#They’re on season six now… somehow.

[spikeisawesome456]

Oooh, I finally got contacted by the Avatar: the Last Airbender people about the figurine I won from the Braving the Elements podcast Live! panel I went to at Comic Con! Apparently, I won a Diamond Select Toys Uncle Iroh figurine that they’ll be shipping out to me soon! The whole panel was about Iroh, since his voice actor was one of the guests on the panel (as was Toph’s), so it makes sense.

Ha, I was so worried that I was going to be ghosted by these people, especially since my last name is commonly misspelled and my email address is just my first and last name, so it’s nice to have gotten contacted at least.

(Also, since I don’t know if I made a public post about this on this blog, when I was at Comic Con a couple weeks ago I attended a panel for the live recording of the Braving the Elements podcast that Janet Varney and Dante Basco (Korra and Zuko’s voice actors respectively) host. Since my mom is physically disabled, we were able to enter the room first and I got front row seats to the panel, and was able to book it to the line where they were doing trivia for ATLA. Now, I’m usually awful at trivia, but I am a fairly big ATLA fan, so I had some hope that I could get it. Luckily, the question I got was one I knew (at what stage of the siege on Ba Sing Se did Lu Ten die), and while I kinda didn’t get the question fully right, since I had no idea what they meant by stage, I answered that he died right as they broke through the wall and they were about to invade Ba Sing Se. Which Janet Varney accepted, ha. They told us to give our email addresses to a staff member to the side and they’d contact us about shipping out our prizes later, since they’re supposed to be a nice, more deluxe prize. After a week passed I was a bit skeptical about getting contacted, especially with the previously mentioned concern over my last name, but I finally got contacted which is a relief. ^-^)

(Oh! Also, I took video of them doing live script reads from the show, even though I don’t technically think I was supposed to?? No one has requested I take it down yet, though, so if you’re curious you can click on this link to see the YT video I made of it. They did three scenes, the one where Toph meets Iroh in season two, the scene where Iroh and Zuko reunite in the White Lotus Camp in season three, and the “father lord” scene also from season three. They also did a read of a comic book page with Iroh and June, but since I was on line for trivia at that point, the view is very obscured, and you can overhear the lady who was getting our signatures to acknowledge that we were going to be featured on a recording for a podcast. I also missed a bit of the beginning of the scene, but it was still cute, so I decided to add it to my video, ha. The actual podcast episode will be coming out at a later date?? From what I’ve seen of past live recordings, it can take months before they’re released, but if anyone does watch that podcast, you’ll hear/maybe see (if they post on YT) me answering trivia correctly for once, ha.)

[meazalykov]

cry for help

jana fernandez x emotionalsupport!reader

summary: sometimes the strong one needs help too

warnings: angst, mentions of injury

it’s almost a daily routine now, early mornings and late nights. 

whenever your phone rings, it’s hardly ever a surprise—you already know it’s going to be someone from the team. you’re a solid foundation, the person everyone knows will pick up no matter what time it is.

your teammates joke about it, calling you the “rock of our team,” and they’re not wrong. 

you’re the one they lean on, whether it’s for a ride to training, advice, or just an ear to listen.

like today, you’ve been up since six am, your phone vibrating beside you as you lace up your sneakers. vicky is texting, asking for a ride to training because her car’s in the shop. 

without hesitation, you reply, “on my way,” grabbing your keys and heading out the door. you pull up in front of vicky’s place a little while later, watching her jog out of her building, bag slung over her shoulder and water bottle in hand. 

she slides into the passenger seat, already mid-sentence about some random topic that has her laughing, and you can’t help but laugh along too. these car rides have become tradition, a time to catch up on everything, from gossip to game plans, and while they’re usually light-hearted, 

you know she appreciates it more than she lets on. she’s been through some tough moments recently for a teenager, and if a ride can make her day easier, then you’re all in.

you’ve always been this way. giving, helping, always ready to step up. the team is like family, and you’d do anything for them. so when lucia calls later that week, her voice shaky over the phone, you drop everything and go. 

she’s curled up on her couch when you arrive, looking small and fragile in a way that’s so unlike her usual confident self. it doesn’t take long for her to break down, admitting that her relationship has fallen apart. it’s raw and real, and she’s hurting. 

she says something about feeling lost, like she’s somehow failed, and you’re there, holding her hand, listening without judgment. 

hours go by, the sky darkening outside, but you don’t move until she finally nods off, exhausted but calmer. you leave a note, reminding her that she’s strong, that this pain will pass, and that she’s not alone.

that’s always been your role—to be the steady one, the one people call when things get tough. and yet, you realize, it’s been a while since anyone’s asked you how you’re doing. they wouldn’t know that lately, it feels like the weight of everything is pressing down on you. 

maybe it’s because you’ve always handled things on your own, always managed to keep it together even when the pressure builds up. you don’t even go to your girlfriend of two years, jana, whenever you need help. maybe it’s because they’re so used to you being the strong one that they forget you might need a little support, too.

christmas rolls around, and you’re spending it with esmee and her girlfriend, danielle, who flew in from the netherlands. you can feel the holiday spirit in the air, the warmth and laughter filling esmee’s place as the three of you decorate, wrapping garlands around door frames and untangling strings of lights. danielle is vibrant, animated, bringing a bit of her dutch charm into the mix, and for a few hours, you find yourself relaxing. 

there’s no expectation here, no one needing anything from you but your company. as the night goes on, you end up chatting on the couch, talking about everything from football to travel plans, and esmee’s laughter is contagious, filling the room with a joy that feels so comforting. 

it’s one of those rare moments where you feel lighter, like maybe you don’t have to carry everything on your shoulders all the time.

as the season kicks back in, the demands on you only grow. it’s almost amusing how quickly your phone fills up with requests—from organizing things for alexia and olga’s event to helping ingrid after she got injured on the pitch. 

you’re coordinating outfits, setting up rides, and giving pep talks before games. nobody else seems to notice how exhausted you are, and maybe that’s partly your own fault. you don’t let on. you smile, you reassure, you show up—every time, every day.

during el claisco– you take a hard tackle before halftime. it’s bad, but you grit your teeth and force yourself to get back up, brushing it off as if it’s nothing. the last thing you want is anyone worrying about you; it’s easier that way, to be the one who doesn’t need anything. 

even as your leg throbs, a hot wave of pain radiating from your hamstrings, you push forward. you tell yourself you’re fine, that you can handle it. you’ve been through worse. and there’s a part of you that’s desperate to keep playing, to prove something, maybe to yourself, maybe to everyone else. 

you’d scored last game, but in your mind, it’s not enough. it’s never enough.

in the locker room at halftime, you pull on a fresh shirt, forcing yourself to act like the throbbing in your knee is nothing but a minor ache. the team talks tactics, voices buzzing around you, but it’s hard to focus as you keep adjusting your weight off your right leg, gritting your teeth every time you have to stand. 

you feel jana’s eyes on you from across the room, catching every wince, every small shift.

she doesn’t say anything at first, just watches. as you make your way toward the door to head back out, she steps in front of you, blocking your path. 

“you’re not fine,” she says quietly, her eyes sharp. 

“i can see it every time you put pressure on your leg.”

“i’m fine,” you say, voice firm but maybe too quick. she knows you too well, sees through every front you’ve ever put up, and today is no different.

jana shakes her head, not buying it for a second. 

“no. you’re hurt, and if you’re not going to tell the coach, then i will.”

a jolt of panic runs through you. 

“jana, please,” you say, your voice dropping. there’s a sadness there, a desperation. you don’t want to leave the game. you don’t want everyone thinking you’re weak.

her expression softens, but her tone stays resolute. 

“then tell the coach yourself that you can’t keep going. go to the medic. please, for once, let yourself be honest.”

the look in her eyes is all it takes. you nod slowly, and with a heavy heart, you walk to the coach, explaining that you can’t play the rest of the match. you can’t even look at your teammates on the way out, avoiding every concerned glance as you head toward the medic room. 

each step feels like an admission of defeat, and the sting of it burns even more than the pain in your knee.

sitting alone in the small room, it’s quiet, unbearably so. for the first time in a long time, you feel the weight of it all pressing down on you, every bit of responsibility and expectation you’ve been carrying. you’ve always been strong for everyone else, but now, when it’s your turn to be looked after, all you feel is a raw, aching sense of failure. 

the tears come before you can stop them, silent and steady, until you’re caught in a wave of emotions you’ve been holding back for far too long.

the sound of the door opening breaks through your thoughts, and you look up, surprised to see both alexia and jana standing there. they’ve been taken off the pitch, and somehow got permission to come see you. 

alexia steps forward first, her hand gentle on your shoulder. 

“do you want to talk about it?” she asks softly.

jana, ever perceptive, doesn’t leave it as a question. she moves closer, searching your face, her expression filled with understanding and a quiet determination. she knows you don’t open up easily, knows you’d rather hide behind that strength everyone admires. 

“tell us what’s really going on,” she says gently but firmly.

you take a shaky breath, looking between them. 

“it’s el clasico… i wanted to score so badly. i needed to.” your voice cracks, the weight of the words catching you off guard. 

“i don’t know why i’m pushing myself like this. i just… i feel like i have to prove that i belong here.”

alexia squeezes your shoulder, and you can tell she understands. she’s had her own battles, her own struggles with injuries and expectations. 

“you don’t need to prove anything. you just signed a renewal. the team believes in you.”

jana’s hand finds yours, her fingers threading through, grounding you. 

alexia gives your shoulder a final reassuring squeeze before stepping back. 

“i’ll go back to the bench, but… take your time. we’re here when you need us.” she leaves quietly.

you let out a shaky breath, the last of your tears finally slowing. jana’s hand is steady on your back, her presence warm and grounding, and for the first time in a long while, you feel a sliver of relief breaking through the weight.

she pulls back just enough to look you in the eyes, her gaze soft but unwavering. 

“you don’t have to do this alone, you know,” she whispers. her hand reaches up, brushing a tear from your cheek with a tenderness that nearly undoes you all over again. 

“let me be strong for you, too.”

the words sink in, deeper than you could have ever expected. this strength you’ve always tried to carry for everyone else—it’s okay to let go of it sometimes. 

maybe you don’t have to be the rock every day. not when your girlfriend is here, right beside you, who’s ready to share the weight.

“okay,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. it’s a start. you let yourself lean into her embrace once more, feeling the warmth and security of her arms, and for once, you let yourself just be held.

she doesn’t let go, and neither do you.

masterlist

[lordprettyflackotara]

summer of sam || sam golbach

SMUT. MINORS DNI. 18+. wooo it’s getting hot in here. tw: subby sam, stripper/dom reader, humiliation, degrading, overstimulation, sub/dom dynamics in place, dry humping, choking, etc this is just complete and utter filth. ps: this is my first time writing the male to be submissive on this blog. W? L?

You were a professional at what you did.

Every summer in between college semesters you’d work the same strip club, earnings thousands of dollars all summer long. Ohio wasn’t known for its popularity in exotic dancers what so ever, your presence spicing up an otherwise dead club.

Over time you had grown a consistent fan base of men who awaited your return every summer. You were now on year five, your degree so close to being obtained you could practically taste it. It’s what kept you motivated to keep coming back. You had to pay for your degree somehow even if it was deemed shameful by your peers. Which is why you traveled to a town in Ohio far from your hometown, determined to make enough funds to scrape by the semester.

It was only week two of your return, word of your arrival spreading through the town. In an odd way it made you all jittery, feeling like a little celebrity. You were in your dressing room, pampering yourself with makeup before your set time on stage. Your eyes flickered to the door opening behind you, continuing to pat your brush across your cheek. Your body guard was the sweetest man alive, his chocolate eyes meeting yours.

“Hi Tommy, big crowd?” You asked. You had met Tom during year two of your ‘career’, the man fully dedicated to protecting you from creeps. “I’d say so, but I have an offer from a new comer. Wants a private dance,” He informed you. You set your brush aside on the vanity, grabbing a tube of lipstick. “As if, that crowd out there will provide me ten times whatever he could,” You replied. Tom cleared his throat, your gaze straying away from your plump lips to him. In his hand sat two wads of cash.

“This is fifteen thousand. He offered more if you come.”

You never did private dances. You had admittedly become egotistical over time, your time precious during the hotter season. The private dances were no where near as cash filled as public ones were. Undoubtedly you were the star of the show in this little town and you belonged in the spotlight. Your eyebrows had furrowed at the wads of cash, quickly sliding out of your chair. Your heels clicked as you grabbed one, running your thumb through it.

“They’re real?” You questioned. You already knew the answer, the tiny bumps across the blue band of the hundred dollar bills giving it away. “Every single one. He’s in room six,” Tom answered you. You nodded, handing him back the wad. “Stand outside of the room if you don’t mind. I want to see what this guy is all about,” You say.

You had almost forgotten what the hallway to the private rooms looked like, new purple led lights illuminating the dim hallway. Finding room six was a breeze, the numbers in bold letters hammered to the doors. You glanced over at Tom, nodding affirmatively for him to stand by its side. You shook off your nerves, remembering who you were. How many men would die to be in this one’s position. Your slender fingers gripped the doorknob, pushing it open.

The sight before you was not one you expected, a clean cut blonde sitting on the middle of a circular couch. His legs were spread, thin framed glasses sitting on his nose. His blue eyes met yours instantly, an undeniable intensity flooding the room. Tom closed the door behind you, giving you some privacy. The blonde awkwardly stood up, adjusting his tie. “Hi, i’m Sam,” He greeted. You watched as he held out his hand to you, waiting for you to shake it. You tried to conceal your confusion, shaking his hand. Your stage name fell off of your lips with ease,

“I’m Kailani.”

Sam cleared his throat. “Here um, sit sit,” He said, gesturing to the purple velvet couch. You followed his request, sitting down. “So Sam, what exactly did you request me here for?” You asked. Sam sat down as well, visibly nervous. He ran his fingers through his hair. “For a private dance..?” He replied, his tone sounding as if he was asking a question more than answering. You raised an eyebrow. “Sweetheart no one around here pays fifteen thousand just for my consideration. What do you actually want?” You asked. Sam gulped, his adams apple moving as he fidgeted with his hands.

“It’s kind of a long story,” He began. You could feel your patience thinning. “Time is money and unless you plan on beginning to pay me for this I will not-” You began. Your words were sharply cut off as Sam reached in his pocket, setting another wad of cash on the clear coffee table in front of you. “That cover it?” He asked you. Affirmatively you nodded.

“My name is Sam Golbach, i’m a famous youtuber with an obsessed fanbase. I’m from here and heard through the great vine about you. Might I just add you’re even hotter in person,” Sam began. His name didn’t ring a bell, but his face did look vaguely familiar. “I’m here because you’re just as discreet about your line of work as I am about what I do in my spare time in the bedroom,” He continued. You arched an eyebrow, questioning his words. “You’re very obviously not from here, only here during the summer. My guess is that you’re in college or something similar, probably in a different state,” He answered.

Your stone cold expression fell, your face visibly telling Sam everything he needed to know. You felt the urge to get up and leave, the blonde seemingly reading your mind. “No no listen I totally get it, i’m not here to judge you or anything,” He rambled. Your eyes shot daggers as they met his blue ones. “Get on with it. What do you want?” You questioned.

“It is extremely hard for me to get laid without the media making a big deal out of it, I have some things I want to uh, try in the bedroom that the media would have a field day with,” Sam told you. You audibly scoffed, rising to your feet. “I’m not a goddamn prostitute. So what was your big idea? To come here and have me call you daddy and beg for your cock? Fuck you,” You snapped. Hastily you turned towards the door, Sam’s large hand grabbing your waist. You began to protest, Sam’s meek words cutting you off.

“Quite the opposite,” He said. He was practically shaking with nerves, his cheeks flushed pink. You froze in your tracks, looking at the desperate blonde. “I-I want you to use me. To treat me like a slut or something. I don’t want to be in control,” Sam explained. His cheeks were turning a deeper shade of red, his hand dropping from your wrist. He reached into his back pocket, pulling out a black credit card. “If we make this arrangement for the entire summer, this is yours. It’ll pay off anything you need it to. Until next summer, where I’d like to do all of this again,” He offered.

You took the tiny piece of metal between your fingers. You had never held such a heavy credit card before. “What are your conditions?” You questioned. Sam lowered himself back onto the couch, rubbing the back of his neck. “No stripping while i’m around, which will be all summer. Obviously no telling anyone you ever saw me and um, I want it rough,” He answered. The offer was tempting, the boy in front of you practically a puppy dying to be played with. “Any hard limits I need to know about?” You asked.

“No anal, nothing too weird, I guess. I just want you to use me. I want to be your submissive who you use to get off.”

“And you want to start now?”

“Please.”

Fuck, his desperation was making your core throb. You slowly approached him, straddling him as you looked down at his flushed face. “Safe word is red if you want to stop for any reason,” You whispered, leaning close to his ear. Your breath was hot against his skin, a small groan escaping his lips. You rolled your hips against his, the blonde below you audibly whimpering. “There we go, keep making those pretty noises for me,” You cooed. You brought your index finger and middle to his lips, pulling them down teasingly.

“Open your mouth,” You purred. Sam opened his mouth, flattening his tongue out on display for you. You grinned devilishly as you shoved your fingers into your mouth. He groaned as you grinded down against him. “There we go, now the harder you suck them the faster I grind against that hard cock of yours, hmm?” You offered. Sam nodded profusely, groaning around your fingers as you rolled your hips against his. Your thin red panties bottoms creating the perfect amount of friction against your clit. You moaned as he swirled his tongue around your fingers, his hands placing themselves on your hips.

They slithered to your ass, massaging the mounds of flesh as you grinded against him. His whining noises were music to your ears. “Such a good boy for me, aren’t you?” You say. Sam’s eyes began to roll into the back of his head, bobbing profusely on your fingers. “I’m gonna cum,” He moaned around your fingers, his words muffled. You grinned, a sadistic idea coming into your mind. If he wanted to be treated like a fucktoy, you’d treat him like a filthy fucktoy. “Go on, cum for me you pathetic thing,” You ordered. His hips stuttered, loud groans muffled by your fingers as he came in his pants.

You took your fingers out of his mouth, bringing them to your own. You licked his saliva off, his blue eyes blown with lust. Sam swallowed as he admired you. “Let me taste you, please,” He whispered. You grabbed his face, teasingly dragging his bottom lip downwards. “Get on your knees and keep begging. I’ll think about it,” You ordered. Sam quickly slithered out from underneath you, dropping to his knees without a second thought. He looped his fingers around your panties, your hand stopping him.

“Oh baby boy I didn’t say you could use your hands,” You chuckled darkly. Sam was in a state of euphoric bliss, your degrading words making his cock grow harder in his cum soaked boxers. You spread your thighs, the blonde nuzzling in between them. He put his hands on your knees, his submissive mind trying to figure out how to obey you. You frowned at his hands on your knees. “You just can’t stop using those hands of yours,” You noted. You leaned forward, the blondes breath hitching as you undid his tie.

He could smell your perfume as you leaned over him, grabbing his hands and tying them behind his back with his own tie. Sam gulped nervously as you sat back, giving him a mischievous smile. “Go on baby boy, put that tongue of yours to good use,” You cooed mockingly. Sam brought his head in between your thighs, biting the hem of your panties with his teeth. You bit your bottom lip as he dragged them down your thighs, your core throbbing in anticipation. This is what you deserved, a rich submissive man who was willing to do whatever you wanted.

Sam dragged your panties down to your ankles, watching you slowly step out of them. He nuzzled himself back in between your thighs, flattening his tongue against your folds. He groaned at your taste, your cunts sweetness an addicting sensation. “You taste so sweet,” He mumbled into your slick, his eyes fluttering shut. Your hips had a mind of their own, grinding shamelessly against Sam’s eager tongue. He sucked and lapped at your clit, before teasingly sticking it inside of your entrance. Your fingers raked through the roots of his hair, tugging at the roots.

The pain only made Sam moan louder, his cock growing fully erect in his pants. You could feel the cord inside your stomach tighten. You’d never had a submissive partner before, your core on fire from the pleasure the eager blonde was giving you. You’d never felt more empowered. “You’re doing such a good job Sammy, just like that,” You moaned. Sam whined as he shifted awkwardly in his pants, seeking any sort of friction for his own throbbing needs. He latched his lips around your clit, sucking harshly as you finally came.

Once the blonde saw your legs tremble, he began lapping up the juices you had produced. It was like a reward. “Just like that. Lick me clean or I won’t touch you,” You threatened, swallowing to regain your authoritative tone. Once you were satisfied with Sam’s performance you grabbed him by his button up, switching places with him once more. Your fingers played with his belt, your doe eyes meeting his. “May I?” You asked. He nodded profusely, licking his lips.

“Please.”

He lifted his hips, the two of you managed to slide his pants and boxers down to his ankles. In front of you was his hard cock, his cum covering the sides. “Such a filthy little boy, making a mess like this,” You commented. You straddled his hips, lining yourself up with his cock. Your eyes met his blue ones, studying his face carefully. “This okay?” You whispered. You leaned closer to the trembling man, his face flushed pink from lust. “More than okay, please,” Sam whined. You smirked as you lowered yourself on his cock, biting your bottom lip to hold back your own moans.

His cock was stretching you much wider than you had taken before, your walls fluttering around his cock. “Oh my God,” Sam groaned, throwing his head back. Once you sank fully onto him you grabbed his throat, your slender fingers applying pressure to the sides. “Look at me while I fuck you slut,” You ordered sternly. Sam forced himself to look at you, his hips attempting to move upwards to fuck you. He needed you. He needed you now. “Awe are you really trying to fuck me? Like the filthy whore you are?” You asked mockingly. Sam groaned as you applied less pressure, your hand still settled on his throat.

“N-need it. Need you. So bad,” Sam whimpered. He wished he could touch you, his hands still bound behind his back with his own tie. It was so demeaning, so humiliating. Yet he adored every second of it. He knew from the moment he saw you that you were the one for him. The one he wanted to give control to. To dedicate his body to. As you rolled your hips against his you could feel the vibrations of Sam’s whimpers against your hand through his throat. Sam was a panting mess, your hips bouncing on his cock faster by the second.

“My fucking God- you are so tight,” Sam panted. You squeezed his neck tighter, his vision becoming hazy. “Yeah? Fuck you’re such a cute little thing,” You huffed, his cock abusing your g spot with each roll of your hips. Your hand released his throat, his lungs immediately gasping for air. You wouldn’t ever admit it, but he felt fucking amazing. Far better than any other man you’d ever had. You weren’t proud to admit your career didn’t start off on such a high note, your legs having been opened for one too many creeps.

You’d had all kinds of affairs and arrangements, ones that fizzled out immediately. But Sam? The whimpering mess beneath you? You wanted to ride him like this forever. You felt yourself getting close to the edge, taking his cock as you pleased. “Mmm i’m close,” You murmured, biting your bottom lip. Sam was convinced he hadn’t seen anything near as sexy as you cumming on his cock. Your walls spasming around him sent him into a frenzy, his dick twitching and cumming inside of you. His face was beet red, his mouth dry as he panted below you. You were a slice of heaven, one he wanted to experience every chance he could.

You grinned as you leaned back, before lifting yourself off of him. Sam had foolishly expected it to be over, before watching you drop to your knees. “W-what are you doing?” He questioned softly. He watched in fear and lust as you licked up the side of his shaft. “I’m cleaning you up silly, i’m not rude you know. I have manners,” You answered. You began bobbing your head up and down his cock, his shaft growing harder in your mouth with each passing second. He squirmed as you swirled your tongue around his shaft, sucking both of your juices off of him. His body trembled as you licked his slit.

