short, sweet, and straight to the point. in no particular order, he types out into your shared note. music, the boys, you. hours later, he adds a footnote like it'd occurred to him as an afterthought: i'm always grateful for those three, but especially so today.

"look at them!" jun shrieks. his video call pixelates, either from spotty connection or his sudden burst of enthusiasm. you have half a mind to warn him that he may get a noise complaint again, but this time it'd be completely warranted. he's positively vibrating with excitement, his eyes glued to the livestream of his twelve brothers ascending the stage for their second award of the night. "look at them," he repeats, and this time his voice is more reverent than anything. you could comply, could do as he's asking, but your eyes are trained elsewhere. and look at you, too, you want to say. look at you and all that you've done to get this far.

even though it's been an exceptionally long day, soonyoung comes home brimming with adrenaline. he does dance routines in your living room. he jogs around your block until you beg him to just come back. he sings in the shower before collapsing onto the bed next to you, where he suddenly becomes boneless. the glow of pride stays even as the exhaustion hits. he pulls you against him and cuddles right into you. to soonyoung, this is as good as any trophy: the peace that comes with falling asleep next to you.

wonwoo has no destination in mind. he has a car with a full tank, and a playlist of all his favorite songs, and you in the passenger seat. that's more than enough. you pass through tunnels with warm lighting; expressways where he keeps the windows down so the wind will whip at your hair. occasionally, you'll stop to grab a snack or take a photo of something interesting on the side of the street. after hours of just going in circles, he'll ask, "should we keep driving?" even though he knows you'd never deny him this. this. his little celebration in the form of getting 'lost' with you.

nobody hears from jihoon for the next couple of days. the managers are worried, but the boys all just shake their heads and say that he's in good hands. which means: he's wherever you are. the two of you don't talk about his speech, about his public breakdown, because both things make him want to hide forever. instead— he sleeps in. he watches movies from months ago that he promised he'd get to. the two of you go on walks at night, and have breakfast at lunch time. the vicious cycle will soon have to begin again. jihoon knows that. but for a few, precious moments, his heart is not a heavy burden because it's safe and sound in your capable hands.

seokmin takes you on the textbook definition of your perfect date. a shopping spree? here's his black card. an amusement park? he'll rent out lotte world for the day, if he must. you're understandably baffled. he's the one who just won big, and yet you're the one being treated like royalty. try to resist and he'll only push back on you. seokmin already spoils you enough as is, but this is just a little more over-the-top than the day-to-day stuff. at the end of it all, his rationale is as sweet as it gets. "you keep me going," he tells you. "and so you deserve just as much credit as i do."

mingyu has always liked to celebrate with a meal. you'd expected his usual fare of some swanky restaurant or high-end café, but, this time, he asks for only free reign of your kitchen. he props his phone up against the salt shaker and pulls up a youtube video before flashing you his best 'just-trust-me' grin. your trust is not misplaced; the two of you do manage to bake the celebratory cake, though whether it's any good is an entirely different story. the end result doesn't matter as much as the process. mingyu is happiest about the flour marks on your cheeks, about the kisses he steals while you whisk eggs. it's not a birthday cake, but you light up a candle for him anyway. just for the hell of it. "make a wish," you tease. he's looking straight at you as he blows at the flame.

minghao asks for a beach day. the two of you set out for the nearest one. maybe the sand is a bit rocky; the shore, lacking in shells. he doesn't care. he only seeks out the sun beating on his back, the saltwater clinging to his skin, the first punch of air after emerging from the water. as the stolen weekend winds to a close, the two of you sit at the point where the water lap at your toes. neither of you have to speak. here, minghao lets the tide wash away the ache of homesickness. here, minghao redefines 'home' as a future with the boys of his youth, with the music that is as constant as the waves— and with you, of course.

the ferry ride to jeju is about four or so hours long, but seungkwan doesn't mind. there's just something so right about getting on the first vessel that will take him back where he has family waiting with a homecooked meal and a play-by-play of the award show. besides, the ferry means having four hours of uninterrupted leisure time with you. the pair of you literally have nowhere else to be except this boat and this point in time, which seungkwan is a little guilty to be so happy about. he's a glutton for your time and attention, and these ferry rides— these trips home— remind him just how much he likes taking the scenic route.

vernon treats it almost like it's just another day. almost. you're thrown off by his initial nonchalance, by the lack of utter fanfare in the way he asks you out to lunch and the two of you barely discuss the recent accolades. when you prompt him about it, you realize it's not because of arrogance or ignorance. "we're just doing what we always do," he says with an expression of mild confusion. winning?, you almost inquire half-jokingly, but that's only part of it. he elaborates, "we were just ourselves, y'know?"

when chan suggests a rage room, you're understandably confused. the wrath-based activity doesn't seem like the most optimal celebration, but you're not about to cramp his style. the two of you queue the angriest songs known to man before smashing some defunct appliances and throwing empty bottles against a wall. once your time is up, chan looks at you with that familiar spark of fire in his eyes. that dedication you fell in love with, that passion that has always burned bright. "again?" he asks, and you know it's not just the rage room that he's asking for.

[aliendes]

SVT Reaction to yelling at you for the first time/saying something hurtful pt. 2

a/n: ok here is pt. 2! i got a ton of asks/comments asking for a pt. 2 and honestly I kinda hate this. its totally unedited, as usual, and I really don't feel like I gave all of them justice. some of them feel kinda rushed, but anywayssssss, send me your others requests for SVT while I'm on this writing kick... hehehe.

w/c: 8,000~ sheeeeeesh

warnings: angsssssssssst, like a lot of angst, female reader (for a couple of the boys), pet names (good girl), hurt/comfort, mentions of previous slap and bruising, just overall angsty as per usual. no smut but this blog is 19+ MDNI as always.

Seungcheol (S.coups)

Just like Seungcheol promised, he stayed up against the wall by your bedroom door all night. He tried his best to fight sleep but eventually, his exhaustion got the better of him and he fell asleep sitting up, head dipped down so his chin touched his chest. 

When you finally decided you’d locked him out long enough, sometime in the middle of the night, you quietly exited your bedroom to find him in this state. A wave of guilt rushed through you at seeing him like this. He was probably exhausted from non-stop practice, and you knew he shouldn’t be sleeping in positions like this, his physiotherapist would probably kill him. But you also knew that you were incredibly hurt by his words and until he properly apologized you couldn’t allow yourself to feel that guilty. 

Instead of waking him up, you walked out to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. But the small noises of clinking glass and running water woke your boyfriend up from his slumber. Stumbling into the kitchen, one fist rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and the other massaging his knee, he found you standing there sipping from your glass, eyes red and swollen from crying. 

“Baby…” his voice was rough, you could tell he had been crying too and it made your heart clench. He took a few steps towards you and you didn’t resist, letting him get close. “Honey, I’m so sorry.” Seungcheol reached both his hands out to you but didn’t dare touch until he got your permission. That permission came in the form of you setting your glass down on the counter and opening your arms for him to fall into. 

The relief he felt was immense as he sunk into your embrace. “I’m so, so sorry baby,” he was sobbing without realizing it, soaking the front of your sleep shirt with salty tears, “I didn’t mean it, you know how much I love you and I c-can’t believe I s-said something like that to you.”

You hugged him closer as your own tears started to fall again. “It’s ok Cheol, I forgive you.” You whispered into his hair as you held him. His embrace was warm and felt like home and of course, you forgave him, he meant what he said, and you were his entire world, as he was yours. “I love you so much, Cheollie.”

“I love you, too, baby, please never leave me.”

Jeonghan 

It’s been three days and Jeonghan is losing his absolute mind. He has never gone more than a single day without some form of communication with you, and if your sister Nayeon hadn’t texted him yesterday to let him know you are in fact fine, he would’ve probably filed a police report by now.

He’s sent probably hundreds of texts and he calls you at least a few times a day. Each and every one has gone unanswered and Jeonghan just doesn’t know what to do with himself at this point. 

He had just gotten home from practice, as he was sent home early by Seungcheol, stating he ‘needed to take a breather’ after sulking around the practice room for hours on end. When he dropped his keys on the kitchen island he startled at the sight of you standing at the stove, stirring something in a pot.

“Lovey?” Jeonghan asked as you turned around to look at him. He sounded as if he didn’t really believe his eyes and thought maybe he was hallucinating you standing in your shared kitchen. “You - you’re home?”

You gave a tight-lipped smile and nodded twice before turning back around to finish whatever you were cooking. It smelled delicious and Jeonghan suddenly couldn’t remember the last time he ate. But that didn’t matter right now. You’re home.

“Baby, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean any of that, you know that right?” He asked, desperately, as he moved closer to you, reaching out like he wanted to give you a back hug. Any other time he would’ve been clinging to you as you cooked, but now he hesitated. Were you still upset? Of course, you were, how could he ever think you wouldn’t hate his guts after what he did. “Lovey, please… please look at me.” Jeonghan was on the verge of tears now, thoughts spiraling to all the worst-case scenarios. It was his sniffles that finally made you turn to face him, tears already falling from your own eyes.

“Hannie…” your voice was quiet and choked, and the look of exhaustion on your face broke Jeonghan’s heart even further. 

“Baby… can I please hold you? Please?” The tears were flowing freely now, he didn’t even bother to stop them. When you shyly nodded he wasted no time in scooping you up in his arms and placing you on the kitchen countertop, arms wrapped around your middle as he sobbed into your chest. You weren’t faring much better, arms wrapped tightly around his neck and you cried into his soft hair. “Please, pl-please don’t leave me. Please, lovey, I was so, so worried. I don’t know what to do without you, an-and I’m so fucking sorry, Y/N.”

“I know, Hannie. I know.”

“N-no, please. Let me make it up to you. I mean it, I don’t know what came over me, and I will spend forever making things right again.” All you could do was hold your boyfriend and nod, knowing that he would indeed keep this promise. 

Joshua

“Y/N! Wait!” Joshua snapped back to reality right away, watching as you rushed down the sidewalk back toward your workplace. He shut his car off quickly before grabbing his keys and phone and rushing out after you. “Y/N!”

He caught up to you quickly, you being much shorter than him, in a few long strides. He grabbed your elbow lightly, not allowing you to walk any further. “Baby, I know you’re upset. Fuck, I’m so sorry, but do not rush off, it’s not safe.”

You halted your steps but didn’t turn around to face your boyfriend. Tears were threatening to fall, but you held them back as you waited for him to continue. 

“F-fuck, Y/N. I’m sorry, I have no idea what just came over me. You are not a slut, and I don’t believe anything that just came out of my mouth, please baby, please believe me.” His grip loosened on your arm once he was sure you weren’t going to run again. “I know you’re mad, but please get back in the car, we can go home and you can scream at me all you want. But I want to make sure you’re safe.”

You finally turn to face Joshua as the tears started to fall. There weren’t too many people around, but it was enough to make your face heat with embarrassment, making Joshua’s heart shatter. On top of hurting you with his words you were embarrassed and it was all his fault. 

“Come on, sweetheart,” he urged gently, offering you his hand, which you reluctantly take. “Let’s talk about it on the way home.” You nodded and followed him back towards the car, allowing him to open the door for you and click your seatbelt into place before taking his place behind the wheel again. 

You wiped your tears with the sleeve of your sweater as Joshua began to drive. You mumbled something softly that Josh didn’t quite pick up. “Say that again, baby?” He looked over at you with soft eyes, waiting for you to repeat yourself.

“He’s gay.”

Joshua took a moment to realize what you were talking about before it clicked. Your coworker. The gay one who just got engaged to his fiance. Their wedding is this summer and you’ve been talking about it non-stop since he asked you to be in the wedding party. Joshua felt like the biggest idiot on the planet.

“Shit. Sweetheart, I knew that. Fucking hell I’m an idiot. I’m so fucking sorry, Y/N.” He ran one hand over his face, blinking rapidly to try and hold back his own tears of embarrassment now, not letting them fall so he could get you both home safe.

You wouldn’t look at him the rest of the ride home, but when you got home that night Joshua groveled and babied you until you forgave him for his shitty words. 

Jun

The next day, Jun kept the promise he made in the last voicemail he sent. He was on the first flight home after his schedules and the entire flight back to Korea he was wracking his brain with what he was going to say to fix this, if he even could fix this. The thought was tearing him apart. He did his best to sleep on the plane, but he couldn’t get his mind to stop picturing the worst case scenarios of you leaving him when he got home.

Once he was finally standing outside your shared apartment door, bouquet in hand, he knocked quickly three times, despite having the passcode. If you needed space, he was going to give that to you, his feelings be damned.

After a moment you opened the door, surprised to see your boyfriend holding a rather large bouquet of flowers, though you guess he did tell you he was coming home today in his voicemails. You almost felt guilty for making him come home a few days earlier than he should have, but that thought quickly evaporates when you remembered his words from last night.

“Why are you here?” You ask, not allowing him to pass you and enter your apartment, despite him also living there. You could tell Jun had been crying, you could tell he was miserable, and while you felt a pang of heartache for your usually loving boyfriend, you couldn’t help but feel some sort of satisfaction that he had been up all night crying just like you had. 

Junhui frowned at your words, but pushed the flowers towards you gently. “These are for you… and Y/N, please. I’m so sorry…” He was wearing the most forlorn look on his face as he stared down at his feet. 

You took pity on your boyfriend and took the flowers, turning on your heel to bring them into the kitchen, leaving the door open so he could finally come in. As you set the bouquet down on the countertop, you turned back to the doorway, watching as your boyfriend stayed standing outside, still staring at his feet. 

“Well, are you just gonna stand there, or come in?” You asked snippily.

Jun looked up at you, large doe eyes watering with unshed tears, before nodding and entering the apartment and softly closing the door behind him. He still couldn’t bare to look at your face and the remnants of dried tear tracks and puffy cheeks. He felt immeasurable guilt for the things he said last night and how he made you feel. So he continued staring down at the floor out of respect for you.

“Y/N, I hope you know I didn’t mean any of those things I said last night. I love you and your family so, so much. There is nowhere in this world I would rather be than with you, in your arms, making you the happiest person on the planet. I love your family, and one day I know they’ll be my family, too, so, of course, I love them, of course, I will do whatever it takes to make them happy too, because-” Jun let out a soft ‘oof’ when you collided with his chest, stunned for a moment before he gently closed his arms around your middle, resting his cheek on your soft hair. “I love you more than all the stars in the sky.”

You were sniffling now and Jun could tell you were on the verge of full-blown sobbing when you said with a watery voice, “And I love you more than all the fish in the sea.”

Soonyoung

When Soonyoung entered your darkened apartment, there was silence, and that scared him more than the noises you made when you ran out of the practice room. With his thoughts spiraling to all the worst-case scenarios of what could be happening, he quickly searched through your shared space, checking all the rooms and bathrooms to figure out where you were hiding. 

When he reached the guest bedroom, he heard it. A small sniffle and a gasp for air. Without thinking he launched himself onto the guest bed, thinking he’d find you, but you weren’t there. Looking around again, he finally spotted you, squished in between the corner wall and the old dresser you two had put in here last year. Your head was between your knees and you were attempting to take deep breaths, but he could tell it was futile. 

Rushing over to you he dropped to his knees, ignoring the pain in his knee caps as he did so, and reached out to put his hands on your shoulders. Your head shot up as if you hadn’t heard all the commotion before and stared up at your boyfriend with a red, puffy face, streaming with tears. The sight broke Soonyoung’s heart even further, but he needed to help you through this first and foremost. 

“Baby, I need you to breathe, ok? Can you do that for me?” You shook your head no, an action that he mirrored, “I know you’re upset, and you should be, but right now I’m more worried about your breathing. Ok, deep breath…” Soonyoung took an exaggerated deep breath in which you were reluctant to mirror, “C’mon baby, please breathe with me.” You could tell from your boyfriend’s tone that he was actually starting to get scared and in turn that scared you, so you followed along with his instructions. “There you go, good girl, again…”

After a few minutes of following Soonyoung’s deep breathing, your own started to even out, satisfying your boyfriend enough for him to properly sit down and pull you into his lap, cradling you like you were the most precious thing to him in that moment. As you started to move to get out of his embrace, his arms tightened slightly around you as he murmured into your hair, “Please… please baby, please don’t leave me.”

His panicked tone set you on edge again, having thought you were both calmed down from before, but clearly he needed this now. 

“Please…” he was sobbing into your hair, your shoulder, just trying to be as close to you as possible, even though he knew he didn’t deserve it. “I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so fucking sorry, please, please don’t leave.” He was begging now.

“Soon…” You whispered, taking one cheek in your hand and raising his face to meet your eyes. You could see the anguish there, he really thought you were about to leave him for good. “Soon, I’m not leaving. I’m just really upset with you, you said some cruel things to me.”

