#Under The Paris Sky
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ao3feed-larry · 2 years ago
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Under The Paris Sky
by BoosBabycakes
Louis is a fashion influencer on his first trip to Paris. He is excited to discover the city and take pictures and videos of his wonderful outfits, and he expects to be amazed by the City Of Lights. What he doesn't expect, is to bump into a gorgeous man who could possibly change all his plans.
Words: 7411, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Fandoms: One Direction (Band)
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Categories: M/M
Characters: Harry Styles, Louis Tomlinson, Original Female Character(s)
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Additional Tags: Strangers to Lovers, Fluff, No Angst, Meet-Cute, Paris (City), Influencer Louis Tomlinson, Photographer Harry Styles, No Smut, Ficlet
via AO3 works tagged 'Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson' https://ift.tt/fo4LBwx
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russo-woso · 2 months ago
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Celebrating || Alessia Russo
Masterlist | Prompt list
Request balcony sex during away game
Warning smut 18+, dom!lessi, fingering, cunnilingus, strap
Summary You and Alessia find a way of celebrating after winning.
The lionesses had just one 2-0 over France in Paris.
It had been a perfect match, England having been the dominant side the whole game and it showed at the final scoreline.
Both Alesia and you had scored, both of you having assisted each other’s goals too.
When the group talk was over, you immediately searched the pitch for alessia, quickly setting eyes on her and jumping on her back.
“Hi, baby!” You exclaimed, pressing a kiss just under her ear.
“Hi, love. You played so well today.” Alessia said, hoisting you further onto her back and walking the pitch with you on her back.
“So did you, lessi.” You whispered, burying your face in her neck.
“Changing rooms?” Alessia asked, stroking your inner thighs as she held you up.
Alessia was a touchy person, you always knew that, but you knew the different type of touches.
And them touches were ones that told you that tonight would be a long night.
“We’ve got such a good view, don’t we?”You questioned alessia who laid on the bed.
You were on the balcony at the hotel staring out at the Eiffel Tower which was lit up.
“I’ve got a better view.” Alessia said. You could hear the smirk in her voice.
“Yeah? And what’s that?”
Alessia got up and walked towards you, grabbing your hips and leaning in so you could feel her hot breath on your face.
“You.” She whispered
“I don’t believe you.” You replied, a smile now on your face too.
“Want me to show you? I can show the whole of Paris how pretty you are too.” Alessia murmured, reaching for the bottom of your oversized shirt, which was the only piece of clothing you were wearing along with your bra, and pulling it over your head.
“You’ve planned this out, haven’t you? I bet you’re been wearing the—” before you could even finish your sentence, alessia grabbed your hand and rested on the strap she was wearing.
“It’s been on my mind since we got back to the hotel.”
“You dirty girl.” You whispered in her ear
You moved your head so you were looking her in the eyes.
Her natural ocean blue eyes had turned dark like the night sky.
“What are you thinking?” You asked her, pressing a kiss to her nose.
“You want to know what I’m thinking?” She questioned as you nodded. “I want you leaned over the railing, me fucking the life out of you as you scream my name for the whole of Paris to hear.”
You looked at her with wide eyes, her sudden burst of confidence shocking you.
“Okay.” You replied, a lingering smirk on your face.
“Okay?” Alessia asked, her turn to be shocked by you saying yes.
“Sure, baby.” You pressed your lips to her cheek, before pulling her shirt over her head.
“Fuck, can I take your bra off?” She asked, reaching for the back after you nodded.
She attached her mouth to your right nipple, sucking and biting at it.
You hummed in contentment, playing with the baby hairs on her neck.
“Feels so good, lessi.”
“You’re so perfect.” Alessia mumbled against your left nipple, sucking harshly, definitely leaving a mark. “Over the railing now.”
You obliged, leaning over and spreading your legs.
“Fuck, so so perfect.” Alessia muttered, falling to her knees as she flattened her tongue against your pussy.
Your knees almost buckled at the contact, her name falling from your lips effortlessly.
She lapped at your folds, before sucking at your clit.
You rested a hand over your mouth, trying your hardest not to moan.
“Let them hear you, baby. Want everyone to know you’re mine.” Alessia said, pulling your hand away from your mouth.
You let out a moan that was almost pornographic as alessia stuck her middle finger into your pussy.
“Yes! Fuck, less.” You moaned, grabbing at her hair.
Her fingers continued to thrust in and out of you whilst her tongue flicked at your clit.
“Oh god — yes, less — fuck!” Your legs spasmed around her head as you came with a cry.
“Stay there, baby.” Alessia said, pulling down her trousers to reveal the strap.
Your mouth watered at the sight, desperate to feel her in you.
“Are you okay?” Alessia asked, pulling a strand of your hair behind your ear.
“Perfect.”
“Ready?”
“Ready.” You confirmed, nodding your head as she lined the tip up with your pussy.
Slowly and gently, she pushed the strap into you.
You grabbed the railing as she bottomed out, the feeling overwhelming your body.
“Such a good girl taking my dick.” Alessia purred, thrusting in and out gently before speeding up her pace.
The moans escaping your mouth were pornographic, being thrown out for the whole of Paris to hear.
You gripped the railing harder, supporting yourself up due to your legs feeling weak and shaky.
Alessia leaned forward, pressing kisses to your back as her hand found your clit.
You hissed when her fingers circled your clit, the overstimulation from when she ate you out still there.
“Doing such a good job for me, pretty girl.” Alessia told you, rubbing your back.
She pounded into you harder than ever, your legs starting to shake.