“Holy fuck that’s t-too much I-” Sam babbled. You pulled off of his cock, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his tip. You pumped him with your hand, giving him a devilish smirk. “You can handle it. Let me clean you up. Be a good boy for me and take it,” You told him. Sam threw his head back as you began to deep throat him, your gagging only turning him on more. “I didn’t say you could look away Sammy. Look at me. Watch as I suck out your soul,” You purred. The blonde forced himself to look down at you, his legs trembling as you resumed sucking his cock.

His moans were incoherent babbles. “Fuck fuck fuck i’m so close,” He whined. The pleasure was becoming painful, your devious tongue and sinful lips showing no signs of stopping. You wanted to milk him dry. Sam’s hips jerked upwards as he came, his cum painting the inside of your mouth. You swallowed it with ease, before teasingly licking his slit. “You taste good,” You praised. You pulled away from his cock, the blonde shaking from euphoria.

You could feel his cum leaking down your upper thighs, an unholy idea popping into your head. You stood up, grabbing him by his shirt and forcing him to lay back on the couch. You straddled yourself over his head, your cunt inches away from his face, his blue eyes meeting yours, awaiting instructions. “Go ahead, why don’t you find out how you taste Sammy?”

[written-in-flowers]

A-Tease Lesson: OT8 X Fem!reader

Pairing: OT8 X fem!reader

Genre: smut, so much smut. /AU: sugar baby

Word Count: 16k

Summary: On the first day of shooting your variety show, "YNteez", you're forced to wear a school girl outfit and call all your boyfriends 'Oppa'. With the game's objective being who can make who cum first, you know you're doomed when Yunho walks in with a special bag of surprises.

Disclaimer: These works are completely fictitious and for entertainment purposes only. They are not meant to reflect or label the members of ATEEZ in any way. The events within never took place. Thank you.

Tags: polyamory, established relationship, cringey porn plot, teacher/student roleplay, school roleplay, sexual roleplay, anal sex, vaginal sex, sex toys, dildo, group sex, orgy, voyeurism, protected sex, oral sex (m. and f. giving/receiving) rough oral sex, touching, exhibitionism, corruption kink, virginity kink, spanking, titjobs, nipple play, double penetration, overstimulation, multiple partners, multiple orgasms, classroom sex, restraints, light bondage, light dom/sub themes, degradation, pet names, tickling, facials, bukkake, loads of aftercare, a break in the middle of it.

Previously on Idol Companion

***

Nerves buzzed around your insides as you stood outside the classroom door. You felt like the new kid at school all over again, except you weren't. You're a grown woman acting as a student for the benefit of your first variety show. 

It isn’t uncommon for Idol Companions to get their own variety shows or be guest stars in the ones their significant others have, and you’re not an exception. You told the members you’re fine being part of Wanteez, which is their show, but Atinys wanted you to have your own. You’re positive part of this reason is because companion shows tend to be 19+ with lots of suggestive and sometimes blatantly sexual themes. But, you did love their fans who’d accepted you so easily on debut week, that you couldn’t deny them when they tweeted about it in droves. 

You talked to your agent and the management team about the different episodes, which they told you would be filmed out of order. Since the school couldn’t be rented outside of the summer months, it'd have to be the first one you shot. YNteez would be premiering right after Wanteez’s current season ended, which gave plenty of time to film everything they needed.

The day’s episode was set at “Ateez High School”. The members pretended to be transfer students, all with their own roles and concepts. You're meant to be the school's first female student; the little underclassman who calls all the boys 'oppa' and acts cute. It made you sick. You cringed thinking about being the school girl archetype and having to call even the younger members 'oppa'. You know you'll never live it down. 

The episode’s main ‘mission’ is for one side to make the other orgasm in a certain amount of time. If the boys manage to make you cum before school ends, they win. If you somehow, miraculously bring them all to orgasm before then, you win. It was undoubtedly unfair; the whole point is for the members to win, since fans never like seeing their faves lose at anything. There is only one of you; there are eight of them. What’s worse is that they’re your boyfriends. You’ve been together for six years now. They know your body inside and out, and they clearly have the upperhand in this. You know they won’t hesitate to cheat too. 

All for a new ramen cooker. 

A part of you isn’t bothered by this fact. The last time you’d done something this strenuous was the gangbang orgy back in the shared dorm. You remembered the aches and sore muscles following the act, and alongside those memories came the members’ gentleness with you. None of them “came after” you for weeks afterwards, since they’d been warned that any sexual penetration might hurt you further. The most they’d asked for were kisses, cuddles and the occasional handjob or fleshlight toy. The thought that you’d be the center of another orgy excited you slightly. You might even lose on purpose so you can let them ruin you all over again. Memories of riding Seonghwa while Wooyoung used your mouth sent shivers down to your core. Of course, you’ll hold your orgasm as long as possible, but you knew you’d fail. You could never edge yourself. You always did it wrong or you stop past the point of no return anyways. Hongjoong tried teaching you once, but you’d cum despite his instructions. 

Your episode takes place in the supposed ‘Ateez High School’ where the boys filmed the previous day. You could see the boys through a crack in the window next to the door. They sat in basic school uniforms, listening to the game rules be explained by a producer. Your body turned numb when you realized how screwed you are in this game. You knew you’d have to use your own knowledge of the members’ bodies if you want to win. When you turned to look at them, your eyes met Hongjoong’s through the crack, and he smirked at you smugly. The other members will be easy marks, but Hongjoong…He will be their ace today. He knows your body more than any of them, and he is also an ‘edging master’. Years of practice and self-teaching made it easy for him to maintain total control of his own pleasure. He once told you he practices often, and you regretted not doing the same. Because, they all knew it: You can’t fight off an orgasm to save your life. It wasn’t something you ever needed to do until you met Ateez. 

You'd started to think them over when the director snapped you from your thoughts and motioned you to open the sliding door. The moment you did, the members all stared at you in stunned silence. You supposed the director told them to act 'stunned' by your appearance. You wore the white short sleeved button down and the pleated plaid skirt of the typical school uniform. Your pink backpack, and hair done up in buns on top of your head, you radiated the ‘cute, innocent’ schoolgirl concept well. You’d thought it was stupid up until you saw the members’ reactions. 

The members, sitting in various parts of the room, did nothing to hide their amazement at you in your costume. Jaws dropped. Eyes widened and glued themselves to you. However, now that you stood in the classroom, you noticed Yunho was missing. You swept over the other members, counting each head, and only found seven. He couldn’t be late since he’d arrived with you. You supposed there is some surprise element you weren’t told to add more shock value. With a sweet grin, you still walked into the room holding the straps of your bookbag and spoke in an innocent tone.

"Hello," you said, bowing to the group, "My name is YLN YN, and I'm a transfer student from Seoul."

"But you're a girl," Yeosang said, still looking you up and down. "This is a boy's school."

"I'm the school's first female student," you answered, twisting your hips cutely and letting them see your skirt sway with it. "I can't wait for us to all be friends."

"I can't wait for us to be friends either," sighed Seonghwa, his eyes focused on the bit of thigh your skirt showed. The rest of the members chuckled but you looked away shyly. 

"Oppa…" you internally cringed saying it, despite it being correct to use with Seonghwa who is a year older than you. You saw him bite his bottom lip as you said it. He never made you use formal names with him since you're his girlfriend. But, you knew he liked it sometimes, especially right now. "I don't know where to sit," you followed your next line. 

"Sit here!" Wooyoung patted the seat next to him excitedly.

"Sit with me!" San called from the back, waving his arm. 

"I have the best seat and I'm the class president," Yeosang said, raising his hand and smiling. 

"I'm the strongest student in the class," said Jongho, straightening up to flex muscles. "I can protect you from bullies."

"I'm an idol trainee," Hongjoong said, "That means I'm going to be famous one day and I can sing you songs whenever you want." 

"I'm a nice guy, sit with me!" Mingi called out, “We can be friends!”

Seonghwa only stared at you, biting the inside of his cheek. You knew exactly what ran through his mind and you won't lie, it excited you. Especially with how the stylist framed his strong, broad body in his uniform and he wore his black hair in the parted, undercut style you favored immensely. How could you resist that? He's also the sort of senior classman a girl like you would gravitate towards, being older and “wiser” than you. You ignored the other boys and said:

"I think I should sit with the oldest boy," you said, eyeing Seonghwa and walking over to him. "Is it okay if I sit with you, Seonghwa-oppa?"

"Of course," he said, watching you take the seat beside him. "Oppa will look after you," he grinned when you sat down, "Don't worry."

You giggled when he tapped your nose and butterflies hit your stomach. The rest of the class groaned disappointedly, and the teacher made his entrance. It was Yunho. He wore fake glasses, a white button down and black slacks. As much as you liked his appearance, it was the duffle bag he kept slung over your shoulder. Your stomach twisted into knots at the sight of it. This must be the ‘surprise addition’ the director mentioned. He’d assured you it wasn’t anything extreme, since the members chose the idea themselves, so you hadn’t been worried. Catching Yunho’s eye as he put the bag on the desk, he smirked. Your toy lover. Yunho’s personal toy collection expanded far beyond what the group shared. You knew he kept his stack of containers hidden in his closet, labeled according to type. He’d used most of it on you by this point, so you’re more than familiar with his collection. 

You’re sure some of his favorites are in there. 

“Good morning, class,” he began, despite the members all stifling their laughter. “My name is Mr. Jeong, and I’ll be your sexual arts teacher this afternoon.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” Hongjoong called out, trying to hide his amused smile, “The ‘what’ arts?” 

“Sexual arts,” Yunho replied, equally holding back his own blushing laugh. You know once you’re naked and the toys are out, all shyness will disappear. “We here at Ateez High School believe it’s important our male students know how to satisfy their partners. I have brought with me some tools to get you started,” he patted the box, “But first, let’s go with the basics.”

“We’re really just diving in, huh?” chuckled Mingi. “No warm up or anything, sir?”

“He’s eager to get down to it,” Seonghwa joked. 

“This teacher doesn’t mess around,” said Jongho from beside you. 

“Hey, education is important, okay?” defended Yeosang. “Please, pay attention.”

“Look at Yeosang-hyung,” Wooyoung laughed behind him, poking his shoulder. “He’s blushing already.”

“I’m not blushing-” lied Yeosang, who covered his pink cheeks. 

“-Settle down, settle down, please,” Yunho called to the room. “Let’s get the lesson going.”

“Teacher is very serious about learning,” said Hongjoong. 

"I've always liked teachers who are serious about teaching their students new things,” you said loud enough for Yunho to hear. You straighten your posture to bring your breast into view when he looks over at you. "I'm always excited about new material."

“Oh,” he breathed, “You’ll learn plenty of new material today.”

You giggled and smiled, which only added to the concept you played. Yunho went to the bag and began pulling out the sex toys he’d brought. He set a small pink dildo and a thicker, longer blue one. Next, he withdrew an anal plug decorated with a pink heart-shaped gem, alongside a rod of beads ranging from large to small. Then, he placed down a handful of lavender colored bullets connected to controllers; a body wand vibrator, a suction vibrator, and a clear sleeve and a flesh-colored one. The members laughed as the amount of toys increased. 

“It’s a bottomless bag,” San laughed, seeing Yunho set down a small bag of cockrings.

“It’s like that bag Mary Poppins uses,” joked Hongjoong. Yunho pulled out a chain that had small nipple clamps on each end. “It’s connected to his little cabinet at home, and he’s just reaching in,” he acted out removing things from the bag. 

“I like to have the appropriate tools,” excused Yunho, forcing back his laugh as he withdrew handcuffs that matched the gag. 

“That’s a lot of tools, sir,” said Mingi, who let out another laugh when Yunho put down the flesh lights. 

“What are they for, Mr. Jeong?” you asked innocently, pretending to be oblivious to the implication. 

“They’re to have fun with,” answered Seonghwa, whose eyes fell to your lips. 

A distinct warmth on your knee made you gasp softly. You looked down to see his hand gently tracing circles on your knee. The delicate touch of his fingers on your bare skin prickled. 

“What kind of fun, Oppa?” 

“You’ll see,” he said in a low, sultry tone. “Be a good girl and pay attention to the teacher.”

“Okay.” 

He put his hand back on your knee, and this time slipped it further upwards, still drawing small patterns as he did so. You squirmed slightly at the hand massaging your inner thigh, nearly caving into the touch easily. Damn him. This show would’ve been fine earlier in your relationship, when they didn’t know you as well. But now after several years of dating, they know every single weak point. Yunho finally finished unpacking his bag, putting down a bottle of lubricant and a variety of condoms. He addressed the classroom. 

“The first part of our lesson today will be discussing female anatomy,” he said, putting on a professional front despite his pink cheeks. “Then, we will move onto a few toy demonstrations-” 

“-a few?-” interrupted Jongho, shocked by the amount on the table. 

“-And finally you’ll get to practice on your own.”

Seonghwa’s hand moved upwards on your thigh, and you bit your lower lip. You made a weak attempt to push him away, but it didn’t work. Yunho turned around and pulled down a diagram of a pair of breasts and a vagina. Your cheeks burned hot.

“This, students, is what people call a ‘pussy’,” Yunho said, gesturing to the photo. “It has a lot of names, but the general term is-”

“-Is that what they look like?” Mingi asked with wide eyes, but this was ruined when he laughed. 

“Eh, I’ve seen nicer ones,” smirked Hongjoong, who looked over at you then his brow furrowed at your expression. With a quick glance down, he held back a laugh and looked at Yunho. 

“All pussies are pretty,” said Yeosang with a small smile. “Regardless of what they look like.” 

“What are the things on the top, sir?” asked Wooyoung, who then bit his lip to not laugh. 

“These are called ‘breasts’,” Yunho answered. 

Yunho started explaining the various pleasure points on the female body. You tried paying attention, but Seonghwa’s hand made that difficult. 

“Oppa,” you whispered, putting your hand on his but not pushing it away. 

“I’m sorry. I can’t help it,” he whispered to you, “You look so cute in that uniform.” His hand went far enough that it lifted your skirt over your thighs. “We should ask the stylist if we can take it home. I’ve always wanted to dress you up before I fuck you.” 

“Hwa,” you whimpered, putting your thighs together to trap his hand. Your squished thighs did nothing to stop your pussy from throbbing slightly. “We’re supposed to be paying attention. I don’t want to get a bad grade.”

“I think you’ll be fine, YN-ssi,” he replied in your ear. “The teacher likes you a lot.” 

Seonghwa grasped your thigh, fingers pressing into the innermost part close to your sex, and you kept yourself staring straight ahead. You tried keeping his hand from going closer, because you knew you’re a goner if he touched your center. But, Seonghwa still managed to press three fingers right against the thin panties.

“-This is the clitoris,” you heard Yunho say. “It’s a small-”

The very tip of Seonghwa’s finger circled around your clit lightly, and the sensations flared up in your body. You shifted from him, but not by much since you’re surrounded by people. You caught the eye of Jongho, who sat at the table on your right, and he smirked knowingly. 

“Excuse me, sir,” Jongho raised his hand. 

“Yes, Jongho-ssi?”

“I think Seonghwa-hyung and YN-ssi are a few steps ahead of us.” 

“Traitor,” Seonghwa hissed at him, removing his hand from your sex. 

“Seonghwa-ssi,” Yunho called to him, still playing his ‘teacher’ role despite the age differences, “Where are your hands?”

“Here,” Seonghwa innocently raised them above the desk, “Jongho’s lying.”

“Am not!”

“YN-ssi?”

“Yes?” 

“Why don’t you come up here and help me with the next part of our lesson? I think the others will understand better with a demonstration,” he told you. 

“Good idea, sir,” Wooyoung gave him an approving thumbs up. 

“We’re visual learners,” San nodded. 

These comments made the others laugh, but you carefully stood up and tried avoiding the warmth between your thighs. Yunho leaned on the edge of the desk, and guided you to his lap. You heard the deep inhale of breath he took when your body brushed up against his. His dark eyes drank you in for a moment before he looked back to the others. 

“The first thing we do when we’re with a partner,” he said, leaning closer and lifting your chin to look at him, “Is kiss them.”

Yunho’s lips tasted like fresh spearmint as they pressed to yours. Holding your chin, he kissed you in soft pecks at first before locking your lips together. His tongue rolled against yours easily, and you couldn’t help letting out a soft moan when they met. You gripped his arm to keep yourself steady, because you’re sure to get weak knees soon, and gently grinded into his lap. 

“See,” Yunho broke an inch from your lips, “Just simple touches and kisses are a good start.” His hand left your chin as he recaptured your lips, and went to your thigh, where he lightly rubbed the side up and down. “Sofy, nice touches,” he said between kisses, “Gentle and light…enough for them to feel it.” He gripped at your hamstring, letting his fingers graze your ass as he did it, “How is that, YN-ssi? Good?”

“Yes, Mr. Jeong,” you nodded, your pussy starting to throb again. “Is it only kisses on the mouth, though? Can you kiss your partner in other places?”

“Of course,” he briefly kissed you again. “You can kiss here,” he pecked your cheek, “Here,” he moved to your jawline, “And right here too.” 

Your eyes fell shut when he brushed his lips on your neck. His warm breath tickled the flesh there when he started leaving soft kisses on the base. You bit your lip when he started tenderly sucking your neck, even giving small bites before licking over them. When you whimpered, he stopped. 

“I’m sorry, YN-ssi,” he said, “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No,” you shook your head. “I liked it.”

“You liked it?” he asked for confirmation. 

“Yes,” you nodded. 

“Then let’s do the other side, hm?” 

You leaned your head back as he continued kissing your neck. His bulge poked you every time you moved against his lap, and his faint groans tickled you. As much as you wanted to reach down to grab him, you maintained your ‘innocent’ concept. 

“Once,” Yunho forced himself to pull away from you, “Your partner is ready, you can start removing their clothes.”

He stood you between his legs, your back to his chest, and wrapped his arms around you. When he moved to untuck your shirt from your skirt, you grabbed both his wrists. 

“Remove my clothes?” you pouted, wriggling against his crotch still. “Is that part of the lesson?”

“It is,” he replied, putting both your arms behind your back. “You don’t have anything to be shy about,” he assured you, pulling your top from your skirt and starting to unbutton it, “I’m only showing your classmates what it looks like in real life.”

“And who’s a better choice than our cute little dongsaeng, YN?” cooed Seonghwa, who leaned forward on his desk to look at you closely. 

“We all want to do well on our test,” said Yeosang, who fixed his eyes on your breasts, which became more and more visible as Yunho finished unbuttoning you. “You’re pretty whether you’re naked or not.”

“But most certainly when you’re naked,” added Wooyoung, though got a glance from Hongjoong. 

The group awed collectively once Yunho opened your shirt to reveal your bra. You’d decided to go for the virginal vibe, and chose a white bra with lace patterns along the cleavage hem. Your arousal sparked up once you became exposed to them. Yunho cupped both your breasts and sighed deeply. He didn’t say anything as his fingers danced along the curves and seams of your bra before grasping your tits again. He squished them together and rubbed his thumbs over your nipples, which hardered under the fabric. 

“Simple touches,” he repeated, starting to kiss your neck again. “Pinching,” he pinched both your nipples, “And rubbing,” he grazed his tumbs once more, “Is the basics for stimulation. Isn’t that right, YN-ssi?”

“Yes,” you nodded. His touches sent shivers down to your core, where you felt yourself dampening each time. “Sir,” you called meekly, “Is it supposed to throb?”

This drew everyone's attention. “What’s throbbing?” he asked, though he already knew, as he continued rolling your nipples between his fingers. “Your nipples?”

You shook your head, “Down there. That part that’s in the pictures.”

“Yes, sweetie,” he answered, groaning softly at your response. “It’s supposed to. Is it doing that now?” When you nodded, he said, “We’ll get to that part of the lesson in a moment. For now, why don’t we let one of your classmates touch them so they can see how they feel?” His jaw dropped when he tugged down your bra to reveal your bare breasts, a hand taking your nipple between two fingers. “So soft,” he breathed in your ear, “And so nice. They’re the prettiest I’ve ever seen.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” he said, turning your head to kiss you deeply. “And they'll look even prettier by the end of class. Mingi-ssi,” he called over Mingi, “Come and show the class what you learned from the demonstration.” 

Mingi, tall and broad, cropped his hair short and dyed it blond for their comeback. It suited him, and you hated that it suited him because that only amplifies your arousal. Mingi stood in front of you, eyes scanning over your face, before he brought you in for a tender kiss. Full lips easily parted yours to let his tongue in, and large hands grasped your breasts. Mingi’s love for your chest would soon become public knowledge, since he did nothing to hide his admiration of them. 

“I love your tits, you know that?” he whispered to you, even though you’re sure the microphones around the room will pick it up. He gave them a gentle squeeze that added kindling to the fire, “I can never get enough of them.” Without instruction, he bent down to swipe his tongue over your nipple, and smiled when you whimpered. “And they’re so sensitive,” he said, taking it in his mouth to suckle on. 

“Remember the last time you were in between us?” Yunho asked you, breaking his character in this concealed moment. “When you went with us to K-Con and you shared a hotel room with Mingi and I?”

“And we spent so much time teasing each other with just our mouths?” Mingi added, sucking on your other breast now. 

“Yes,” you huffed. “Then we fucked once we couldn’t take it anymore.”

The memory came to you vividly. You’d decided to share a room with Yunho and Mingi, which meant gaming and cuddling together. The ‘cuddling’ then led to kissing, and the kissing led to undressing, and that led to being pressed between your tall boys. 

“That’s what we’re gonna do today,” Mingi said, pecking your lips and squeezing your breasts. “We’re going to tease you with Yunho’s toys until we can’t hold back anymore. Would you like that?”

“I would,” you whimper, pulling him up by the jaw to kiss him again. “Oh, fuck yes, I’d love that.”

They both chuckled and continued fondling and taking turns kissing you until someone spoke. 

“Professor,” Yeosang raised his hand, and you three looked at him, “May I try?”

“Absolutely,” Yunho insisted. 

Yeosang took Mingi’s place, and Mingi sat down nearby. The members grew silent as Yeosang grabbed your tits next. He was meant to be the virginal class president, and he kept to this as he kissed you. Every kiss with Yeosang reminds you of the first: a shy kiss stolen in the darkness of a movie theater. It started with timid kisses that quickly turned heated and passionate. He looked down to see your breast in his hand, and he laughed bashfully. 

“What is it?” you asked, pushing hair from his face. “You don’t like them, Oppa?”

“I do,” he assured you with a kiss, “They’re so soft and squishy.”

“Pfft, ‘squishy’,” you heard Wooyoung say, but didn’t laugh. 

Yunho held back a laugh too, saying instead, “Yes, Yeosang-ssi, they’re supposed to be like that.”

“Will you kiss them too like Mingi-oppa did?” you asked, batting your lashes at him. 

“Can I?”

You nodded, and let out a gentle sigh as he kissed the tops of them first. Yeosang kissed down to one nipple and ran the tip of his tongue around each one. “Are there toys, Professor,” he began, “That I could use on these?”

“There are loads,” Yunho answered. He picked up one of the bullet toys on the table and used the controller to turn it on. The light buzzing made you squirm with delight when he put it right to your nipple, “You see, class, this toy is called a ‘bullet’. Mostly called that for its size and shape, it’s the perfect toy for stimulating certain parts of your partner. Like their nipples,” he carefully traced the toy around one. “Try it, Yeosang.”

“Okay.” 

Yeosang kissed you once more before taking up the opposite breast to tease. When you moaned and grinded into Yunho again, he smiled, “Am I doing it right? I’m not hurting you, am I?”