Soonyoung cleared his throat slightly, but the tears kept running, “And you should be! I was horrible, baby, and I’m so fucking sorry. I was in my head about practice and nothing going right today.”

“I can see that Soonyoung, but it doesn’t give you the right to treat me that way.”

“You’re right, I’m not making excuses. I was wrong, and if you’ll let me I will make it up to you, and prove to you it wont happen again. I love you so much, and all I want is to cherish you.”

You slid your hand down his cheek, his neck, his shoulder, until you wrapped both your arms around him, squeezing him tightly, which he returned without a second thought. “And I love you, too, Soonie.”

Wonwoo

Wonwoo had been knocking on your friend’s door for the last five minutes, he knew you were in there. You told him last night where you were going, but you hadn’t answered any of his calls or texts all night, finally prompting him to drive over here himself and make sure you were alright.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, Sunmi answered the door wearing a robe with her hair up in a towel. It was clear she had just showered and she looked like she was about to tear Wonwoo a new one, until she saw the crazed look in his eyes. 

“Wonwoo? What are you doing at my door at,” she looked behind her at her microwave clock, “6:53 am? Is it Y/N?” Now she was starting to panic, wondering why your boyfriend is at her apartment looking like he just went through hell and back.

“She’s not here?” Wonwoo’s eyes widened, “What do you mean she’s not here? She didn’t come over last night?” Sunmi shook her head, not understanding what Wonwoo meant. She talked to you yesterday, but made no plans to come over. “Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck!” Wonwoo ran both his hands through his hair and turned on his heel, running down the hallway of Sunmi’s apartment building. “Call me if she shows up, please!” He yelled over his shoulder, and all Sunmi could do was nod before he disappeared down the corridor. 

Now, Wonwoo was actually panicking. How could he let you go last night? What if something horrible happened to you? What if- he needed to find you. Now. 

Wonwoo started calling all of your friends, your brother, even his friends, to see if you were with any of them, only to be met with the same answer: No, they hadn’t seen or heard from you. Wonwoo walked through the streets near your shared apartment, every scenario of what could have happened to you running through his mind. The picture of you sitting somewhere, cold and sad with your duffle bag absolutely sends him spiraling. He’s calling your phone over and over, sending texts that are becoming more crazed as time goes on. 

Wonwoo is nearly home, resigned to finally calling your mother and the police, when he gets the text. 

From: Y/N  i’m home

Fuck. He shoved his phone in his pocket and started sprinting the rest of the way home, not taking even a moment to catch his breath before he’s bursting through the front door, finding you with your face in your hands, sitting on the couch of your shared living room. 

“Y/N, oh my God, Y/N…” Wonwoo dropped to his knees in front of you, reaching out and smoothing his hands over your shoulders, needing to feel that you were real, “Y/N are you ok? What happened, where were you?” Wonwoo we crying from relief at this point, trying, and failing to hold back his sobs. 

You sniffled again and finally pulled your head from your palms, looking at your boyfriend, who looked absolutely pitiful. You would’ve chuckled if the situation wasn’t so serious. His glasses were askew on his face, his bedhead sticking out in different places, and tears running down his face, making his eyes red and puffy. He looked like he fared no better than you last night and the thought made you feel better somehow. 

Wonwoo was still looking up at you expectantly, not bothering to wipe the tears from his face. “I was in the subway station.” Wonwoo furrowed his brow and reached out to grab your hands, you let him, knowing what he was doing.

“Your hands are freezing, Y/N.” Wonwoo reached up, brushing his knuckles lightly over your reddened cheek, “Shit. You’re burning up. You stayed down at the station? All night?”

You nodded, closing your eyes at the sensation of his cooler hand against your warm skin. 

Without asking, Wonwoo stood up and scooped you into his arms, bringing you to your shared bedroom and settling you comfortably on the mattress. He stripped your coat and shoes off before wrapping you in the warm duvet. He left momentarily to grab some medicines from the bathroom and make some hot tea. When he returned, you were curled in on yourself, sniffling and coughing from the cold Wonwoo presumed you had. 

Setting the tea and meds on the nightstand, he took a seat on the bed near your huddled form and rubbed his hand up and down what he assumed was your back. “I’m really sorry, you know. Like… I’m such an asshole. I didn’t even realize what I said until Cheol told me I was being a dick. Which I was.”

You let out a slight chuckle at that, which made Wonwoo smile. Maybe all wasn’t lost. His eyes softened as he watched you cough again. “I’m so, so sorry, love. You are my entire world and I’m so sorry I made you feel like that wasn’t true last night. I’m sorry you felt like you needed to get away from me and it got you sick.” A few more tears fell as he finished, “I hope you know I’m not letting you out of my sight until you're better. This is all my fault and I’m going to show you how much you mean to me if it’s the last thing I do.”

Wonwoo leaned over you, hugging you the best he could in your prone position. You turned onto your back slightly, reaching up and wrapping your arms loosely around your boyfriend's neck, hugging him back, and leaning your face into the crook of his neck. He placed light kisses all over the side of your face as he whispered into your ear, “I love you so much, Y/N. Always.”

Jihoon

Jihoon stayed in his studio that night, not having the balls to face you. Though he did send a few texts, updating you on what he was doing, asking if you were alright, and checking in throughout the night. All of which went unanswered.

When morning came, Jihoon couldn’t sit still any longer. He hardly got any work done throughout the night, which was the entire reason for your fight, which only made him feel even more guilty. So after he powered down his computer and locked up his studio, he headed down to the cafe to grab breakfast and coffees for you before heading home.

When he unlocked the front door and walked into shared apartment, he was shocked to see you still awake, working on something on your laptop as you sat on the floor of the living room, back against the sofa. If the bags under your eyes told Jihoon anything, it’s that you didn’t get any sleep either. He winced at the thought of you up and working all night, though he figured he deserved to feel the heavy guilt on his shoulders. 

When he approached you with a bag of food and coffee, you finally looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes. You could tell he felt miserable, his hair was sticking out in every direction as if he had run his hands through it all night, his glasses were smudged from his fingers pushing them up over and over, and he had what looked suspiciously like dried tear tracks on his cheeks. Jihoon set the bag and coffee down on the table before taking a seat next to you, his eyes never leaving your form.

“I brought breakfast.” Was the only thing he could think to say. Jihoon felt like such as idiot. “I didn’t expect you to be awake.”

You scoffed at that, looking away from him and back to your laptop. “Of course you didn’t. Apparently you don’t think I work very hard in the first place.” You slammed your laptop closed with a little too much force, making Jihoon jump slightly. He winced at his own words, going and fucking up again.

“Y/N…” he started, closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath, “I am so… so, so fucking sorry. I know how hard you work. I let my stress get the better of me and that is not an excuse. I fucked up. I know I did.”

“Yeah… you did, Jihoon. Coffee and breakfast isn’t going to fix this.”

“No, I know. I just wanted to make sure you ate, since you never let me know last night if you had dinner.” Jihoon put his head in his hands. “I have no idea why I said those things when you are the hardest working person I fucking know. I can’t take it back, but I will continue apologizing for it for as long as you’ll let me.”

You sighed, you knew Jihoon didn’t mean what he said. That didn’t mean it didn’t still hurt. But you could also see how sorry he was. Hell, the fact that he was home this early in the morning was testament to that. Deciding that you had forgiven him, but not wanting to make it too easy on him, you reached over the coffee table, grabbing the bag of pastries. 

“If it means I get breakfast every morning, I guess I can forgive you.” Jihoon looked up at you, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

“Whatever you want, baby.”

Seokmin

Seokmin had been at the dorms for approximately 20 minutes when he just couldn’t take it anymore. You had texted him to let him know to give you some space, and that you could talk tomorrow, but he just couldn’t take it anymore. He knew he fucked up bad, especially once he got to the dorms and Jeonghan had asked him what happened. When he explained it to his hyung, Jeonghan has scoffed and chewed him out for being such a dumbass, before he finally showed Seokmin that the website he was looking at was a fanmade troll website. 

Seokmin had never felt so guilty, so horrible in his entire life. You, the love of his life, his literal sunshine on a cloudy day, was hurt because of something he did, something he said, and he was really spiraling thinking about it. 

Without thinking too hard about it, he grabbed his things and left the dorm, ignoring Mingyu’s questioning shouts behind him. 

Seokmin ran all the way to your shared apartment, which wasn’t all that far from the dorms, but far enough that when he reached your front door he was winded. Pressing the passcode to the door, he fumbled a few times before he finally got it right and burst through the door.

He found you lying under the covers of your shared bed, quietly sobbing, and his heart shattered at the sight. “Baby….?”

You startled and sat up in bed, letting the duvet fall around you, not expecting Seokmin to be back so soon. “Seok?” Your voice was scratchy and it made Seokmin feel even worse. At this point, he wasn’t sure how much worse he could feel, but he knew he deserved every last ounce of the guilt he was feeling. 

“Fuck.. I’m so, so sorry, baby.” Seokmin stumbled his way over to the bed before resting both palms on in, not wanting to join you on the bed if he wasn’t wanted. “I couldn’t - I couldn’t stay at the dorms, I can’t be away from you right now. Fuck! I’m so stupid, I’m so, so fucking stupid!” He cried, not bothering to stop the tears now that you were in front of him.

Your face crumpled and your tears fell again, not wanting to see your usually upbeat boyfriend so distraught, despite him of being deserving of it. “Seok, it wasn’t real…”

“I know, I know, sweetheart. I’m such a dumbass for confronting you like that. I will never, ever forgive myself for the things I said to you. For making you feel like… like this.” He gestured at you wildly, not knowing fully how to convey his thoughts. “I… I talked with Jeonghan-hyung when I got to the dorms, he chewed me out,” Seokmin looked sheepish as he continued, “he showed me it was fake… baby, I’m so fucking sorry.”

“It’s okay, Seok… I understand, I would probably have reacted poorly too if I was-”

Seokmin violently shook his head, “No, no please, Y/N. Don’t let me off the hook that easily. How I reacted was wrong, so fucking wrong, and you don’t deserve that. Especially not from me. Please, please let me show you how sorry I am. I will prove to you that you are safe here, with me, and I will never, ever let my temper get the best of my like that again.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of your lips as you opened your arms for your boyfriend to fall into. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he tackled you back onto the soft pillows, kissing your cheeks, your nose, your eyes, everywhere he could reach, making you giggle. “Ok… ok, Seok. I believe you.”

He pulled away slightly to look into your eyes, his big brown orbs sparkled back at you, and all he could say in response was, “Thank you, baby.”

Mingyu

When you got to your brother’s house, Joshua immediately sat you down and made you explain everything. Through tears you explained how Mingyu had accused you and yelled at you, and how you were so confused at the text messages because you swear you didn’t send them to him. 

Joshua was livid, he was seeing red when he called Soonyoung over to his apartment and made him also explain what had happened. Through all your revelations it was discovered that you actually had sent those texts to Soonyoung, only you were drunk, and you thought Soonyoung was Mingyu. Apparently it happened last weekend when you were out with your friends for a bachelorette party and as stupid as you felt, as guilty as you felt for putting Soonyoung and now Mingyu is such an odd predicament, Mingyu was still out of line for the way he spoke to you and accused you.

Joshua helped you ice your back after Soonyoung left, wincing when you showed him the bruise that was forming there. It only fueled his anger further, making his decision to call Mingyu over final. Once Joshua had you comfortable in the guest bed, he called Mingyu to see what exactly was going through is head. 

Once he explained what had actually happened, Mingyu was in tears, sobbing to him over the phone, hiccuping and making it hard for Joshua to understand anything he was saying. Joshua asked Mingyu to come over but to stay quiet, as you were napping after the emotional afternoon you just had. Mingyu agreed and showed up not even 15 minutes later.

Joshua and Mingyu had a long discussion about how Mingyu should be treating you, with your boyfriend silently crying throughout the whole thing. Neither of them realized that you were in fact awake, and listening just around the corner from the living room. When Joshua and Mingyu were done talking, you came around the corner and immediately went and sat in Mingyu’s lap, hugging tightly around his neck. Mingyu was stunned for a second, but wrapped his strong arms around you just as tightly.

“Baby…” he whispered into your hair as he watched Joshua get up and leave the living room with a slight smile on his face. “I’m so sorry for reacting the way I did.”

“It’s fine, Gyu,” you sniffled as you pulled back to look him in the eyes, “It was all a stupid misunderstanding and I’m sorry, too, for sending those texts.”

“Hey, baby, no - don’t apologize. You thought you were texting me. It’s me who should be apologizing for how I treated you. And I am. I’m so fucking sorry, baby.” Mingyu cupped your cheek in his large hand, thumb running over the apple of your cheek to catch your tears. “You are my entire world.”

“I forgive you, Gyu.” You whisper as you lean down to kiss your pouty boyfriend. 

Minghao

Steeling himself, Minghao took a deep breath and walked back out into the kitchen. He knew that he needed to own up to how he just treated you, but honestly all he could think about the moment he sees you hyperventilating on the kitchen floor, is making sure you were safe. Pushing the fight and his need for apologies to thge back of his mind, he sunk down to his knees in front of you, putting one hand on your shoulder and the other on your cheek, bringing your face up to look at him.

“Y/N, look at me…” he said quietly, trying to keep his voice as calm as possible. You shook your head violently, trying to get away from him, “Hey. Hey hey, baby, it’s ok, you’re ok, we’re ok. I just need you to breathe Y/N.” Your boyfriend did his best to take some deep breaths, gently nudging your cheek again so you would look up into his eyes. You look so small and scared and even though his heart was breaking, he knew you needed him right now. “Deep breath, there you go. Good girl. Tell me five things you can see.”

You hiccupped when you tried to take a deep breath and Minghao made exaggerated motions with his chest to show you how to breathe. Once your breathing evened out a bit you started to mumble, looking anywhere that wasn’t him. “T-t-table… a- a mug.” You pointed weakly to the kitchen counter. Minghao didn’t need to look, didn’t care if you were right, just needed you to keep talking. 

You looked down at his hands, “Ring,” his eyes softened when you mentioned the team ring on his pinky and grabbed at his wrist. “Y-you.” 

“Who, Y/N?”

“H-Hao.”

“One more.”

You took another shaky breath in and looked around, “The p-plant.” You motioned with your eyes to the pothos plant sitting just above the kitchen sink. 

“Good. I’m right here, baby. I got you.” Minghao whispered as he moved to sit down right next to you, letting you hold onto his wrist still, he gently picked you up and moved you so you were situated on his lap. “Now, four things you can touch.”

You rested your head against his shoulder as you started to calm down. “Your hair,” you whispered as you ran your fingers through his long hair. “Your sweater,” you mumbled as your hand reached the soft material of his sweater. “My jeans,” you said as you shifted in Minghao’s lap and he chuckled softly knowing how much you hated wearing denim at home. 

“One more, baby.” He whispered softly into your ear. 

“Heartbeat…” you murmured quietly as your hand rested against his chest. Before he could continue with your calming techniques you cut him off. “I’m fine, Hao.” He wasn’t sure if he believed you, but he couldn’t hear the tremble in your voice anymore, so he chose to just hold you tightly.

After a moment of silence, Minghao whispered in your ear. “I am so, so incredibly sorry, my love. I’ve been stressed lately, and seeing you so stressed just freaked me out.” His voice was so soft like he was trying not to startle you. You nodded against his neck and he could feel the wetness from your remaining tears gathering near his collarbone. “I hate seeing you hurt, and I can’t believe I’m the one who hurt you this time.”

“You didn’t…” you trailed off, pulling back to look your boyfriend in the eye. He gave you a look that told you that was a lie, so you added, “I mean, not initially. Sometimes I just…. Get this way and I don’t know how to fix it.” You looked down at your hand still resting on Minghao’s chest and sniffled.

“That’s okay, my love. That’s why I’m here. I shouldn’t have yelled, I should’ve helped you in whatever way I could, and I am so sorry that I didn’t do that.”

You looked back up at his big brown orbs, noticing the wetness there. Minghao rarely cried, especially not in front of others, so without hesitation you wrapped your arms around his neck and buried your face in his hair. “I forgive you.”

“I promise you are safe with me.”

Seungkwan

When 3 a.m. hit Seungkwan couldn’t keep his cool any longer. He refused to go to sleep without speaking to you, regardless of how mean he was to you earlier, he wasn’t going to break the promise the both of you had made to each other. 

He had called you several times by now, but at this point, your phone was off. Either that or you blocked him, but he was refusing to believe that just yet. 

Grabbing his coat and keys, he made his way out of your apartment complex and started walking towards your best friend Minji’s house. It wasn’t too far from your shared place, and Seungkwan figured that would be the best place to start his search. 