“Fuck! Less, right there! Fuck I’m gonna cum!” You screamed, your legs liked jelly.
“Cum for me, baby. Cum on my dick.”
You let go, coming around alessia with a cry.
She rubbed your back through it, gently thrusting in and out.
“Did so so good.” Alessia whispered, placing a kiss on your cheek.
“I know you’re both like horny teenage boys, but please can you give it a rest. Some of us are trying to sleep.” Leah shouted from the balcony below you.
You and alessia looked at each other, embarrassed.
“Shit.”
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anakinstwinklebunny · 3 months ago
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hiii
so idk if your requests are open but could you please write some hcs about clayton Beresford as a husband and dad
Thank youuu ❤️
☆*: .。. o(≧▽≦)o .。.:*☆
HUSBAND/DAD!CLAY HEADCANONS
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TW: at some point it contains filthy, crazy sexual content, so if you're sensitive to that or don't feel comfortable with it, please do not read it for your own safety and comfort.
Author's note: of course my requests are open! I just LOVE seeing notification from my inbox, so thank you very much <3 hope you like it
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MARRIAGE
Clayton Beresford who after two delightful years of your relationship proposed to you. He took you to the fancy restaurant, and since it was something you did often, you hadn't have any suspicious. But have you thought about marrying him? Of course, yet, you wanted to give him time. You knew how his earlier marriage ended so it'd be out of your character to even suggest him taking your relationship to another level. But the ring you got was out of your wildest dreams - 4 carat round cut diamond ring that seemed to shine more than every star in the sky
Clayton Beresford who got even more all-about-you after wedding. Even more love making with no care in the world, long honeymoon, even more spent time together just more everything
Clayton Beresford who, despite his demanding job, always makes time for you. He’s the type of husband who will surprise you with small gestures; like leaving sweet notes in your purse or sending you flowers (mostly to your workplace) randomly just to remind you that he’s thinking of you.
Clayton Beresford who loves planning spontaneous weekend trips to your favorite places. Whether it’s a cozy cabin in the mountains or a luxury hotel in the city, Clayton enjoys these escapes to focus solely on you without any distractions.
Clayton Beresford who's big on surprises. He might book a last-minute trip to Paris (or any place on earth), arrange for a private dinner on the rooftop of the restaurant's building or just in the place you'd not be able to pay by yourself. Or buy you that piece of jewelry you casually mentioned months ago.
Clayton Beresford who has a strong protective instinct. He always ensures you’re safe, and anyone who might pose a threat to you or your happiness would have to face his wrath.
Clayton Beresford who depended on you doing the grocery shopping since he had never done that before (however after a few times he gained knowledge);
Clay glanced away for just a second, but when he looked back, you were gone. His brow furrowed as he scanned the immediate area, stepping away from the cart to see if you had wandered behind another display. But there was no sign of you.
��Dammit,” he muttered under his breath, frustration creeping in as he quickened his pace, determined not to lose you. Not in this place.
He began weaving through the aisles, his eyes darting around in search of you, listening intently for any sound that might be your voice. But the supermarket was huge, and the weekend crowd made it even more overwhelming.
With a groan of annoyance, Clay pressed on, moving faster now, his heart racing a little at the thought of losing you in this sea of people. Then, suddenly, his eyes caught a glimpse of you between rushing people. A glimmer of hope flickered in his chest as he turned sharply toward the sound.
You were standing by the dairy section, casually chatting on the phone as you picked up items. Relief washed over him, and he silently thanked whatever forces led him to find you.
Like a lost puppy or a child who had been separated from their parent, he hurried over to you, his earlier frustration melting into a quiet sense of relief.
Reaching for a carton of milk, you sensed someone close behind you. Turning around, you found Clay standing there, his expression a mix of worry and boyish vulnerability that made you smile. It was as if he had been a little kid lost in a big mall again.
You handed him the shopping list, tapping the line where it said 'bananas' with a knowing look.
Clay accepted the list with a determined nod. He was a grown man—he could handle picking up some bananas.
But when he reached the produce section, his confidence wavered as he stared at the six different types of bananas on display, his frown deepening in confusion.
It was supposed to be a simple task: grab the bananas and return to you. Yet here he was, staring at the display like they were some exotic species he had never encountered.
He didn't recognize any of the types, and he had no clue which one you wanted. So, with a loosing sigh, he carefully picked a bunch of yellow bananas, added some mini ones, and then tossed in a few green ones for good measure. Feeling a bit more confident, he placed them all in the cart and made his way back to you. A small, proud smirk forming on his lips as he approached.
“I got them,” he announced, a hint of pride in his voice as if he had just completed a great feat.
You glanced down at the cart, noticing the remarkable assortment. A smile tugged at your lips as you looked back at him. "Baby, but... they're all different kinds."
His smirk faded slightly as a flush of embarrassment crept up his neck. He glanced at the cart, then back at you “I know,” he admitted, his voice soft and a bit self-conscious. “I wasn’t sure which ones you wanted, so I just… grabbed a few to be safe.”
Your heart melted at his effort, and you stood on your toes to press a tender kiss to his cheek. "C'mon, we'll figure out these bananas together."
His cheeks flushed a deeper red at your affectionate gesture, and he looked down at you with warm, loving eyes, a shy smile curving his lips.
“Okay,” he murmured, feeling content as he started pushing the cart again, this time with you walking beside him.