“No, no,” you shook your head. You pushed your chest closer to him, “It feels really good.” 

“Professor, Professor, Professor, may I give it a try?” asked Wooyoung excitedly, waving his hand in the air. 

Yunho beckoned him forward, and handed him his own bullet. Yeosang stepped to the side, but continued teasing your nipple with the toy. Wooyoung pecked your lips a few times, turning on the bullet and running it down to your other nipple. All the stimulation running through you had your pussy pulsating and pushing back into Yunho. You thought you might climax right then if they didn’t stop. 

“Is this okay?” Wooyoung asked, pushing the toy directly against your nipple so the vibrations went deeper. 

“Yes!”

“Mr. Jeong,” Wooyoung said, “Can we put these in other places too?”

Judging by the smirk he gave your pleading face, Wooyoung had been told to take it a step further. 

“You can,” Yunho answered. “I’ll show you.”

Yunho ran his hands from your stomach to your thighs, where he hooked his hands around the hem of your skirt. Your arms squished between his chest and your back, you couldn’t do anything as he lifted your skirt to reveal your panties. Made of white cotton, a wet spot could be seen clearly against the light fabric, which caused the members to groan in unison. Finally getting a view of the room now, you saw they’d all unbuckled their pants and now stroked themselves under their desks. Your horny boys. Not that you complained. You’d agreed to this entire idea because at the end of the day, you’re as horny as they are. Yunho let you slide off his lap, and he guided you to sit on the desk. 

“Spread out your legs for me,” Yunho instructed, which you obeyed, “And lean back on this.” 

He produced a cushion a staff member must’ve hidden under the desk, and put it down for you to proper yourself on comfortably. Dark blue and wide, you recognized it as the cushion you knelt during the last orgy. 

“Someone’s gotten very wet,” Wooyoung sneered, running the tip of his finger over the wet spot. “I heard they get like this when a woman’s turned on. Does that mean YN-ssi is turned on, sir?”

“She is,” Yunho smiled, standing behind you and watching Yeosang and Wooyoung continue teasing your nipples. “You can put your toys on her pussy too,” he told them, “So, it’ll get even wetter.” 

Wooyoung stood aside so the rest of the members could see his toy dance down your body to your sex. You instinctively grabbed onto Yunho’s arms, and your thighs tensed as the newest sensation. Wooyoung languidly dragged the bullet up and down your pussy; he sometimes pressed it right between the open lips to where your clit was, but he mainly stuck to his tracing. The vibrations hit right on the bundle between them, and sent waves through your walls. You did your best to stay still as Yunho instructed, but it became more difficult as it went on. You’re glad the school building remained empty, because you’re certain you could be heard outside the classroom. Your boyfriends still sat at their desks, doing nothing to hide the fact that they’re masturbating, and this alone pushed you closer to the edge. Soon, Yeosang joined Wooyoung in the torture, and you cried out. 

“Mr. Jeong, Mr. Jeong,” you whimpered, “That throbbing is…is…back.”

“Because you’re about to orgasm,” he said in your ear. “That’s the best part of the whole thing.” He kissed just beneath your ear, and continued, “I like to watch sweet, pretty girls like you cum all over themselves from my toys. But, it’s too early in the lesson for orgasms.” 

Wooyoung and Yeosang must’ve heard him, and immediately turned off their bullets. Your whimper of disappointment amused them, but Yunho soothed you with a soft kiss to your temple. 

“Shouldn’t we take these off, sir?” Wooyoung asked, playing with your pantyline. "I think YN-ssi might be uncomfortable." 

“Yes, we should,” he said. “Go ahead.”

The two members each took a side and peeled off your underwear. Your sex exposed to the room, you heard the members whine, groan and moan at the sight of you. Wooyoung licked his lips as he eyed your wet cunt, and you knew he wanted to put his mouth on it. 

“Is that what they look like wet?” asked Mingi, who’d leaned to the side to catch a glimpse of you. 

"It is," Yunho answered, a bit breathless from the sight. 

"Can they get wetter?" Wooyoung asked, gingerly running his thumb over your pussy. "It looks so pretty all wet like this."

"I think they can get wetter," said Yeosang, who joined in the rubbing so both thumbs spread your juices around. "Mr. Jeong, can we get her wet?"

"We will," he replied, bending down to softly suck and lick your nipple, "But we have more things to cover. Take your seats." 

He put his hand between your legs and gently stroked your folds as he sucked your nipples. You were certain he meant to keep you hanging in the limbo between frustration and ecstasy forever. His slender digits traced the very edges of the folds, dancing over them and your clit several times. 

"Mr. Jeong," you whimpered, "Shouldn't we keep on with the lesson?"

"In a minute, darling," he said, giving you a soft kiss before bending over to the other side. "I can't keep my hands or my mouth off you for too long. I love the sweet little sounds you make when I touch and kiss you."

"But, if we go further in the lesson," you said, "Maybe you can do more than kissing and touching."

He growled against your neck when you said this, kissing your shoulder as he replied, "Good thinking." He nuzzled your nose with his, "Such a smart girl. You're going to do so well." He kissed you one more time, then returned to the others, "Since we’ve learned about bullet toys, let’s learn about this.” 

He picked up the smaller dildo from the table and put your left leg over his lap. He explained what a dildo was and its primary functions, but he didn’t linger on pointless descriptions long. He slid the toy along your clit, giving soft taps that made you whimper, before sliding the head inside you. It didn’t stretch enough to hurt, but you still felt it pushing and pulling your walls. 

“You always start slowly,” Yunho explained, “And never go too deep. This toy isn’t very long, so it won’t hurt our YN-ssi too much, but particularly long ones should only go halfway.”

“Sucks for you, Seonghwa-hyung,” Hongjoong snorted, batting Seonghwa’s arm. 

“Shut up,” Seonghwa blushed, hitting him back. “It’s not that big.”

“No, no, hyung,” Jongho disagreed, “It is. It really is.”

“I’m still traumatized from when I first saw it,” said San. 

“It’s not that big!�� repeated Seonghwa, though the tinge on his cheeks gave it away. 

“Seonghwa-ssi,” called “Mr. Jeong”, “Why don’t you help me in the demonstration next?”

“Yes, sir.”

Seonghwa tucked himself back into his pants, and you wished he hadn’t. He truly isn’t monstrously or concerningly large. He simply had an inch or two over the other members, but his thickness is what you enjoyed the most. You could enjoy being fucked by him for ages, and never be disappointed. Seonghwa brought your right leg over his lap and he hovered over your pussy. Yunho offered him the pink dildo, and he took over, keeping the same, careful pace. The only difference was while Yunho mainly penetrated you, Seonghwa bent down to swat his tongue over your clitoris. Wrapping one arm underneath you, he started slowly whirling it around while sliding the toy in and out. 

“Hey, is he allowed to do that?” asked Wooyoung, pointing at Seonghwa. 

“No, I don’t think so?” Yunho replied, looking around at the hidden cameras as if a staff member would somehow answer. 

“I can't help it,” Seonghwa said, lifting his head and sliding the toy deep inside you. “I love eating her out. She tastes so damn good,” he mewled as he started hungrily licking and sucking your clit. This put you into a new wave of pleasure that had you pushing into the toy for more. 

“Because I held back,” Wooyoung exclaimed. His outburst caused the other members to start laughing again. “I love eating her pussy more than any of you, and I stopped myself because of the skit. That’s not fair-”

“-Wooyoung-ah-”

“-It’s not fair, Professor!” 

The members kept laughing, and you chuckled too from Wooyoung’s outrage. Yet, Seonghwa's tongue distracted you right away. 

"Oppa," you called out to him, hand slipping into his dark hair, "Mr. Jeong didn't say anything about kissing me there."

"Well, I want to," he said, sliding the toy fully inside and flicking your clit at the same time. "You like it, don't you?" He asked, "Isn't Oppa making you feel good?"

"Ye-yes…" you breathed, grinding into his face, "Yes, yes, Hwa-oppa…don't stop, please. It feels so good. Your mouth feels so-"

At this, Seonghwa quickly swirled his tongue around your clit while pushing and pulling on the toy faster. Yunho and the others watched in amazement as Seonghwa pleasured you. You felt yourself getting dizzy from the pleasure churning inside you. You weren't sure how much longer you could last with the sensation pouring over you. Your sex became more and more sensitive to his tongue and the dildo that you knew you'd crack eventually.

"I want to use that one, sir," Seonghwa stopped completely and nodded to the longer dildo near Yunho. "I think YN-ssi should be stretched out more before we go further, right?"

"That's right," Yunho smirked at him. He took hold of the pink dildo inside you, "Let's pull this one out and let YN-ssi clean it with her mouth, hm?"

The room watched as you sat up as much as possible and let Yunho slide the toy into your mouth. The hard silicone thinly tasted of your own fluids, a thing you didn't mind at all. You kept eye contact with Yunho while he slid the toy in and out of your mouth; you stuck out your tongue to run it over the sides whenever beckoned to do so, entrancing both Yunho and Seonghwa. When you sucked the top and let it out with a small pop, he spoke.

"Look at the others while you do that," he said, still watching you. 

You shifted your eyes over to the others, and saw their eyes still trained on you. You batted your lashes innocently and asked, "Am I doing this right?" 

"Yes…"

"Oh yes…"

"So right…"

"Keep going. You're doing so well."

"Get this one wet with your mouth too," Seonghwa lifted the blue dildo as Yunho removed the pink one. "We need to get it slippery before we put it in your pussy again. That way, it doesn't hurt so much."

"Okay, Oppa."

You started licking the blue dildo, which really was considerably thicker and longer. Yunho rarely used this toy on you since he worried it might hurt, but you assured him it never did. You shifted your eyes back to the members, licking the underside of the toy before putting the tip in your mouth. To add to the effect, you started playing with your nipples yourself, groping your breasts and teasing yourself while sucking the toy. Yunho held out the pink dildo to your mouth, and you switched over to that one next. 

"Try to take as much as you can," said Hongjoong, breathing heavily as he stroked himself in his pants. "I want to see how far you can take it."

"I bet she can take it deep in her throat, if she tried," said San, also rubbing himself in his pants. 

"Try it, YN-ssi," Jongho insisted, his cock fully out and throbbing in his hand. "It's okay if you can't, but we want to see you try."

You stayed seated as Yunho slid the toy over your tongue to the back of your throat. Sucking firmly, you bobbed your head forward and backward on the dildo while looking at the rest of the class. Having their eyes on you brought more warmth to your center. Their eyes followed every motion you made as if afraid that they'll miss something. You let the tip rest in the back of your throat a moment, even if it ached slightly, then pulled back for air. Spit dripped from your mouth, though Seonghwa wiped this with his thumb to taste. He gave you a deep kiss before putting his own toy in your mouth. He went a bit faster than Yunho, prodding your throat at a regular pace and even sinking it far enough to gag you. His soft moans of amazement and cooing only stirred the pot inside you more. You wanted to taste them both. 

"Why don't you lay back down for me?" Yunho asked, already slowly laying you on the desk, "And we can keep going." 

"Can I play with yours, Mr. Jeong?" You asked, groping the obvious bulge in his trousers. 

"Yes, you can," he said. "You've been doing so well, you deserve a treat."

Your head nearly at the edge of the table, you tilted your head upwards as he unbuckled himself and withdrew his cock. You opened your mouth to taste salty droplets on your tongue, savoring the bittersweetness when he started gradually sliding in and out. Yunho’s deep groans matched the faint ones going about the room; his dark eyes watched his cock push into your throat each time, his balls centimeters from your face as he did it. The odd angle took getting used to, but once Yunho picked up the rhythm, the needy moans came out in slews. You felt his tip poking into your throat this time, and the air restriction excited you. You gasped for air each time he withdrew to slap the head in your cheeks and chin. Your hips grinded into the air for some sort of friction, desperate for more stimulation before Seonghwa pressed the blue dildo to the entrance. Unable to stop themselves anymore, the other members came to the desk and watched close up. You felt them surround the desk, which you're sure doesn't help with the camera angles. 

A warm tongue on your clit had you moaning around Yunho’s length. You knew who it was by the satisfied muffled moans. Wooyoung kept a delicate pace in time with Seonghwa’s toy; you knew you'd cum soon if they kept going. 

"Sir," Mingi came up to him, watching him go deep in your mouth, "Can I try it too?"

"Sure," said Yunho, "But first, boys, let's put these on."

He grabbed the bag of black silicone cock rings, and handed them out. When he gave one to Hongjoong, he lifted his hand to decline. He never needed a cock ring, since he held himself back well enough. But, Yumho insisted. 

"This is going to be a long lesson, Hongjoong," he put it in his hand, "Put it on."

"I don't need it."

"Put it on before I give you detention." Yunho laughed, but slightly backed away at Hongjoong’s raised eyebrows. 

"Put it on, Hongjoong-oppa," you frowned, reaching for both Yunho’s and Mingi’s cocks. "I want you to last for a really long time."

"Alright," he said gently, bending to kiss your lips, "Anything for my cute dongsaeng." 

You giggled, knowing how much he liked that, and then guided Mingi back into your mouth once he put on the ring. Seonghwa’s toy went faster and slightly deeper, and you shuddered at the response the others gave. It left you feeling frozen in place as it entered you over and over again. The orgasmic ball building in your stomach rolled to that spot between your thighs each time the toy touched your g-spot. You didn't care if you came now. You needed to. The pressure inside you became too much to handle; with Mingi filling your mouth and nearly your throat, and both Jongho and Hongjoong pinching your nipples while Wooyoung and San took turns flicking your clit, you came in a burst of fire. It tensed your muscles and had you tearing up and muffled by Mingi. 

"Oooh, that's it," Yunho groaned, sliding in to take Mingi’s place, "That's a real orgasm there."

They eased up on their teasing once they felt you coming down from your high. You knew there was more. So much more. 

"Roll onto your stomach, sweetheart," Yunho instructed, helping you roll over and get as comfortable as possible on the wooden desk. 

Your lower half hanging off the edge, the position left you exposed to the room. Seonghwa lifting your skirt over your ass turned your cheeks hot, and you twitched slightly at a pair of hands grasping your buttocks. The usual arousal you'd feel didn't hit you right away, considering you still rode the tails of your orgasm, but you knew it'd come back soon. San, you're sure it's him, gave your ass a light spank and a squeeze that made you squeak. The other members soothed your quaking muscles with gentle caresses and quiet praises, but you knew they had plenty planned for you still. 

"If you ever want us to stop," Hongjoong crouched in front of you, wiping your cheeks and chin, "Or want a break, you let us know, okay?"

You only nodded, your throat pinching from before. They always remind you of your safeword, and that you can take breaks. He kissed your lips softly, and smiled at you. 

"You're so pretty," he said, pecking your forehead. "I wish I could keep you like this forever."

"You know you can have me this way whenever you want," you told him, "If I get to have you the way I want."

He grinned, "And how would you like me?"

You reached down for the gray fleshlight on the corner of the desk, and said, "Desperate for me."

"Fuck…"

He stood up right away, and held his dick out to you. Wetting it with your mouth for a minute or so, you then slowly slid the toy onto his length. His shirt lifted a few inches from his waist, you saw his stomach muscles begin contracting each time you passed over the head of his cock. Knowing how much he likes it, you bent forward further to lick the sack hanging underneath. 

"She looks so hot when she does that," huffed Mingi, who looked on while stroking himself. "I love watching her when she licks my balls like that."

"Me too," breathed Hongjoong, who did his best to not thrust forward towards you. He whined when you tenderly sucked one of them, shifting in place and whining more. "It feels so fucking good."

"It's even better when one of us is eating her out too."

You quivered in a whimper when something wet touched your clit again. Hearing the soft, high moans, you knew it to be Wooyoung once again. The tip of his tongue gingerly rolled the tender bud and slipped to your fluttering hole, then going back down to your clit again. 

"You really can't help yourself, can you?" Laughed Yunho. 

"I told you I liked eating her out,” said Wooyoung, darting his tongue back inside you. “I could do this all day.” 

You made sure Hongjoong felt the vibrations of your moans on the thin skin, a certain weak point of his. Gradually sliding the toy up and down, you realized his precum helped move it along easily, occasionally making a squelch sound each time. You removed the toy to taste his precum yourself, and made him wetter in the process. You loved the way his moans turned into desperate whimpers, and how he couldn't help holding onto some part of you whether it be your hair, shoulder, neck or somewhere close. You loved being the one who made him this way; the strong captain of the team who has to hold everything together all the time. With your mouth and fleshlight working him so easily, you loved hearing him unravel before you. You squealed along with the obscene slurping Wooyoung made when he sucked the juices from you. 

"I love eating her out after she's cummed," groaned Wooyoung, "When she's all messy and slippery and needs me to clean her up."

"And this ass is just as good too," added San, pulling your cheeks apart to see both holes clearly. "Mr. Jeong, is this a toy we can use back here?"

"Oh, yes you can," Yunho nodded, smiling. "It's an anal plug, and it's exactly for that, but I think YN-ssi will like the beads better. They start off small and get bigger in size. Begin with something small, San-ah. We don’t want to hurt YN-ssi.” 

“Not right away,” San added, giving your ass a smack. 

In a minute or so, a cold substance slipped between your ass cheeks which was then spread with something round. You melted in place from all the stimulation, knowing exactly what your boyfriends had in mind now. Your mind suddenly became fixated on the toy circling the rim of your hole and delicately pushing into it every so often. It tickled something inside you that brought back your arousal; it mingled with Wooyoung’s tongue lapping at your pussy, and made you moan around Hongjoong’s tip whenever it stuck out the other side of the sleeve. 

San started with the first bead, which hardly felt like anything, and then slowly pushed further into your ass. You used both hands to work Hongjoong as you let out soft, whimpering moans. The real hit of pleasure came when he reached the last ball, the largest at about an inch, and fully set itself inside you. You let go of Hongjoong and braced yourself on the desk, moving your hips for any kind of friction elsewhere, which amused the members. 

“That feels good, doesn’t it?” San asked slyly. 

“Ye-yes,” you nodded. 

“I know something that’s going to make you feel even better,” said Yunho. "You all return to your seats and Seonghwa can go first."

"Gladly, Professor."

Seonghwa pulled you over to the desk behind you, grabbing a seat and bringing you into his lap. You felt his stiff cock press against the toy in your ass, and his balls graze your sex. The mere bit of friction had you whining pathetically. Rolling your hips against it, Seonghwa gave a low groan that made you throb. 

“Seonghwa…” you whimpered, looking over your shoulder at him, “Seonghwa, I want your cock.”

“Say it the right way, YN-ssi.”

“Seonghwa-oppa,” you whined, putting both his hands on your breasts, “May I please have your cock? Please? I want to see if it fits.” 

"Then let’s see if it fits," he said in your ear, and you didn't hesitate. 

He swiftly entered you with half his length, which still made you gasp loudly. The members around you sighed seeing you being filled by Seonghwa's cock. He kept your skirt over your waist so anyone nearby could see your most intimate area. It didn't help that he occasionally tugged and pushed on your beads, causing another route of pleasure. Yeosang and Hongjoong on your left were the ones with the most perfect view. You locked eyes with Yeosang, and arched your back to show him his favorite part of you. Your tits. 

Seonghwa hissed in a low tone when your sex clamped down around him, and gradually started milking him as you bounced. Your tits doing the same, Yeosang exhaled deeply when he saw them out in the open. It was Seonghwa's hands that grasped them, and started rolling your nipples between his fingers. You need to keep a tight hold on your orgasm. You started grinding yourself on his lap, feeling him deep inside you. Yeosang kept his hand in his pants, stroking his whole length gradually. However, it was not Seonghwa who put his hand on you next. 

Jongho took your empty seat to lightly brush a bullet toy over your clit again. The light tickling sensation had you nearly crying from the pleasure. 

"What a naughty girl you are,” Jongho cooed, putting the toy right to your entrance each time Seonghwa stretched you. “I never thought a sweet girl would be such a slut.” 

“A very big slut,” Seonghwa groaned. He left your breasts alone, and grabbed your arms. Pulling them back, he kept you restrained as he bounced you on his cock. The new angle coupled with the two toys brought you closer to the edge. “The class slut,” he said. “Is that what you are, YN-ssi? Are you our slut now?”

“Yes,” you cried out, “Yes, yes, yes.”

“Then say it,” he growled. “Say it, slut.”

“I’m the…the…” 

“Go on, say it,” encouraged Jongho. “Say it.”

“I’m…” you breathed, “I’m the class…the class slut!” 

They all laughed at this, and you nearly came from it. You leaned forward on the desk and moved quicker. It made your thighs and legs burn slightly, and your elbows pressed into the hard desk, but the pleasure deeply outweighed the pain. Seonghwa wasn’t long enough to do any sort of damage, but you knew you’d be feeling him well after this. You gritted your teeth the moment his tip started hitting your g-spot, the bundle of pressure causing your eyes to roll back. But, then you had to stop yourself. You stayed frozen in place, putting your head down and keeping still. This gave Jongho and Seonghwa an opportunity that they took right away.

You squealed into the crook of your arm when both men began working you rapidly, your clit and g-spot flaring in unison. You’d felt it tickling inside you, inching closer and closer. Your knuckles stretched over the bones thinly into fists, and you couldn’t hold back anymore. The vibrations. Seonghwa’s thickness and length. The members sitting around, jerking their cocks and panting as they watched you. You came hard around Seonghwa, your walls clamping down on him. Seonghwa’s groans turned into grunting as he charged up inside you. He’s close. You could tell by his speed and sounds. His thighs tensed underneath you, and his thrusts became sloppier and sporadic. This alone kept you shuddering and shaking on top of him, your orgasm hitting you hard in the chest and abdomen as Seonghwa pumped it out of you. When you finished, Seonghwa’s own orgasm approached. 

“Are you…you going to cum, Oppa?” you asked, not stopping your pace at all. 

“Ye-y-yes-s!” he gritted through his teeth. 

He pulled out right as he came, yanking off his condom and spraying warm streams on your ass and lower back. You both took deep, slow breaths as your bodies descended and relaxed from the tension. But, you knew you were far from done. Your legs still like jelly, you locked eyes with Yeosang as you removed your shirt completely, tossing it onto Jongho and leaving the table. The members watched you walk around the desk to Yeosang, who wouldn’t meet your eyes as you took off your bra next. 

“Yeosangie-oppa,” you knelt down beside him, hands touching his knees so he faced you, “Are you understanding anything about the lesson? I’m feeling a bit lost,” you said, pouting at him as you ran your fingertips up and down his thighs. The dark haired man stared down at your breasts the entire time, occasionally glancing up to your face. You knew keeping to the roleplay character would excite him the most. “Mr. Jeong said we can make each other feel good without the toys too, and the others know how to do it, but I don’t know if I’m doing it right.” 

“Um, uh, yes…” he muttered, no longer touching himself but instead watching you. “You’re doing really well. So well…” 

“I am?” 

“But, I think there’s something that you,” he breathed deeply, “That you could do for me.”

“Like what?” 

“You can use your tits on me too. Not just your mouth or your other parts.” 

You tugged down the front of his pants and pressed your chest to his bare cock. “You mean like this?” you asked, putting his tip over your nipple. 

“Yeah, like that.” 

Yeosang coughed to cover up the moan he suppressed. You loosened his tie, and unbuttoned his shirt as you brought him in for a kiss. Deep, your tongues and mouths locked together, Yeosang immediately grabbed your breasts to pinch your hard nipples. It made you moan into his mouth, which he returned with his own. His hands went down your back, where he grasped your bottom tenderly. Each time he kneaded your cheeks, the toy inside you shifted. Yeosang must’ve sensed this, and started gently pushing and pulling on the rod of beads. He’d let it slide out one or two beads before sinking them back inside to where the tip touched the deepest part. 