While he walked he continued to try and call you in hopes that your phone would be on, or you unblocked him, he supposed, but each time it went straight to voicemail. As he rounded the corner to Minji’s complex, he saw a slumped-over figure sitting on the edge of a flower planter, and immediately he knew it was you.

You sat there, in the dark, slouched over with your elbows on your knees and your head in your hands. You were clearly shivering, having only been in your work clothes and light coat, only stockings covering your bare legs under your pencil skirt. Without hesitation Seungkwan ran over to you and crouched down so he was in your line of sight.

“Y/N?” His voice was so small and timid, so much unlike the tone he used with you on the phone earlier that it made you look up at him. His heart broke when he saw you were crying, probably had been crying his whole time and it truly made him hate himself in that moment. “Hey, baby,” he whispered, a light smile gracing his beautiful features when your eyes met his, “What are you doing out here all alone?”

“Seungkwan… why are you here?”

“I was worried about you. You didn’t come home…”

You scoffed and turned your head to look anywhere but at him. “You told me not to.” His heart sank to his feet at your words. Because yes, that is exactly what he told you earlier. 

“I am so sorry, Y/N. I don’t know what came over me, you know I can lose my temper sometimes, but… but that is no excuse!” He reached out and grabbed both your hands in his, wincing at how cold they were. “Baby, you’re going to get sick, please let me take you home?”

“Now you’re concerned? Earlier you didn’t want anything to do with me, but now you’re worried?” You scoffed again, pulling your hands from his grasp. 

“Sweetheart, please. You can yell and scream at me all you want when you’re home, and safe, and warm, okay?” Seungkwan looked up at you with pleading eyes and you finally, finally graced him with your gaze. It was hard, and sad, but at least you were looking at him. He tried his best for a smile again, but it came across more as a grimace as he watched your body shake from the cold. “Please, Y/N. I didn’t mean what I said earlier, it was said out of anger, but I’m not angry anymore. I’m worried about you. Please, let me take care of you and make up for my words.”

You looked at him now, really looked at him. His hair was mussed, his cheeks were red and puffy, and you could tell he hadn’t slept. “You haven’t slept?” You voiced your thoughts and he shook his head immediately. 

“We made a promise,” Seungkwan said softly, reaching for your hands again. This time you let him take them, “We never go to bed upset.”

The corner of your mouth quirked as you allowed your boyfriend to pull you up from the ledge you were sitting on, and wrapped his arms around you, pushing his face into your hair, kissing your ear before whispering, “I will never break that promise.”

Vernon

Vernon had been sulking all day, not just from his ruined lyrics, but from the way he had spoken to you this morning. Why did he have to take his anger out on you? It wasn’t even your fault, it was the cat’s fault, really. But getting mad at the cat wasn’t going to solve anything. No, if he wanted to fix this he needed to take responsibility for his actions.

He had left you alone all day, not wanting to bother you at work, but as soon as the clock reached 5:05 p.m., he called you, knowing you’d probably be on your way down from your office, heading to the bus stop. You picked up on the third ring.

“What do you want, Vern.” Your tone was sharp and he figured he definitely deserved it.

“Hey…” he started dumbly, “Can you - can you please come home?” His voice was tiny, so different from how it sounded earlier. It was like he was a pleading child asking for his mother to come home. It tugged at your heart strings hearing your usually confident boyfriend sound so small. 

“Are you sure?” You asked, voice still clipped. 

“Of course, Y/N. Actually, where are you? I’ll come get you.” Immediately Vernon was up and grabbing his keys and wallet. 

“I’m just outside work at the bus stop. You don’t-”

“I’ll be there in 10 minutes.” He didn’t give you a chance to finish your sentence, determined to make up for whatever he could. “Please, babe, let me do this.”

“Ok, Vernon.” You said as you hung up and waited at the bus stop for your boyfriend. He pulled up exactly 9 minutes later, having broken at least a few traffic laws to get to you. 

As soon as you got into the passenger seat of his car, he awkwardly leaned over the center console to wrap his arms around you. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.” You reached up your hands to lay over his arms, not wanting to ignore the comfort he was offering, not when you needed it so bad. 

You both stayed like that for a moment before Vernon finally pulled away, only to see you trying your damndest to fight the tears that were threatening to fall. “Oh, baby.” He whispered, reaching out and wiping the tears from your cheeks as they started to fall, “Please don’t cry, I’m not worth your tears. I’m so fucking sorry, you have no idea.”

You nodded your head and bit your lip, but Vernon was having none of it as he gently pried your bottom lip from your teeth with his thumb. “Don’t let me off the hook, what I said was awful. I was awful.”

“I understand, Vern.” You whispered, tears still falling, as you reached out to grab his hand. “I’m sorry I left the water out, I-”

Vernon shook his head, eyes closing as he felt another punch of guilt to his gut at what you were about to say. “Nope. No, don’t apologize. Not your fault, not even a little.”

“But-”

“Nope. Let’s go home and I’m going to show you exactly how sorry I am, babe.” You looked at him as he slowly sat back comfortably in the driver’s seat, not letting go of your hand, and started to drive. “You aren’t allowed to lift a finger for the rest of the day. And I don’t want to hear any apologies from you. I’m the sorry one.”

Chan

Chan listened to your quiet sobs for what felt like hours but realistically had only been about 30 minutes. He never left his spot right outside your bedroom door, not even to grab ice for his steadily bruising cheek. He didn’t care about the pain, he deserved it and more for what he had said to you.

Chan would spend the rest of his life groveling and making up for those words if you’d let him. He knows how wrong they were, how awful they sounded coming from someone who is supposed to love and protect you. Protect you from shit like that, but instead, he’s the one spewing it. 

After another few minutes, Chan couldn’t take it anymore and crawled over the the door, rasping his knuckles on the wood frame a few times. “Y/N?” he asked over your sobs. You quieted for a moment, letting Chan know you heard him, at least. “Y/N, I am so fucking sorry.” Chan finally let his tears fall, full force, as he continued to apologize. “J-just, please, let me in so I can make sure you’re okay, p-please.” He begged, still lightly knocking his knuckles onto the door. 

It took a few moments of silence before he heard the lock click. Immediately he was scrambling to stand up and open the door. He was expecting you to be standing there waiting to possibly slap him again, but instead, he stumbled over your hunched form on the floor, right next to the door. Catching himself before he could face plant, he quickly crouched down so he was at eye level with you.

“Baby…” his voice was distraught at the sight of you hunched over and sobbing. Sobbing because of him, his words. It broke his heart all over again. “Will you p-please come sit with me?” He asked, holding his hand out in offer for you to take. You stared at it for a moment before giving in and settling your hand in his, allowing him to pull you to standing. 

You didn’t look him in the eye, instead looking down at the floor as he led you over to the edge of the mattress and sat down. He wanted to pull you into his lap, but decided against it, opting instead to keep holding you hand as he spoke. 

“Y/N, I don’t even know how to explain myself. I can’t explain myself. What I said was so fucked up, that I wouldn’t blame you if you never forgive me. I wouldn’t blame you if you slap me again and leave me forever.” He sounded so distraught that you finally looked up at him, a small gasp leaving your lips at the sight of his bruised face.

He looked at you surprised, only to realize you were tearing up again at the sight of his face. “No, no Y/N, you didn’t hurt me, I swear. I deserved this, in fact, I deserve more,” he pleaded with you, not wanting you to feel guilty for the slap. “I promise, baby, I’m fine.”

You weren’t sure you totally believed him, but you nodded anyway, not really knowing what to say. 

“Can I please, please hold you? I know I don’t have the right, but-”

Before Chan could finish his sentence you had your arms around his neck. You could tell he was truly sorry for what he said. That didn’t mean you were going to forgive him right away, or possibly at all, for the awful way he treated you. But right now you both needed a little comfort before you had a serious discussion. You weren’t going to deny yourself of that, so you sunk into his arms as they wrapped around you, burying your face in his neck. 

“I don’t want to say I forgive you, Chan because I don’t know if I do, but I’m not leaving. I love you, Chan, and I know you didn’t really mean it.”

“You don’t have to forgive me,” he mumbled into your hair, “But I’m going to keep apologizing for the rest of our lives if you let me.”

[berritart]

thinking about shotgunning with abby for the first time #needthat

cw - oral (r!recieving), petnames (baby, angel, sweetheart), drug usage, afab reader, overstimulation ?? nawt proofread

you asked abby about smoking around a week and a half ago. she was shocked that her girlfriend would ever be interested weed. if she could recall you absolutely hated when she smoked around you. everytime you went to her place you begged her not to because of the smell. so what's the change of heart now.

"been rly stressed abs. isn't this shit supposed to help?" you point at her stash on her desk. "yeah why? don't tell me little miss i-hate-weed wants to start smoking."

"i mean it wouldn't hurt to try. finals and work been kicking my ass." you plop down onto her bed next to abby, turning to face her.

she already starts messaging her plug. "well i'm gonna be honest i dont want you buying from anyone. so ill buy it for you and test it out, see if its right for you. so maybe next week?" abby suggests.

"aw thank you baby." you whisper against her skin, nuzzling your head in the crook of her neck.

so that was a week ago.

you already requested off the next day, scared shitless you wouldn't even sober up by then.

you watch her intensively as she rolls and lights the blunt with ease. she has you in her lap, laughing at how you're so intrigued over the simple action. "what... stop laughing at me abs." you push her shoulder lightly, shuffling a little bit closer on her lap. abby reaches over for the lighter bringing it up to the blunt. "m not angel, just think it's cute how you're acting over this. here."

she hands you the blunt, placing it between your thumb and pointer fingertips. "just inhale it baby, not that hard." you place the blunt between your lips, taking a drag out of it slowly.

it's seconds after you break out in a coughing fit, gripping onto abby's shirt. you feel like you're about to die, your eyes watering and you start wheezing and coughing. "what the fuck. what am i doing wrong" you question, handing it back to abby. she takes a drag out of her wonky ass perfectly rolled blunt. no coughing, no wheezing, nothing.

"how about we try this. open your mouth." she takes another drag, watching your pretty little lips open wide for her. you close your eyes and abby blows smoke into you mouth. you inhale as she exhales, taking all of what she gives you.

when she finished shotgunning you, you definitely feel it a bit already but nothing crazy. "again abs." you whine loudly. "i like this more than doing it myself." abby takes another drag to blow in your mouth. how could she ever say no to you.

the blunt was completely finished. you being high revealed some things abby didn't even know. you're definitely not a lightweight shockingly and you get extremely horny when under the influence. so much she had to help her poor baby out.

"abs...slow d..down." you whine against one of the pillows on your girlfriend's bed. she's been lapping at your folds for about 30 minutes, not having the nerve to stop after orgasms. her strong arms were wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer everytime you tried to pull away. "mmm just one more please baby" she muffled against your glistening folds, the vibrations making you go utterly crazy.

it was too much. you probably have had three orgasms so far. abby still wanted more. she forgot all about the blunt you two shared almost an hour ago. she was high off your sweet cunt, intoxicated with how your body would squirm within her grasp. one after the other she did not give you a break. she just needed her gorgeous girl to give her one more.

"fuck fuck fuck i'm g-gonna-" you whimpered loudly, wandering hands finding its way to tug at her blonde roots.

"cum? c'mon angel give it to me." she borderline whined just now, her lips perfectly wrapped around your swollen cunt, sucking non stop. her thick fingers found its way inside you, making a slow scissoring motion. "baby- feels s-so good..." you weren't going to last any longer by the looks of it.

after a few more seconds of the constant sucking and fingering, your juices released all over your girlfriend's face and fingers. your back was arched off the bed, hands almost pulling abby's hair out. after catching your breath you looked down at her between your legs, scoffing at the grin on abby's face. "fuck baby, squirted all over my face too?" she chuckled, leaning her head against your thigh.

"when is gonna be our next session sweetheart?"

a/n - been watching tlou 2 gameplays i genuinely need her #bad

[octaneink]

Only the memories

Will Lenney x Fem!Reader

Next part: Confessions Summary : The reader looses something important, will she find it again? Warnings : mentioned death of a relative Notes : I don't know if I cooked? Writing this was hard because I kept crying and getting distracted. I feel like this could be better, but I don't know how to improve it?

Standing at the edge of the airport help desk, you look around in utter exhaustion. You have just been on an eighteen-hour non-stop flight with your carry-on and luggage. The densely populated terminal is a blur of non-stop new faces and continual movement, but all you can think about is finding your belongings and getting some much-needed rest.

You turn your head to look, catching movement in the corner of your eye as someone in a uniform walks up to you, “Good evening. I'm Sarah from Heathrow's baggage services.” She offers a sympathetic smile, but her eyes convey a hint of concern.

“I'm really sorry, but we have a situation with your luggage,” Sarah continues, her voice gentle. “Your bag did make it back to Heathrow, but,” she pauses, looking away briefly then back to you, “it appears to have gone missing from our facility. We've checked all possible locations, but we haven't been able to locate it.”

You feel a knot form in your stomach. “So it's just,” you gesture helplessly, “gone?” you ask, trying to keep your voice steady. You can feel the burn start behind your itchy, red-from-lack-of-sleep eyes. You blink back the tears.

Sarah nods, “I really do apologise for this inconvenience. We are conducting a thorough search and will do everything we can to find it. In the meantime, we'll assist you with any immediate needs and offer compensation for the lost items. Please come with me to our office so we can start the process and provide further support.”

She gestures behind you, into an unassuming door, leading you away from the chaos of the terminal, her assurances doing little to curb the panic you feel.

You read through the short paperwork, filling in your name, contact details, home address, and describing the bag and its contents. After visiting your home country, you had packed everything you wanted to remember into that one suitcase, including a small, metal biscuit tin filled with pictures of your grandparents and parents who had passed away during the pandemic. It was the last physical thing you had to your family, and now it was gone.

Lost in London Heathrow.

The longer you stay at the airport, the more you feel like its honest-to-god hell on Earth. Once that is all done, you manage to find your way back to your flat. Empty-handed and with a deep pit in your chest. Putting the key into the lock, you turn it, kick off your shoes, lock the door behind you, then head to your bedroom, where you face-plant on your bed.

You take a deep breath. Allow the dam to break. Then, sobbing uncontrollably, you turn to your side and hug yourself.

You allow yourself to do the most painful thing at that point—remember.

Four years have flown by since you lost your luggage at London Heathrow. Now, you find yourself on the set of WillNE's YouTube channel, three years in. The job brings you lots of laughter, chaos, and friendships with people you’d never thought you’d have. It has created a comforting pattern that you’ve grown to love.

Today, Will hired a set in London for two days. The set—from a certain point onwards—has white floors, walls, and ceilings. You are the first one on set, accepting the pallets that hold the luggage, and going inside to set up the temporary tables and cameras needed for the shoot.

First order of operation, you set out a line of slippers on the white floors for everyone, slip on a pair, and put your headset on. Head bopping and mouthing to the songs blaring in your headphones, you start to set up the tables, chairs and lay out the microphones for the shot. Leaving the cameras for Ieuan when he got there.

You then slip your shoes back on and start the task of setting up the one hundred luggage, it was a slow process, moving the luggage into the set, slowly creating a pile. Roughly quarter the way through, you stare at your sock clad feet and wonder if there was an easier way of doing this and hear the sound of the door opening. Ieuan, Will, Mikey, and James had arrived talking amongst themselves as they enter. 

You looked up after placing down the luggage you had in hand, and managed to catch the sight of the door close. “Mornin’ lads!” you greeted with an enthusiastic smile. 

“Morning!” the three greeted back, though Will had more enthusiasm, causing the two guys beside him to share a smile over Will’s head.

“I see you’ve started,” Will said, walking over to you on the carpet, then stopped as you waved your hand back and forth in a ‘no, no’ motion. 

“Shoes off on the white mister.” you said, pointing to your own shoe-less feet. 

His eyebrows scrunched together in confusion and James asked, “Have you been putting your shoes on and off when you stack the luggage in a pile?” you raised a brow at his sassy tone.

“Yes,” you nod your head, “how else would I make sure that the floor stayed white?” 

Will laughed, setting off the other two. His laugh was a slow, easy sound that crinkled the corners of his eyes, the kind that makes your own lips twitch upwards automatically in response. And your stomach do a backflip, landing with a giddy thud against your ribs. “You could have kept your shoes on, and we could have mopped up any scruff marks after you muppet.” Your smile dropped slightly.

“Fuck, you’re right.”

They laughed louder at that. 

Will, still grinning, jumped to the white floor then back with a dramatic sigh. “Oh, the humanity!” He gestured to the floor that now has slight stuff marks from the bottom of his shoes. “My precious, white floor. It's ruined! The set’s been violated!” Will dramatically stated, then crouched down and pretended to inspect the damage. He looked up at you, his eyes soft. “You're in so much trouble.”