PREGNANCY
Clayton Beresford who was shocked yet thrilled when he found out you're pregnant. He was always gentle with you but from that day he got on another level of doing everything in his power to make sure you're safe, happy and comfortable
Clayton Beresford who seemed to be hypnotized by your changing body (so obviously loved to have his hands on it, and you loved when he did)
Clayton Beresford who had to deal with your neediness for attention/affection;
"Baby, I'm already late. You know I can't stay longer," he sighs, slipping on his black cloak, the fabric rustling as he moves with familiar urgency.
"Are you sure you can't stay just a little longer?" you pout, leaning against the doorframe of your mudroom
He chuckles softly and walks over to you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist to pull you close to his chest "Baby, I'd love nothing more than to stay," he murmurs "But…" he sighs again, the weight of responsibility heavy in his voice, "you know I can't be late twice in a row."
He presses a lingering kiss to your forehead, his muscles firm against your softer frame. The warmth of his embrace makes you want to hold onto him just a little longer.
"But I thought you'd make love to me all morning," you tease, your voice soft and playful "and then spoil me with a big breakfast."
His eyes softened after his large hands roam over to cup your pregnant belly, his fingers gently tracing over the curve "That was the original plan," his lips formed into a knowing smirk. His hands linger on your body, as if memorizing every inch before he has to let go. "But you know I've got to go to work…"
"But what if the baby comes out while you're not here?" you pout, feeling the warmth of his knuckles as they gently trace over your swollen belly.
He chuckles softly at your worry, his lips curling into a reassuring smile. He steps back slightly, his hands slipping from your waist to admire the sight of your pregnant form. "Babe, we've talked about this. The baby's not coming today," he says with a confident grin, glancing down at your round belly before meeting your concerned gaze.
"Yeah... right," you mumble, still not entirely convinced.
He can't help but smirk at how endearingly moody you are, especially when you pout like that. With a gentle touch, he wraps his fingers around your chin, tilting your face up so you're looking directly into his smiling eyes. "Don't give me that look," he murmurs softly, his voice filled with warmth as he leans in closer, his breath brushing against your lips.
"I'm gonna miss you," you whisper, your voice barely audible as the reality of his departure sinks in.
His gaze locks onto your big, sparkling eyes as he gently cups your cheeks. "I'm going to miss you too, baby. But I have to go to work," he murmurs with a tender smile, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips once more.
"I love you, you know," your voice lingering, trying to stretch out the moment just a little longer.
His smile deepens, touched by your efforts to keep him close, but he's all too aware of the ticking clock. "I love you too, more than anything. But if I don't leave now, I'll be late for a meeting with the board... and I can't afford to do that again," his tone a mix of regret and urgency as he gives you a sympathetic look, hoping you understand.
"But you're their boss," you protest softly, a pout forming on your lips.
He sighs, knowing that leaving without giving you something special will likely leave you moody for the rest of the day. Even though he’s pressed for time, he quickly pivots. "How about I give you a kiss for the road?" he suggests, a playful glint in his eyes as he shifts the mood.
"Okay," you reply, a small smile tugging at your lips.
He smiles back, his hand finding its way to your cheek once more, tenderly cradling your face. He pauses, taking a moment to get lost in your sparkling blue eyes, savoring the connection before slowly closing his own and leaning in. His lips meet yours in a slow, loving kiss
Clayton Beresford who makes sure to lift up your pregnancy mood;
His heart sank at the sight of your tear-streaked face. Instantly, worry fills his eyes and he kneels beside you, his voice soft and full of concern. "Baby, what’s wrong?" He gently tilts your chin up with his fingers, urging you to meet his gaze.
"I feel so huge..." you murmur, your voice trembling with emotion.
"Baby, you know I love every part of you. Nothing could ever change that," he says tenderly, his words full of sincerity.
But your insecurities linger, and you turn to him, searching his face. "So you think I’m huge?" you ask, misinterpreting his silence as agreement.
He sighs again, feeling a pang of guilt at how vulnerable you are right now. Quickly, he tries to soothe your worries before they spiral. "No, no, love..." he insists, cupping your face with both hands, his thumbs brushing away the traces of your tears. "You’re not huge, you’re beautiful."
You glance down at your growing belly, frustration evident in your voice. "I barely fit into my pants."
He smiles softly, his gaze never leaving yours, understanding the deep-seated concerns you have about your changing body. "I know, sweetheart, I know," he murmurs, his thumb gently stroking your cheek. "But that’s just because of the incredible little life you’re carrying."
"You look absolutely radiant when you’re pregnant," he adds, his words filled with admiration, careful not to say anything that might upset you further.
"Yeah?" you sniffle, your voice small and uncertain.
He nods slowly, his eyes locked onto yours, full of love and reassurance. "Yeah, baby," he repeats softly. "You’re glowing, and you’re absolutely, stunningly beautiful. Anyone would be lucky to have you, pregnant or not."
"But what if after I push the baby out, I still look pregnant? And... and I have all these marks, and my body doesn’t go back to the way it was? And you'll leave me?"
His heart aches as he listens to your fears, unable to bear hearing you doubt the body he cherishes so deeply. "No, no, no, shhh, baby, no..." he murmurs urgently, his voice soothing as he tries to calm your spiraling thoughts. "I would never, ever leave you for that. My love for you knows no limits, nothing could change that."
His hands continue to tenderly stroke your face, his touch gentle and reassuring as he speaks. "I love you so much, sweetheart. The marks on your body from carrying our beautiful child—they'll only make me love you and your body even more."