“I want you to use something on me,” he murmured in the kiss. “It’s not fair that you get to have all the toys.”

You giggled, “Like what?”

“Like this one.”

He took out a cock ring from his pocket, clearly one he swiped off the table. A singular black band, you saw the textured ring within the larger one; both remained attached to a bar with a slim bullet vibe inside. You smiled up at him knowingly. 

“It’s always the quiet ones,” you sneered at him, kissing him softly before taking the ring from him. “But, what if I put it on wrong?” 

“Don’t worry, YN-ssi,” Yunho told you, pushing the head of his cock to your wet pussy, “I’ll observe you to make sure you’re doing it right.” 

He put both his hands over yours and helped you put the cock ring on Yeosang. One ring wrapped around his balls underneath, the larger one settled around the base of his cock, with a soft click the vibe came to life. Yeosang nearly jumped out of his seat in a surprised yelp. Clearly the toy proved more effective than he expected. Some of the members cackled and imitated him, but neither of you noticed them. 

“Don’t put it too high,” Yunho told you, hands leaving yours to cup your chest. “I’m sure Yeosang-ssi wants to enjoy other parts of you first.” 

“Like what?”

“Like these,” Yeosang answered, squeezing your breasts again. “I could cum just playing with them.”

“Only playing with them?” Yunho teased, kissing your neck as he smirked. “I’ve seen something different.” 

“What do you mean, sir?” you asked him. 

“Yeosang will show you. I’ll be right here to watch…”

You gasped at the sudden intrusion of Yunho’s length into your pussy. He continued the careful motion of using the anal toy in time with his own thrusts. Someone, you’re not sure who, dripped more lubricant between you and Yunho so the slipperiness made it smoother. But, it was Yeosang and his vibrating toy you focused on. 

Yeosang’s cock sticking straight up, you grasped it with both hands and stroked languidly. He gripped onto the edge of the desk and the back of his chair as he watched, mesmerized, by the sight of you. You knew the combination between your hands and the toy would be enough to make him burst all over you, but you kept it steady. You wasted no time in licking him from top to bottom after stroking him to full hardness, and making sure to swirl your tongue around the tip every time. When he kept back a moan in his throat, you latched your lips around the sensitive underside. Flicking your tongue over the wrinkled area, Yeosang gasped and cried. The vibe inside the ring tickled your hands and tongue every time you moved over it; you felt it doing the same to Yeosang’s balls, which you couldn’t help licking and sucking on to hear him moan louder. 

“You’re doing so well, YN-ssi,” Yunho groaned, fucking both your holes so carefully it drove you mad. “Keep working Yeosang just like that.” 

“It’s leaking a lot, Mr. Jeong,” you replied, licking a trickle of precum from Yeosang’s tip, “It tastes really good.”

“Because you’re making me feel good,” Yeosang replied, stomach and chest heaving as you kept going. “It does that when…when…”

“I want more,” you whined, looking up at him as your mouth engulfed his cock all the way to your throat. “How do I get more?”

“Let me fuck your tits,” Yeosang huffed, surprising the members looking on you both. “Please.” 

The thing Yeosang liked the most. His dick, flushed red and throbbing in your hands, fit perfectly between your breasts, the tip just barely sticking out of your cleavage. Yeosang bit his lower lip when you spat over the head, and used your tits to wet him somewhat. Then you slowly started lifting and lowering yourself on it, keeping them around his shaft as much as you could. Yunho, still behind you, started picking up his pace so you felt his tip hit your g-spot each time. The sobs he created tickled Yeosang’s tip. Yeosang let out a low groan as he restrained himself from pushing up into you. You upped the ante by putting his hands on your breasts once more and holding them there as his cock slipped between the supple mounds. His hands squeezing and kneading them added to the sensations tensing up inside you, his thumbs grazing over your nipples. As much as you enjoyed it, Yeosang enjoyed it more. His pleasure heightened when you started sucking the head every time he pushed it close to your mouth. The vibrating ring below will keep him from really cumming until you remove it, and you use this to your advantage. The tingling feeling it brought on had Yeosang breathing heavily and getting closer and closer to orgasm. 

You suckled the head hard, guiding his hands into kneading your tits, “Am I doing well?” 

“Yes,” Yeosang breathed, “God, yes…”

“Am I really, Professor?” you turned to Yunho, purposefully pushing your hips onto his so he groaned. 

“You’re doing very…very well,” he sighed. He put his lips to your ear, kissing beneath it as he said, “I would’ve thought you’ve done this before. You’re such a natural. I think you might make Yeosang cum just like you did for Seonghwa.” 

"Fuck, I am gonna cum,” Yeosang murmured, biting his lower lip and gripping the desks on either side of him. “I’m gonna cum, fuck, yes. I’m going to…fuck, yes…fuck…” 

A few more strokes later and thin streams squirted from his tip. You caught a few in your mouth, but most of them leaked onto your chest. The thicker lines streamed down your skin, decorating your breasts in more and more cum. The smell and taste never bothered you, and you eagerly licked up whatever remained for Yeosang to see. The vibe had him shuddering and wiggling around from the sensitivity, but you didn’t let that stop you. You rubbed his cock over your nipples so his cum smeared over them, then suckled it tenderly. 

“Like I said,” Yunho said, pumping deeply into you now, “A natural.” 

“Bring her up here.”

You opened your eyes to see Hongjoong standing on the other side of the desk in front of you. Dread filled your chest realizing how quickly this game was going to end. Yeosang, having removed the ring, helped Yunho bring you onto the table. You whimpered when you spotted the handcuffs and ball gag in his hand. Flat on your back, Hongjoong buckled the handcuffs around your wrists so they remained together, and a pang of excitement hit you. Spreading your legs, Hongjoong let his length rest on your sex while he smoothed his hands up and down your sides, bringing you in for a deep kiss. He didn’t mind the strings of cum still on your chin; he licked them up to slide them into your mouth which created more mess. 

“Just relax, baby,” Hongjoong whispered to you, hands gently rubbing your waist. “You know if it’s too much, you use your signals and we stop.”

“The show-”

“-I don’t care about the show,” he cut you off. “I care about you. We’ll finish whenever you want, okay? We won’t be mad at you; you know that. You do know that, right?”

“Yes,” you nodded. 

He fed you a bit of cum left on your chest, moaning when you sucked it off his thumb. “I’m gonna fuck you now,” he murmured, pecking your lips one more time, “And you’re going to lay there like a good girl and take it. Understand?”

“Yes, Oppa.”

He scoffed as he ran his tip up and around your sex. “No,” he shook his head, “Not ‘Oppa’. I’m the captain,” he groaned, “And that’s what you call me.” He pushed the head against your pulsing entrance, “Got it?”

“Yes, Captain,” you whimpered, keeping your hands above your head as he wanted. Gyrating your hips against him, you said, “Use me however you like.”

“Oh, I will.”

Your body already accustomed to penetration, he had no trouble sliding into you. Holding onto the backs of your knees, Hongjoong started at a steady speed. The anal toy inside you occasionally knocked on the edge of the table, the slight vibration bringing on a trickle of arousal. Your eyes rolled back at the pangs of pleasure throbbing inside you; you became completely blind to everything except Hongjoong's cock. He slid one hand up your body, smearing Yeosang’s cum over your chest before reaching for your throat. A gentle squeeze on either side of your neck weakened your string of moans each time his hips met yours. 

“You’re loving this, aren’t you?” he rasped in your ear, biting your earlobe gently as he did. “You love being fucked by all of us one after the other, huh?”

“Yes! Yes, I do!”

“And why is that, hm? Why do you like having so many dicks at one time?”

You knew what he wanted you to say, and you said it. “Because I’m a whore, Captain,” you whimpered, eyes staying open no matter how much pleasure he pumped into your body, “I’m a filthy whore who can’t get enough dick.”

He laughed through gritted teeth, and started pounding you hard. “That’s right,” he chuckled when your moans grew louder, “That’s exactly what you are….a fucking filthy whore…” he grabbed your hips and stood up, his balls hitting your ass each time he went inwards, “And filthy whores need to be reminded of their…their place…” he swatted his hand over one of your breasts, the little sting adding to your pleasure, “You know where your place is, don’t you?”

“I do, sir. I do.”

“And where is it? Say it nice and loud for us to hear you,” his head tilted back as your sex gripped him tightly, “Where is it?”

“On the end of a dick, sir,” you said. 

“Louder!” he smacked your breasts again, making you squeak. 

“On the end of a dick, sir,” you repeated. 

“Eh, I don’t think I heard you,” sneered Jongho, standing near the desk. “Can you repeat that?”

“On the end of a dick, sir.”

“Say it in a complete sentence, slut,” Yunho said into your ear, “You’re still in class.”

“My place is on the end of a dick, sir,” you cried out right as your orgasm approached. “Oh my god, it’s on your dicks.”

“That’s right,” smiled Hongjoong. “Good job. Very good job. You’re going to be the perfect class whore.” 

He must’ve felt your climax arriving, since he then immediately pulled out. When you whined in disappointment, he slapped his fingers on your sex. “Now, now, I know you’re a whore and everything, but try to have some patience.” He slapped your pussy again, much to the delight of the members around him. “It’s no fun if you’re cumming every single time your hole gets filled,” he spanked your pussy one more time, the climax receding and the pain emerging, “At least hold on a little bit, okay?” 

He held your legs up by the ankles and began spanking your pussy for the others to watch. The sharp stings and occasional brushes on your clit made your teary eyed and sopping wet. Each time his fingers tapped you, you felt your sex throb with the need for release. Soon, Hongjoong stopped spanking and started rubbing it in circles with his tip, occasionally dipping back inside to get you to the edge. It was when he pulled out that you grew closest to the blinding orgasm his teasing created, and it burned. 

“How does that feel, YN-ssi?” Yunho then asked you, watching you come down from the edge again. “Does it hurt?”

“A little bit.”

“Do you want your professor to make it better?” he asked you, “And your classmates to make it better?”

“Please.”  

“Hongjoong-”

“-But I like this,” he whined, smirking at your pain. “I like teaching sluts how to hold in their orgasms. It’s not fair if she’s cumming before me all the time.” He suddenly picked up the pace, “She’s only a slut. She should be making us cum, not the other way around.”  

You tried not to grin at his degrading words. Hongjoong loved you, you knew that, so this statement did not hurt you at all. It excites you more. 

“-We’re moving the lesson along, Hongjoong.” 

“Hmph, fine,” he frowned. He withdrew from you, but not before kissing you softly. “I’ll teach you properly another time,” he whispered. 

You nodded and he pulled away from you. He then joined the others in kissing and caressing you all over. Their touch made everything a million times harder. They knew your body, and all your pleasure points; the lingering twists of pain and pleasure tickled your orgasm once more. The small bits of pleasure they gave when their lips touched a sensitive spot already threatened to topple you. You saw the others come over to you, their eyes drinking in the sight of you, and you shuddered. 

You noticed they each held their bullet toys again, and you cried. The collective buzzing coming from the vibrating toys had you squirming in anticipation of the torture. Yunho, the lover of sex toys, pressed his toy to you first. He started at your lower stomach, the gentle tickling making you giggle and wriggled from the touch. Him and the others laughed, joining in the tickling that distracted you from your hot center. They rolled them to your hips, around your ankles to behind your knees and back. The sensation zapped at your ticklish spots that it had you wriggling on the table. 

“You’re so cute when you’re ticklish,” Yunho grinned, rolling his toy to your nipple where the gentle vibration stimulated you. You sobbed at the feeling, “But I like it when you’re moaning instead.” He circled your nipple before pressing it right on you, and smiling at your reaction. 

When Mingi put his vibe in the opposite spot, you bit down on your lower lip to restrain a cry. “Doesn’t that feel good?” he asked, his deep voice bringing shivers down your spine that it tickled you. “I bet it does, especially with how badly you want to cum,” He took a moment to lick your nipple before using the toy again, “You’re dripping all over the desk.” 

“It’s really, really, really wet now,” said Jongho, who ran his toy close to your sex alongside Yeosang’s toy. The low vibration caused you to move around on the table, but he didn’t break away. “I want to make it wetter.” 

“Me too.” 

Seonghwa placed his toy right against your entrance, the sudden sensation cascading through you. Wooyoung, on the other side, put the very tip of his on your clit, while Yeosang and Jongho pressed their toys to the sides. The coming together of the four toys had your knees shaking and your thighs trembling. The orgasm quickly built itself back up, and your hands clenched into fists wrapped around the edge of the table. You could hardly move away, because that only slightly changed their positions and caused further pleasure. San, finally, started playing with your anal plug once more; he gently tugged and pushed on the rod that prodded your insides, making you desperate. Mingi and Yunho swishing their toys over your nipples pushed you closer and closer. Damn it felt so good. You thought you might go insane from it. You’ll become addicted and want nothing else. Tears started rolling down your temples and into your hair. Hongjoong wiped one side and kissed the spot. 

“Go ahead and cum,” Hongjoong said. “Be a good girl and listen to your captain now,” he kissed the bit of neck he could reach. “You want to make your captain happy, don’t you? I’m the captain, so keeping me happy should always be your first priority.” 

You knew this wasn’t entirely true, and tried blocking him out. You wished you could give a proper response, but the whirl of pleasure inside you made that difficult. Every nerve in your body told you to let it go. They pleaded with you to end the torture in a burst of blinding bliss. Once they began rolling in unison, your back arched and you screamed into the air. The orgasm did not push you off the edge. It did not nudge or trip you into it. The damn thing flung you off mercilessly, and you felt your walls tighten and your clit become extremely sensitive as your orgasm wracked your body. So much so that the desk underneath you rocked backward and forward before someone took hold of it. The last time you came this way was the last orgy. 

Then you realized the silence in the room once you finished. 

“Fuck, that was so hot,” Wooyoung breathed out deeply. “I didn’t know she could do that.”

“I think it’s because it’s been a while,” guessed Seonghwa, who bent down to kiss your cheek. 

You then noticed a distinct wetness underneath you as you slid on the wooden desk. It hadn’t been powerful enough for you to notice, but you thought you might have squirted a bit. You didn’t know if you liked that, even though it put you on cloud nine afterwards. The sudden disappointment that you’d lost the game came over you, and you felt ashamed of yourself for not lasting long enough. But, the members sensed this change in your mood and rectified it immediately. 

Jongho took your hand and guided you over to a chair. He sat down, bringing you into his lap. He glided his throbbing member against your quivering sex, knowing it sent shockwaves throughout your body. Your boyfriend gave gentle, deep kisses while his hands fondled you. Taking deep breaths to relax yourself, Jongho said nothing as he pecked down your neck. Jongho was always sweetest after an orgasm, softly stroking and coaxing you into another one. He put your cuffed hands behind his head, so you remained locked against him while he teased you. 

“I want you to ride me,” he muttered between kisses. “Can you do that for me?” When you nodded weakly, he took you by the hips. “Are you sure?” 

“Yes,” you said, nodding again. 

“Silly slut,” he grinned, a gummy smile making your insides squirm. “So eager to please me that you’ll lie through your teeth. If you say you can, then go ahead.” 

Jongho did not budge an inch. You’d be doing the work, since you said you could even if your entire body turned to putty. Weakly, you stood up over Jongho’s tip, noticing he’d rolled on a condom for you, and sat on it slowly. Jongho let out a low groan as your encompassed him. Hands on the seat of his chair, he did not hold onto you nor guide you along his length. Grabbing onto the back of the chair, you meekly started riding him. Your burning thighs and legs didn’t do much in the way of lifting you up and down on him as you normally did. He barely pulled out of you. 

“I thought you could ride me,” Jongho taunted, smirking at your pathetic attempts to fuck him. “Why aren’t you riding me?”

“I am,” you squeaked. 

“Mr. Jeong,” he looked over at Yunho, “Is she really?”

“She’s certainly trying her best.”

“I-I am-m,” you protested, giving a few emphasized bounces before you gave up. 

“I don’t think you are,” Jongho said, finally taking hold of your bottom. You murmured when he started grabbing your ass, sliding a finger through the stick of anal beads to gently pull it out and then back in. “Because the ladies in the movies go up and down,” he started moving his hips into yours so you became a mess of moans again, “And you’re not really doing anything.”

“She’s just tired,” argued Mingi from a sideboard nearby. He softened slightly, but you saw him still stroking, “Cut her some slack.”

“But why are you mad?” laughed Seonghwa. 

“Because you guys are being mean,” he pouted. 

“She likes it when we’re mean,” Jongho smiled, lifting you to stand over him as he thrusted up into you. You fisted the back of his shirt, and moaned when his cock hit the right spot. “She likes being treated this way. Don’t you, YN-ssi?”

“Yes, yes,” was all you could breathe out, more stimulation driving you closer to the end. “I love it when you treat….treat me like this.”

“Good, you should,” he said, grabbing your hair tightly and holding you in place. Your legs cramped slightly from being in a squatted position over him, but the pleasure won out in every thrust upwards. “Because that’s how all slutty girls need…to be treated.” He panted as his pleasure heightened, making his head fall back. You made an attempt to push back into him, but he gripped your waist tightly. “Stay like that, stay like that,” he panted quickly, “Just stay right there like that. Let me…Let me…fuck…” 

A few more strokes had Jongho unleashing all the restraint he’d shown before. Lifting you up onto a table behind you, he charged into you feverishly as the members watched. He’d smack your chest every time you tried pushing into him, growling that you remained where you’re meant to be. Soon, Jongho shuddered and squeezed his eyes shut as he came inside you. You didn’t feel anything since he wore a condom, but you liked the thought of him emptying in you instead of in the condom. You wished all of them would. 

You knew how much they’d like to see it overflowing. 

But, you hadn’t climaxed. Not that your body felt up to it, that is. Jongho’s turn left you quivering in place, burning from the overstimulation and worn out from the constant movement. Last time happened at home where you had comfortable couches and pillows, and there’d been no cameras. You felt the need to be ‘on’ creeping over you. What if fans saw you tapping out early and made fun of you for not taking it? What if the members played this back later and realized they didn’t want a partner who couldn’t handle all eight of them? No. You’re being stupid. 

“Come here, angel.” 

It was Mingi. He brought you into his arms, holding you up on weakened knees, and carefully removed your anal beads. When he fully removed them, you felt a bit of relief come your way. He took you over to a corner of the room where someone set down the long body pillow from home. No doubt one of the members requested that someone leave it there. Mingi let you rest on the plush pillow, which acted as a mattress to cushion you on the hard floor. He removed your skirt at last, and unbuckled your wrist restraints, then immediately knelt between your thighs. Mingi, eyes full of tenderness, pecked your lips and nuzzled your nose with his. He shushed you when you started whimpering as his cock rested against your sore clit. 

“I’m not going to go in yet,” he whispered, kissing you as he rubbed his hands up and down your body. “I want you to take a little water break, okay? Relax this beautiful body of yours for a few minutes-”

“-But the-”

“-Forget the show,” he said. He removed his school shirt, leaving himself in a white t-shirt, and used it to clean whatever remained on your chest. “We care about you,” he said, kissing your neck as he wiped you down. “We can stay like this until you’re ready to keep going. You did so well already,” he kissed you again. “You always try hard to make us feel good. We appreciate that so much.” 

“Here, baby,” San appeared beside you with a water bottle, “You must be so thirsty.” 

You were. You didn’t realize it until you’d gulped down half the bottle. You’d fall asleep right then if the show didn’t have to continue. “I’m sorry,” you said quietly, hoping to God the cameras and microphones did not pick it up. 

“Don’t be,” San insisted, leaning beside you and pushing hair from your face. “We don’t expect you to be the same every time. We’re in a different place, and you’re moving around a lot more than at home.” He let you finish the bottle before putting it aside. He slowly kissed you as Mingi peppered more on your collar bones. “You look so beautiful, baby,” he said with a small smile, “So cute and sweet. I wish we could take this home so you can wear it there.”

“You can be the pretty girl we bring home to help with homework,” Mingi suggested, carefully grinding against you. “And then we get,” he smirked, “A bit distracted.” 

“Would you be mean to me?” you pouted at him. 

“Never,” he replied, pecking your lips. 

“Me either,” San added. “I only like being mean when you’ve been bad, and you’re hardly ever bad,” he awed, nuzzling your neck until you giggled. "You're always such a good girl. I never have to punish you."

“I never like edging you anyways,” Mingi admitted, carefully running his length up and down your slit. His voice became lower as his arousal built up, “I prefer making you cum over and over again. I like knowing I can do that to you.”

You gave weak, small moans as he started at a steady pace. Mingi kept it smooth, not pouding or thrusting too deeply like the other members might. The blond simply held your hips and moved gently. Still tired from your previous orgasms, you couldn’t bring yourself to move into him, and you guessed he did not expect you to do so. He leaned over you, kissing your neck and grabbing your tits like he normally would. 

“But watching you squirt even a little bit was so hot,” he said between kisses. “I never thought I’d like that. But I think it’s because it was you doing it. Everything you do turns me on so much,” he kissed you again, completely breaking his character now. “You get me hard doing the simplest things.”

“Like what?” you asked, your own desires starting to stir inside you. 

“Eating lollipops,” he answered, eyes closing as pleasure took over him. “Eating ice cream…letting it drip down your chin just a little bit or licking it while looking…looking at me…” he propped himself up on his elbows, and angled his hips to hit deeper. “Just…Just standing in the kitchen, cooking in your cute little pajamas, and making it…it obvious you’re not wearing a bra,” he chuckled at this memory. “Fuck, it turns me on. Why do you make me so fucking horny all the time? I’ve never been like this with anyone but you.” 

“Because you’re a pervert,” you giggled, watching him unravel in front of you. You reached underneath the shirt until he knelt up to let you pull it off. Mingi didn’t always show off his defined abdomen, but you wished he would. “But that’s okay,” you pinched one of his nipples gently, earning a soft whine from him, “I am too.” Having this bit of encouragement had Mingi rocking into you fully, but never moving too fast. “There’s a reason I go to the gym when you’re all there,” you grinded yourself against him and he groaned loudly, “Because I like watching you all work out.”

“Maybe we should start going to the gym more often,” San smirked, reaching down between your thighs where he lightly grazed your clit. Seeing you moan at his touch, he continued going around it in small circles. “That way you can look as much as you want,” he said, bringing your lips to his and kissing you, “And get fucked there too.”

“Sannie-ah,” you giggled.

“We’d make sure there was nobody around.” 

He traced his fingertips over the space between clitoris and entrance in a U-shape. Shivers made your knees jolt and lift up, and Mingi took the motion to slide deeper inside. You briefly imagined gym sex with either of them: San laying on a bench press while you rode him to climax or Mingi standing behind you while you cycled in place, his cock creating the same pleasure it did now. Mingi’s restrained murmurs told you he wanted to move faster and harder; he wanted to chase down the orgasm he’d been holding in this entire time. It occurred to you that your boyfriends must be aching to finish the shoot already, and cover you in their cum again. Yeosang, Jongho, and Seonghwa already finished, they sat on the sidelines as spectators. For some reason, their indifference to the action going on in front of them made you hornier. Yet, the others still stroked and squeezed themselves. Though, of course, Hongjoong had no problem with this. You rolled your hips lazily against Mingi, which urged him to move his hips faster. Hands gripping your sides, his eyes fell shut as he let his passion take over. 