You rolled your eyes and smiled softly at him. James smirked and wiggled his eyebrows, the smile dropped quickly on your face, and you flipped him off. “Real mature, James.” you muttered, turning back to Will, trying to hide the blush creeping up your neck. “Don't worry, Will,” you said with a reassuring pat on his shoulder. “I'll make sure this floor is spotless by the end of the day.”

Will looked up at you, a mischievous glint in his eye. “You better. Or I'll have to deduct it from your pay.”

James butted in, hip checking you “You’re getting paid? Favouritism.” James crossed his arms, raised a brow and smirked at Will “When will we get the same treatment?”

Will let out a fake laughing, clutching his stomach. “Pay? What pay? You think I can afford to pay you guys?”

Ieuan, who left to get more luggage, looked confused. “Wait, you're not paying us?”

Will shook his head. “Absolutely not. You're here for fun, right?”

Ieuan and James exchanged a look, then burst into laughter. “Right,” Ieuan said, shaking his head. “fun.”

You cut in “Alright, we’ll discuss the lack of pay during the union later. Lets get this pile sorted then we can start the video.”

Around an hour later, everything was set up, and they were ready to film. So you make yourself scarce and sit at the table off to the side, editing a video, with your headphones on. You don’t notice Will looking at you with soft eyes throughout the shoot. His gaze was soft, endearing, tracing the lines of your face, almost as if he wanted to memorise every curve. You're too focused on your screen to realise he's not looking at you as just an employee but as something more.

The day flew by. Between sorting the opened luggage, you managed to edit one video and make a decent start on another, by seven in the evening, your stomach was growling. Then, Will broke through your concentration by clapping, the sound echoed through the set. “Great job today, everyone! I’m happy to leave things be as they are and come back to do this all over again tomorrow. Make sure to get some rest, we’ll be back here bright and early!” He said cheerfully, though his eyes, despite the smile, looked tired.

You stretched, popping your back and cracking a wide yawn. “Alright, I'm out,” you announced, packing up your things. You looked up as you swung your bag over your shoulder, catching Will's eye. He offered a smile, his gaze lingering on your face a beat longer than necessary. “See you lads tomorrow! Bye.”

“See you.” Ieuan replied.

“See you later, boss lady!” James said with a grin, giving you a playful salute. You give him a sarcastic wave, heading to the door.

Will, his voice softer, added, “Get home safe.”

You couldn't help but smile at him, a warmth spreading through you. “Thanks, Will. See you tomorrow.”

The next morning, you arrived at the set with a sense of dread. You didn’t get much sleep that night, stupidly deciding to finish the video you started to edit. You ended up sleeping around two in the morning, then awake once again at six to get ready. The white floor, now marred with a few stubborn scuff marks, seemed to mock you. You moved through the motions of cleaning it up, your energy levels significantly lower than the previous day. By the time the boys arrived, you were already starting to regret not bringing a coffee.

The day dragged on in a haze. You looked up the props and location for the next video idea, calculating the costs and setting up the KPIs on Excel, with each item added to the Excel, your eyelids felt heavier with each passing minute. You even caught yourself yawning, covering your mouth with a hand. By the time they reached the third-to-last suitcase, you were ready to sleep for a week. You rubbed your eyes, the screen of your laptop blurring before you.

“Almost done’” you muttered to yourself, smiling as you noticed to see Will watching you. He looked tired too. He raised a brow, a silent, “You okay there?”

You smiled, giving him a thumbs up and mimicked wanting to sleep. He laughed under his breath and smiled.

James approached the table, lugging a small, unassuming white suitcase. “Oh, this one's small so it's gonna be fake.” he declared, Mikey and Will nodded and watched James zip it open. Inside, nestled amongst the soft lining, lay a single fluffy blanket. “That's it?” Will asked, confused.

James furrowed his eyebrows and asked, “Wot?” Mikey, defeated from the long days of shooting, tugged at the blanket. It provided more resistance than he expected, after one last hard tug, it released. Photos erupted from the suitcase, scattering across the floor like confetti.

Will and James stared in disbelief. “What the…” Will exclaimed.

“Holy cow, it's a photo album!” Mikey yelled, pointing the go-pro to the floors of scattered pictures, the blanket still in his other hand.

James knelt down, sifting through the photos. He pulled out an A4 size envelope buried under the pile, opening it and peeking inside. He pulled the pile out and said, “Oh, it's letters.” James put it on the table, spreading it out, “It's not in English. But it looks like it's addressed to someone called,” James said your name, so you look up with a raised brow.

Mikey and Will flipped through the photos on the floor, eyes widening at each one. Childhood pictures, family gatherings, birthday celebrations. They recognised you in some photos, your younger self beaming with joy.

Will holds up a picture of you beaming, holding the blanket in the luggage with a peace sign to the camera, “Hey, isn't that you?”

They all looked up at you, but you didn’t react. Everything went still. 

You walked up to the floor with the scattered pictures, your hand trembled as you reached out to touch the photos, the reality sinking in. You knelt down, your heart pounding. It was your childhood pictures, the one you thought had been lost forever. The letters — they were from your grandparents, letters you never received. This was your luggage. Somehow, it had found its way here, to the last place you ever expected to see it again.

“What are the odds?” you whispered, your voice trembling. Your eyes filled with tears, you pick one up of the five of you, and stood up, needing a moment to compose yourself. “Excuse me for a minute.” And head out the door. 

You stumbled out of the building in the back, tears streaming down your face. You clutched the photo to your chest. You remembered this photo, taken on your fifth birthday. You remember the joy on your parents face, their laughter. You remember your grandparents, their warm hugs, their gentle voices.

You slid down against the wall, burying your face in your hands. You startle when you feel a warm hand on your shoulder, you look up. It’s Will.

He looks concerned. "Hey, are you okay?" he asks softly.

You manage a weak smile, shaking your head. “I just…” you trail off, unable to find the words.

Will doesn't press you. He sits down beside you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, his thumb rubbed circles around the top of your shoulder, remaining silent, simply offering his presence. You take a deep breath, the sobs subsiding slightly.

“It's just…” you begin, your voice thick with emotion, “I thought I'd lost these forever. I already forgot what they sound like, I was worried I’d forget what they look like.”

Will nods understandingly. “I can imagine.”

You look at him through blurry eyes, eternally grateful for this coincidence. It would have never been given back to you if Will had never decided to do this video. You tell him about losing the luggage, about the grief and the memories, about the letters you never received, the love you never got to fully show.

When you finally finish, a comfortable silence settles between you. Will doesn't say anything, but his hand remains on your shoulder, a silent gesture of comfort. You look at him, a small smile gracing your lips. “Thank you.” you say, your voice soft.

Will smiles back, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Anytime.”

You wipe your eyes, “Go back in,” you pat his knee, “I’ll stay out a bit more.” 

Will hesitated, his eyes searching yours. "Are you sure?"

You shook your head, a small smile playing on your lips. "Yea, I think I need a few more minutes here."

He nodded, his gaze lingering on your face. "Okay. But don't be too long, you’ll get cold." He got up off the floor, and as he did, he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. 

You blinked, surprised by his gesture. He just smiled, eyes soft, before turning and heading back inside. You watched him go, his figure disappearing back into the building. You touched your forehead, a blush creeping up your neck.

You took a deep breath, the fresh air doing wonders to clear your head. You looked at the photo in your hand, staring at it blankly.

You spent the next few minutes simply sitting there, the photo clutched in your hand. You thought about your grandparents, about the love they had shown you, the love that still lingered in these faded photographs and the faded ink of the letters. You thought about Will, his kindness, his unexpected gentleness, and the soft kiss that still lingered on your forehead.

What do we think? Do you see bits where I can improve? Also, this is the first time that I've really written dialouge, I'm not sure if it was realistic to the persons? 🤔

Also, I did end up loosing pictures of my grandparents... so this hit hard, I wish it went something like this.

[flemingology]

christmas request! a day out with alessia at winter wonderland. super fluffy. you go ice skating, go on the ferris wheel, get hot chocolates, even win her a bear at a fairground booth!

winter wonderland ─ alessia russo x reader

in which: you and alessia have a christmas-themed date night

warnings: none

wc: 1.6k

a/n: changed the request up a little bit (basically just who receives the bear lol.), hope you still like it!

You'd been looking forward to this night for the whole week. Your hectic schedule had meant you and Alessia hadn't gone out for a proper date in weeks, but the second you realized that you'd have the 22nd of December off, you circled it with red on the calendar in your home office. Date night. And nothing would come between it.

As a heart surgeon, your working hours were very irregular. Your girlfriend and you had managed to work around your respectively busy schedules, always making sure that you made time for one another wherever you could, but some periods were worse than others. You'd been working non-stop for the past three weeks, up before dawn and not home before sunset. It was starting to take its toll on you, and Alessia didn't fail to notice either.

She was usually quite busy herself, but with the winter break in full flow, she had more time to think about things. More time to notice things. She saw how your shoulders slagged when you came home from work past 9pm again, how getting out of bed became more and more of a struggle with each passing day, how you started needing two coffees instead of one to wake yourself up. She noticed how tired you were.

The two of you sat down on the couch one night, and she brought it up. She tentatively brushed the topic, unsure whether this was something you wanted to talk about, but soon enough you let your emotions flow and Alessia held you until you had calmed down enough to have a conversation about. You felt drained, really, and you wanted nothing more than to recharge in the arms of your lover. That night, Alessia promised you that she'd set up a date night for the two of you in the near future. And when the opportunity came around to do it on Sunday the 22nd, neither of you were even thinking about anything else but a night out.

You got ready in the bedroom, humming along to a song Alessia was playing on her speaker in the bathroom. Your girlfriend emerged a couple minutes later, and crossed the bedroom in a quick few strides. "You ready?" Alessia's eyes lit up and you felt a warm feeling of gratitude well up for the woman in front of you. No matter how busy it got, how rocky life would be, she was always there. Like a rock. Alessia always knew exactly what you needed, and you were so excited for your night out together. "Yeah, let's go." You grabbed her hand in yours and you made your way downstairs, locking up your apartment behind you and getting in the car.

Alessia expertly navigated the streets of London towards the Christmas fair. You parked the car up a couple blocks away, not wanting to deal with the struggle of trying to find parking closer by. You hooked your arm through your girlfriends, talking about everything and nothing as you strolled through the streets of London, making your way over to the fair.

The streets were busy, bustling with people wanting to soak up the Christmas atmosphere in the British capitol. It made you feel warm inside, a stark contrast to the icy temperatures outside. "God, it's cold." Alessia seemed to read your mind. "Yeah, I'm grateful for my hat and gloves." You chuckled, before an idea came to mind as you saw a hot drinks stall. "You wanna get a hot chocolate?" Alessia's eyes lit up as she met yours. "You know just how to make a girl happy."

Alessia and you walked around the fair for what felt like ages. You could feel the stress of the past couple weeks falling from your shoulders with each passing minute. This had been exactly what you needed, and you were so grateful to your girlfriend for organizing this for the both of you.

"Oh my God, babe," Alessia's voice pulled you out of your thoughts, her finger pointing to a small rifle range. "Look at their prizes." You looked up and saw a couple big teddy bears hanging from the roof of the stall. "You wanna go play?" You asked your girlfriend, giving her hand a little squeeze as she nodded eagerly.

Of course she won you the bear. In typical Alessia fashion, stealing the show as she hit every single one of the 40 bullets she had bought. "Here, for you." Alessia beamed as she took the bear from the man behind the counter and stretched it out towards you. "Thank you, my love." You took the bear from her and pressed a sweet kiss against her lips, placing your unoccupied hand on the back of her neck as she tried to pull away. You pulled her back into you and kissed her again, trying to pour all the love you had for her into the kiss. "Thank you for this. For tonight. I needed this," you whispered as you pressed your forehead against hers. "Anything for you." The teddy was almost as tall as you, and you were slightly struggling to carry it with you. Alessia picked up on it and took it from you, putting it on her shoulders, holding the bear up with one hand and holding yours with the other.

The next thing you found yourself wanting to try was the ferris wheel, although you had a slight feeling that your girlfriend would be wary of getting on. "Less," you started, drawing out her name a little as she cocked an eyebrow at you. "You wanna go on the ferris wheel?" You tried, a slight smile tugging at your lips, one you knew she'd find hard to resist. You didn't miss the groan that escaped her lips upon your question. She cocked an eyebrow at you. "Do we have to?" You chuckled and squeezed her hand that was holding yours.

"Please? For me?" "Ugh. Fine." "You're too easy, Russo." "Shut it or I'm throwing you off when we reach the top." "Empty threats, love. We all know that."

Alessia clung to your side the entire ride, clutching your hand in hers as your carriage started to reach the top. "I genuinely don't understand why people willingly go on things like this. What if something goes wrong and you just... fall?" You didn't want to ridicule your girlfriend, but you couldn't hold back the scoff that escaped your lips, to which you received a glare in response. "The odds for that happening are ridiculously low, love. It's not an irrational fear, but it's not gonna happen. Look, we're almost back down." Alessia felt a little guilty that her apprehension stopped you from enjoying the ride, but a quick few pecks and reassuring whispers meant for her and her only got her back feeling okay.

You strolled a little further, and as much as you were bundled up, the cold icy night was finding its way through your layers of clothes and started crawling across your body. Alessia noticed you were shivering and pulled you closer into her, wrapping her arm around your shoulders and clutching you tight against her body. You wrapped your arm around her midsection and were grateful for the warmth that still seemed to come from her body, the striker never having a cold bone in her body meaning you could always warm yourself up on her.

"You wanna get a hot chocolate? Maybe it'll help with the cold." You and Alessia had arrived at a hot drinks stall and she couldn't resist the smell of the fresh hot chocolate. You agreed, and soon you were both walking hand in hand, the two of you holding a hot chocolate in your unoccupied hand. It was glorious, really, a nice big steaming cup of hot chocolate with little marhsmallows on top. It warmed you up a little, easing the nagging feeling of the cold wind that still nipped at every sliver of skin it came across.

Your fingers and nose were red from the cold and your teeth were slightly chattering, but you wouldn't have wanted to be anywhere else right now. Your girlfriend's hand clutched tight in yours, talking about everything and nothing as you strolled to London's Christmas fair. The Christmas joy cheered you up and helped ease away the last of your worries of how busy work had been the past couple weeks. You needed this, and just as always, Alessia knew.

You didn't stay much longer after having drank your hot chocolates, the cold starting to get a little too much for the two of you. So you drove home and settled on the couch together, a fuzzy blanket draped over your entangled bodies and a show on the tv that was more background noise than anything else. Alessia ran a comforting hand through your hair and rested her other one comfortably on the small of your back, pressing soft kisses against your crown as you slowly but surely eased off into a peaceful slumber on your girlfriend's chest.

Just before you fell asleep, though, you could hear a faint whisper coming from the woman underneath you. "I love you, darling." Alessia thought you were asleep, so was surprised to hear you reply. "Right back at you, love. Thank you for tonight." You accentuated your words with a firm kiss against her chest, right where your head was resting.

No matter how busy work would get, as long as you had your blonde lover to come home to and wrap your arms around, you felt like you could take on the whole world.

[arcanewhoosh]

The Bolter

2.2k words

Proofread? Y/N

TW: Minor descriptions of injuries

Arcane Series Finale spoilers

In the aftermath of the Battle of Piltover, you find yourself desperately clinging to a toy monkey head with nails hammered into it.

If you were to ask the regular citizens of Piltover and Zaun, the regular duration of a search and rescue mission is around seven days. While this was, in a way, correct, it would only reach that many days if there was enough proof that the missing person was alive.

Standard operating procedure only allows a max of fifty-one hours.

You've been searching for nine days, fifteen hours, and twenty-seven minutes.

We don't have the resources right now, there's been too many casualties.

Alone.

There’re too many places to look through. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have put the thought in your head-

Through every single cooling duct leading into the Hex Gate.

-the fuse assembly could've survived by other means.

"I have to try, Cait." You say as you put on your pack, loaded with first aid supplies and recovery equipment. Caitlyn moves to grab your arm. Her grip firm, but she's not holding you in any way that could actually prevent you from leaving. You still stop and wait for her to finish what she wants to say.

"It's been over a week. You've barely slept the entire time, and I can't keep changing the subject when Vi asks me where you've gone." She tugs at your arm lightly, willing you to sit down on a nearby chair.

It had been ten days since the end of the battle. Ten days since Piltover and Zaun almost met their demise. Ten days since so many lives were lost; all for power.