"Yeah?" you sniffle, looking at him with tear-filled eyes.
his eyes filled with admiration and love as he nods "Yeah, baby. Because those marks are proof of your incredible strength, of the life you’ve nurtured for nine months.. and only an absolute goddess could manage that"
Clayton Beresford who every day remaided you how beautiful you are, what a treasure you are in his life that nothing could replace
Clayton Beresford who got more cuddly with you;
"Look at that… he’s a little boxer" his lips curved up as he felt the baby’s tiny movements beneath his fingertips. His voice was filled with awe, and there was a boyish excitement in his eyes that made you smile.
"He?" you asked, raising an eyebrow as you glanced up from your book. "How do you know it’s a boy?"
He shrugged, but the cheeky grin that spread across his features betrayed the certainty in his heart. He leaned closer, letting his chin rest on your bump. His touch was gentle, almost tingly at times while his long fingers made sure to memorize the path over your swollen skin
"Father’s instincts," he whispered
"Oh? Didn’t know you had those," you chuckled, your fingers threading through his tousled curls. There was something endearing about how intensely focused he was on your belly - his brow furrowed in concentration as he searched for more signs of the baby’s movements.
Clay still kept his, this time less wider, smile over his lips. He seemed to calm down under not only your touch but the feeling of your belly with his child right in his reach and right before his eyes. He shifted slightly, pressing his lips gently against your tummy. His lips lingered for a little longer, his expression changing to more surprised;
"Hush," he murmured softly, his hand stilling when he found the spot where the baby seemed to be resting. "I can sense him…"
Yet, the baby had quieted, and clay's lips formed into a pout. The frustration knitting his brows before he nuzzled to your belly "Can’t you encourage him to kick or something? I want to know that he’s alive…" he mumbled, his voice laced with a mix of concern and childish impatience (that you rarely saw before)
You couldn’t help but laugh softly at his earnestness. "Clay, how am I supposed to encourage him? Maybe he’s sleeping."
He groaned softly, looking up at you with those soulful eyes, making it impossible not to find him utterly endearing. He looked like a grumpy child who hadn’t received the attention he thought he deserved and it was both cute and hilarious
"Well, I don’t know," he muttered, his hand still drawing small circles on your belly. "Talk to him? Tell him how cool I am… maybe he’ll be excited then and want to say hi."
You rolled your eyes playfully, still stroking his curls. "Baby, don’t be ridiculous… he's probably sleeping."
He huffed in response, still pouting but clearly knowing you were right. The baby was just asleep, and there was nothing he could do but wait. Still, the idea of his child not acknowledging his presence seemed to tug at something deep within him.
"I just want him to know that I’m here too," he mumbled
You smiled down at him, your voice soothing as you reassured him. "I bet he does, clay."
"Just imagine how cute he’s gonna be," clay mused, his voice softening as he let himself drift into the fantasy of fatherhood. "A baby version of me, running around, being a menace to everyone…"
You smirked, raising an eyebrow. "What if it’s a girl?"
His hand paused for a moment, the weight of the thought catching him off guard. For a few seconds, his expression was blank as he processed the idea of having a daughter. Then, slowly, his usual cocky grin reappeared, but with a touch of tenderness that hadn’t been there before.
"A baby girl," he echoed, as if trying out the words. "She could get your looks, though. I wouldn’t mind that. The second most beautiful girl in the world… and daddy’s little princess."
Just then, he felt a light flutter beneath his palm. His eyes widened in surprise, lighting up like a child on Christmas morning, the pout completely erased by a wide grin "There you are…"
The baby seemed to respond to his voice, shifting slightly as if acknowledging his father’s presence. He continued to rub gently over your belly, his touch loving and protective, showering the area with soft kisses.
"Already responding to me," he whispered, a wave of satisfaction washing over him as he felt the tiny movements beneath his hands. "Smart baby…"
clayton continued to soothe your belly, his hands and lips moving in a calming rhythm until the baby settled back into stillness. Even as the baby quieted, he wasn’t ready to let go. He lingered, enjoying the feeling of being close to both of you, his heart full and content.
"Guess he’s asleep again…" he said softly, a hint of disappointment in his voice.
"Or maybe he’s just tired of you," you teased lightly, brushing a strand of hair away from his face.
His eyes widened in mock offense, his pout returning as he looked up at you, clearly not appreciating the joke. "Very funny," he grumbled, his frown deepening. "I am the most interesting person this baby will ever meet—"
But despite his grumbling, you could see the love and excitement in his eyes, the way he couldn’t wait to meet the little life growing inside you. And you knew, without a doubt, that he would be the best father this baby could ever ask for.
Clayton Beresford who spoiled you way more during your pregnancy. More presents without occasion, more affection, more cuddles, just more everything there was to give
Clayton Beresford who was there on most of your doctor appointments. If he had a busy schedule, which happened often, he then couldn't appear (but you didn't mind, since it was just doctor appointment to check on your and the child's health, nothing more so much important for him to be there everytime)
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Clayton Beresford who was obsessed with making love to you during your pregnancy;
"youre-youre so big--" you mewl underneath him
"I am, aren't I?" he panted, his hands gripping your plump hips tightly. "And you're so fucking tight, sweetheart." His words spurred him on, pushing deeper inside you to hit that sweet spot over and over again.
your eyes barely could keep themselves open from the sensation of having him again in your hole. Who would have known that your pregnancy hormones would make you so horny you would cry to Clayton about it. And him, being such a generous gentleman who loved his wife with all his being, how could just leave you like that? When you sobbed, begged for his touch
"Don't close your eyes," he commanded softly "Open them. Let me see the look on your face when I'm inside you."
your eyes reluctantly opened, at least they lingered between half opened and half closed. A moan rumbled through your throat as you took in the sight of his muscles that ripped whenever his hold grew too much
"That's it," he panted, his eyes locked onto yours. "Let me hear you." Clayton's breath hitched as he felt her body tremble beneath him. The way you moaned and your completely swollen breasts jingled with each thrust was driving him wild. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum," he warned you, picking up the pace even more.