“I’ve always wanted to do public stuff with you,” you told him, knowing the image would send him over soon. “I know you’d love pinning me up against a wall somewhere that people might see us.” You pinched one of his nipples again, rolling it between his fingers. “I wonder if Atinys know what a fucking perv you are. I think they’d be surprised by it, don’t you?”

“Yes,” he breathed, eyes still closed. “Yes, yes, yes.” 

“I think he’s about to cum,” said San, who moved down your body to lick your nipple. “He sounds so close, baby.”

“He is close.” 

You tightened your walls around him for a better grip, and Mingi’s moans grew louder. He always became more sensitive whenever his orgasm approached. He bent down to kiss you, still pounding inside you, right as he started cumming. His moans vibrated against your lips, filling your mouth along with his tongue. You wrapped yourself around him with as much strength as possible, hand in his blond hair, as you let him go at his own pace. You whined audibly when you felt him slip out of you, the familiar sound of a condom being removed, and warm cum spilling onto your hip. Mingi didn’t touch it as he came, watching his dick twitch and spasm in every groan before finally settling down. 

“You didn’t cum,” he frowned, realizing this once it passed. “I’m-”

“-It’s fine,” you said. You didn’t think you really could anyways, but you knew how it might look on camera. “I just wanted to make you feel good,” you sat up to kiss his stomach and chest, finally reaching his lips when he leaned down. “Did it feel good?”

“It did,” he sighed. “Thank you, noona.”

You giggled, “You're welcome.”

San came next, and leaned into your ear. “Can I go next, noona?” he asked, also breaking from that concept role. 

You sometimes forget how much younger some of them were, since you never forced honorifics on them. You still liked how it sounded when they did use it, mostly to get their way, which you almost always caved. You smiled, rubbing his nose with yours, “Of course, you can, Sannie-ah.”

“And me too. Come ride me.” 

Yunho appeared at your side, Mingi having left you to rest against a desk nearby. He took your place on the faux mattress, and you immediately straddled his hips. Yet, you kept your back arched and Yunho spread your ass cheeks for what San really wanted. 

“Can I?” he asked, hope in his eyes as he took position behind you. His covered tip already swirled that ultra-sensitive spot, tapping it while Yunho squeezed your ass. 

“Mm-hm,” you nodded, shaking your hips to show your consent. 

“It’s why I brought those beads,” Yunho said, his own cock sliding over your slick sex. “I know how much he likes fucking your ass,” he smirked when you whimpered at the touch, “And I didn’t want to make it too difficult for you.”

“So thoughtful of you,” you smiled, kissing him gently, “Mr. Jeong.”

San pressed small kisses up your spine to your shoulder, holding you close to him as he sheathed himself into your ass carefully. He certainly stretched you, but not painfully. Someone dropped more lubricant between the both of you as they’d done before, yet San managed to control himself. 

“M-M-Mr. Jeong,” you whined in Yunho’s ear, “It-It feels so good. Is it supposed to feel li-like that?”

“It is,” he replied, “But want to know what will make it extra good?”

“What?”

“Me.”

You gasped, nails digging into the body pillow under Yunho, as he pushed himself into your pussy. Being filled in both ends, your body froze at the sudden explosion of pleasure. Both men started with gradual thrusts, moaning when your holes clenched them both, before going faster. Your eyes rolled back to your head, and you could hardly focus on anything except the cocks deep inside you. Their balls slapped your pussy when they took turns sliding in and out of you, attacking your g-spot from each end. San held your arms behind your back, so your tits bounced right in front of Yunho, who grabbed one. 

“How’s that, YN-ssi?” Yunho asked smugly, knowing the exact answer to his question. 

You couldn’t answer. Your brain appeared incapable of doing so, and this made the men around you chuckle. The members you hadn’t fully pleasured yet, Hongjoong and Wooyoung, took to either side of you with their cocks in their hands. Wooyoung took one of your limp hands from San to wrap around himself, while Hongjoong guided your head to his leaking tip. 

“Look at her,” Hongjoong hissed when you began firmly sucking him, “The class slut taking all of our cocks so well. I think I’m going to enjoy this class.”

“I might take her home,” Wooyoung added, pushing his wet cock between your fingers. Wooyoung never needed the “entire package”, as he called it. He could be content with the top half just as much as your bottom half. Your hand, squeezing and pumping him, was enough to get him close to the edge. “I can’t imagine what she could do once I get her alone.”

“If anyone’s taking YN-ssi anywhere,” grunted Yunho, who pumped into you deeply, “It’s her teacher. I have so much tutoring material to g-go over with her.”

“I could use some tutoring too, sir,” said Hongjoong, who shoved himself deep into your throat so you gagged. He kept forcing himself in and out, not caring about the amount of drool coming out. “I want to know other ways I can use our slut to cum.”

“There are so many ways,” he replied. 

“She feels so good, sir,” San groaned, matching Yunho’s speed. “Her ass is amazing and tight. She’s gonna milk every drop at this rate.”

“And that’s exactly what she wants,” Hongjoong withdrew his cock and rubbed it over your lips and chin to slide more saliva into your mouth, “Isn’t that right, YN? You want every bit of cum you can get out of us, huh?”

He chuckled when you only nodded, far too gone and fucked out to respond properly. Your newest orgasm slowly approached, and you thought you might lose your mind from how good it felt. Wooyoung muffled your constant string of cries with his own length, your free hand working Hongjoong as easily. Your pussy began clenching tightly around Yunho, who slowed down when he sensee this. 

“No, no, no, YN-ssi,” Yunho said, staying inside and rolling his hips into yours, “You haven’t made your classmates cum yet. It’s not fair to cum before they do. A proper slut would pleasure us first, and herself second.” Not a thing any of them really believed in, but God, it turned you on. “You stay right there and let us use your pretty holes to cum.”

“Then, we’ll see about you cumming after,” smirked Hongjoong, who gripped your hand to make you squeeze his cock. 

The four men continued using you how they wished. Hongjoong and Wooyoung took turns abusing your throat, the pain burning there and choking you at repeated intervals, while San and Yunho stretched your sex and ass over and over again. Soon enough, their heated orgasms came. Hongjoong held back your head as he and Wooyoung shot their loads into your mouth, letting the streams hit parts of your face and chest as they jerked themselves over you. Feeling Yunho and San unload inside you almost distracts you from swallowing, causing some to leak out of your mouth, but once they finished, Yunho spoke. 

“Go ahead, YN-ssi,” he said, slamming into you while San rested his head on your shoulder, nestled inside you still. “Go ahead and cum now. That’s it…just like that…” 

You came harder than you did the last time, nearly screaming from the pleasure. Tears streamed down your face at the overwhelming sensation tightening your body, almost constricting your breathing and hurting your jaw from being open so long. Your nails scratched down Yunho’s chest, which made him wince but not in displeasure, and you felt everything in your body aching when your muscles tensed again. The men surrounding you praised and soothed you with kisses anywhere they could put them as you came down in heavy shaky breaths. You’d black out right then if the cameras didn’t remain on. You knew you’d have to clean up, get dressed again, and go home in a van before getting comfortable. But, you didn’t see how that’d be possible with the absolute wringer your boyfriend put you through. Your body fell forward onto Yunho, and everything felt hot. Very hot. Almost making you dizzy and suffocating you. You couldn't stop yourself from trembling. 

“Baby?” Yunho said, all bravado from before dropping like a hat. "Are you okay?" 

“Bu-Bu-Butter-Cup,” you managed to get out, struggling for breath. 

He and San swiftly withdrew and let you lay down. With a big amount of space, you take big gulps of air and let the cool air wash over you. You saw the concerned faces around you, and felt hands gently caressing you. 

“Just breathe, babe,” Hongjoong said. How did he soothe you so easily? How did he calm you when nobody else could? “You’re okay. It’s over now. Just breathe and let us take care of you, alright?” 

“I’m…I’m…”

“Don’t speak,” Yunho came up next to you. Another one whose gentle, big-puppy energy relaxed you into the pillow under you. “We’ll take care of everything else. You rest up now, okay?” 

You became a puddle of mush. You knew you wouldn’t be able to move for a few hours at least. How’d they get you home if you didn’t move? You didn’t care. Something cold and wet touched your face and began wiping the cum from you. The salty taste in your mouth left you desperately thirsty, but it became hard to convey that verbally. Thankfully, years of sex and intimacy gave the members experience in your aftercare. A straw came up to your lips, and you gulped like you’d gone through the desert. You laid back into someone’s arms. You’re not sure who. Seonghwa? Mingi? Someone broad, for sure. They and someone else helped you into a fluffy robe, which you recognized as yours from home. They tied it at your waist, and you felt instant comfort and warmth. You heard a bit of conversation over you before they agreed on something; you didn’t know what, though. A few minutes later, your body was lifted off the floor and you knew by the swiftness it was Yeosang. The Doberman in him triggered the need to show you how strong he is, even when you couldn’t really comprehend it. 

After a bit of movement throughout the school, you ended up outside. Hongjoong must’ve climbed into the van before you, since it was his lap you slid onto. Your head rested on his shoulder, he wrapped his arm around you and kissed the top of your head. No doubt he tried fighting to carry you, but he’s not the strongest of the group. Another figure took up your legs, and by the expert massaging you knew it was Wooyoung. Yet, this touch carried nothing sensual behind it. He only sought to comfort your aching muscles. The gentle movement of the car soon had you falling asleep in Hongjoong and Wooyoung’s laps. 

****

He honestly did not know how you did it. Hongjoong looked down at you, soundlessly sleeping in his arms, and wondered how you hadn’t tapped out in the very middle of it. The orgy at home differed seriously in that it happened at home, where you’d been more comfortable. The directors said it’d look good if you went to them, instead of them ganging up on you like before. Hongjoong disagreed. He’d been sure you’d end the whole thing with Mingi, but when you let San and Yunho double penetrate you, he thought you could handle one more orgasm. He’ll admit he liked fucking you dumb, but when you said your safe word, he couldn’t help the small panic that set in. You’d said it so faintly and he could tell you struggled to breathe with the cum sticking in your throat. He couldn’t help feeling slightly guilty about it. 

“She’s so cute afterwards,” Seonghwa said from behind him. The eldest member leaned over the back of the van seats, gazing down at you lovingly. “When she’s sleeping like that.”

He wasn’t wrong. You always seem so peaceful when you’re asleep. Hongjoong grinned softly, nuzzling your nose even if you didn’t feel it. “She really is,” Wooyoung agreed. “I honestly thought she’d say her safe word sooner. She looked so out of it when she was on top of Jongho.”

“I thought so too,” said Jongho from his seat in the back. “She looked so tired.”

“I hope people aren’t mean about it,” mused San. “They’re always so critical of her.”

“No, Atiny wouldn’t be like that.”

Hongjoong agreed with San. Because she’s their girlfriend, and therefore more intimate with them, some fans tend to be harsh towards you. He knew they’d judge you far more than any of them. The editing team would cut out most of the sex, and blur out whatever they did keep, but it still bothered him. No doubt someone will say something to hurt you, because people can be cruel, especially towards Companions. Though, he'd be there to comfort you as always. 

Idol Companion shows are usually more provocative than normal ones and basically softcore porn at times. He wasn’t sure how to feel when fans first started bringing it up; some members aren’t comfortable showing too much of their bodies, and he didn’t know if you’d want to do it either. Yet, the producers insisted the males kept most of their clothes on, and they severely edited each episode. Hearing their idols cum and seeing their naked torsos is the most anyone would see. They’d all promised they’d dial back the kinky things, since they did want to keep some intimacy between you and them. Yet, the raging arousals and hormones threw all that out. Hongjoong might have gone a little overboard with his dirty talk and how he fucked you, but it was nothing he hadn’t done before. He only worried about the physical toll on you, not what Atinys might think later. Now on the way home, he knew Yunho and Yeosang would take good care of you. Since they all moved into separate dorms, you didn’t live with him anymore, so he couldn’t oversee your aftercare himself. 

“Do you think they’ll let her keep the uniform?” asked Wooyoung, trying to hide his smile. “She looked so cute in it.”

“I don’t think so,” answered Seonghwa. “I asked the stylist and she didn’t really say anything.”

“Oh my god, you asked?!” Wooyoung laughed, eyes wide. 

“I was curious,” he shrugged, “Since they didn’t let us put her back in it.”

“It doesn’t matter anyways,” said Yunho. 

“Why?”

He opened the toy bag on his lap, and pulled out the uniform skirt with a mischievous smile. He worried the group’s cheers and laughter might wake you, but you’d become dead to the world. 

“I hope not every episode is going to be a gangbang,” Hongjoong said, pushing hair from your face and covering you up more, “I don’t think she can handle another one so soon afterwards.”

“They told me most of the episodes are going to just be suggestive,” Seonghwa said. “I asked about that, since I wouldn’t feel right making her go through it at every shoot.”

“YN mentioned there’s one episode with a photoshoot contest,” San told them. “Because I noticed she’d bought all this really sexy lingerie, and she told me it was for an episode.”

“What does the winner get? Do you know?” asked Wooyoung. 

“Oh, that I don’t know. She wouldn’t tell me anything else.”

“I’m just happy this isn’t the first episode,” said Yeosang. “I feel it’s way too much for a first.”

“It’s not the first?” asked Mingi, surprised. “I thought it was.”

“No, they’re shooting them out of order,” Yeosang shook his head. “Something about the locations not reserving one after the other.”

“Then at least we got this one out of the way.”

Yes, at least the hardest one is over. He kissed your forehead, and rested against the window. He felt so content there, holding you and falling into his own exhaustion. It always took so much energy to edge himself, since you brought him to the brink so easily. Maybe he’d go home with you, just to keep you in his arms like this. He’d originally wanted you to live with him, but Yunho and Yeosang lived closer to the dance studio where you volunteered. He guessed it was for the best. 

If you lived with him, Wooyoung and Jongho, you’d never know a moment of peace. 

***

A/N: damn, that was a lot lol this is another part of my idol companion series, which I hope you guys are enjoying as much as I enjoy writing them lol please reblog and like this <3

[supernovafics]

𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄

"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist

pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 3.2k words

warnings: explicit language, some mentions of alcohol, parent drama (both reader’s and steve’s parents suck)

summary: in which your parents and steve’s come over for dinner 

author's note: this has absolutely nothing to do with the harry styles song but the title of it is just very fitting so yeah<33 i’ve been rewatching a lot of gilmore girls this fall season so i feel like that's helped me get the hang of writing awkward/tense dinners with family lol so this needed to be done

general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Fall 1985

When your and Steve’s parents first suggested this “early Thanksgiving dinner,” you thought that it wouldn’t actually happen. 

The initial idea sounded pretty funny to you— your parents and Steve’s parents would have a full on dinner at your apartment a week before the actual holiday. Yeah, right.

It sounded like the kind of idea that parents that really cared about spending time with their children would have, and that wasn’t how you’d necessarily describe yours or Steve’s. 

A month ago, when they told you about the ski trip the four of them were going on during the entire week of Thanksgiving, you expected to just not see them probably until Christmas— and that felt like a bit of relief to you because spending time with your parents wasn’t your favorite hobby.  

But then you remembered how, only during the holidays, your parents always had a need to show, or maybe more so “prove” to themselves, that they actually cared about you. So, of course, they wouldn’t let this stupid holiday go, and instead they thought that it would be best if you all did something early and together. 

And sadly, none of the immediate excuses that you and Steve came up with worked because your moms had solutions for everything.

When you told yours that the kitchen in the apartment was too small to cook for this kind of elaborate dinner, she simply told you that they’d buy and bring all of the food and you and Steve wouldn’t have to cook at all. She also not-so-jokingly mentioned that she would’ve never trusted either of you two cooking anyway.

And when Steve told his mom that the current dining table you two had was way too small to fit all six of you, she promptly had one ordered and delivered to your door in just a week. It was an expensive dark wood set that could comfortably fit six people, and you and Steve spent hours struggling to build it the day it showed up at your front door. It took up an obscene amount of space, but it did actually look kind of nice.

Now it was weeks later and the dreaded night was finally here, but you still tried to come up with any way to avoid it from happening. 

“And we’re sure that we really can’t get out of doing this tonight?” You asked Steve as you folded the blanket that was lying half-hazardly on the couch. “I could call my mom and say that we’ve somehow fallen tragically ill in the last hour?”

“I’m ninety-five percent sure that they’re all already on their way.”

“Shit.”

“It’ll be fine,” Steve said, and then he considered his words. “Actually, it will probably suck, but overall, we will be fine.” 

You let out a sigh and placed the now folded blanket back on the couch and then started cleaning off the coffee table, stacking the random magazines in a neat pile and then adjusting Harold’s cage so that it was nicely in the center. Your and Steve’s shared pet hamster was currently nibbling on the food that you had put in his bowl only moments ago. 

An abrupt feeling of worry shot through you as you looked around the apartment. The place was clean— probably the cleanest it had ever been— since you and Steve had spent the day doing everything to avoid either of your parents saying anything bad about the place. However, in the grand scheme of things, you knew that it didn’t matter because they’d still hate the apartment. They would hate how you two decided to furnish and decorate it, and they would passive aggressively make fun of the place for however long this dinner would have to be.

“Let’s try not to think about how bad this night is gonna be and just be glad that we’re not gonna have to suffer alone, like usual,” Steve said, practically reading your mind and the look on your face, as he started setting plates out on the new table. 

He was completely right. This was the first time that a collective Thanksgiving was happening among all of you. Usually, it was just you alone with your parents in Chicago visiting family members that you never talked to, and Steve was doing the same exact thing except he was in Indianapolis. You’d always end up calling each other at the end of the night from the hotel or family house you were staying at, and you’d tell each other stories about whatever weird family members you encountered or how boring it all was. 

It did make things feel a bit better that, for once, you didn’t have to go through this alone and neither did Steve.

“You’re right,” You said with a nod and then smiled. “We’ll be going through this shitshow together.”

As if on cue, there was a knock at the door and since Steve was closer he went to answer it. You took one brief and final look around the apartment before heading toward the door too, so Steve didn’t have to be by himself in this greeting.

“Hi,” He said when he opened the door and saw all of your parents standing there. There was a bright smile on his face and he effortlessly turned on that “Steve Harrington charm” that people had adored in high school— you hadn’t even gone to the same high school as him, but you still heard so many of the stories.

A chorus of Hi’s and Hello’s were heard as your moms entered the apartment first since they were carrying all of the food and your dads followed in right behind them.

“I still hate that you moved into a place that doesn’t have a front doorman, or, at least, a buzzer system,” Were your dad’s first words to you; deciding against saying the simple “How are you?” that you had expected. “You two should get a better lock on your door.”

You laughed a bit. “We live in Hawkins, not New York, Dad. I don’t think anyone is really itching to rob us anytime soon.” 

“Anything can happen,” He responded, looking at you seriously. “I’ll bring you a new one when we get back from Colorado.”

You only nodded at his words instead of saying anything to rebut them; you knew that he overall meant well. “Okay.”

Your attention turned to your mom and she pulled you into a hug that felt way too forced before pulling away and giving you a quick onceover. “Oh… Is that what you’re wearing?”

You thought that your outfit was fine; a V-neck navy blue knit sweater that was a bit cropped and a simple pair of black jeans. But, your mom always managed to find something wrong with everything, so this reaction to your current outfit didn’t necessarily surprise you; it did still annoy you all the same, though.

“Oh, um, no I was just about to change,” You told her and forced a small smile.

She nodded at that. “Okay, that’s good, that’s good. You go change while Christine and I get the table set up.”

You started heading toward your room but looked back at Steve first. He was in a conversation with his parents that looked like they were doing much more of the talking than him. As if sensing your gaze on him, his eyes met yours and he gave you a hopeful look and that was enough to make you feel a little better.

It didn’t take long for you to change. You kept your sweater on but traded your jeans for the long black silk skirt that your mom had always liked on you. You hoped this slightly different outfit would be enough to satisfy her, and if not, you were willing to suffer through her inevitable look of disappointment. 

You lingered in your room, tidying up your desk for no particular reason and then deciding to remake your bed. It was clear that you were stalling, avoiding having to face your parents again, and as much as you wanted to continue doing that, you also didn’t want to leave Steve to fend for himself. You were supposed to be suffering together, after all. 

You immediately noticed the dining table when you walked out of your bedroom. The food was now nicely set out and there were even brown placemats sitting underneath the plates that Steve had already set out. It was all set up in a way that would’ve felt nice and wholesome if either of your families had ever remotely felt like the ones portrayed in most TV shows or movies. But, they weren’t anywhere close to being like that, so this all just felt weirdly forced.

Of course, you didn’t say that, though.

Instead, you sat down with everyone at the table and desperately hoped that the next few hours of your life would breeze by. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“From the brochure, the pictures of the cabin look really great. We hope it actually looks that way in person,” Steve’s mom, Christine, said. 

You took another bite of the mac and cheese on your plate as you continued to listen to your parents talk about their ski trip that was happening next week, which they had been doing for the last twenty minutes and you fully didn’t mind it. Since the conversation wasn’t centered on either you or Steve, things actually didn’t feel tense or nervewracking. If you could just make your parents talk about themselves during the entire dinner, you would probably end the night with a smile on your face. 

“Oh, and there are a lot of bedrooms too,” Your mom chimed in before taking another sip from the wine glass in her hand. “Maybe you two could take a trip up there soon and invite your friends to go too.” 

“Yeah, that would be nice,” You said with a small nod.

“Enough talking about the trip, though, that’s probably so boring for your kids to hear about,” Your dad said, and you internally sighed because you knew the exact direction the conversation was about to go in. You felt him look at you. “How’s school been going? The semester is almost over.”

“It’s been good,” You answered, keeping your response short and sweet. You decided not to mention that you really couldn’t care less about the majority of your classes because none of what you were doing in any of them felt like it really mattered. 

“Okay, and your grades and everything are fine, right?”

You only nodded in response to his question, hoping that your lack of actual words would signal to him that you wanted to bring an end to this topic of conversation. Of course, that was only wishful thinking.

“That’s good,” Your mom said. “You have to make sure your grades stay like how they were in high school, or even better, for when you transfer to the University of Chicago. We don’t want to have any reason for them not to accept you again.” 

You suddenly felt like you were right back in middle school and high school, where your conversations with your parents solely revolved around school; what your grades were, if you were doing your homework and completing assignments on time, and studying for tests. It always annoyed you that the only times they would bother to pay attention to you was when it came to that stuff. Other than that, you were always seemingly an afterthought, never a bigger priority than their jobs. 

In a way, this entire conversation should’ve been expected; it was always inevitable. Pretty much anytime you talked to your parents in recent months, the discussion always seemed to circle its way back to that school and you going there in two years instead of right now, like they had wanted you to.

“I’m still so surprised that you decided to not go to the University of Chicago now,” Christine said and you turned your attention to her. It was starting to feel a bit painful to you that the subject still hadn’t changed yet. “When Steve told me that you were going to go to the community college close by, I couldn’t believe it, honestly.”

You noticed your parents share a look upon hearing her words. The mix of disappointment and annoyance toward you that was shared between them in that moment felt palpable. 

“I didn’t think it was time to leave Indiana just yet. I’ll be going soon, though,” You said, keeping your voice light and plastering on a fake smile, even though all you wanted to do in that moment was leave the table and hideout in your bathroom for the rest of the night. 

You saw your dad smile a little and then you also noticed the look of relief wash over your mom’s face. For some stupid reason, you still felt the need to make them feel pleased with you. And somehow that made you feel even more upset with yourself than anything they had said to you so far tonight. 

The only thing that managed to make things feel remotely tolerable right then was Steve sitting across from you, giving you a look that said, “Everything will be okay.” For the time being, you chose to believe him and you simply took another bite of your food. 