Vi was -is- a mess. She could barely pull herself up from the ledge you fished her out of back at the top of the tower. Dread had already begun to creep its way across your body as you made your way up to where Jinx and Ekko's balloon had crashed. The feeling only got worse as you climbed higher, seeing no signs of its three occupants. You started running faster up steps, climbing ladders with speed you never thought possible for you. For a moment the dread had ceded, your adrenaline taking over. But then there was the explosion. And then... And then eventually you heard Vi's cries.

Your body stiffens as you shut your eyes, willing the memory away. "You're gonna have to cover for me a bit longer, Cait." You say as you softly pry your arm free of her grasp. "With how loud that explosion was, there's no way the assembly could've just survived."

"If it was anyone else, maybe I would've stopped searching already. But you and I both know this isn't just anyone else, no matter which side you're on." Caitlyn looks at you for a few moments, you know well enough that she's already wavering in her previous attempt to dissuade you.

"You wouldn't have mentioned it at all if you didn't think-"

"I know, I know." She finally says. "I wouldn't have given you the schematics for the structure either."

She sighs, an all too familiar indicator that you've won. "Just... Don't push yourself too much. I know I'm the one that gave you hope that she survived, but at some point..." She trails off. You know she wants to say that she doesn't want you to have your hopes crushed, or to put yourself in unnecessary danger. Especially since the inner ducts have been unstable since the explosion.

"I promise, I'll be careful, Cait. You know me." You shrug and smile at her, hoping that the nonchalant display is enough to convince her that you aren't fatigued out of your mind.

The look on her face says she doesn't buy it. But she says nothing about her doubts, instead nodding your way. "Be careful, I'm holding you to that."

"I will."

"Fucking air vents." You curse as you drop your pack by the wall of the duct. The thump it makes echoing around the cavernous tunnel. You've been walking uphill to get back up to the entrance, but the strain from working non-stop for over a week, the sleep deprivation, and the mental exhaustion was bound to catch up. Maybe Cait was onto something with the whole resting thing.

You let out a huff at the thought. You didn't have time to rest, what if Jinx was somewhere hurt, with no one around- she'd find a way to pull herself out of here and escape-- or what if she was trapped somewhere -this is my second sweep of the vents and all the obstructed entrances have been cleared- You lean against the tunnel wall before slumping gingerly to the ground. Your ankle hadn't fully healed from the battle, and you still had bandages all over your midsection from injuries you sustained.

You take a few steadying breaths before pulling out a map of the vents, marking the sections you've done your sweep of. Your vision swims for a moment, and it's enough for you to shut the map and lean you head against the wall. You close your eyes and steady your breathing, willing yourself to hold it together.

You're no use to me dead. She would say right about now. I'm still alive and you still say I'm useless. You'd reply.

"Yeah, but I say it lovingly." She harks back from her chair, tinkering away at her robot bug thing that she and Isha were using for their little fight club. You turn from the pin board you were making- places in Zaun where new checkpoints had been placed. You drop the purple pen you were using-Isha had stolen the red marker you usually use-- to write and make your way over to Jinx.

"Lovingly?" You ask as you turn her chair around, a grin plastered on your face. She rolls her eyes, but her own smile betrays her attempt at brushing you off. "Don't think too hard about it, you might hurt yourself."

"Looks like you've been the one thinking about it." She scoffs at you, turning her chair back to face her work station. Though she doesn't turn fast enough for the pink dusting her cheeks to escape your notice. "I said don't think too much about it."

"Hey." You say softly, turning her chair around again and pulling up a chair for yourself so you were eye-level. She's pouting, so you know you're not in trouble. "I'm sorry for teasing." You take her left hand and place a kiss on her knuckles. She makes a face.

"Ew, don't kiss my hands, they're covered in grease."

"When are they not covered in grease?"

"Didn't you just apologize for teasing?"

"I'm sorry for teasing, again."

"You're lucky-" She clamps her mouth shut. You bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from grinning again. The last thing you want is for her to close herself off. You know she's being careful. For someone known to be completely reckless at spontaneous times, she could be just as calculating and reserved. She's slipped a few times already, not explicitly saying I love you, but accidentally implying it or using some variation of the word during a casual conversation. You're no better, but so far, you've been able to avoid slipping.

Maybe you both thought it was too soon to say. Three or four months of you acknowledging that there was something between the two of you might be too soon, but there was a revolution going on, and revolutions are rarely peaceful and without casualties. Who knows what might happen in a few months, weeks, days, or hours. But you don't know what the next few weeks have in store for you.

"I know I'm lucky." You say. Hoping that the implication of, I know I'm lucky you love me, is enough.

But it wasn't, and now I'm here.

You jolt forward, blinking a few times to clear your blurry vision. Had you dozed off? For how long?

You sigh and rub your face with your hands. You do need rest, just for a little bit, then you'd get back to searching for her. You're no use to her dead, after all.

The walk back to your apartment is agonizing. The second you decided that it was time to take a break, your whole body decided that it was the best time for you to feel your exhaustion in its entirety. Your pack was suddenly heavier, your ankle decided to start swelling, and the wound on your side thought it was the perfect time to start bleeding again. Despite your body's attempt to suddenly render you immobile, you're able to meander back to your door after a horrible confrontation with five flights of stairs. Damn that faulty elevator.

You decide that having a view from your balcony isn't really all that worth it as you jam your keys into the lock and make your way inside. You stop dead in your tracks as soon as you pass through the door. The lock never clicked open.

You draw your pistol quietly, and scan the open living room and kitchen area of your home. Deeming the areas clear, you start making your way towards the hallway leading to your bedroom, pistol aimed and ready. Who on the Runeterra's green earth would be targeting you? Leftover Noxians? No. Turn coats like Maddie? Unlikely. Someone from the Undercity with a grudge? Unless they figured out who I am, I doubt it.

You hear a creaking sound from a door to your left, and you quickly kick it open and aim your pistol at the intruder.

"Jeez, you'd think a girl would get a warmer welcome after coming back from the dead." The intruder says, leaning back on a chair and idly scanning a vinyl.

You stare, dumbfounded. A part of you fully believing you've started hallucinating from the exhaustion, or the blood loss, you're not sure anymore. Your intruder, however, seemed to find your predicament funny.

"What, got nothing to say to me?" She asks. She finally turns to look at you, but the grin she puts on quickly falters when she notices the blood from your reopened wound seeping through your uniform. And then she's in front of you, one hand cupping the side of your face, the other hovering just above spots of blood on your shirt.

She asks if you're okay, but you're not sure. You still haven't confirmed whether on not you're hallucinating. So you do the only logical thing in the world and wrap your arms around her.

"Jinx?" Your voice cracks as you utter her name, and you wait. Wait for her to disappear, for your tired mind to catch up and be able to distinguish what is real and what isn't, because a part of you was only ever really using the tunnel search as a coping mechanism and that-

"I'm here, it's okay." She says as she wraps her arms around you and returns your embrace. If it were any other day, it would be you comforting her, offering her words of reassurance, support, affirmation. But this isn't any other day. Because you thought for the last ten days, twenty-three hours, and eight minutes, that she had died in an explosion.

But she didn't, and now you're sure that she's alive, that she's here, and alive, and breathing and-

"I love you." The words spill out of your mouth before you can think of anything else. How could you think of anything else? When those words, you realize now, have been long overdue.

She laughs. You realize how much you've missed hearing her laugh once your tears start falling. "I'm sorry." You say. "I thought, you died."

You stop yourself from hissing as her hug tightens and pain shoots up from your side. You could stomach the discomfort for this. You wouldn't let her go for anything, not again. "I'm sorry I took so long, bubs."-Your heart soars at the nickname- "There were a few... loose ends I had to take care of before coming to find you." She wipes away your tears as she says this, her hands carefully brushing your hair out of your face.

"It's okay, nothing else matters now." Just you you wanted to add, but refrain from speaking any further. You pull away just far enough to look at her, still not letting her go. It's her, alright. Her hair is different, and she doesn't have her pants that that one enforcer described as a half-eaten circus tent, but it's her.

"You're not upset?" She has the audacity to ask.

"I spent the last week and a half thinking you were dead, upset is the last thing I'm feeling.” A pause. “Wait no, actually, I spent nine days wandering around the cooling vents to look for greasy ass hand prints on walls."

"Hey."

"And I couldn't find any so you must've washed your hands for once-"

"Okay, smart ass, I get it." She says, rolling her eyes before pulling you in for a kiss. Suddenly all the exhaustion and pain you're feeling is gone, and your mind blanks. The only thought running through your head is Jinx and I missed you, and I love you, I love you, I love you as you pull her closer to you.

"Easy, tiger." She puts a hand on your chest to stop you from chasing after her when she pulls away. You let out a huff. She laughs. "You're bleeding, I need to take a look at that first."

"Since when has me being injured ever stopped you?"

She grins at you. "Being away from me that long has you down bad, huh?"  You grumble something about her being unappreciative, and she responds by pulling your face down and placing a kiss on your nose.

"You're lucky I love you." 

[grimm909]

Red Phone - Part 1

Hello everybody! I'm back and for good! Thank you all so much for your support and comments.

This is a work done especially in celebration of Halloween. Unfortunately, it was supposed to be something small, but again I ended up getting carried away and had to separate it into two parts (maybe three, since the story is still developing). The story will also be posted on a03

Happy reading!

WARNINGS: age difference, non-con, kidnapping, horror, mental breakdown, murder, forced pregnancy

It had been a week since you and your family had moved into a new house. It was large, but had a somewhat morbid appearance, probably due to the time it had been abandoned. Although her parents had renovated it to make the house more presentable, it wasn't exactly an inviting place from the outside. Well, just on the outside, since you really had to give credit for how fascinating she was on the inside.

For example, the attic was an interesting location when you first saw it; full of old and dusty boxes, representing that the previous owner of that place had simply abandoned it there without bothering to come back one day to pick it up. When you went to open the boxes together with your parents to organize that place, there were some interesting things inside like comic books, board games, old clothes and even some somewhat useless objects. Much of it would simply be donated, since you didn't have much interest in most of those things, apart from comics and books.

However, something tucked into the bottom of one of the boxes and carefully wrapped in a piece of black fabric aroused his curiosity. A red phone cordless. Just an old-fashioned device, which was only used for calls and which would probably never pique anyone's interest due to how useless it was compared to a digital cell phone. However, it was curious to see that even though it had been abandoned for years, the device has a appearance new, the blood red color of the device still being quite shiny. It was quite pretty, you had to admit.

When you showed the device to your parents, they both didn't show much interest, although they were surprised to see that it still worked, even after years and years of abandoned it inside. They said you could stay if you wanted, even though it wasn't really useful to you due to the fact that already had a cell phone. You analyzed the device and said that it could be useful if at some point your cell phone stopped working and there was some precision. This would probably never actually happen.

What harm would it do to have it, right?

[…]

You wake up at midnight with your red phone ringing. It was the first time it had rung since you obted gotten it three days ago, since you were the one who normally made the calls.

Trying as hard as possible to get out of bed, you walk over to the phone that was on your desk and answer it.

"Hello?" You ask hoarsely.

“Koebi-chan, I'm so close to you.” A male voice whispers on the other end of the line. It doesn't sound like the voice of anyone you know. “I’m finally going to see what you look like.”

You remain silent for a while, absorbing what that must mean, but quickly concluding that it must just be a wrong call.

“Sorry sir, I think you called…” You didn’t finish your sentence when the call simply fell

Raising an eyebrow in disbelief, you don't care enough about the mystery man, placing your phone back in its place and returning to bed.

[…]

Two months have passed since you and your parents moved into the new house, so you already know a little about your neighbor across the street.

Ace was his name.

He was the only person closest to his house, with no one else around. A handsome man who appeared to be around thirty years old, married to a woman whose name was Elisa and having a ten year old daughter named Alice.

The two of you got along relatively well due to the older's playful personality, which reminded you more of a teenager than an adult.

You always greeted him every time you saw him across the street, also smiling and waving at him whenever you saw him through your bedroom window, since through it you had a complete view of Ace's house.

His wife and daughter were also sociable people and you wich especially became attached to the child, loving to take care of her when Ace and his wife left the house to have some alone time as a couple.

Alice also seemed to like you a lot, almost always knocking on your door so you could play together. Sometimes you accepted and other times you refused because you needed to study for college, in the latter case always earning a sad pout from the little girl.

The red phone rings at eight o'clock at night. The only difference from the first time is that you are not sleeping, but taking notes sitting at your desk.

"Hello?" You answer without blinking and lift the phone to your ear.

“Crab?” The male voice on the other line asks.

"Who?" You respond, confusion written all over your face.

“Isn’t that Ace Trappola’s number?”

"No. You called his neighbor.”

The voice is silent for a moment.

“There are no other neighbors besides Crab.”

“By Crab, you mean Ace?” Even though you think that's exactly what it is, it wouldn't hurt to ask.

”The same person~” He drawls.

“I've been Ace's neighbor for about three months. I moved recently.” You calmly explained, tapping your pen on your notebook. You were new to the neighborhood, so this stranger must have bee confused.

“There’s no one else but my family and Crab’s family here.” The voice says in a frustrated or perhaps nervous tone, you can't quite place it.

“I think there was some mistake. What’s your address?” You ask confused, starting to consider it was a prank.

The male voice gives you the location and you let out a tired sigh, realizing that it really was a stupid joke.

“You just described my address.”

The voice on the other end of the line becomes silent once again, until it breaks into laughter.

“Hehehehe, good Grab. I don’t know what you used to change your voice, but it almost got me.”

He says one last time, before hanging up on your face.

[…]

The stranger's call had piqued his curiosity. Were there really no neighbors around? The next day you explained the situation to your mother, who agreed that it could be a prank, since no one really lived close to there anymore. It was a considerably isolated place and far from everything.

“What about the previous owner of the house?” You asked the older woman who had her back turned, washing the lunch dishes.

“The previous owners sold it to a real estate agent.” His mother stated. “The agent who sold me the house just said that after that some other people came to live here, but that after a few years they usually sold it.”

"Just that?" You were displeased, expecting something more impactful.

“I was more interested in how many rooms the house had than who had lived here before.” She laughed nasally.

You would gain no more useful information from your mother and decided that the next place you would explore would be the attic, where there were five more boxes left that had not been opened.

Maybe it was a fruitless search, maybe you were just wasting time, but the man you had talked to didn't seem like a total liar, like he really had conviction in what he was saying. He even knew Ace's first and last name and you doubted your neighbor was playing a prank with you — it would be quite old-fashioned for a man of that age.

You turn on the attic light and open the first box, spilling all the things inside on the dusty floor, finding nothing that would help you learn more about the house. The second box was simply full of old clothes that were too big for you. The third is where you find a kind of notebook, but when reading its contents you don't find anything truly interesting or that indicates the owner of it.

Clank

Turning another page, a piece of paper falls out and you pick it up from the floor, realizing it is an old photograph faded at the edges. Analyzing the image, it seemed to be a family, consisting of the mother, the father and two completely identical children. On the back of the photo was the date it was taken, along with a small statement that probably referenced the two boys in that photo.

Clank

02/22/2009

My beautiful treasures, ♡Floyd♡ and ♡Jade♡

Even with the information obtained, that didn't seem like enough, especially when you didn't even have their last name. You decide to continue exploring the rest of the boxes, but you don't have the same success as before.

Clank

Putting everything back in its place, you decide to keep the photo for research purposes, keeping it in your pants pocket. Darkness encompasses the room when you turn off the light.

Clank

Going down the attic stairs, that's when you notice a strange sound coming from it, resembling two objects hitting each other. You decide to go back to check what it could be, turning on the light again and finding nothing that could hint at the reason for the noise.

Clank

You feel something fall on your head and run your hand over it to remove any insects that may have gotten into your hair. However, it is not exactly “something” that falls, but rather crumbs that appeared to be wood. Crumbs that continued to fall on the ground around him and on his head.

Clank

You go to the other side of the attic that was free of that dust and look up, expecting to find some termites eating away at the ceiling. However, it was something much worse than mere termites.

Something that could not be seen or touched.

Invisible hands carve the ceiling letter by letter, slowly forming an entire sentence.

JADE IS AN IDIOT BITCH

[…]

That number does not exist.

That's what appeared on the red phone screen when you tried to call the same number that called you last night. Even though he had the number saved on his phone, every time he pressed the button to call back, it was always the same message.

Honestly, at this point in the tournament, you didn't doubt that the house or the phone were haunted, not after what you had seen in the attic. Of course, upon witnessing such a scene, you just hurriedly fled, locking yourself in your room and determined to never set foot up there again.

You were scared of what this could be. However, his curiosity still continued to speak louder than any other feeling. Furthermore, you couldn't even run away from that house, since there was nowhere else to go and your parents would never believe that story about a strange message having suddenly appeared in the attic. His only option at the moment was to stay and find out what the hell was going on.