PARENTHOOD
Clayton Beresford who was there for you for the whole childbirth. Encouraging you, giving you support, etc. He'd insist you'd hold the baby first, not him. And before he'd even hold the newborn, he'd make sure you're all safe and everything's okay;
After making sure you held the newborn first and you were all okay, he had time to take the baby close to his chest, his large, strong arms cradling the fragile newborn bundle with a tenderness that belied his powerful frame. The baby’s skin was a delicate shade of pink, still wrinkled from the birth, and Clay couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming surge of emotion as he gazed down at the tiny life nestled against him. The baby was so small, so impossibly vulnerable, and it made something deep within him tremble and break.
Tears welled up in his eyes, blurring his vision as he gently stroked the baby’s cheek with a trembling hand. His touch was feather-light, his fingertips barely brushing the baby’s soft, downy skin and his hand looked enormous in comparison to the baby’s minuscule features.
“He’s so small…” he whispered, his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions. His throat tightened as he tried to hold back the tears threatening to spill over.
“Are you crying?” you asked softly, a tired smile playing on your lips as you rested after the long and exhausting delivery
He glanced up at you and he felt a single tear escape and trail down his cheek “…No—yes… maybe…” he admitted, a sheepish smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He quickly wiped the tear away with the back of his hand, but it was clear that his composure was unraveling. He returned his gaze to the baby in his arms, his expression softening as he ran a gentle finger over the baby’s tiny hand, marveling at how delicate and perfect it was.
When the newborn's hand wrapped around clay's finger, he felt like his new heart might explode from overwhelming feeling. It was so cute, the baby’s grip firm and warm
“He’s holding my finger…” he murmured, his voice filled with pure, unfiltered awe
The baby continued to cling to his finger, his tiny hand gripping the large digit with a determination that was both heartwarming and humbling. Clay smiled through tears and a mixture of pride and amazement shined in his eyes as he gently caressed the baby’s hand, utterly mesmerized by the strength in such a small being.
“Such a tight grip… I’ve already created a little warrior,” he mused with a soft chuckle, his voice laced with pride. He looked down at his son, his heart brimming with a love so profound it was almost overwhelming. “You’re going to be strong, just like your momma” he added, his tone filled with admiration.
“…You have your momma’s eyes, you know?” he whispered, his voice barely audible as a fresh wave of emotion washed over him. There was a hint of pride in his voice, but also something deeper, something reverent. The sight of those eyes, so familiar and yet so new, made him feel as though he was looking at a piece of you—a part of the woman he loved more than anything in the galaxy.
As if sensing the weight of the moment, the baby cooed softly, his tiny body wriggling uncomfortably against the confines of the blanket. You watched the first interaction between your husband and your child and it was the most endearing thing you experience. Delivery was hard, damn it hurt like hell, as if devil himself teared your insides but as soon as the baby was out, all the pain was forgotten
“You don’t like that, huh?” he murmured, his voice filled with amusement as he gently traced soothing circles over the baby’s cheek “I don’t blame you… I’d hate being swaddled too.”
Clayton Beresford who is the kind of dad who’s always one step ahead when it comes to the safety and well-being of your children. He’s vigilant about who they spend time with and ensures they grow up in the safest environment possible.
Clayton Beresford who, despite his often serious demeanor, has a major soft spot when it comes to his children. He’s not afraid to get down on the floor and play with them, and he’ll often indulge them in things other might not—like staying up a bit past bedtime for just one more story.
Clayton Beresford who enjoys spoiling his kids, whether it’s with the latest toys, gadgets, or extravagant birthday parties. However, he’s careful to balance this with teaching them the importance of gratitude and not taking things for granted.
Clayton Beresford who, if you have a daughter, is wrapped around her little finger. He’s the type of dad who will attend tea parties, help with ballet practice, and learn how to braid hair just to make her happy;
"Hold on, baby, I'm almost finished," he murmured, his voice a soft yet deep rumble as he focused on working his fingers through the strands of your daughter's hair.
"Maybe we should just ask Mommy," she whispered, her small voice carrying a hint of doubt.
"No, no," he shook his head gently, a determined glint in his eye. "We don’t need Mommy for a braid. Daddy can do it just fine."
Clay's fingers moved clumsily but with care, tugging her hair a bit too tightly at times. His brows furrowed in concentration as he carefully looped the strands together.
"But Mommy always likes to help," she insisted, her tone hopeful.
"Daddy likes to help too," he replied, his voice tender but resolute, wanting to prove himself to his little girl.
He paused for a moment, examining his work with a critical eye. The braid was far from perfect—slightly uneven and a little messy, held together by a hairband that seemed to be doing more of the work than the braid itself. But as he looked at it, a small, proud smile tugged at the corners of his lips.
"See? Not so bad, huh?"
Clayton Beresford who is big on teaching his children responsibility from a young age.