You were about to say something about how good the turkey was so your moms would start talking about the restaurant they got all of the food from and why they chose it— you were sure that there was some story behind it all— and that would finally bring an end to the college conversation. But, before a word could leave your mouth, Steve’s dad began speaking. 

“Well, at least, you’re in college. We can’t say the same for Steve here.” He then looked at his son. “Do you really want to work at a video store for the rest of your life?”

 Christine let out a sigh. “Jeff.”

“What?” He shrugged as if his previous question wasn’t completely condescending. “I’m just asking a question.”

“I’m actually starting at the community college next semester,” Steve told his parents and you tried to hide your immediate confusion. “I found out I got in a few days ago.”

“Well, that’s great,” Christine said happily, and Jeff smiled approvingly as well. 

You had no idea Steve had gotten in or even applied, and you wondered if he was lying right then to just get his parents off his back, but you couldn’t tell. Something about the way he said it honestly felt pretty real. The only part that didn’t feel real was that you were finding out during this dumb dinner instead of at any other time. 

“So, I was wondering,” Your mom began and you braced yourself for the impact of whatever she was going to say. “Why did you two decide to get a hamster? I feel like it makes things smell a bit funny in here…”

A part of you was glad that the conversation finally shifted away from college. But you didn’t think that the passive aggressive comments toward the apartment would begin with Harold. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Well, this night was fucking brutal.”

You let out a sigh. “You took the words right out of my mouth.”

Steve was doing the dishes as you put what was left of the food into tupperwares and then put them in the fridge. Surprisingly, it was a lot of stuff leftover; your moms definitely went overboard with the amount they had ordered. You and Steve already made plans to invite Robin and Eddie over tomorrow to have some of these leftovers.

“I’m actually glad that the dessert tasted bad since it made them want to leave early.”

“It was honestly a bit bittersweet because I was kind of excited for that pie,” You said as you placed the final tupperware of food into the fridge and then went over to Steve. “Oh, and also,” You punched his arm and ignored his immediate “ouch.” “Why the hell didn’t you tell me that the stars have finally managed to align and we’ll finally be going to the same school for the first time ever?”

He smiled a little at your dramatics. “I didn’t wanna make a big deal out of it just in case I somehow didn’t end up getting in. I swear I was gonna tell you tomorrow.”

“So, you did all of that annoying application stuff by yourself?”

“Robin helped me with it.”

“I would’ve been happy to help you,” You told him, and maybe you were being a bit overdramatic, but you actually felt slightly offended that he hadn’t wanted to come to you about this. 

The possibility of you two going to the same middle or high school was a far out idea that never happened because you lived in different towns. But, it was still something that was adamantly and wistfully talked about by you and him; how much more fun both of your school lives could be if they intersected in that way like the other parts of your lives did. 

Of course, going to the same college would’ve been the most obvious way for it to finally happen, but Steve never seemed that interested in going to college, and up until the last possible second you were being pushed toward Chicago by your parents. 

But now things were finally different.

“I know that you would’ve, but I didn’t want to talk about it to anyone, honestly. Robin saw me working on the application one day and decided to help,” He explained and you only gave him a small nod in response. “I didn’t even think I’d tell my parents about it, but when I heard my dad’s dumb comment about Family Video I felt like I had to say it so he wouldn’t keep looking at me like a disappointment.” He sighed. “And it’s kinda fucked up… I really don’t wanna care what my parents think about me and what I’m doing with my life, but I think there will always be a part of me that does.”

You thought back to your dad’s approving smile and your mom’s relieved look when you reassured them that you still planned to go to the University of Chicago; how much you still wanted to make them feel at least a little proud of you even though you knew you shouldn’t.

“Me too,” You said softly. 

“I’m glad we probably won’t have to see them again until Christmas.”

You sighed. “Apparently, my dad is gonna bring us a new lock for the door when they get back from their trip.”

“Oh,” Steve said and then smiled at you when it looked like he thought of something. “Okay, what are the odds that he’ll just send someone to put the new lock on the door instead of coming himself?”

You thought about it for a second. “Honestly, I’d say there’s a pretty good chance that would happen. He’ll probably be too busy with work after the trip to actually come and do it himself.”

“Okay, let’s hope for that,” He said as he finished washing the last plate and placed it on the drying rack. “So, since the dessert was a bust tonight, do you wanna go to the diner? I’m sure Mary would never fuck up her apple pie. And then when we get back, we can finish that bottle of wine that our moms left.”

You smiled at his suggestion. “You have a brilliant mind, Harrington.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

(requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Day 16: Yes, no, maybe

Masterlist flufftober 🎃

Reblog if you liked it!

Yes, no, maybe. I don't know. Can you repeat the question?

Spencer had gotten used to hearing that song as the opening theme every Friday, from your TV. One day at work, you referred to one of your favorite sitcoms, and you were quite surprised that the young man didn’t understand what you were talking about.

It turned out that the doctor had extensive knowledge in practically all areas, but entertainment was his weak point. So when you found out he had never seen Malcolm in the Middle, you basically forced him into having weekly meetings at your house to watch all the seasons.

At first, Spencer wasn’t too thrilled, as that genre of television wasn’t his favorite, but after the first season, it turned out that he was quite enjoying the show. The sharp humor, the cleverly written plots, the chaotic and dysfunctional family... all the elements seemed to have captivated his attention.

Many times, for both health and economic reasons, you prepared food at home for dinner. But that day, you decided to treat yourselves and ordered a large pizza with a six-pack of beer for you and lemonade for your friend.

You were both comfortably settled on your couch, ready to start the next episode, when you heard Spencer speak.

“I have a theory.”

“About what?”

“About Malcolm's family”

“Hmm,” you hummed, with your mouth full of pepperoni pizza. “I’m listening.”

“I’ve been thinking, and I believe Hal suffers from compulsive lying and gambling addiction, in addition to clearly seeking a mother figure in Lois. She has obsessive-compulsive disorder, needing to control everything to feel that things will go well; I’d say she’s a bit narcissistic as well, and she’s addicted to nicotine. Francis is completely impulsive, and I would even dare say he suffers from oppositional defiant disorder. Reese displays sociopathic and antisocial behaviors and has low self-esteem that he reflects through violence. Malcolm is gifted, of course, but also has antisocial and narcissistic behaviors, and is even a bit controlling and self-pitying, as if he had the worst of each of his parents. Dewey has musical genius; he’s somewhat introverted but quite sensible, and I want to think he’s the least toxic in the family. I mean, considering the family environment they’re in, they could be worse, but I couldn’t help but notice those psychological peculiarities in each character.”

Throughout the time Spencer had been speaking, you watched him attentively, and when he finished, you let out a loud laugh.

“Reid, when did you have time to think about all that?”

“This week! I started to remember, and somehow I needed to talk to you about the psychology of each family member. I think it’s very interesting; that’s why.”

“Only you could watch a show like this and come to those conclusions,” you laughed friendly.

In the background, the sound of the Wilkerson brothers fighting actively filled the room, and suddenly your friend became shy.

“But what do you think? Do you think I’m right?”

“On all points. It’s a very accurate analysis, yes,” you murmured playfully, taking a sip of your beer. “Who’s your favorite character so far?”

“I think Dewey. He seems very sweet and small… I don’t know, I think he’s a very noble and intelligent boy. Malcolm makes the mistake of letting his ego control him; otherwise, he would be my favorite.”

“Mine is Francis,” you confessed. “When I was a teenager, I was hopelessly in love with him.”

“That makes sense. I think because of your childhood experiences, you seek those chaotic situations in the opposite sex. In your partners, more specifically.”

“Oh, so now you’re psychoanalyzing me?”

“If we’re talking about psychoanalysis from a Freudian perspective, of course not. But Jung, on the other hand, had some contributions that I think are more suitable…”

“Reid,” you interrupted, placing one of your hands on his arm to get his attention. “You know I love hearing you ramble about all that, but do you really want to do such a deep analysis about this? About Malcolm in the Middle?”

It wasn’t a complaint, of course; you just sounded amused by the situation.

“You’re right; I’m sorry. I don’t even know why I’ve thought so much about it.”

“That’s how the minds of geniuses work, I guess,” you joked, giving him a playful shove with your shoulder. “But now I want you to relax; let your brain shut off a little so you can enjoy silly TV situations and eat pizza like any of us mortals.”

Your friend nodded, feeling strange about all the thoughts that had arisen from something as bland as a sitcom, and he settled back into the couch, asking you for another piece of pizza. You spent the entire time laughing, eating, and drinking beside him, chatting occasionally about the show or really anything else.

Suddenly, you started to find resemblances between the characters on your TV and your colleagues in the unit, and when you dared to compare Ida, Lois’s mother, with Chief Erin Strauss, he broke into loud laughter. You rarely heard him laugh so freely, and inevitably, you felt contagious with joy, even if your joke hadn’t been that funny.

“I think she does look a bit alike,” he finally said, practically sprawled on the couch from laughter. “Especially in… you know, her particular personality.”

“Do you think you would have been in the advanced class of brainiacs that Malcolm is in?”

“Of course.”

“Show-off!” you exclaimed, teasing him for the confidence with which he had spoken while playfully shoving him.

You settled in better and pulled a blanket that was nearby so that you two could cover yourselves at least from your legs to your laps. This involved shortening the distance between you, but it didn’t bother you at all.

“I like watching TV with you,” he suddenly murmured, finishing his last piece of dinner. Spencer didn’t like the crusts of the pizza, and you always offered to eat them for him, so that night was no exception.

“I like it a lot too. It’s like… we’re getting rid of a bit of all the stress from work, right?”

“Yeah, I believe so.”

“Especially if it’s with my best friend at work.”

“Am I your best friend at work?”

“Don’t get too excited. You are because I don’t have many options.”

The man let out a hearty laugh, but he took the compliment anyway. In silence, you continued watching the comedy until, at some point during the night, Spencer spoke:

“You’re also my best work friend. And that’s saying something, considering I do have more options.”

With a smile on your face, you leaned over to kiss him on the cheek soundly, like a little girl would do with her preschool friend. It was innocent and sincere.

In the presence of the cold creeping under your feet, you both cuddled closer to each other (in the most respectful and friendly way possible) and continued enjoying the marathon, quite happy to at least be able to steal a couple of hours from the busy life you led.

[tgmsunmontue]

Season to Taste - 8/? WIP

Explicit Hangster - Celebrity Chef Bradley and Naval Aviator Jake Seresin who have a relationship spanning the globe before they realize how tightly bound they are to one another. Heading into this little world.

PROLOGUE/ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

                “I have a friend in Paris, I want you to go there and work in his kitchen.”

                “Why?”

                “You’re too comfortable here. Time to remind you that you never stop learning,” Leandro states and Bradley lets out a slow breath. He’s been here for three years, and he’s learnt so much, and Leandro and Silvia’s hospitality has been amazing. He feels part of their family.

                “I don’t speak French.”

                “It’s okay. You didn’t speak Italian either when you started with me. I will teach you.”

                “You speak French?”

                “Of course. It’s where I trained.”

                “Trained?”

                “I went to Le Cordon Bleu. Now I teach you,” Leandro says, and he rolls his eyes but he’s grinning. Bradley feels like there must be a joke there that he’s missing.

…            …            …

                He’s never spent so much time with a guy he’s not in a relationship with and also having sex with. Spending time with Jake feels so easy, like they’ve somehow skipped ahead over weeks of dating and awkwardness by simply forging ahead with lots of sex and hanging out. They haven’t had deep or meaningful conversations, other than some quite frank discussions around preferences in bed. They’re wonderfully compatible sexually and Bradley hasn’t had as much sex in the last year as he’s had in the last forty-eight hours.

                Jake has gone home, well, to his sister’s house across town, to where he is apparently babysitting his nieces and nephew so that his sister can have a date night with her husband. And also so he can have a night chatting with Vi before her flight home tomorrow. Although chat might be pushing it, because he’s pretty sure Vi is going to have a brain aneurism with all the muttering she’s been doing under her breath. Every time Jake put sauce on something her nostrils flared just a little and he wonders when she got a bigger bee in her bonnet than him about shit like that. She doesn’t even cook.

                “He puts sauce on pickles…” she mutters, and she’s pouring two glasses of wine, so he guesses he’s drinking wine tonight. Clearly because she doesn’t want to drink alone.

                “He does seem to put sauce on everything.”

                “Oh my god…” Vi says, pulling a face.

                “What?”

                “You would normally flip your shit at someone adding sauce to everything and yet… here you are looking like it’s cute. You actually like this guy.”

                “I mean, I don’t like his taste in sauce. But yeah… he’s pretty… uh… great.”

                “Oh my god. Leandro and Silvia are not going to believe it.”

                “How about we don’t share the details of my sex life with them until it’s something more than just sex?”

                “Oh, I’m calling it now. It is definitely more than sex. You wouldn’t be staying if it was just good sex.”

                “What about mind blowingly great sex?”

                “With a guy that adds sauce to everything?”

                “Well, he hasn’t brought it into the bedroom. Yet.”

                He supposes he deserves the punch to the arm.

…            …            …

                Leo is an active rester. That’s the only thing he can take away from watching him be completely unable to just sit. Even after sex he seems to buzz with energy until Jake wrings another orgasm out of him, which had been a delight to learn. Now he’s making more food and he watches as Leo cuts, his hands, fingers and blade flying and it’s mesmerizing, like watching the flicker of flame but instead it’s the flash of a metal blade.

                “Damn you’re good with that…”

                Leo doesn’t stop but he looks up to smile at Jake.

                “The knife is an extension of my arm… just like when you fly. Muscle memory and training.”

                “Huh. You know a lot about flying huh?”

                “Navy brat remember?”

                “Even after you dad died?” Jake asks.

                “Yeah… my godfather stepped up and he helped my mom raise me. So I know all about the military lifestyle. How I was raised.”

                “So your godfather was also an aviator?”

                “Yep,” Leo says, tone clipped and okay, not touching that subject then.

                “So, raised a Navy brat then. Not how you live now, we do not eat this well.”

                “Well, not for lack of trying. I ran away from home when my godfather pulled my papers for USNA. And you put sauce on everything, so it’d all taste the same anyway,” Leo says, winking at him and Jake grins, reaches over and steals a slice of pepper.

                “Wait. You were going to go to USNA?”

                “That was my plan. Instead I got on the first plane out and ended up in Italy.”

                “Holy shit… you kind of brushed over how young you were when you did that.”

                “Yeah. I got very fucking lucky.”

                “Is Violet actually your cousin?”

                “No,” Leo laughs. “Her family pretty much adopted me though.”

                “Huh. Okay.”

                “Here. Try this.”

                Jake obliges, although he’s not quite sure what Leo is hoping to achieve here. Jake hasn’t ever been able to differentiate different flavors, not like some people seem to. He licks the spoon, grinning a little when he sees Leo’s eyes tracking his lips.

                “Could use a little sauce,” he says, just to be an asshole.

                “Don’t be a dick… Come on, I'm trying to make a new dish...”

                “A new dish. Why not just use a recipe?”

                “I wouldn't be much of a chef if I used other people's recipes...”

                “Huh. Okay. You want to have someone that’ll actually talk about the flavors with you? Because I know I’m just going to think everything needs sauce, because I think everything needs sauce. You know who would be really good at this?”

                “Who?”

                “My sister. Well, two of them specifically, but Maria is easiest. She loves all this tasting things over and over stuff.”

                “You’re lucky you’re hot.”

                “Are you saying I have no other redeeming qualities?”

                “Oh, you have plenty of redeeming qualities. Your tastebuds just don’t happen to be one of them.”

                “I’ve got good taste where it’s important…”

                “Smooth, real smooth.”

                “I do alright.”

…            …            …

                “Shit shit shit…”

                “What?”

                “I burnt the rice.”

                “You? You still burn stuff?”

                “Yeah, when there’s a guy in my kitchen naked who decides that fucking me on the dining table is a good decision…”

                “Mmm. Sorry baby. I didn’t think about the food.”

                “Yeah well, the smoke alarm kind of killed the afterglow,” Bradley mutters and Jake snorts against his neck before licking a stripe and he groans again. God. He’s never going to get enough.

…            …            …

                “Hey. I have a favor to ask.”

                “Shovel or money?” Maria asks, clearly distracted by something but Jake is still trying to parse what she’s said.

                “What?”

                “Am I burying a body or am I bailing you out?”

                “Wow. Do you guys have a bet going what will come first?”

                “Yep. So which is it?”

                “Neither actually. Fuck. Maybe this is a terrible idea.”

                “Well, I still don’t know what it is and I’m a little busy so… either piss or get off the pot.”

                God his sisters are all so classy.

                “Do you want to be a taste tester?”

                “What,” Maria asks, and Jake doesn’t hear an inflection, she’s just surprised so he waits. “A taste tester… for a competition or something? Oh god, don’t tell me you’re trying your hand at cooking again, because you’d have to pay me danger money…”

                “Hey! I can make some things! But, no. Leo is a chef and he’s trying to perfect this dish and I’m as useful as tits on a bull.”

                “You’ve got a guy who can cook as well as everything else? How is this fair?”

                “You ain’t even seen him yet Maria, he’s fucking gorgeous.”

                “You get all the luck, I swear. So what… you want me to eat some of his cooking? Oh my god. Let me guess, he asks you and you just keep on adding fucking sauce to it.”

                “Yeah. It kind of makes his eye twitch a little, but he still lets me do it.”

                “Does he now?”

                “Yeah. His cousin uh… actually. Nevermind.”

                “No no, his cousin what?”

                “Just said… well, she said it in Italian, so I could have gotten it wrong, but…” Jake can’t believe he’s sharing this with his sister. “Just that, uh, the dick must be good?”

                “Ew.”

                “You asked!”

                “Remind me of this conversation next time I ask a question you think I won’t like the answer to.”

                “I’ll try. You never listen to me anyway.”

                “Maybe I’ll start.”

CHAPTER NINE

[luvrodite]

the road not taken looks real good now [669]

gn!reader, exes to ?, hopeful ending, light angst, a tribute to the piece i wrote in 2022 inspired by tis the damn season and hometown loves

He doesn’t ask you to stay, no matter how badly you wish he would. And no matter how bad the words linger on the tip of your tongue, you don’t ask him to wait.

The thought of him like that, wrapped up and in love with someone that isn’t you, makes your stomach turn cruelly, but still you say nothing. Bit by bit, you pack up the life you’ve always known – how do you manage to fit years into a single suitcase, you wonder bitterly. It seems like a condemnation – a sign that you were always meant for something else, something not Gotham and her grey, or the tourmaline eyed man who watches over her.

Jason sees you off – puts you on the train like it’s one of those old war movies and stays on the platform until you can no longer see him, the carriage pulling suddenly into the dark tunnel that’s meant to carry you to your great destiny. It sits in your stomach, bitter and mournful. 

He doesn’t kiss you goodbye. You don’t ask. Neither of you say a thing, but the seconds count down, closer and closer to your departure. The station is busy, thrumming with a restless energy that isn’t entirely your own. You watch over his shoulder as a woman rushes, laden with bags and clutching a small child’s hand, into the open doors of the same train you need to get on. Another man shoulders past a group of teenagers, a phone clattering to the ground and a chorus of yells going up.

Somewhere in the chaos, his hand finds yours. It’s a pitiful replacement for all the words that go unsaid, and you can feel – not for the first time since you’d decided to leave – your heart cleave painfully, another fragment falling to the greying tiles at your feet and shattering. At this rate, you’re unsure how much of it will be left by the time you get to where you’re going. 

The seconds flip closer, closer. A squeeze, and then your hand is falling away. Come home. I love you. I miss you already. Don’t go. 

He says nothing, and you wish he would. 

Jason watches you go.

You stay away for a year. A year turns into two and somehow, despite it all, the years continue to pass. You’re twenty six the next time you set foot in Gotham, bundling into the back of your dad’s car when he picks you up outside the airport. 

It feels strange, driving down these roads. The cold bites, even through the rolled up windows and blanket that’s been in the backseat since you were five. You clutch it closer, eyes gazing out. You think if you stare hard enough, you’ll see the ghosts of your youth.

At street corners, under awnings and under lamp posts flickering to life – they’re everywhere. You don’t dare to breathe old names, but you’re suddenly eighteen once more, tired old heart beating once more for the one that haunts every memory. In dreams, in constellations and first kisses – there he remains.

And then, when you walk into that damn dive bar, address flashing on your phone and confirming that yes, this is where your friends had wanted to meet –

All roads inevitably lead back to him. This is a truth he must have known, you think, when you lock eyes with the ones that have haunted you for more than half a decade and they crease at the corners in pleasure.

Jason rounds the counter. 

“You’re back,” he says. You, dazed, dizzy, anguished and lovesick, can only nod. Blue-green threatens to swallow you whole – to keep you, forever. Fingers you’ve not touched in an age tangle with your own and warmth blooms through your fingertips.

“Will you stay,” he asks, adding, belatedly, “for a drink?”

You squeeze his hand. The ache in your chest mellows – real, it whispers. Real, and here, and – yours? 

“I’ll stay,” you murmur and his mouth curls into a shadowed smile, quietly pleased. 

it always leads to you in my hometown is one of those fics i think about a lot for no damn reason. i don't particularly consider it one of my best works but it's so dear to me and i think the reunification of love, the return home and the bitterness of parting is just so….it does my head in (in the best way)

i got to see the song that inspired this fic (and others that provided the soundtrack to SO MANY of my fics) live a few weeks ago and it was such an incredible experience. i don't know, folklore and evermore are just so precious and dear to my heart. i love the stories in those albums and it made me so inexplicably happy being able to see the songs that inspired these fics live and thinking about jason and the memories i've made writing these silly little fics.

anyway i hope you enjoyed this little piece, i hope you're doing well and eating well. i love you

[spork-supremacy]

saw a post about how cliquey the fandom can be, can’t find it for the life of me to reblog but thought I’d share some observations I’ve had over the years of basically being a ghost on here. Granted this is less on behaviour and more on how we can section ourselves naturally.

I find that the bigger the fandom the easier it is for it to get divided into little subsections, especially if it has a lot of content in season variation, characters, and location. Ninjago is a very big prime example of this with around 17 seasons, 2 specials and the pilots, many with themes attached to them. there’s a lot that you could cling onto and make it your one big focus on the show.

It also has a giant cast especially when you include roles that are either small or season specific, once I just tried to see how many I could name alone from memory and I got a little over sixty and I’m sure there’s more. When it comes to location we don’t have too much in mainland Ninjago that begs to be further explored considering most people we actually take notice in live in the main city. But add in the 15 other realms and we have a whole host of interesting locations to explore.

To circle back to characters we also have a lot in our main cast, with a standard of six ninja, now three students, and if you still want to count Pixal, Misako and Wu because you are in denial, and Garmadon’s two season stint in the title sequence, we have 13 who’s been included in the main cast at some point , creating multiple dynamics we can work with and latch onto.for me personally I have always gravitated to the Jay focused side of the fandom because that was where I was most comfortable, looking over character studies, art, headcanons, general Jaya stuff because I have a favourite ship dammit, and skybound analysis because despite how strange of a season it was it was also somehow my comfort season, my favourite one I dare say. I admit it was mainly because I didn’t really think about themes and subtext back in the day and just always loved a romance heavy season of anything. I was simple sue me.

But now I love it because as much as I don’t wish to admit it I can see a lot of myself in early seasons Jay, not necessarily a good thing but watching him grow out of specific negative behaviours helped me to do so myself. With the season itself it’s just fun to pick it apart and notice what exactly was so off to me when I was younger.