Therefore, all you could do was wait until the mysterious boy called again.

[…]

The red phone rings at midnight and you hurriedly put down your notebook and pen to put your hands on it, answering it without thinking twice.

"Hello!?" You say in a mix of fear and euphoria.

“So close…” The voice on the other end sounded breathless, almost as euphoric as you were.

“Close to what?” You ask, still unable to recognize who the man on the other end of the line was, even though you knew it was the same voice who had called you the first time.

“Close… pouʇ… of …ʇɹnsʇ… Let’s go …ɥ���ɯ… Together” You can’t hear it properly, the horrible sound of static playing in the background. “You just… ɯnɹ… pǝɹǝɹ… stay on the phone”

The call drops and you look at the small phone screen, noticing strange glitches. You hit his side with the palm of your hand, trying to get him back to normal.

After a few seconds, the static stops.

[…]

At six o'clock the next day, the red phone rings.

However, unlike last time, you seem a little afraid to answer. Maybe that device was the reason for the start of his problems, that was almost certain. You had even seriously thought about setting that thing on fire, maybe then the bizarre things would stop. Still, a part of you refused to do that, thinking it might end up making the situation worse instead of better.

You decide to follow the unknown man's instructions, even though you didn't trust him. Maybe he was a ghost who had possessed that cell phone and was now haunting you, you were starting to come up with some insane theories.

"Hello?"

“Ah, it’s the same voice as before.” The guy on the other line says uninterested.

"Yes. But don’t hang up, please.” You say as politely as possible. “It’s not a prank and I’m not Ace.”

“I know it’s not.” He responds back. “I spoke to Crab yesterday and he was quite confused, saying that this wasn’t even his number anymore.”

"Great." You sighed in relief. “Look, it might be hard to believe, but the address you gave me is actually the same as the one I live at.” You looked out your bedroom window and saw Ace playing with his daughter in the backyard. “My house is literally opposite his.”

“Eehh, mine too.” The boy spoke from the other side, not seeming to fully believe you. “Or would it be ours?” He laughed.

“Could you tell me your name?” You ask, taking the photo you had collected from the attic out of your desk drawer.

“Floyd Leech. And you?"

You turn the verse and see that the name was the same, but you don't know how to describe which of the twins he would be in the photo. The date on which it was taken also arouses your curiosity and you again begin to think that this whole situation was perhaps a bad joke. Could it be that the former resident of that house, Floyd, was just playing a welcome prank on you?

“Hey, don’t ignore me!” The voice on the other end gets louder when you take a long time rambling.

“Sorry, I just got distracted by something.” You prefer not to talk about the photo at hand. “My name is Y/n.”

“Never heard of it.” His disinterested tone returns to the surface.

“Yes, I had never heard of you either until today” That wasn’t entirely true, as you had discovered the photo a few hours ago. “I know it sounds strange, but could you tell me today’s date?”

“What, are you that lost in time?” He laughed. “Seriously, what did you smoke?”

“I swear I’m quite sane.” You respond sharply, but return to a calmer tone of voice, not wanting him to hang up the phone again. “Tell me today’s date, please.”

“Asking me so affectionately like that, I can’t refuse.” He jokes, using a more sly tone. “Today is 04/20/2009”

You cough, choking on your own saliva.

“Exactly at six-fifteen in the afternoon?” You look at the clock on the wall in your room.

“You got it~”

The phrase that appeared in the attic appears in his head like a puzzle piece to be fitted into that mystery. You had thought about the possibility that it was a vengeful ghost writing that, but upon reflection, it was more like an angry brother writing something stupid about his other brother.

“Something appeared in the attic yesterday.” You revealed. “A message that said: Jade is a stupid bitch. Did you do it?”

There is a short silence on the other side.

“How do you know that, huh!?” The previously sly voice suddenly turns into something threatening and you briefly withdraw the phone from your ear. “You’ve been spying on me, bitch!” He spits and you swear that if he were in front of you, that guy would definitely move towards you.

"No! I’m not spying on anyone.” You state with conviction, using your other hand to search your digital cell phone for any information that occurred on the same date that Floyd informed you. “I know it's hard to believe, but it's possible that we are in the same house, in different years.” It doesn't take long for you to find news that matches the date. “At nine o’clock, a plane will crash north of Chica-…”

“You and Jade are making fun of me, aren’t you!?” The boy on the other side looked like he was going to explode with rage. “Tell him to go fuck himself!”

You no longer have a chance to explain yourself, when he hangs up on you again.

[…]

The next day, you look for Ace to talk about the house's previous residents. You knock on his door, but are answered by Alice.

“Come to play with me?” The little girl asks happily, jumping up and down in anticipation.

“Sorry, I just came here to talk to Ace about something.” You break the illusion of the little girl, who makes a sulky expression and goes back into the house, screaming for her father.

It doesn't take long for him to appear in front of you, closing the door behind him and walking with you to the curb.

“Mom said you’ve lived here for several years. Does that mean you got to know the first residents?” You asked bluntly.

"Yes. They were a reserved family, a little strange and even scary, I would say.” He let out a nasal laugh, as if remembering something amusing.

“I found this photo.” You take the photograph from your pants pocket, handing it to Ace who promptly takes it. “It’s them, isn’t it?”

“Ah, man, I barely remembered the faces.” He spoke in surprise, a little nostalgic. “But it’s them, yes.”

“On the back it says Jade and Floyd, but I don’t know who is who. They are identical.”

“Hehe, if you look closely, you will notice subtle differences in each one.” He comes to stand next to you and holds out the photo for you to observe the details. “See, this is Jade who is smiling without showing her teeth, with her hands together in front of her body and correct posture. He was always the most reserved and eloquent, sometimes he even seemed like a butler.” He laughed and you followed him, infected by the energetic laugh that Ace had. “This is Floyd…” The redhead’s tone seemed less enthusiastic and more morbid for a moment, but you thought it was just a bad impression, as he soon returned to his usual playful normality as he talked about the other brother. “Relaxed expression and hand behind the head. Man, he was a whirlwind, the total opposite of his brother.”

"I imagine." You nodded, remembering how he snapped yesterday afternoon. “But why did they move?”

“Well…” Ace handed you the photo. “A tragedy occurred with the family” He sighed heavily, seeming to not like that story. “One of the sons ended up dying.”

His breath came ragged from the shock.

“But… how?” You asked, disbelieved.

“A motorcycle accident.” Ace shrugged. “The mourning was very much for the Leech family, mainly because they were all very united.”

“That’s why they moved?”

“I think they wanted to start again, somewhere else.” He theorized. “Honestly, I would have done the same.”

“But which of the brothers ended up dying in this accident?” You asked, apprehensive about the answer.

No, you already knew the answer.

“Floyd Leech.”

[…]

The accident had occurred on 04/30/2009

Since the days of the past and present were the same, this meant that Floyd would end up dying in seven days.

Shortly after talking to Ace, you returned home and did some research on your laptop to find out more about what had happened. In addition to finding out the date, you had discovered that Floyd died at the scene of the accident, before the ambulance could even provide assistance. Bones broken and fractured, his body had been completely torn apart.

If you still had doubts that this could be a joke, that possibility simply evaporated without a trace. You didn't just seem to be messing with the supernatural, but also with the timeline. That, or the house was haunted by the spirit of young Floyd who never passed on to the afterlife. Well, you hoped it was the first theory, since the latter was pretty scary and there weren't any ghostbusters you could call.

Your only option at that moment was to wait for Floyd to call you again before that date. You wanted to try to save him from that horrible fate, even though you were doubtful about the time lapse it could bring. If you saved him, would you still be living in the same house? Would you end up forgetting everything that happened, including Ace and Alice?

You had watched countless time travel movies and, honestly, the possibilities were endless.

[…]

The red phone rings at four o'clock.

You were in the shower, but you interrupt to hurriedly grab the towel and wrap it over your wet body, leaving a trail of water as you leave the suite and head to your room. You rub your wet hand under the towel before picking it up, worried that you might end up damaging the phone through sheer lack of attention.

"Hello?"

“How did you know?” It was Floyd. You were aware he was asking about the plane crash.

“I saw it on the internet.” You replied simply. “I’m in the same house as you, but fifteen years ahead.”

“What else do you know about me?”

“Honestly, nothing.” You shake your head in denial, even though you know he couldn't see you. “But I know what will happen to you.”

“What do you mean by that?” He asks, looking annoyed.

“On the twenty-eighth of this month, you will have a motorcycle accident.” You respond impassively. “A truck runs over you and you die before they can even help.” Although it would be a little cruel to say something so scary unceremoniously, you didn't want to beat around the bush. Everything now simply depended on whether Floyd believed you or not. “I would never joke about something so serious.” You finally say.

"I believe." You mentally thank him for the vote of confidence. “But why are you living in my house?”

“My mother recently bought this house from a real estate agent. The first family to live here sold it fifteen years ago, which coincides with the time you had the accident.”

“Do you know what happened to them?” From the tone of his voice, Floyd sounded worried.

“I found out about your brother through a photo I found in the attic” Which was still kept on his desk. “I did some quick research. Apparently he is a partner in a restaurant chain called Mostro Lounge. Quite impressive!”

“Aaah, so he did well.” Floyd didn't really seem surprised by his brother's success. “Cool~”

“I’m sure you too can have a cool future if you stay at home or take your motorcycle in for repairs.” You advise him gently. “Since the accident occurred due to a clutch failure.”

“Eehh, I just lent Crabby the bike until the weekend” Floyd looked annoyed. “I can’t believe that idiot is going to end up breaking her.”

“Haha…” You laughed awkwardly. “As soon as he returns it to you, just take it to be repaired.”

“Why are you helping me?” He questions, seeming really curious about that act of kindness coming from a stranger.

“I can stop someone from dying. I think anyone else would do the same in my place.” You shrugged. “And from what I saw in your family photo, you're still too young to go to the afterlife so soon” You laughed, trying to relax to make the situation less gloomy. “How old are you, Floyd?”

“Twenty years.”

"Coincidence. Me too."

“Do you think that’s one of the reasons we’re breaking the rules of spacetime?” He laughed nasally and you followed him with a brief giggle.

“To tell the truth, I think it’s because of the house or a red phone I found in the attic.” You theorized, choosing not to think about it anymore. “Maybe both.”

“A red cordless phone?”

“That one.” You confirmed, surprised.

“He is mine. The same one I’m using to talk to you.”

Okay, the weirdness hadn't stopped.

“Did you happen to throw some voodoo on him?” You joked and heard him laughing on the other end.

“If I was capable of something like that, I don’t think I would have died, right?” He replied back, dejectedly.

“Hehe, yeah…” The mood took a turn for the worse once again and you were forced to think of something to change the situation or simply hang up, since you were making the whole room wet. “Look, I’m not able to return your call, much less call you directly. So could you call me the day after tomorrow at the same time?”

"Of course~" His mood appears to have improved, to which Floyd responded excitedly. “I really want to know what the future looks like in fifteen years.”

[…]

The next day, you knocked on your neighbor's door again, this time being answered by Ace's wife.

Today you were committed to taking care of little Alice, since the older woman was going to visit her parents and only return the next day. And Trappola would not be able to take care of her daughter, as he would only arrive after six o'clock.

“You’re on time.” Elisa commented with a friendly smile.

“I like to be punctual!” You stated excitedly. “Are you leaving yet?”

"Yes. I won’t be back until tomorrow afternoon.” She hands him the house key. “There is food in the fridge if you want to eat, just heat it in the microwave.”

You nod in agreement, waving goodbye to Elisa as she gets into the car and starts it.

You enter the house you were already familiar with and lock the door, finding Alice in the living room watching TV.

“Hi, aunt.” She greets without looking at you, too engrossed in what was playing on the screen.

“Do you prefer to play or watch?” Looking at the screen, you recognized it as the little mermaid movie.

“It starts now!” She turned her head towards him and made those irresistible pious eyes. “Make some popcorn and come watch with me.”

You are unable to deny her request, doing what the girl asks you and after a few minutes returning to the room with a bucket full of popcorn. Already knowing the things that would happen, you weren't very excited about watching the film again, but the songs were still good to listen to and you even found yourself singing one of them together with Alice.

When the film ends, she decides that now she wants to play with dolls, picking up a beautiful plastic baby that was sitting in a child's chair.

“Look, auntie, it’s my new doll!” Alice said happily, practically rubbing the new toy in you face. “She even talks!” The girl presses the doll's chest with both thumbs.

Mommy, I love you.

"Cool!" You feign excitement at the irritatingly childish voice coming out of the object. Dolls hadn't been her thing for years.

“I’ll get another doll upstairs for us to play.” Alice places the toy in you lap and runs upstairs.

Being left alone with that silly toy, you squeeze the doll's chest to hear what other phrases she had.

Let's play!

You squeeze again.

Mommy, I'm hungry.

Again.

Can we go to the park?

One more time.

If you keep going, he'll come get you.

You are startled and let the doll fall from your hands, hurriedly getting up from the floor and moving away. For a moment, you fear that thing will rise up and start attacking you, similar to the killer doll movie. However, seconds pass and the toy remains stagnant on the floor, as lifeless as it always was.

Something in the previously said phrase arouses your curiosity and you raise an eyebrow, wondering who would come to pick you up or if it was just some hideous factory defect, as even the toy's irritating voice had become less childish and more morbid.

Even though you were afraid, you approached and picked her up, squeezing the doll's chest again to see what else she could say.

Mommy, I love you.

You snort, annoyed.

[…]

Ace arrives at eight o'clock, a little later than usual.

“Alice is already in bed.” You tell him as you watch him take off his dress shoes and coat, placing the latter on the hanger.

“Sorry to make you stay late.” He laughs awkwardly and you can tell by the expression on his face that the redhead looks haggard.

“Oh, no. It’s ok.” You reassure him with a gentle smile. “You look tired, is everything okay?”

“It’s just the job.” Ace lets out a heavy sigh, walks over to the sofa you were sitting on and sprawls his body on it, arms completely open under the upholstery.

“What exactly do you do?” You ask curiously, as you never knew about your neighbor's job.

"Counter." Ace responds dejectedly.

You also don't help improve his mood when you burst into laughter, disbelieving that this was the cynical Ace's profession.

"Hey!" The redhead exclaims, annoyed that you're laughing in his face.

“I’m sorry, but this doesn’t suit you at all.” Wiping a tear from your eye, you continue laughing in a less outrageous way.

“Obviously not.” He snorts. “But it’s not like I had a lot of choices.”

"What do you mean?" Calmer after the explosion of laughter, you ask intrigued.

“I was twenty-three when Elisa became pregnant with Alice.” Ace looks towards the stairs where the rooms were, turns his attention to you and lowers his voice. “It was an accident.”

“Oh!” You exclaim, surprised.

“Because of that, I dropped out of college and got a job so I could take care of the baby-”

“College of what?” Although it would be appropriate to continue listening to your friend's story without interrupting, your curiosity gets the better of you and your mouth moves before you can even think.

“Nah, you’ll laugh.”

"No! I won’t, I promise.” You bring your index fingers together to form an “x”, bringing them to your mouth. “Tell me!”

"Teacher." He responds without much ceremony.

You actually keep your promise and don't laugh, but you are truly incredulous that this would be the profession chosen by the mischievous Ace.

“Professor Ace Trappola.” You say slowly, testing how the taste of those words sound to your ears. “Sounds good.”

“Do you think so?” He smiles, apparently more excited by those simple words.

Yes yes." You agree smiling. “But tell me more! What’s the rest of the story?” You question, curious to know more about the redhead's life.

“After two years, Elisa and I got married. We thought it would be good if we got our shit together.” He shrugs and becomes discouraged again. “We already had a baby, we just needed the rings.”

"I'm very sorry." You say painfully, although you didn't know exactly why you were sorry. Maybe because Ace's dreams never came true? For the years lost in a life he never wanted?

“It’s okay, I kind of like being a father.” He gave you a sincere smile and you knew Ace wasn't lying.

“What about Elisa?”

“I like her too.” He responds without the sincere smile from before, just a blank facet. There was no sparkle in his eyes when he mentioned his own wife, you noticed. “You know, I saw you yesterday.” Ace suddenly changes the subject, straightening his posture on the couch to face you.

"As? I didn’t even leave the house.” You raise an eyebrow in disbelief.

“In the window, answering an old phone.” A dirty little smile appears on Ace's lips and you feel like you were missing something.

It still takes a few seconds to understand exactly when that happened, until the penny falls heavily on your head.

“Oh, my God!” You cover your face with the palms of your hands, too embarrassed to look at the redhead. “I’m not a pervert, I swear it was accidental!”