Clayton Beresford who made sure to pay attention to your kids after he came back from work. Even if he was extremely tired, he'd rather fall asleep with your baby boy in his arms than leaving you alone to deal with the children
Clayton Beresford who found you as his inspiration. You, with kids most of the time, still having energy to take care of him and the house. So, as soon as he changed his clothes after work, he replaced you in duties so you'd have your alone time.
Clayton Beresford who, if you had a son, played all the games the boy wanted. Like toys where the boy came up with some plot, plastic cars, playgrounds outside;
Clay sat on the floor, carefully stacking blocks into a tall tower while his son sat comfortably on his lap, his tiny hands occasionally reaching out to help—or hinder.
"What do you want to eat?" you asked softly from the kitchen doorway, watching the two with a fond smile.
Clay glanced up at you, a playful gleam in his eye. "You?" he teased, genuinely curious about your preference.
But before he could say more, the boy clumsily knocked over the tower with an excited shove, sending the blocks tumbling in all directions.
“Hey! You just destroyed Daddy’s masterpiece,” Clay said in mock offense, though his voice carried a warm, playful tone. He looked down at him, who was dissolving into giggles, his face scrunched up in pure joy.
"Well, I was thinking pasta... I'm really craving it," you said, your giggles mingling with theirs.
Clay's heart swelled as he watched you enjoy the moment just as much as he was. Turning back to the toddler, he gently poked his son’s side, earning more bubbly laughter from the little boy. “We don’t normally allow such behavior in the tower-building world,” he joked, his tone still light before turning his gaze to you "But pasta sounds good tho.."
With a grin, Clay stood up from the carpeted floor, scooping the boy up by his armpits and swinging him side to side, much to the toddler’s delight. "C'mon, you little silly guy, let's go help Mommy with dinner,"
Clayton Beresford who, no matter what interests or hobbies your kids have, is fully supportive. He’ll invest in lessons, equipment, or anything else they need to pursue their passions, always encouraging them to follow their dreams.
Clayton Beresford who, no matter how busy his life gets, always prioritizes family. He ensures that you and the kids know that you’re his number one priority, making time for family dinners, vacations, and just spending quality time together.
Clayton Beresford who propritazed your time together. His kids were important but you were more important. So, regularly he hired a babysitter (a trusted one), and took you out on dates (or on a vacation but then your parents took care of the children) so you could focus on each other and on the bond you share without screaming kids
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Clayton Beresford ho didn't mind making you pregnant again (if you even wanted to be pregnant again);
"Fill this beautiful cunt with my seed once more?" He growled, plunging back into you with a single powerful thrust that made you both cry out in pleasure "you want that love? Be pregnant again?"
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TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @ysrjune (sad about her not being her anymore..) @divineani @erosmutt @haydensprettyprincess @mistress-amidala @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy @anisluvrgirl @fuckmyskywalker @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex
(if you want to be removed or added then don't be shy and let me know 💋)
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byuntrash101 · 2 years ago
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first flight to hongkong
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sub!reader x dom!ot8ateez (yes, of all of them. yes, all at the same time)
smut | nsfw | mdni
18.3k (so much filth and im not even sorry)
yes, you're suprised when your company offers you a vacant spot in the vip crew. but "surprised" doesn't cut it when you discover what kind of service your company provides the vips
nsfw tags under the cut
this tag list is looong so grab a seat sweetie...idol!au, a tad of plot, ateez’ love language is gift giving (yes it’s relevant), kink negotiation, color system safe words, flight attendant & sex worker!reader, dom!ateez (some are gentle, some are meanies depends on the member. hwa is both lol) gangbang, sir kink, impact play (spanking, kitty & face slapping), pain play, nipple play, use of toys, unprotected but safe sex (birth control + tested) (we love to see it), fingering (f), squirting, dacryphilia, orgasm control (f), overstim, slight corruption kink (they enjoy ruining you idk if it counts), very light foot fetish (yunho (pun intended) who this is about), marking, oral (f & m), deepthroat, praising, degradation (slut, whore), pet names (princess, sweetheart, baby, good girl, doll, kitten, each of them kinda uses the pet name they like), anal, double penetration, mingi is big, yunho is bigger, so much praising, lowkey voyeurism/exhibitiosnim, brief mxm (woo jerks off san. ofc it had to be woosan), facial, manhandling, !!!!optional!!!! watersports (this post is the no watersports version. if u want the kinky version click here ♡).
DISCLAIMER: PLEASE MAKE SURE TO READ THE TAGS AND TO CLICK OFF IF ANYTHING SEEMS LIKE SOMETHING YOU WOULDN'T ENJOY.
a/n: this is an idol!au and it's taking place right after the break the wall show in paris. so hongjoong isn't blueberry yet (he's blonde) and mingi is pinkgi because i wanted him to be (even though the pink had faded completely by then). that being said im super duper excited to finally publish this. it's been such a journey for me please overlook any typos or mistakes and i really wanted every single member to get the spotlight and that's how you end up with 18k... but i garantee whoever your bias you'll see him in this. i hope you enjoy <3
ateez masterlist | navigation
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You check yourself one last time in the bathroom mirror of your Parisian hotel room. Normally your employer always booked you the smallest, cheapest hotels. But this time you have a beautiful room with a magnificent view on the busy Parisian and picturesque streets. You can even see the Eiffel Tower pierce the sky in the horizon line. 
You sigh as you look at your untouched croissant and coffee, they turned cold a long time ago. You lay a hand on your knotted stomach, you are not hungry. You are stressed. Actually, no. Stressed is an understatement. You are a nervous wreck. 