And something like this can apply to everyone in the fandom, which is why they stick to their own corners, because that’s where they’re most comfortable. They may stick to a character like Lloyd because he has a lot of angst attached to him to play around with, or someone like dare that because he’s a completely comedic character and prime for crack scenarios, or Nya because of her journey of self discovery. There are definitely still people obsessing over SOG or TOE, or possession. And what I do see is people happy to share their thoughts on their own “fixation season” as I call it.

This is at least how I sort pretty much all media in my own brain and I think it’s kinda neat how the internet can work like it. With a whole branching system that if you take certain doors can have you starting off in the surface entirety of the show to looking over really obscure details like how much the word wish is used every season (great post if you can find it).

this definitely became way more in depth than expected but this is what I have noticed. I very much like how much the internet aligns with my thinking patterns and the imaginatory map of my brain.

Now I just need to figure out if this is neurotypical behaviour .

[youcouldmakealife]

SOTM: Luke/Andreas; bugging out

For the prompt: Anything Luke related, preferably with Andreas Andreas loving on Luke! Just seeing that big sweet lug getting the love he deserves!

Relearning someone is different than learning them, different from knowing. Andreas doesn’t know if it’s better or worse — he’s never experienced it before, knowing someone so intimately, and at the same time, having to relearn the most basic things about them.

There are things that haven’t changed a bit in over a decade. Many of them: Luke’s always been set in his ways. He’s been wearing the same brand of underwear for as long as Andreas has known him. Some of the shirts he refuses to stop wearing were already ragged when Andreas met him. Back then, Andreas wondered aloud why he didn’t throw them out — now he’s just impressed they haven’t disintegrated in the wash.

But of course, things have changed. The obvious physical things; Luke’s career has caught up to him, and he’s got the aches and pains of someone decades older, especially his knee, which can keep him up at night on bad days. No gray in his hair yet, but there’s some in his stubble, which is probably one of the reasons he shaves every day now, though Andreas is sure he’d argue that. He’s mellowed out, the way Andreas finds most people do over time, when they don’t do the exact opposite. Andreas would probably fall into the latter category, but Luke doesn’t seem to mind.

Luke isn’t sporting mysterious cuts and bruises all the time, which Andreas thinks is an improvement, and suspects Luke does too. He’s happier, and some of that, Andreas is sure, is the so-called honeymoon phase, even the second time 'round, but he doesn’t think that's all of it.

Luke was happy at the beginning of their relationship, but there was always an edge to it, something he wasn’t saying, something Andreas knew was there, but didn’t know how to ask about, or, maybe more accurately, wasn’t sure he wanted whatever the answer was. Now it’s been said. Now they’re decades from it instead of years, and it’s still there, but Luke isn’t haunted by it anymore.

But there are less obvious changes. Sometimes they’re a nice little surprise, like finding out Luke’s culinary skills significantly improved since he was in his thirties. He’s not a gourmet chef or anything, but he’s not slapping something with a bit of table salt and calling it seasoned anymore.

Sometimes they’re utterly neutral, and the most surprising thing is that Andreas still remembers well enough to clock the difference, like how Luke was a casual Vikings fan, but now he’s an equally casual Packers fan — Andreas is pretty sure that's a felony in the midwest —or that he's mostly switched from lagers to reds.

And then there’s one that Andreas sticks on. Luke never eats shellfish. That wouldn’t be strange — plenty of people don’t, for various reasons. Except when they were dating, Luke would inevitably order any shellfish dish on the menu, regardless of where they were. It was helpful, honestly — Andreas just had to check the menu for shrimp, or scallops, or lobster, and if it was there, Luke would be happy. But he hasn’t any of the times they’ve gone out, and the one time Andreas ordered a shrimp dish, offered to share, he was vigorous in his denial.

“Sea bugs,” he said with a shudder when Andreas asked, something that struck a vague chord with Andreas, tugging until, halfway to sleep, Luke pinning him to the bed with an arm and a leg, somehow always twice as heavy when he’s asleep — Andreas doesn’t know how the physics of that work, and he’s frankly curious — he remembers Luke, years ago, making faces at Andreas over an ostensibly romantic dinner at a French bistro with a six month waitlist because Andreas ordered escargot.

*

The restaurant is beautiful, the sort of place that seems transported from France a century ago, waiters in black tie and dim lighting, candles playing off everyone’s faces. They’re surrounded by couples, mostly middle-aged or older, here for milestone birthdays or anniversaries. It’s a special occasion sort of place. A place that turns a date night into an occasion in itself.

It would be more romantic if Luke wasn’t constantly looking around, checking if anyone’s paying attention to them. He’s not sure if Luke simply worries he’s sticking out — admittedly, he’d fit in better if he wasn't sporting a shiner from the game against the Lightning last week — or if he’s expecting to be recognized.

They’re in New York City. He plays for the Devils. On the third line. Andreas thinks he’s likely safe.

He says that — more diplomatically, of course — and Luke mumbles, “It looks like we’re on a date.”

“It could just be a business dinner,” Andreas says, rather than pointing out that they are, in fact, on a date, so it’s not like anyone would be getting the wrong impression. It’s not like Andreas would like that known either — he can imagine Dave’s face if he found out he was at a Michelin star restaurant with a client off the clock.

“Really?” Luke asks. “Here?”

The ambiance is admittedly romantic. Andreas doesn’t know why Luke suggested it. Maybe he didn’t know what it was like. More likely he didn’t think it through, thought it’d be nice at the time, in a particular mood, and regrets it now. That whim that makes him occasionally ask Andreas to move in, but never bring it up again outside of bed.

The whim that means that he dropped the gloves against Hicks even though he promised Andreas he’d try to avoid fighting at least long enough to let his nose properly heal. The good news is Hicks somehow avoided his nose, which was either good luck or good sportsmanship. Andreas has decided on the latter — Hicks is signed to their agency, and Andreas would prefer not to hold an irrational grudge against him. Especially considering Luke was the one who started it in the first place.

Their appetizers arrive — escargot for Andreas, scallops for Luke — and Luke blanches at Andreas’ plate.

“I thought snails was just some shit people ordered in movies,” Luke says. “You’re really going to eat that?”

“They’re delicious,” Andreas says.

“They’re bugs,” Luke says, for a moment looking like the most oversized toddler of all time. Andreas wouldn’t be surprised to hear the word ‘yucky’ come out of his mouth next.

“Snails are actually in the same family as shellfish,” Andreas says. “And you don’t seem to mind them.”

Luke looks down at his own appetizer, blanching, and Andreas coughs a laugh into his napkin.

“Maybe I’ll wait for my steak,” Luke says.

“Suit yourself,” Andreas says. “I’ll just be here with my delicious bugs.”

“Dre,” Luke whines.

The escargot is superb. As are Luke’s scallops, which he no longer has the stomach for.

*

“Did I ruin shellfish for you?” Andreas asks.

“What?” Luke says. “Andreas, what time is it?”

“Late,” Andreas says. “Was it the escargot?”

Luke squints at him, then sits up, and Andreas no longer crushed under his weight. He misses it a little, but that’s his own fault.

“I don’t want to ruin things for you,” Andreas says.

“You don’t,” Luke says.

“So it wasn’t the snails?” Andreas asks.

Luke makes the exact same face he did years ago, the one Andreas can only describe as ‘yucky’. Andreas was annoyed with it then, but now all he feels is affection. That and guilt.

“It was the snails,” Andreas says.

“More me reading way too much about shit after,” Luke says.

That’s still the snails.

“I’m sorry,” Andreas says.

“Nothing to be sorry for,” Luke yawns, lying back down. “I hadn’t thought of it in years.”

Perhaps he hasn’t, but Andreas still thinks ruining shellfish for a crustacean lover deserves some level of penance.

“Next time I’ll order the foie gras,” Andreas says.

Luke sits up again. “Did you know that foie gras—“

“Or not,” Andreas says, slinging his own leg over Luke’s, and Luke settles, enough that Andreas can wrap an arm around his chest, put his head on his shoulder. It’s comfortable. He can see why Luke likes it.

“You’re heavy,” Luke mumbles.

Andreas considers pointing out that Luke does this every night, and he’s a fair sight heavier than Andreas, but who knows what would happen? It might just make Luke stop doing it entirely, and Andreas would miss it.

“Do you want me to move?” Andreas asks.

“No,” Luke says, and Andreas presses a smile against his collarbone, closes his eyes.

[darkwing-katy]

I…can live with that, I guess? Thoughts on Evil’s final episode under the cut (aka SPOILERS)

-I’m sad in general that this show is ending and it will take me forever to recover from this show in the best way

-I guess my dream where I shoved Leland into a bathroom to keep him alive kinda worked???

-the main trio reliving their cases as they burn them was fucking adorable

-I’m gonna miss those girls so much

-the fuck are we gonna do about Lexis???? She seemed normal this season but, like, she had fangs and a tail and was born from a place tainted with demonic stuff. I wanna know how that resolves.

-okay so I guess since Timmy was baptized he can’t be the Antichrist? They were just gonna pivot and make another one? That’s fun.

-the sheer bureaucracy of the online meeting of the 60 had me cackling. “Norm. You’re muted.”

-NORM. IT’S THE BUTTON SHAPED LOKE A LOZENGE poor Leland has to deal with so much shit with these incompetent demons

-“you’ve protected Kristen for four years, Leland.” Uhm. What? He’s been protecting her? Why????? I NEED MORE OF THIS EXPLAINED TO ME????? It can’t just be the whole mother of the Antichrist thing, right???? THERE’S MORE TO IT.

-all things considered, I firmly believe Leland would not have actually killed Timothy. I dunno why; I can’t explain it. But I don’t think he’d do it. Not after that nice little drop of David’s goodness in him.

-Leland putting in earphones while creeping into the house to murder Kristen?? And singing and bopping along in the basement? Iconic. Iconic and adorable. I love him. I have a problem, I know.

-I WAS TRYING NOT TO FREAK OUT WHEN SHE CAME AT HIM WITH THE CORD (“oh shit, guess the bathroom didn’t work after all” was what I told my husband)

-but also the hilarious irony of Kristen strangling him with a red cord like that when that’s how Michael Emerson’s character kills John Locke in LOST???? Like I was stressing but also giggling like a psycho

-the reveal of the meaning behind the countdown was so on point for this show. This fucking show. (What about the bricks, though? Why did they want people to remove the bricks in Kristen’s basement?????)

-DAVID I DON’T THINK LOCKING HIM IN A CABINET IS ANY BETTER THAN STRANGULATION WITH A CORD???? IS HE JUST GONNA ROT IN THERE????

-(okay but all things aside, Leland technically didn’t die on screen and I love to imagine that he was released somehow) (o shit did I just come up with another fic idea????)

-FENNA!!!!!! FENNAAAAAAA!!!! THAT LIL SHOULDER BUMP!!!!!!!

-Kristen’s Dutch counterpart convincing her to move???? Wonderful

-Kristen and David in Rome??? With the girls and Timmy? And cool Italian sunglasses? Wonderful. 10/10. They get to be together but David doesn’t have to choose between her and God. Sure, there’s still sexual tension, but, they’re TOGETHER and not all meaningful relationships have sex as an active component

-BEN SHOULD HAVE GONE WITH THEM AND I STAND BY THIS

-THAT ENDING???? And the fact that Katja decided that was how Kristen should react on the fucking day of filming???? 10/10 no notes, only undeniable curiosity as to what would happen if we miraculously got a season 5

-that cliffhanger is satisfying but also I need a season five. And six. And seven eight nine.

Anywho. That’s, uh, about where I am right now. I’m extremely sad. I ate sushi and ice cream and it helped until it didn’t. I’m gonna continue rewatching the whole dang thing. I’m gonna finish rewriting my Leland fic. I might actually make the shirt I was joking about in an earlier post. Hell, I think the idea of a circle skirt with the map of the different demonic sigils would be amazing. And then I’m probably gonna wanna write more fanfic because I’m still in denial that it’s actually over.

But hey! In my head, Leland is not dead! That’s a win!!! Good job, Dream Kate! You sorta succeeded in protecting your favorite character!

[klaineccfanficlibrary]

Hi! Can you please recommend some enemies to lovers to enemies trope / Friends to enemies to lovers?? Thanks!

Generally, the trope is usually enemies to lovers, or friends to lovers, so maybe you want fics with a different twist to them and it's all not just a happy ending? Here are some where they start as either friends, become lovers, but it's not so simple and they have to overcome obstacles to be together. Or they are enemies, become lovers and then have some sort of fall out, which may or may not be resolved. ~ Jen

Please suggest others!!

In Every Stitch verse by @quizasvivamos

24-year-old Blaine Anderson and 26-year-old Kurt Hummel are both breakout designers who had gained the attention of the public by competing on the reality television hit Project Runway in their respective seasons. When both are invited back to compete in the All Star challenge, the competition heats up, tension builds between the two, and what happens off camera changes everything.

and Part 2 emBarK and Part 3 Out with a Bang

~~~~~

Collide by @scatter-the-stars

Kurt Hummel is having a terrible week. On top of his car breaking down and his laptop dying at the worst time possible, finding his boyfriend cheating on him is the final straw against the camel’s back. A night of drinking is much deserved. But waking up in bed with star quarterback Blaine Anderson is something he doesn’t need. Determined to forget it and move on, he finds that hard when Blaine has other ideas. At first wanting nothing to do with the biggest playboy on campus, somehow Kurt finds himself agreeing to being friends with Blaine. It’s a friendship that opens his eyes to the guy he never really knew. And soon finds him wanting the one person he maybe shouldn’t want.

Note: Part 1 of Major and Minor

~~~~~

In My Place by @heartsmadeofbooks

Blaine has always been shy and introverted, so after his father dies, he looks for comfort into his childhood dream - owning a bookstore. But then Kurt Hummel walks into his life, turning his dream into a complicated affair.

~~~~~

The Seduction by @hkvoyage

Venetian Blaine arrives at Carnival’s masquerade ball, looking for his next conquest. His reputation as a lover is legendary, and no one can resist him. Virgin Kurt captures his attention, but seducing him will require careful planning. As they spend time together, will Blaine be able to carry out his plan successfully? A historical Klaine AU set in 18th-century Venice.

~~~~~

Someone Like You by iconicklaine

Kurt and Blaine keep up their very own version of “When Harry Met Sally” for years, a friendship fraught with sexual tension and longing, until the agendas of Adele (yes, THE Adele), a bored NY socialite and a super-sweet hetero couple bring our boys together. The only problem is… they’re both in committed relationships.

Note: This story is AU after “Sexy,” and assumes Kurt and Blaine graduate from Dalton in the same year. In this future fic, set in 2025, Blaine is based off of Season 2 Blaine.

~~~~~

100 Days by borogroves

Kurt and Blaine have been best friends (and nothing more) since the age of six. Now 22-year-old college graduates, they take a roadtrip around the USA, visiting every state in 100 days. Fifty states. Two boys. One love story.

~~~~~

Perfectly Imperfect by @catcat-85

Golden Globe winning actor, Blaine Anderson went to prison for a murder he did not commit. After 5 long years, he has escaped from prison, and in a desperate need to get to a safe house before he can leave the country; he kidnaps Kurt, and forced him to drive him to a secluded cabin nestled in between the snowy mountains in Vermont. For Blaine, it’s his last chance for freedom. Falling in love is the last thing on Blaine’s mind. It’s not part of the plan. And for Kurt, it’s a terrifying situation that disrupts the impeccably perfect life he has created for himself. He’s outraged and angry at Blaine, and yet; he can’t help but believe Blaine is innocent.

Will the truth finally come out and Blaine be exonerated? Will the FBI catch him and put him back in prison? Will he and Kurt fall in love even in the most hopeless situation? Will love truly prevail all at the end?