“Hahaha.” It's his turn to laugh about your misfortune and it makes you feel even worse, groaning in annoyance between your fingers. Seeing that you really felt bad about that, Ace immediately stopped laughing. “Okay, okay.” He holds your wrists delicately, gradually lowering the hands that covered your face so that you can face him again. Seeing him now, he seemed to have gotten even closer to you face. “Honestly, I liked the view.” The redhead gives you that stupid smile again.

“Hmm.” You just moan in agreement, still embarrassed and not knowing exactly how to react to Ace's compliment.

“You’re kind of bad at reading the climate.” He laughs one last time, before closing his eyes and breaking the distance that separated your lips from his.

Ace is quick to wrap his tongue around yours when you opened your mouth a little in surprise from the sudden kiss, involuntarily allowing the redhead to explore the inside of your mouth.

Even though you're shocked, it doesn't take you more than three seconds to close your eyelids and let yourself be carried away by the moment. Their tongues come together in a delicate way, exactly like a calm sailing at sea.

His brain gradually fills with pleasure, which was provided by the kiss that became more steamy as time passed. His tongue moved with an impressive mastery that you never had with boys your age.

Inside you there was a damn explosion of happiness, which internally clashed with some bitter emotions present, but which were being furiously crushed as the kiss progressed from a peaceful way to a hotter and wetter one.

Ace didn't seem very distant, wanting you more and more to the point of wanting to become just one with you through your lips that he so wished to kiss. The redhead takes his hand to you head and sinks his fingers into you locks, giving more depth to the kiss, but also making the air in her lungs become increasingly scarce.

The fact that you both needed to breathe became an obstacle in the midst of the pleasure you felt, which forced Ace to stop the kiss and move away a little.

He carefully visualizes the delicate features of your face, as he had done so many times without you noticing, considering that your pink cheeks due to embarrassment or the possible ecstasy of the kiss left you very cute. However, the redhead's greatest attention ended up once again falling on his parted lips, which were now slightly swollen and red. Ace couldn't help but feel attracted and mesmerized by them again, as he had been for a long time.

After normalizing his breathing, he was going towards you for a second kiss, but you stopped him by putting your hand in front of his mouth, preventing Ace from kissing you again.

“Ace, you have a wife.” You do your best not to fall into temptation again.

Although you couldn't deny that you had some conflicted feelings regarding what you felt for Ace, it wasn't fair to stab Elisa in the back. You liked her and didn't want to be a home wrecker. Not only would it harm her, it would also harm little Alice.

"I understand." He says placidly, stepping back. “But Elisa and I are going to separate.”

"Huh!?" You face forms into a clearly confused expression.

“Before you even arrived, things were complicated.” He lets out a tired sigh. “She went to her parents’ house to stay away from me for a while.”

“Did something happen?” Maybe it was rude to ask, but you needed to know if that story was really true.

“We fought yesterday.” His shoulders slumped in dismay. “I wasn’t lying when I said I liked Elisa. I like, but I don't love her anymore.”

“Is it possible for someone to stop loving another person?” A line of disbelief forms on his forehead, doubtful that something like this would be possible between two people who have lived together for so many years.

“In my case, apparently yes.” He laughed half-heartedly. “Elisa and I stayed together for Alice and tried to stay together as a family for her.” The redhead looks away to look at his own bare feet. There was a light of regret and sadness in his crimson eyes. “But we hurt ourselves in the process.” You stay silent, feeling a little sorry for Ace and Elisa, but mostly for Alice. Trappola looks at you again and once again gets dangerously close to you, but he doesn't kiss you. Instead, he places one of his hands on the side of her face, stroking her cheek with his thumb in a clear sign of affection and kindness. "I want you."

You don't know exactly how to feel about this statement. The doubts were still present in his head and apparently the only way to dismiss them was to confirm the words previously said by Ace.

“Are you really going to break up? I don’t want to be a home wrecker, much less be your lover.” You firmly admit.

“In a month. Only a month left until the divorce papers are ready.”

In a bold and unpredictable move that you never expected to come out of your own mouth, the next words would surprise you when you remembered them the next day.

“Let’s go to your room.”

Trappola's crimson eyes shine and a smile of genuine happiness emerges from the corners of his mouth. He jumps off the couch and grabs your hand, dragging you upstairs.

[…]

Before you knew it, Ace already had his face buried between your legs.

His mouth was firmly attached to your intimacy, teasing hickeys with wet and obscene sounds, tasting every bit of your pussy to engrave the taste in his memory.

“You’re so hot.” Ace praises, placing a kiss on the inside of her thigh and then returning to attack her sensitive parts.

Even with one hand over your mouth to stifle your moans, you still moan loudly, feeling him focus exclusively on your clit, licking and sucking with such devotion that you can't stop yourself from taking your other free hand to locks Ace, squeezing a bundle of unruly red strands. He was very good at making your pussy the most appetizing thing in the world.

It had only been a few minutes since Ace was fucking you so fervently, but even in that short time you already felt the heat in your belly building up more and more, ready to explode. He was amazing at oral sex, probably due to years of experience. Your hand would never satisfy you in the same way again after experiencing the wonder that Ace mouth was capable of provi.

Trappola's teeth graze over your sensitive spot and you let out a whiny moan, drops of tears splashing your eyes due to the ecstasy you've never felt. Your soaked little hole was begging for a piece of meat, to the point where your warm, velvety walls tightened around nothing as Ace fucked you with his tongue.

You involuntarily lift your hips several times, while sparks of pleasure cross your body in a clear sign that you were close to finally reaching the fullness of pleasure.

“Ace I… Ah!… I… Ngh… I’m going to…” You remove your hand from in front of your mouth to warn him, but your moans were making it difficult for you to form a coherent sentence.

He looks deeply at you with his scarlet orbs filled with lust and possession, before pulling away to give you that stupid little smile and order in a husky voice.

“Cum for me, dear.” It's the last thing Ace says before he goes back to attacking your sensitive pussy with more frenzy than before, without taking his eyes off you.

You don't know if it's because of the eroticism of those words, the way he looks at you or even the most obvious reason that his mouth was on your vulva, but you scream and finally reach your limit. The knot that had formed in your abdomen dissolves in a hot orgasm and your hips rise again, at the same time that your entire body spasms constantly with pleasure.

Even after he has successfully made you cum, Ace continues to lick you more gently, sucking the clear fluid that comes out of your tight hole. He only moves away when he feels sufficiently satisfied, a thick thread of drool connecting your wet pussy to his mouth, but which soon falls apart the further away these two are.

“Please tell me your room has thick walls.” You inquire heavily, recovering from the newly felt high.

“Don’t worry about making loud noises.” Ace laughs and crawls until he is at the height of your face, kissing you and making you feel your own taste still present in the older man's mouth. Your arms circle around his neck and you reciprocate without any reluctance in that act.

Ace's hand roams your already fully naked body, sliding from your soft abdomen to your newly stimulated crotch, touching your hole. Upon noticing what he was about to do, you quickly close your legs and stop Trappola from continuing with his actions. You break the kiss and moderately push him away with your elbow, sitting on the bed.

“What’s the matter?” Ace asks as he puts his weight under his knees, clearly confused by your quick change in attitude.

“That's kind of embarrassing to say.” An awkward laugh passes your lips and you look away. “I’m still a virgin.”

Ace remains silent for about three seconds, before exclaiming in perplexity:

“Whoa, really?” He quickly removes his hand from between your legs.

“Yes, but I hope that’s not a problem for you.” You bite your bottom lip nervously and look back at him.

“Haha, that’s no problem at all.” Ace laughed, that beautiful energetic smile you loved so much adorning the mature features of his face. “I’m just surprised by that. I mean, you’re so pretty.” You were taken aback by the compliment and your face heated up as you watched the way he looked at you affectionately.

“I don’t want you to take my virginity with your fingers.” You laughed at your own words, quickly changing the subject. Honestly, you didn't want to ruin the mood by commenting on your practically non-existent love life. “And honestly, I think I’m already wet enough to welcome you.” You direct your eyes to Ace's intimacy, noticing a voluminous bulge in his underwear, as well as a dark stain on the tip of his cock protruding forward. "Do you have a condom?"

“Look, married people don’t use condoms.” He mocked with a stupid little smile.

Shit.

“Seriously, I always told myself I would never do this without a condom.” You laughed, disbelieving that you would end up breaking the only rule you had made when you had your first time. However, even more disbelieved given how much you trusted Ace to give in so easily without even thinking twice.

“Does that mean?” Ace inquires expectantly.

You respond to him with actions, lying back on the bed and vulgarly opening your legs, exposing your intimate area with the clear intention of someone waiting to be fucked.

Trappola swallows hard, feeling his cock throb at how beautifully erotic you were as you so willingly gave yourself to him. Even kneeling on the bed, Ace is quick, practically euphoric in getting rid of the only piece of clothing that prevented him from fucking you. The redhead positions himself above you and places one hand on your hip, while the other is responsible for guiding his own cock towards your slippery hole.

“Can I?” Ace checks before taking any action, although his breathing was clearly heavy, yearning to fuck you.

"Yes." You say a little shyly, even though your actions so far have been quite naughty.

With the confirmation Ace needed, he slowly pushes his erect member inside you, sighing in delight at finally being able to feel your warm, velvety walls wrapped around his cock.

On the other hand, the sensation was a little strange at first, until it became painful as Trappola advanced further inside, breaking your hymen and then filling you with his cock. The length of Ace's member inside your vaginal canal was more than acceptable, but you squeeze the bed sheets between your fingers and let out a low moan of pain.

"You are incredible." Ace comments with restrained euphoria, marveling at having you all to himself. However, upon noticing his expression of pain, he asks worriedly. “Does it hurt?”

"A little." You shift uncomfortably in bed. “But you can continue.” You calm down with a sweet smile on your lips, not minding being a little hasty even after having graduated from your virginity literally seconds ago. You hands circle around the redhead's neck again and bring him for you lips touch his in a warm kiss.

He reciprocates immediately, but it doesn't take long for Ace to pull away from your mouth and decide it's time to move after feeling his cock throb in excitement, practically begging to be moved and finally fuck you rough.

The redhead moves his hips away a little, enough so that half of his rigid penis remains outside your gummy walls, then returns entirely inside you with a hard thrust all the way to the bottom. Ace lets out a heavy sigh as soon as he receives a delicious grip around his member, intensely loving that pleasurable sensation of a young pussy like yours.

However, this action was responsible for causing you to gasp in pain, but unlike the first time it was completely ignored by Ace, as he no longer cared about trying to be gentle after you yourself approved that he continued to fuck you.

Addicted to getting more of those delicious squeezes, Ace successively starts to do the same actions mentioned above, but in a slower back and forth so that he doesn't reach orgasm so soon. After all, he didn't imagine that you virgin pussy would be so hot.

You periodically continue to let out one or another moan of pain, without having yet been able to feel any trace of pleasure in it, although it is no longer as agonizing as it was at first. Trying to feel as good as Ace felt when he fucked you, you take one of your hands towards your clitoris, rubbing it with your index and middle fingers. A sigh of relief leaves your mouth as spikes of delight begin to circulate through your body even in the midst of the feeling of agony.

“Still bothered?” Ace laughs softly when he realizes what was happening and removes his hand so he can take care of the situation himself, too proud to let you pleasure yourself. “Let me do this for you.” He asks, at the same time that Ace's thumb touches your sensitive spot, making rotating movements with a fixation much greater than you could alone.

“Oh!” You exclaim not only in surprise, but also in jubilation. Touching herself felt good, but being touched by someone else felt even better, bringing her a never-before-felt feeling of ecstasy.

The older man bends down a little and dips his face into the side of your neck, licking and leaving marks of love on your previously immaculate skin. A heavy sigh escapes your lips and your previously rigid body begins to relax on the bed as Ace continues to stimulate you in different ways. His dick inside you wasn't so bad anymore, starting to become less strange and more dizzying.

“Ace, this feels so good.” You say with a ragged breath, enchanted by how sex could be something wonderful and addictive. You didn't regret giving your virginity to Trappola one bit.

“I feel good too.” Ace whispers close to your ear, before gently biting your earlobe in teasing. A pleasant shiver runs through your body through this action and you reciprocate by biting his neck gently, weak enough to not leave marks. You wouldn't be stupid enough to do that when Ace was still married. “Oh, how cute.” He comments with a wicked laugh and you are indignant, taking revenge on him by putting a little more pressure against the redhead's skin, consequently hearing him moan in pain. “I take back what I said.”

You both laugh through sex, captivated by each other. However, Ace breaks the romantic mood by pulling away and removing his still hard penis from inside you. A groan leaves your lips, dissatisfied by the sudden absence of your intimacy.

“It’s okay, I won’t stop.” Ace soothes by kissing the top of his head. “But wouldn’t you like to try other positions?” He suggests, but before you can say anything, Trappola easily handles your body that had been claimed by himself, placing you on your side and positioning himself behind you, resulting in the redhead's penis touching the soft and warm skin of your buttock. Ace appreciates the slightest touch, letting out a sigh and feeling terribly tempted to give you a bite in that area, but deciding to leave that for another time. “What do you think?” He asks, his nose pressed into the crook of your neck.

“As long as it’s good…” You mutter without having an opinion of your own due to a complete lack of experience.

Ace slowly passes his hand down the length of your incredibly hot body, starting at your shoulder, sliding down your waist, feeling your hip and hovering over your thigh, lifting the latter without the slightest difficulty so that he could have better access to your hole and thus calm down his greedy hormones.

You were so deliciously wet, that Ace's member practically slid inside, being immediately massaged by your pussy that already responded to his thrust. Feeling like that, stretching and welcoming him as if Ace's member was already a natural part of your body, was like pouring gasoline on a fire.

It was inevitable. He felt the need to move quickly inside. And with a powerful thrust of his hips, the redhead delighted in feeling the limits of his tight intimacy, at the same time as he was gifted with a heavy moan from you, which only served to elevate his ego even more.

Ace's other free hand reached under your body to return to the work from before, which involved stimulating your sensitive clit. He started to move his hips faster, making a complete mess of you and eliciting several moans. However, if you continued moaning so sweetly for him, the redhead wouldn't be able to last two minutes in the paradise he was in.

Even though he wanted to prolong the fuck he was having, Trappola's body no longer seemed to obey his wishes due to the pleasure that had accumulated in his cock. Fortunately, you don't seem too far from that.

“Y/n!” Ace pants your name and closes his eyes, letting his seed fill your previously virgin hole with hot steady streams.

You come soon after, letting out a sharp scream as your pussy milks him with constant squeezes until the last drop fills you.

When Ace's pleasure is finally released inside you, your body becomes completely limp and your breathing is labored.

The redhead rested your leg on the bed and with the hand that was previously holding it he began to caress and eventually squeeze your buttocks, admiring the sperm that dripped from your pussy and slid down your thighs. Ace had come in very large amounts, pleased that you took all of him

“You were amazing.” Ace praised sincerely, placing an affectionate kiss on her reddened cheek. It was actually funny of him to say that, after all, you did absolutely nothing during sex.

“I hope your wife has some birth control.” You murmured as you recovered from your orgasmic high.

“She can’t get pregnant anymore.” He lets out a muffled laugh against your neck.

“Urgh.” An annoyed grumble leaves his lips.

You would have to buy contraceptives the next day or Alice would end up getting a new baby brother.

[…]

You left minutes after sex.

Although Ace insisted that you spend the night with him, you couldn't because of your parents. They wouldn't be stupid enough to believe any excuse you came up with to stay at the redhead's house all night, especially when your house was literally opposite his. At least you already had an excuse ready for his delay, saying that Trappola had arrived late from work, which actually happened.

Oh, yes. You also stole that doll from hell.

Although he felt sorry for knowing that Alice would be sad to wake up and no longer find her new toy, it was still better than leaving a seemingly cursed doll in her arms.

You burned her the next day and the doll no longer made a sound.

Thank you for reading this far! Constructive criticism is always welcome.

See you soon.

[markrosewater]

hi Mark! i noticed in "#1202: Psychology" you didn't make any mention of the two aesthetic profiles Vorthos and Mel, and i was wondering whether any of the decisions being made specifically take them into consideration. like i ask this because one of the biggest changes to Magic this year (UB coming to standard) is something Vorthos care the most about but it seems like nothing has been done to directly address them as an audience

The aesthetic profiles aren't rooted in psychology like the psychographics, so that's why I didn't touch upon them in the psychology podcast. I'll probably do another aesthetics podcast one day (I did one as part of my "20 Lessons" series) and I'll talk about them there.

The concept of Vorthos, at its core, is about appreciating the creative elements of card design above all else. Many Vorthos adore Universes Beyond because we've done a very good job at capturing the various properties in Magic card design form.