You fight the urge to bring your fingers to your mouth to bite your perfectly manicured nails, that were painted with a light coat of pinkish nude nail polish and instead tuck in a loose strand of hair back in your impeccably sleek low bun. The last touch up to make the rest of the look absolutely perfect. 
To go along with nude nails, you have light makeup focusing mainly on skin. High end foundation giving you the airbrush look paired with a peachy blush that complimented your skin tone nicely. Some very subtle contouring on your cheeks and jawline and highlighting on the bridge of the nose and above the cheekbones. And to finish it off mascara that elegantly elongated your lashes and underlined your gaze.
Before you slipped on the navy blue uniform over the beautiful white lace Balmain lingerie set. You sprayed a light touch of Banglore by Carven on to your chest, wrists, behind both ears and a touch on the crown of your head. The scent was very unique unlike any women's perfume you tried before. It was a contrasted scent of sandalwood and amber with a touch of vanilla that lingered to soothe the warm spices. It was balanced and elegant.
Regarding the lingerie, the luxurious white set fit you so well that it looked sewed onto your skin. The bra lifted your breasts and the panties sat very high on your waistline making your bottom rounder. 
You slipped on the light blue blouse and the navy skirt under a fitted blazer that matched the skirt. You also wore white thigh high tights. Yves Saint Laurent sleek black stiletto pumps. The shoes gave an elegant arch to your feet which was worth the discomfort. And last but not least the signature flight attendant beret, that had your company’s logo embroidered onto the side that read “Air France”.
You added to the look a very fine and discreet 24k gold chain around your neck and tahitian pearl earrings. 
And that was the completed look. At least this part of the request you could fulfill.
Because, yes, every single detail about your look today was requested and revised by your client. The jewelry, the lingerie, the perfume, the make up, the nails, the shoes. Everything was hand picked by him for you. 
It was your very first time attending the VIPs. Never in a million years you thought you would get there in your career but the rumor was that when the client was handed out the photos of the VIP attendants he requested to have the info of all the attendants the company employed and out if the hundreds of women he saw he picked you. So how could you not be stressed? This man (that was probably very influential) had set the bar really high and you on the other hand didn't have any past experiences to even wrap your mind around what was "setting the bar high" in this context. You were a total noob and you felt (you were) under prepared to cater the very specific needs of the VIPs. 
But after all, the company only offered the position to you. They never forced your hand. You could have said no. But the compensation that came with it was alluring to say the least. That added to the luxurious setting of it all. Getting to mingle with the rich and famous… even in that way… it tipped the balance towards the yes, to the detriment of your morals. But maybe you should have said no…
In the taxi from the hotel to the airport you couldn't enjoy the beautiful scenery of the maze of narrow and paved streets. You were too busy fidgeting with your perfectly manicured hands and trying vainly to swallow the lump inside your throat. 
You thanked the taxi driver and walked mechanically to the terminal, slaloming between the businessmen in between two flights and the lost tourists absentmindedly walking with their noses up and squinted eyes looking for directions.
When your feet hit the tarmacked runway making your heels click against it, you finally saw the aircraft away. It was unlike anything you worked with before. You were used to the huge boeings with the multiple rows and the numerous portholes but this one was a jet. The nose of the plane was narrow and contoured, the body of it was smaller but you could already tell from a distance, far more lavish.
You took a couple of deep breaths on the windy departure runaway to try to calm down. As you were climbing the steps that led to the jet you felt like your knees were about to give out. Thankfully your legs successfully carried you all the way to the clean and luxurious habitacle. 
Talking of luxury, you had never seen such a display of wealth before. Each individual booth was lined with immaculate white leather and stuffed with soft and cushiony material. You could only imagine how comfortable the seat was. Every single detail was impeccable. 
In front of the seat there was a bench where the attendants were meant to sit to wait for the customer requests.
"Hi" The pilot standing in the cockpit greets you. The sudden sound makes you jump. You muster a timid “hey” as a response. 
"Are you ready for the big leap?" He asks, wearing a warm, reassuring smile. 
"No, but I don't think I have enough time in this life to ever prepare for this so..." your words trail off into an awkward laugh. The pilot gently pats your shoulder. 
"Don't worry kiddo if there's anything wrong we're right here." 
"Thanks" 
"The info sheet is over there" he pointed at the small  closed off space, reserved for the attendants right between the VIP seating area and the cockpit. 
"Ready for the checklist, captain?" You heard the voice of the co-pilot ask from the cockpit.
"You'll be alright" he gave you a last confident nod before closing the door. 
And you find yourself completely alone. The space suddenly feels huge. You feel like you will never be able to fill it on your own. Maybe you bit off more than you could chew by accepting this? 
You shake your head to chase the doubts away. You should at least check the info sheet before panicking, you figure. 
You extend your hand to take the note sitting on a small counter next to a locker and a bench. 
On the paper you find your name, your company registration number and your photo. So far so good but it's nothing new. 
You read various info about the flight. Departure: Paris Charles de Gaulle. Arrival: International Airport of Hong Kong. The model of the jet and other details about the time of take off and landing. Still. There's not a single new piece of information to be found.
Then finally you reach the critical part. 
Client name : Ateez. 
You cock one eyebrow in surprise. That's an unusual name for a person. But somehow it sounds familiar…
There’s more information under “safe practices”: the client marked his wish for the service to be performed without physical barriers. All parties involved have been tested. 
You knew that too after the long hours you spent at the hospital yesterday. But the client paid extra just to be able to not use a condom. Fortunately you were already on birth control.
When your eyes glaze over the next title your heart loops inside your chest.