Based on the novel, Perfect, by Judith McNaught. This is a story about two men who are complete opposites from one another; and yet, they complete each other in a perfectly imperfect way.

~~~~~

Renegade verse by ali_llyon

The hardships of being in a relationship with a mob boss. Or, two people being in love while sometimes feeling they aren't worthy of it.

The title is from the song Renegade by Big Red Machine and Taylor Swift: Is it insensitive for me to say Get your shit together? So I can love you

The story is not in chronological order.

[katnissdoesnotfollowback]

Hi KDNFB!

Per chance, would Peeta from your WIR universe be into this stocking/stiletto combo?

https://poshmark.com/listing/Womens-NEW-Miss-Lola-Red-Striped-Pointed-Sock-Heels-Thigh-High-Boots-75-6421d11817fb4bc029bd2a7c?utm_source=pin_unpaid

Anon… I have but one question for you…

Rated M below the cut.

“But… how would you wash them?” I ask and point to the open tab on Peeta’s laptop. He’s still blushing furiously. Rather silly, given the way we fucked last night after all the children finally went to sleep. And also given that we’re now parents of six children in total -- five still underage and one an adult.

“Why would you need to wash them? The cloth wouldn’t be touching your feet.”

“No but those socks always wind up… filthy,” I say and shift on my feet before gathering myself back together. Ridiculous to be embarrassed by this. “I’ve had to wash sweat, semen, and my own sex mess off those socks. It drips down my thighs afterwards, you know,” I remind him. Not to mention the one very memorable time Peeta came just from sliding his dick through my squeezed together thighs in a pair of those stockings. Now that was an laundry adventure afterwards...

For a moment, Peeta seems torn between arousal at my dirty words, and embarrassment. Embarrassment wins out.

“I just thought… I don’t know, you refused to tell me where you got all your stockings from!” he hisses, motioning helplessly. “So I thought I’d try to find them online. You haven’t worn them since we found out we were having Daphne, and I know the red pair at least is worn out so… yeah. That,” he waves towards the screen, “happened.”

I raise one eyebrow at him and cross my arms. It’s clear he didn’t intend to be caught shopping for what amounts to lingerie in this marriage, but it’s his fault, really. We needed to print out the forms for Olive’s hockey season and he’d told me they were open on his laptop. Not my fault he shared his passwords with me. Not my fault he’d actually left this tab on top instead of the hockey forms.

I glance again at the picture of the red knit stockings that are somehow attached to and cover a pair of high heels.

“I rarely wear heels,” I remind Peeta and he heaves an exasperated sigh.

“I know that! I wouldn’t expect you to stand on them for long, but your ass looks amazing in heels,” he grumbles and I can’t help but laugh at how perturbed he seems. I didn’t think he cared that much about the fact that I haven’t worn the stockings in well over a year. And now it’s my turn to blush and look away.

“They don’t… fit anymore,” I mumble and tuck back some of my hair.

“What was that?”

“They don’t fit anymore!” I say a little louder and Peeta steps back slightly. I don’t apologize though.

“How could they not fit? They’re socks,” he says, incredulous. 

It annoys me that he’s fixated on this, but when I take a deep breath, I remind myself that sometimes, not often, but every now and then, the effects of Glimmer cheating on him all those years ago rears its head in the form of an insecurity. And maybe my not wearing the socks for a long time triggered one of those insecurities. Ridiculous, again, given how frantic we were in bed last night, trying to squeeze in at least one orgasm a piece before Daphne woke up and demanded to be cuddled. She’s teething right now and demands a lot of attention as a result.

I sigh and squeeze my eyes shut before I force out the words. “My thighs are too fat now.”

“Excuse me, they're what?” Peeta asks and I growl in my throat.

“Don’t make me say it again! The socks… they cut off my circulation and bunch up in weird, unflattering ways. My thighs are too fat for them.”

Peeta stares at me for a few breaths and then suddenly he’s right in front of me, picking me up and slamming my back into the nearest wall. I wrap my legs around him automatically and he grips my thighs as he kisses my throat and rocks his hips into me.

“Then fuck the socks. I love your thighs. I fucking love having them wrapped around me. My hips, my head. Sliding against mine. Tucked up against my torso while you ride me. That one time you made me come with just your thighs. Your naked thighs, stocking clad thighs, dripping with bathwater, soap, or chocolate, I don’t fucking care.”

I can’t help but laugh. “Dripping with chocolate?”

“Shut up. I love gripping them when we fuck or make love or make out like this. Kissing them on my way to your pussy. Your thighs are not the problem,” he says and my head spins with the immediate rush of desire dampening my panties. Which is rare. It’s another issue we’ve had to deal with since Daphne was born, my body’s seeming inability to match functions like producing arousal when I'm… aroused.

And I am aroused. Gripping his bulging arm muscles in my hands and holding on while he grinds up against me. His cock is hard and I push myself down onto him. His fingers dig into my thighs and he moans in my ear.

“Katniss, fuck. Can we lock the door?”

“Dad! Hockey forms?” Olive shouts from down the hallway and we both groan. But we manage to disentangle ourselves from our heated embrace just before she barges in. Peeta is thankfully swift enough to switch windows so Olive doesn’t see the socks/high heel combo, and prints out the hockey forms.

Before they leave the room to fill them out, Peeta gives me another heated look. And later, when I have a few minutes to myself, I look up the store where I used to buy all those colorful knit socks.

[jokeroutsubs]

[📝ENG translation] The Big Comeback - Joker Out about their new album, inspiration, and returning to Tvornica

Original article by Maria Tušek, published 19.11.2024, photos by Matej Grgić.

Translation by IG irenalemajic, review by IG marija_rocen, @moonlvster, IG mia_djordjevic_ig, proofread by @flowerlotus8

Joker Out, the Slovenian five-piece band, best known for their Eurovision performance that conquered our region, are returning to Zagreb with a new album and an even fresher sound.

After winning the hearts of the audience with their infectious hits and energy, they're ready to showcase the best they've created over the past months and also years. We spoke with Bojan, Jure, Kris, Jan, and Nace about their inspiration, creative process, and everything they have in store for us at their new concert.

It was one of those scenically beautiful, yet surprisingly sunny days. The so-called "toothy sun"¹, because no matter how beautiful it looked, it was just as cold. I dusted off my last season's coat, put it on, quickly got ready, and headed to Tvornica, where Joker Out were waiting for me, ready for their concert on the 3rd of December.

¹In Serbo-Croatian, the expression "zubato sunce" (literally translated as "toothy sun") is commonly used to describe the winter sun, whose coldness "bites" with its fictional "teeth".

I sit down at Tvornica Kulture's café and order a coffee by default, slowly preparing for the interview. As I take my third sip, out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of Bojan entering the café with the rest of the team. They're busy, as usual, they had to record a hundred other things even before my interview, so I tell them everything's okay and I have time (at least I managed to go through all the questions once more).

"We’re finally done, we can sit down," they said smiling. We arranged six chairs in Veliki Pogon and started the interview. Since they’re Slovenian, I was a bit nervous, because I have this theory that it’s all some kind of reverse Google Translate - they understand us, but we don’t understand them. Luckily, a good part of the band speaks Serbo-Croatian, so we managed to understand each other.

Joker Out have been around since 2016. Do you think you’ve evolved since then, or have you stayed true to your genre?

Bojan: When I listen to the first and the second album in retrospect, I can see there’s a lot more change than I would've thought while we were in the process of creating them. I think the second album already had quite a bit of divergence and growth from the first one, but I’d say the leap now is much bigger than it was before. On this third album, for the first time, we had, I'd say, a discovery of new worlds with different instruments and samples. So, yeah, it’s been a journey, but somehow we’ve still managed to maintain, at least I think, how could I say, we didn’t go to some other world, but we kept the foundation, the sail that makes sense, while things around it changed. Same shit, different packaging.

We all burst into laughter, breaking any awkwardness, if there was any. I decided to dance through the questions a bit, so I turned to their new latest single at the time, 'Bluza'.

You recently released the single 'Bluza' from your upcoming album 'Souvenir Pop'. What was the inspiration for the song?

Bojan: 'Bluza' is a love song, practically written as a story describing a night out of a man looking for, not necessarily looking for the love of his life, but he finds it accidentally at the opposite table and, of course, I think for most people, in most cases, such love doesn't exist or evolve into something more than that first moment when you dream about what could happen, and maybe in the end nothing would happen, maybe it would be a disaster, but in that perfect dream and perfect moment, it feels like when the café lights come on, you’ve lost everything in the world, but actually you had nothing, so that’s the feeling we wanted to convey.

At this point, Kris adds onto this: “That’s the story for the general public, but actually we had a concept for the music video involving a kafana fight², so we just needed to come up with a song for it,” he jokes.

²Kafana is a distinct type of local bistro, common in some former Yugoslav countries, which primarily serves alcoholic beverages and coffee, and often also light snacks.

Speaking of writing, who writes the lyrics and what does writing a song look like for you?

Bojan: I write all the lyrics, it's always been like that. Writing a song, hmm. Well, honestly, I started writing the lyrics for 'Bluza' in 2018 and then nothing happened with them. When we came to London for a concert, I played it to the boys on my acoustic guitar and it kind of clicked, so quite quickly the song developed into a story which now feels complete and that's it. Some lyrics are born in 15 minutes, others take a few years.

How come you write songs in multiple languages, do you think it makes it easier for you to reach your audience?

Bojan: I think I can get in touch with myself even more when I write in multiple languages, it turns out that I think differently in different languages, so some stories literally come out in English in a way I would never think in Slovenian or Serbo-Croatian, and vice versa. So, I really enjoy having a bigger palette to create with.

Bojan, how does it feel to write a song in English, Serbo-Croatian or Slovenian, is there any difference in the whole process?

Bojan: Well, each language is like a different instrument to me. I’d say that in my head it's like sitting down at different types of pianos - each one has its own specific sound and triggers different thoughts.

You’re returning to Tvornica soon, precisely on the 3rd of December. Last time you were here, you sold out two concerts at Tvornica, what does such support from the audience mean to you?

Bojan: I think the first time we played in Croatia, at Šalata as the opening act for Buč Kesidi, we were really surprised by the audience’s reaction and that really changed our perception of what we could try to achieve in Croatia, and that’s when we dared to play at Tvornica. Before that, it hadn't even crossed our minds. Both concerts were awesome, and the audience was phenomenal, really warm and "energetically right", it matches our energy on stage, so we love coming back here. I’m sure that this third time will be even better because we’re a little more rested. With this new album, we’ve mixed everything that happened before, because the first two concerts were still in that post-Eurovision cycle, when we were still kind of half-asleep, so now we’ll be able to experience everything better, at least that’s what I think.

And the others agreed with him.

What are you preparing for the upcoming concert, do you have any surprises?

Bojan: A lot.

Kris: At the concert, you can expect that we’ll play the whole album for the first and possibly the last time. After that, we’re not sure if we’ll have the chance to play the whole album again, so if people want to hear it, they’d better come.

Bojan: Our opening act is the second-best band in Slovenia - they say they’re not preparing any more surprises because, they jokingly add, they have too many members in the opening act as it is.

Let’s focus again on you and possible collaborations. You filmed the music video for 'Bluza' with Buč Kesidi, with whom you’ve also performed. Is there a possibility for a joint project?

Bojan: There’s definitely a possibility, but we haven’t talked or thought about anything yet - he paused and looked at the other band members - actually, maybe a collaboration is already happening, it’s just awful, but maybe one day it will see the light of day.

In one interview, you mentioned that Senidah, among others, was your role model. How come you haven’t collaborated with her yet, and can we expect such a project in the future?

Bojan: I think Senidah³ changed the perspective, let’s say. The Balkan audience didn’t really accept Slovenian artists, let's put it that way, at least not in the mainstream sense, and she changed that. It’s true that she performs in Serbian, but for a Slovenian artist to become mainstream, even one of the biggest, if not the biggest at one point, that hadn’t happened before, and it certainly opened a lot of doors for us, at least in terms of mentality.

³Senidah is a Slovenian singer-songwriter, often dubbed the "Balkan Trap Diva" by the media. She rose to popularity across the former Yugoslavia upon the release of her single "Slađana" in 2018 and she sings in Serbian.

Kris: It gave us hope.

Bojan: It absolutely gave us hope, and that’s a big deal for us. We’ve never really interacted with her because, honestly, I don't know if we've ever really met. I feel like it’s harder to get to her than it is to get to the president. But we’re definitely open to collaboration with her, Senidah is cool.

Do you think that you as a band have become a role model for other Slovenian performers and that you give them hope?

The mentality of young bands in Slovenia has certainly changed, they certainly think differently about where they can go and what they can try, we’ve received similar feedback from various artists. People from abroad contact me saying, “We discovered a new Slovenian band through you,” and that’s a very, very important and amazing thing.

Speaking of projects and collaborations, would you ever return to Eurovision?

Everyone at once: NO.

Me: Why not?

Kris: Go to Eurovision and you’ll find out.

We all laughed, and it became clear from their answer - Eurovision is something you do once, and there’s no real reason to go back. Unless you’re representing Sweden.

One basic question, what is your favorite song?

Many of them agreed with the song from the new album, 'Ako toga više neće biti', some were also in favour of 'Muzika za decu', while Kris added 'Sonce' as his favourite.

Do you listen to your songs, for example, in the car or at home?

Bojan: No! If it’s on the radio, I immediately switch it, because the most beautiful moment for me is when I haven’t heard the studio version of a song for a long time and by then, I’ve forgotten everything we wanted during the whole process and what bothered us, and when I hear the song after a year and a half, only then I can finally enjoy everything that song actually delivers, I’m not burdened by technical things, I don’t care, I just listen to the song.

When you look back, what is the most memorable moment in your career so far?

Kris: For me, it was our first concert abroad, after Eurovision, our first solo concert after Eurovision.

Bojan: For Jan and me, it was the presentation of our first album, somehow we had the highest level of euphoria and sincere childlike joy then.

Jan: The biggest adrenaline boost!

I looked at the paper and realised I didn’t have any more questions to ask, and we really went through all the topics. Joker Out are slowly releasing songs from their latest album, so be sure to follow them, and I definitely recommend the concert on the 3rd of December at Tvornica, where they’re announcing a huge spectacle!

[chernabogs]

Growing Season

Inc: Malleus x Reader (2nd person terms used for reader; can be taken as romantic, but nothing in stone :) ).

Warnings: None! Maybe a little bit of political drama, but I mean... that's being a Prince for you.

WC: 2k+

Summary: It's time to add new roses to his garden in Briar Valley, and he considers all of the things he'll write to you about in his next letter as he does so.

It’s a warm day in the Valley—unusually so. Malleus moves soundlessly through the gardens, a tray of small rose bushes in his hands as his gaze rakes over the patches of soil bare and open for new harvest. The sounds of insects buzzing, their gossamer wings caught in the rays of the sparse sunlight that trickles in, frequently diverts his gaze from his task. Those same sun rays cause the black clothing he wears to heat him up to a point that he feels sweat forming.

Black is inconvenient in the spring. He hears your voice vaguely in the back of his mind as he holds the tray, your silver-tongued rebuttal about how leather and latex are causing his illness when he complained of being too hot before. His fingers tighten around the tray, and he kneels, the scent of earth mixing with the myrrhic one of the trees nearby. He can tell the last frost has passed as his pale fingers sink into the soil and disturb it, upturning it like a grave for the seedlings he’s about to plant. Briar Valley’s frigid air left little time for the planting of roses—making today an especially important one.  

He's been writing you letters. Despite the distance between you both—he, in the Valley, and you, still on Sage’s Island—and the inhibition of Briar Valleys non-technological lifestyle, you two had managed to work things out. He told you he was going to plant these today many weeks ago. It was one of those sparse, passing comments you make to your loved ones without much thought. Then, your most recent letter had asked if he was planting them still. Somehow, throughout all the exchanges you’ve had since that comment, you remembered what he had said. 

When the hole is sufficiently deep, he carefully—surgically—removes one of the seedlings from the tray and sets it into the earth. He pushes the dirt back and pats it down, almost loving in his touch. 

One down, six to go.  

The letters you two exchange serve as something for him to look forward to. Because of the way Briar Valley’s postal service is, they only come once a week—sometimes only once every other—and yet they’re so detailed it’s like reading a small novel every time one arrives. He tries to match your level of excitement; you write of your classes and your friends; he writes of his duties and politics. You write of your eagerness for holidays, he bemoans how these holidays no longer exist for him. You ask if you can see him this summer, he tells you of a wonderful summer estate that the Draconia family possesses on the coast—one he has a key for.  

He kneels on the earth again and sets the tray aside. He would get some odd looks from his attendants when he returned with flushed cheeks and dirt on his hands, but he doesn’t let this bother him right now. He’s sequestered away in an idyllic world—one of sunlight, and flowers, and dragonflies with their gossamer wings—and he isn’t keen on letting the attendants break the illusion as he continues to think of you. His hands sink into the earth again and dig another fresh grave of flowers as he places the next seedling down.

Five more to go.  

The constant flow of mail is noticed by those around him, of course. Whereas Silver and Sebek who know you don’t care that you two talk (if anything, they’re glad their Prince has someone outside the Valley to speak to) the servants, the attendants, and those who keep the inner-mechanisms of the Palace running are curious—and curiosity has killed more than one cat in its lifetime. He wasn’t surprised when an inquiry came down from the Senate regarding an influx of letters from Night Raven College. They have no business asking, of course, but the Senate has authority and he, who is set to work with them for the rest of his life, has explanations he needs to give.  

His knees hit the earth again and he digs another hole. He’d have bruises tomorrow; gentle kisses from the soil, reminding him of the brief labor he embarked in. In another life he would have found himself toiling in the fields for a living rather than leisure. Harvest is a key part of Briar Valley life; many he knows work long hours in the sun. He plants another seedling, gives another life to the earth, and sighs.  

Four more to go.  

You’re something he wants to keep secret for now for one reason—forbidden. A Prince may have friends, but a Prince may not love freely. It’s a harsh reality a tutor had drilled into him when he had made an off-handed comment about wishing to marry the charming character from Briar Valley’s mythologies he had been reading. It was a comment that a child would make—and yet the tutor had acted like he committed a grave sin. It was one of the few times he cried before an adult. The tutor had been dismissed—no one touches the Prince—but the lesson long remains in Malleus’ mind. Whereas I love you holds weight to many already, to fall from his lips would be a commandment set in stone. He cannot just say it to anyone. 

It’s by the blue roses that he plants the next seedling. He wonders if you like blue as he sets it down gently into the soil. Or perhaps you like green? Maybe yellow? Maybe white? He looks up at the roses he had been planting for many springs so far, each a different yet vibrant color. He’ll find your favorite and enchant it so that he can send it to you with his next letter. That will brighten your day as you continue your studies at NRC. He remembers how stressful they were, after all. 

Three more to go. 

His Grandmother had asked him recently about his influx of letters as well. Queen Maleficia, despite what many people presume from their relationship at a glance, is quite caring for her last family member. Although she keeps a strict, professional front to all, Malleus has been privileged to see her softer, more compassionate side more than once—and always directed at him. He admits, he did ramble a bit about you. There was much to say, after all; you were his friend, his confidant, and the person who managed to brighten his week in your own unique way even an ocean apart. She had watched him talk, her green eyes shining with an emotion he couldn’t place as a smile played on her lips, before she had simply said that’s wonderful, dearest, and let him on his way. When she received a request from him to investigate old Briar Valley laws for review, she had not commented on it, nor questioned him on his reasoning—she had simply approved it and moved on. 

The sun is still rising in a slow, tedious climb in the sky, and Malleus is beginning to hear others waking up. Servants are speaking of the latest gossip in the kitchens—which, admittedly, he loves to listen in on—and a few guards are making their rounds through the gardens. Malleus crouches a bit lower to not be seen by them as he plants the next seedling. He’d rather not be roped into an uncomfortably polite conversation following the lines of ‘my Prince, why are you hiding in the bushes?’ any time soon. 

Two more to go.

He had considered sending you another letter when the Senate had requested a brief freeze in mail to the Palace. They wanted to readjust the way that it was sent in to enable a more thorough checking of contents before being delivered. Malleus isn’t stupid; he knew this was their method of nosing into his personal business under the guise of official legislature. He’d been moody about it for weeks until your most recent letter was finally approved to come in. The one he’s planning to send next will certainly be longer; along with the rose he’d selected, he’ll be happy to discuss this latest change with you as well, alongside the law reviews, and the planting of the seedlings. You’ll finally get the novel-length message he knows you deserve, and he dearly hopes the reviewers like reading it as well. 

Two more seedlings sit in his tray, He feels terrible separating them, setting only one in the hole, and taking the other away. They’d been planted and nurtured together for the laborious months he fussed over them in his greenhouse—and now, they’re a gardens width apart. A small, melancholic grimace plays on his lips. He’ll plant the last one directly across the plot; that way the two plants will still see each other every day. 

How funny, to treat plants like people, and to try to keep them together even when they cannot be.  

One more to go. 

There’s a passage written in a story he read once: The Fae and The Fallow. It’s a book that had been banned in the Valley until shortly after he was born due to the nature of its content. The tale follows a Fae Prince by the name of Ælfric, who lived long, long before the Draconia family did. Ælfric fell in love with a human, Auðr, and entered a forbidden affair with them; their love had been deep and true—enough to inspire a four-hundred page epic—and Ælfric had promised Auðr he’d find a way for them to be together. Unbeknownst to Ælfric, another Fae by the name of Goda saw the two lovers and—in jealousy over being denied Ælfric’s hand—poisoned Auðr when Ælfric had left on a hunt. 

The Prince had gone on an odyssey of sorts to save his lover’s life, even venturing into the Otherworld to find a way. There had been battles, and betrayal, and all the wonderful pieces that a child like Malleus loved to read. 

But he remembers hating the ending of The Fae and The Fallow.  

Ælfric, out of time and losing Auðr quickly, had begged an ancient spirit of the Otherworld to find a way for him and his love to be together. In return, the spirit had turned them into fallow deer; their lifespans were shortened, but Auðr was alive, and as the fallow deer, they were able to be together without judgment and fear. The story had claimed the fallow deer of the Valley were evidence of Ælfric and Auðr’s story; their love had, in a way, lasted forever. 

Malleus had burned his copy of the book after that. The entire thing incinerated, save for one page that he tore out and kept close. In this scene, Ælfric has just become lost after a battle with a great giant. He feels alone, torn from his friends and further from his lover than ever before. Malleus tore it out of the book because he, in some strange twist, felt like he could understand Ælfric in the moment. The passage simply said; 

I have been in the darkness without the light of your smile to guide me Without your beauty to inspire me, without your voice to unravel me Oh, my love, my life You are a forbidden Eden that I seek; One that I yearn for when without, and I mourn for when denied  My paradise, my fall  I will defy even the Gods to keep you by my side

He considered sending you a copy of the tale with his letter as well. You did say you liked reading but something about the story—about the passage he saved in his pocket which now reminded him always of you—felt too sacred, too personal to give away just yet. So, he tucks it away, with your letters signed ‘yours truly’ at the end, and he bides his time, bides on the Senate, bides on old laws that are now being considered in review. It takes three years for a rose bush to grow, but Malleus will wait a thousand if it means finally having you. 

Your story will not be Ælfric and Auðr—this, he swears. He will not let any Senate, any laws, or any intent poison you as Auðr had been. 

He sets the last seedling in the hole and sighs, patting it down before looking up and around at the garden once more. The morning sunlight is golden, the heat now more bearable, and the flowers sway gently in a spring breeze. It’s beautiful, it’s promising, and hidden within a paradise of his own, the Fae Prince wears a soft smile.

[tgmsunmontue]

Season to Taste - 15/? WIP

Explicit Hangster - Celebrity Chef Bradley and Naval Aviator Jake Seresin who have a relationship spanning the globe before they realize how tightly bound they are to one another. Heading into this little world.

PROLOGUE/ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE

TEN ELEVEN TWELVE THIRTEEN FORTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

                He laughs as he enters the restaurant, Leandro and Silvia’s voices calling out to him and he’s very aware that they’ve arranged a party later for his birthday and also his new residency visa. He hadn’t been paying attention, hadn’t thought about it, until Ice had raised it last year in one of their phone calls and told him that his passport was going to expire and he needed to maybe consider coming home. Except he’d been gone for nearly a decade and it didn’t feel like home anymore. He hadn’t been able to fathom it.

                Then Ice had brought all the paperwork to him, walking into the restaurant himself and Bradley had hugged him so tightly because the anger has long since faded but the pride at not wanting to apologize for running away was still there. He has no regrets about running away, or how his life has turned out so far. He’s happy and has found a big family that has just enveloped him and made him one of their own and he can’t imagine his life being better in any way. Vi is his best friend, along with Giacomo, the three of them doing a road trip to Roma to the American Embassy to apply for his new passport in the summer.         

                “What are going to do to celebrate?”

                “Well, I know it’s maybe a little dramatic, but I thought of getting a tattoo.”

                “Yeah? What of?”

                “I’ve got some ideas.”

…            …            …

                Bradley watches as Jake dips every single piece of potato into sauce before eating it. He can’t believe how comfortable and happy he feels right now. They clear away the plates and wash up, before settling on the sofa, Jake’s head in his lap. They’re going to watch documentaries, because that and movies are apparently the only thing Jake likes to watch, which explains why he’s never seen Bradley on TV if this is what he prefers. Bradley himself doesn’t usually have time to watch anything, so it’s nice, just the novelty of sitting there and enjoying being close to someone else. He doesn’t even notice he’s snuck his hand beneath Jake’s t-shirt and been rubbing his thumb back and forth softly over his stomach until Jake’s hand covers his and he stills, goes to almost apologize and move his hand but Jake’s hand is firm, holding Bradley’s hand in place.

                “You’ve already ordered off the menu tonight, are you that insatiable you��re going back for seconds?”

                “Technically I think it’s thirds. And you did call yourself an all you can eat buffet,” Bradley jokes, but he really hadn’t been aiming to start anything, had simply been enjoying touching and being close.

                “Well, this buffet is closed sorry. Maybe after I’ve had a couple hours sleep we can reassess.”

                Bradley shakes his head like he’s somehow disappointed despite it not being the case, and he grins down at Jake’s upside-down face.

                “Mmm… it’s okay. If it gets bad enough I can always go self-service.”

                Jake snorts and Bradley can’t help but grin, it’s easy and fun and while a little part of him is worried it’s going to burn fast and bright before crashing and burning he can’t find it in himself to care. He doesn’t want to miss out on the right-now because of something that might happen.

                “Oh no… no no no. Hmm, wait. Maybe I wouldn’t mind watching that. Was going to say I could take care of that for you, but maybe I’ll just be lazy and watch.”

                “Well, it’s all hypothetical anyway, I wasn’t actually angling for anything more than a kiss…”

                “Ah, well, I am always happy to kiss you. You know, sticking with your food and sex philosophy… for me sauce is like kissing. No one needs sauce to make the food taste better, sometimes the food can be amazing without it. And I can eat it without it. But I’m always going to want to add sauce…”

                “And you’re always going to want kissing too huh?”

                “I wouldn’t say no.”

                “Come here then…” Bradley says, and he’s smiling as he bends down and presses his lips against Jake’s, his entire body thrumming with happiness as Jake’s nose bumps his chin and he pulls back, a sudden thought occurring to him.

                “You wouldn’t have sauce with dessert would you?”

                “Leo, babe, dessert is all the hand-holding, and cuddling and gentle touches. Of course I want sauce with them.”

                Bradley blinks, shakes his head.

                “No, I mean actual real literal dessert, like brownie or… ice cream.”

                “Oh. Huh. Well… I haven’t tried sauce with any desserts, but also I don’t have the biggest sweet tooth. Maybe because I can’t add sauce.”

                “Mmm. You are pretty sweet already.”

                “Oh, I know dozens of people who would disagree with you there but I’m glad you think so. Don’t mind being sweet with you…”

…            …            …

                Other than their serious conversation about starting a relationship, they haven’t had any deep and meaningful conversations. Yet. Until yesterday afternoon when he’d picked Leo up from Maria’s and then… found himself dating the guy. They’ve spent four nights out of five together, nearly every meal, and he’s well aware that he’s pretty much living with Leo in his not-so-little rental accommodation for the duration of his stay. He likes that it’s a neutral space for the time being, which has been good. Especially as he doesn’t exactly have a place of his own, his bedroom in Nicola’s apartment not exactly the most useful of places when he wants to hook up with someone, mainly because the apartment also usually contains Nicola herself.

                But if he’s going to date Leo, try having a relationship with distance between them, then he wants to share his little piece of home in his sister’s apartment. Show Leo the farm properly, because he’d actually seemed pretty interested in that yesterday when he’d mentioned it. He already knows that Leo’s parents are a minefield, but he’s going to ask because he’s going to gut himself in return. He knows he’s going to have to share bits that don’t make him happy, if they’re going to actually going to make a serious go of this. But he’s going to start small.

                “So, want to tell me about why you have a giant fuck off rooster tattooed on your leg?”

                “You don’t want to make a couple of guesses first?” Leo asks, rolling in the bed and giving Jake a mischievous grin and eyebrow waggle. God the man is a giant dork.

                “Because you’re a cock?” Jake asks, trying to make his expression sweet.

                “Close…”

                “Well, you’re not doing any false advertising.”

                “It’s my family name.”

                Jake frowns, because okay, he knows Leo’s name is Bradley Bradshaw, but he answers to Leo just as easily, which he knows is short for Leonardo…

                “My Italian family name. It’s Gallo, which means… well, direct translation is rooster.”

                “And a non-direct translation?” Jake asks. Leo grins again, looking smug.

                “Strong voice… good in bed…”

                “Oh, so you are a cock.”

                “I did say you were close.”

…            …            …

                He has to leave Leo in bed, which sucks for so many reasons but Leo looks fucked out and happy, already half-asleep and Jake presses a kiss to his bare shoulder.

                “I’ll be back in a few hours. In time for lunch. Let me know if there’s anything you need from the farm or grocery store…”

                He gets a muffled grunt for his trouble and Leo just shoves his head further into the pillow. Jake grins and heads for the door. He should be gone for about four hours to help his sisters on the farm. They have workers, but there’s always more work to be done and while many of them have other jobs they’re all still local and he gets to leave for months on end, and not have to deal with the realities of… home. He still needs to talk to Leo about that. Try and have a conversation that doesn’t lead to them immediately fucking. It’s a tall order. Maybe that’s where the distance might be a good thing.

                He pulls his truck into the yard and looks around at the assembled vehicles and rolls his eyes. Fucking great. They’re all here, the Seresin-sister grapevine clearly working as intended. God, he hopes Leo was serious about not getting scared off easy. He’s never introduced someone to his sisters before. Not someone that he’s actually serious about, and for all the shaking up that Leo has done in the last week it’s like a snow globe slowly settling and revealing the scene. He likes the view so far.

                He sits in his truck and drums his fingers against the steering wheel, wonders if he should maybe just start it again and drive away. He wouldn’t put it past them to drive after him, although Sandra and Amanda probably have their kids with them, so they might not chase after him. He sucks in a breath and throws his shoulders back. He can do this. His sisters love him and it’s just going to be embarrassing and maybe he can get the worst of it out of the way now and tomorrow night, when they actually meet Leo, they’ll manage to not humiliate him.

                He won’t hold his breath.

SIXTEEN