But yes, there's a subgroup of Vorthoses that care specifically about Magic's creative world building, characters, and story. We're spending a lot of time and energy to make sure the products set in the Magic multiverse are doing a good job of representing it. 2024 had many successes (Bloomburrow, Duskmourn, and Foundations) in this area, but also some failures (Murders at Karlov Manor and Outlaws of Thunder Junction). The creative team is trying to learn from them and lean more towards the type of creative execution that make this group of Vorthoses happy.

As I've been saying a lot, Magic excels at being additive, but has issues with being subtractive. If you want cool Magic settings and characters and stories, we can and will continue to do that. If you want us to stop doing non-Magic settings, characters, and stories, I can't help you there. There's a big audience that enjoys that and so we're making it for them.

I do hear that there are players that are sad that non-Magic elements will mix in gameplay with Magic elements. There will be many limited formats, and a few constructed formats (like Cube or Premodern) where you can avoid that if it's important to you, but the number of players who will only play with in-Multiverse components is low enough that it's not something we're focusing on in the main sanctioned formats.

It's not that I'm not sympathetic. Go back ten years and I was one of you. I fought hard against non-Magic elements for many years. What finally swayed me was seeing how much I enjoyed it when a license that I truly loved got brought to Magic. There's something so exciting, so glee producing about combining two loves, that I became a convert. I want to make people as happy as I was made.

I know this isn't the answer you want to hear. I try to use this blog to be as honest with all of you as I can. Magic keeps changing and evolving because we try to do things that players will love, and there are a lot of players that truly love Universes Beyond.

That said, we're not abandoning in-Multiverse Magic. We're still making three sets a year (the standard for the majority of Magic's life), and we're truly taking to heart the lessons of 2024 (more worlds that are our carefully crafted take on the tropes and less just a place to show them off). Making the Magic multiverse the most compelling and exciting thing possible is still our goal, and there are a lot of people working really hard to continue to do that.

I think the future is bright for the Vorthoses, but I truly understand why some of you are sad with Universes Beyond coming to Standard.

[verstappensseatcushion]

✩°｡⋆ pas de deux, ln4 ⋆｡°✩pt 4

part one part two part three

pairing: lando norris x fem! ballerina! reader

[face claim: luna montana is largely used as faceclaim but some other pinterest girlies in there too]

summary: y/n is new to monaco and quickly finds herself dancing with mclaren driver lando norris despite all intentions she has of focusing on only her career

a/n: i did not proof read so im so sorry if there's spelling mistakes at all! hope everyone had a happy holiday

y/n.ballet posted on their story

⟡⟡⟡

"i think some of the other drivers should be here soon," alex, charles girlfriend, says loudly over the music.

you've been out with charles and his friends for a few hours now, meeting for drinks at someone's yacht and now at a club that you can't remember the name of. alex has quickly become the person you're clinging to, as one of the only other girls out.

"oh! i didn't know anyone else was coming," you yell back. she shrugs and gets up to pull you along with her to the dancefloor.

when you return to the booth in the corner there are more guys at the table, all laughing to themselves as they take a round of shots. charles being the first to notice yours and alex's return goes to introduce you to the new arrivals.

"everyone this is y/n," his words slur together a bit, he then points to everyone, even the ones you've met already, and reintroduces them. "and lastly we have lando."

he looks familiar, and not just from seeing him on tv or in advertisements around monaco, but it's like you've met before.

⟡⟡⟡

y/n.ballet posted on their story

⟡⟡⟡

it's been at least an hour, and a few more drinks, since the other drivers met you guys at the club. you, alex, lando, and charles are sitting in the booth after everyone else abandoned the group for dancing. you've been sitting quietly, giggling with alex, as charles and lando go back and forth telling stories about each other.

alex leans towards charles, whispering something into his ear. he nods and then announces that they're gonna leave soon.

"i should leave too, its getting late i think," looking at your phone you see it's nearly 2am. you go to crawl out of the booth and stumble a bit trying to gain your balance. a hand reaches and grabs your arm steadying you.

"is someone taking you home?" lando asks looking down at you, hand still on your arm.

"that's a bit forward isn't it?"

"wha-oh, not like that, i mean how are you getting home," he sighs, "you're clearly drunk y/n, and no one in their right mind would let you get home alone."

giggling you try to touch both your fingers to your nose (not entirely correctly but the thought was there), "see not drunk im fine! plus i dont live far im just going to walk back to my apartment,"

"let me walk you?" he asks, moving his hand to the small of your back as he guides you to the exit.

...

"and tulip fever is why I like tulips so much, it's honestly one of the best movies I've ever watched," it's been about 20 minutes of you blabbering non-stop, walking through the middle of the street as lando follows you, "oh my god I walked into you the other day that's where I know you from! je le savais! I was on my way to classes and completely walked into you, im so sorry by the way. I can be so out of it someti-"

"breathe," lando cuts you off laughing, "I don't think you've stopped talking once since we left."

you blush with embarrassment, "I'm so sor-"

"don't apologize it's cute, I like it," he cuts you off again, "do you know where you're going, or have you just been walking down random roads hoping your apartment appears?"

you point at the building on the corner, "it's this building! I know where I'm going!"

"are you sure? because this the second time we've been on this street."

"yes I'm sure," you laugh, swatting at his chest.

he follows you as you enter the door code and walk up the stairs to your apartment door, "you coming in?" you ask.

"not tonight, just making sure the pretty girl made it home safely," he smiles, giving a half wave as he goes back down the stairs.

"goodnight lando."

"goodnight y/n."

⟡⟡⟡

y/n.ballet

liked by ybfusername, landonorris and 4,019 others.

y/n.ballet à propos de la nuit dernière 🌷

ybfusername you better be prepared to explain those flowers missy

username5 where's the dress from?? 😍

username2 gorgeous smile

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landonorris

liked by y/n.ballet, username3 and 320,872 others.

landonorris about last night 🕶

username1 that second pic omg

username3 DJ LANDOOOOO

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[transformers-spike]

Helloo, I'm wondering if you can do a sh comfort with any character from tfp plz :3

From the ☣️ annon

Went for Starscream because I know his brand of comfort is... questionable but entertaining to write - also (sfw)

You’re in trouble. Big fucking trouble. You can stay in your little lab all you want, fiddling with genetic samples with the grace of a high schooler dissecting a frog, lacking your usual precision. Yes, you got yourself into it. No, your past self refuses to apologize to the current you. And while you may understand what pushed the old you to make this decision a week ago, personal growth isn’t going to do shit after the stunt you’ve pulled. Starscream is your abductor, yes, but he’s also your “guardian” so to speak; the Decepticon responsible for your continued wellbeing. This has not stopped him from threatening your life back when you were being “rescued” from your old job, but there’s no use dwelling on it. The point is, there’s a degree of mutual trust between the two of you. In exchange for a wide variety of resources and access to actual alien technology, you’ve been hard at work handling projects he’s tossed your way. You pride yourself in it, because who wouldn’t after spending decades perfecting their craft? Or getting into a ludicrous amount of student debt… Your stint with the government was, admittedly, your lowest point; MK-Ultra 2.0 type experiments you only agreed to as a morally and financially bankrupt newcomer with a grudge against society as a whole after working half a decade in retail. To say you regret it is to put it lightly. At the very least the Decepticons are honest about their intentions, no “protecting the people” rhetoric; if they’re going to cyberform the Earth then you’ll be there with your bucket of popcorn watching it all unfold. Although, past you wasn’t quite as eager. Guilt racked your brain, tormented you well into the night, reminded you every waking moment you could only be an instrument in someone else’s plan, a pawn that would unquestionably follow its master even if it meant digging its own grave. Yes, you’re doing better now (you think), and you were concealing the secret just fine until you misjudged the boiling point of an experimental concoction and got a face-full of glass. It could have been worse, you had shielded yourself with your arms, earning only a couple scars on your face (and a frightening amount on your arms). That’s when Knock Out came in. Oh Knock Out. You cunt . Of course he was being too kind; it wasn’t from the chunks of glass he was removing with a pair of forceps, nor the tears of pain running down your face (you honestly expected him to go “Ew” and toss a blanket over your head so he wouldn’t have to look). It’s because he had seen the week-old cut along your arm. He didn’t make a fuss, didn’t point it out, didn’t so much as pause while treating you. Oh no – he sent you a message first thing in the morning informing you he relayed the extra detail to Starscream and sent you the Cybertronian equivalent of a shrug emoji. Your first reaction was to threaten his life through text, which he responded to with an eyeroll.

This leaves you here, waiting at your post, counting down the seconds to doomsday, hands shaking cursing yourself for spilling the (thankfully non-corrosive) substance down the beaker. You try to seem casual when the door opens up. You try to steady your breathing when you feel his footsteps. You try to put down the beaker and greet him – which drops and shatters. Staring down at your work, mouth agape, you don’t have the strength to look him in the optic after three major blunders in under 24 hours. Although it’s hard to avoid his gaze when he commands your attention with his presence alone. “Hey,” you say, sweating profusely. “Nice day we’re having. Out here in space, I mean.” His expression is one of exasperated frustration. “Oh don’t patronize me.” He scoops you up like a naughty kitten, glaring daggers at you. “Show me,” he orders. You cradle your arm to your chest. “But, Knock Out bandaged it yesterday-” “Are you trying to waste my time?” You hang your head low and undo the wrappings at a snail’s pace, desperately stalling, praying for anything to intervene and pull Starscream away so you can scramble under your desk and hyperventilate in peace. But your boss doesn’t have time to waste. He groans dramatically before plucking your arm and tearing through the bandages in one clean cut of his talon. “I swear it’s not that bad,” you say, the antithesis of convincing, cringing inside as he observes the scars in eerie silence. The expression he wears is unreadable. His optics drag from your arm to your face. You swallow. “It’s just a scratch-” “No,” he cuts you off, voice bursting with anger. “Do you take me for a fool?” “Wait I didn’t mean it that way-” “Shut up.” He glowers down at you, claws tightening around your arm. “I will remind you, human, that you are an investment . And I won’t have my investments break of their own volition. So tell me,” he drags you closer, sending a sudden burst of pain which you dare not show, “ why would you do it?”

“I… I don’t… I don’t know how to explain,” you whisper. He scoffs and rolls his optics. “Is it so difficult to collaborate? If you won’t tell me, then I can’t help you.” The words ring in your ears. You go weak in the knees. “Help me?” you echo, incredulity heavy on your tongue. He flashes you a look of utter confusion. “What? Did you think I would punish you? Oh, please , it’s not my modus operandi. I have a more refined manner of supervising my subordinates compared to… I’m sure you can guess whom. Now stop wasting my time, and tell me why .”

“Uh… it’s a long story,” you babble, still reeling from his words. “Then shorten it, I don’t have all cycle.”

“I’ve been plagued with some… pretty horrendous thoughts at night, among,” you vaguely gesture at your makeshift lab, “the stress of deadlines.” He contemplates you, arching an optical ridge. It feels… strangely human compared to the apathetic stares of your old bosses. You’re a number here just the same, except it will be significantly more difficult to replace you. “I can’t change the deadlines,” he starts in an oddly soft tone, scrutinizing your reaction. “However, I can procure the proper medication to avoid another incident. .” You flash him a bewildered look. “Antidepressants?” you ask incredulously. “I was referring to something along the lines of ambien or adderall.” He releases your arm and taps his chin. “Perhaps both considering your current state.”

“Oh…” You blink. “I didn’t expect you to know this much about human pharmaceuticals.”

He scoffs again, putting an offended servo to his chassis. “Unlike us, you humans are exceptionally fragile, mentally and physiologically. I had anticipated some manner of a breakdown, although not this severe.” “So am I forgiven?” you ask, a mild attempt at sarcasm to clear the ambiance. It earns you a glare. “No,” he declares unsurprisingly. “I will be confiscating the hazardous materials.” You cock an eyebrow and point at the glass vials behind you, two of which are very obviously missing from the rack (and one whose pieces are mostly dislodged from your arm). He ex-vents loudly, slapping a servo to his face. “I was referring to the sharp instruments in your possession.” His voice is muffled. “Fair enough,” you say. “And B09F will be dispensing your medication.” “A bit excessive. But sure.” He scowls at you between his digits. He seems… terribly overworked. Cybertronians don’t have eyebags, but you swear there are dark lines under his optics. You clear your throat and avoid eye contact. “Thank you. I appreciate it quite a bit. You’re much better than my previous employer.” Said previous employer orchestrate your kidnapping and made you work towards humanity’s downfall with a blaster to your head. This, you leave out completely. He freezes for a split second. Slowly, he removes his servo to contemplate you better. “Odd,” he remarks. “I thought humanity would treat you better as one of their own.” A smile spreads across his face. “No matter. At least someone can appreciate the effort I put into running a tight ship.” You return his smile in spades. “I’m sure I’m not the only one.” “Flattery won’t work on me,” he scoffs. A moment passes by. He opens up an optic like a dog waiting to be pet. “Well?” he urges. “Uh… I’m sure others admire you just as much as I? You’re… the best commander on the ship? You’re the most competent person I know?... You’re a better father than my dad ever was?” His optics snap open. “Are you comparing me to your genetic progenitor?” “To an extent? In the sense that you’re a better mentor and guardian than mine ever was.”

He squints at you. “You humans are terrible towards your own kind. Although I suppose I should accept your compliment.” His wings flick in a show of… begrudging content. “Now, take the rest of the day off.” You beam up at him. “With the condition you’re bound to your quarters.” You look down in disappointment. “Fine, you can roam around the perimeter as long as B09F chaperons you.” “Sure thing dad,” you say in an attempt at humor. He furrows his optical ridge. “If you start calling me "daddy" I'm tossing you out the airlock.”

[vinelark]

what r some fics that shaped your psyche? you have so many good recs im currently rereading the to an athlete dying young series

hello! you sent me this ask ages ago and i've been meaning to get to it ever since. (it took me so long to answer that i'm sure you've reread to an athlete dying young by @sonosvegliato many times over by now but hell yeah, what a good one.)

these are a few fics--dc and beyond--that have been in my "in case of emergency" epub folder (aka fics i want to have on hand immediately to reread on bad days, or good days, or even average days) for a few years now. so here is an extremely incomplete list of fics that have shaped my psyche!

for dc specifically--if i tried to list all of them i would just end up repeating my whole fic rec tag, so these are just a few of the ones i read when i was getting into this fandom that stayed with me/made me want to seek out more for these characters:

📸 surveillance series by @smilebackwards

this series located the tim drake center of my brain and lit it up like the vegas strip.

🎒 like a hinge, like a wing by @bonesbuckleup

one of my go-to rereads for pangs; chapter one is a masterclass in tension. also, one of my favorite pre-robin tim pov fics of all time.

💻 nominal by @unpretty

"you don't get it, batman is a comedy" --conversation i've had with multiple people using this fic as my thesis statement.

🌃 the jingle jangle morning by @audreycritter

the moment somebody in my vicinity says "i love dick grayson" i'm on their doorstep with this fic url.

🚉 a meditation on railroading by @eggmacguffin

there's a moment in this fic known among my friends as "baby wipes jason" and it has successfully converted no less than three people to the fandom.

and then for non-dc fic:

🌌 atlas by @megafaunatic (mdzs & tgcf)

did i read this before i had a single clue who the characters were? yes. did i return to it once i did and lose my mind a little? yes. lore etymologyplayground writes that “so so so in love and pining so hard the lines between us are blurring and we haven’t made a move yet but it’s inevitable” flavor with such a deft hand; it is in fact called the lorezone. if any friends-to-lovers pining i write can achieve even 50% of a lorezone i will have done my job.

🪿 If they caught you by @feyburner (tgcf)

i go back to this when i think about setup and payoff, when i think about subtle misdirects, when i think about the monumental task of creating whole compelling new characters in 6k words.

🧪 away childish things by lettered (hp)

one of the best de-aging trope stories i've ever read; i think of this when i want to take a trope to its maximum potential and then go: no wait, there's even more.

(another fav de-aging fic is grow by @cafecliche; shorter plot but no less pangs 🌱)

🏡 in defiance of all geometry by @idiopath-fic-smile (les mis)

a fic that's a perfect reread when i need something cozy and full of character, and a perfect touchstone when i'm pondering something where the world may not hang in the balance but the stakes still matter.

📔 The Absolutely True Story of the Yiling Patriarch: A Manifesto in Many Parts by aubreyli (cql/mdzs)

paragon of metahumor, basically. i think of this when i want to write something that's funny in both text and form.

🍚 and his wanting grows teeth by @yuebings (cql/mdzs)

masterclass in pangy backstory reveal; the way the first scene loops back around to punch you in the gut long after you've forgotten it will forever be seared into my brain.

also, most answers on this list fit the bill!

(apologies again that this answer is so belated; it took me ages to write up partially because i kept stopping to reread these fics every time i tried.)