Service request. 
Under this you find a very detailed box list of various practices and... preferences. Many of which you'd have to Google to understand. Ranging from foot fetish to dacryphilia (one of those you had to look up). You didn't even know so many kinks even existed. But as much as you squint none of the boxes were checked. The list is entirely blank except for a hand written comment under "other". 
“To be discussed with the hostess.”
The hostess... that's you. 
The cryptic comment makes you somehow even more nervous. There's not a single piece of useful information on this whole entire form! The experience is already nerve wracking and the fact that the company is letting you figure this one out on your own is making matters much worse. You can’t prepare yourself without any information! 
Well… there’s the name at least, you reasoned with your irrational self. You scramble for your phone from your small purse and type the name in the url bar. 
You should have known not having to type the complete name for it to appear in the research suggestions was a bad sign. 
Thousands of found pages popped up on the small screen. The first one you open is your most reliable source: Wikipedia. 
Ateez (Korean: 에이티즈) is a South Korean boy band formed by KQ Entertainment. The group consists of eight members: Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Yunho, Yeosang, San, Mingi, Wooyoung and Jongho. They debuted on October 24, 2018, with the extended play (EP) Treasure EP.1: All to Zero.
Wait… eight members...... your client is a GROUP of eight men?!?!?!? You click on the royalty free picture provided by the website. Somehow the 8 faces look familiar though you are sure you didn't know about them before today. 
Your heart sinks to the pit of your stomach. Your vision starts to get blurry as panic wins over you. Infecting your body via the poisonous adrenaline the frantic organ pumps into each of your limbs. You stumble to sit on the small bench.
You knew the said client was filthy rich. Only the 1% can afford to request such a service from your company but you expected a politician or a silicon valley CEO... not actual celebrities. The kind that sells out arenas and stadiums, the kind that you see on billboards and that make the front pages of magazines.
Then the realization hits you like a train. You did see them before! You attended their flight from Copenhagen to Paris a couple of days ago. That also coincides with when the company proposed this promotion to you... You remember now but they wore masks you didn't get to see their faces properly and the company flies tons of influential people all year round. To you they were just the first class passengers and you took care of them like you would have with any other client. Yes they looked famous but you just didn't check... 
Now there was a difference between bringing them coffee and a hot towel and doing... whatever they were expecting you to do... which you still didn't have the slightest clue about. 
Now you are sure. You did bit off more than you could chew. 
You want to call off the deal. You should just call HR and just tell them to get somebody else on this one. Yes! Yes! You'll do that. There are plenty of other attendants that'd kill to be here so they'll find someone else no problem. 
Right as your thumb is hovering over the number of the HR department you hear rumbles and voices in the tunnel linking the terminal and the aircraft...
Looks like it's too late. 
You act in sole instinct and get up hurriedly, flatten your skirt and head with big strides to stand at the entrance of the plane like you would with any other flight. 
It's okay y/n. You'll be okay. You're always okay. This is just another flight. You've got this. 
You repeat those words in your head like a mantra. The silent prayer calms you down. You pull on your skirt and readjust your blazer, put on your best smile before you see the first shoe peeking up from the elbow of the tube. Followed by a colony of others. Sixteen to be exact, sixteen individual shoes. Yes... Eight. Eight men. 
It's game time. 
One by one the group boards the plane. You professionally greet all of them like you have with any client before. Politely smiling and bowing your head like you did thousands of times. All of them return the polite bow and despite their disguises you see some of them crease their eyes, letting you guess the smile curling up their lips under the masks, the beanies and the bucket hats concealing their faces. 
See? So far so good. You got this. One baby step at a time. 
Over the next few minutes you are able to calm down. You feel completely in control. You install the clients one by one in the separate and spacious seats. You make the final check of the luggage above the seats. Close up all the lockers and check that every passenger has fastened their seat belts correctly. You explain the safety procedures in case of an emergency. Then finally sit in your own seat, the little bench facing the VIPs while the pilot makes his announcement. When the plane accelerates to take off you are back into normality. Your heart has stopped racing and your hands are not clammy or shaking anymore. You no longer feel the need to nervously pull on your nails. 
You are in control. You got this. 
When the “seatbelts on” sign turns off you get up. 
"You may now unfasten your seatbelts if you please." You announced for all of them. And they all did. You saw them taking their jackets and beanies off, getting comfortable as you disappeared in the attending compartment to prepare the refreshments. When you pulled out the small tray they were all seated and had shed the clothes that were hiding their faces.
With each stop you make to pour the beverages you are astonished by their beauty, each member being more beautiful than the last one. You felt your heart flutter more than once when some of them thanked you for your service with a warm smile.
But as everyone is served with either a cool refreshing soda or a warm cup of coffee you can't stall any longer. You have to address the elephant in the room. You can do it as you would discuss any other subject, you tell yourself as a small pep talk. Just have to stay professional. 
You seat yourself in front of all of them and grab on a clipboard, a piece of paper and a bullpen. You cross your legs sideways, your skirt ever so slightly curling up your thighs, just enough to hint away at the white lace of your thigh high tights. Instantly their chatter dies down and you find yourself under the scrutinizing gaze of the eight men. 
"Now for the VIP service.” You speak as confidently as you can. “The form stipulated that the preferences were to be discussed with the hostess. Is there any particular request you'd like to make? Any preference you'd like to share?" 
"I think it would be more efficient to know what is off limits." The blonde one spoke. From what you saw online. That was the leader of the group, Hongjoong. 
You stayed completely silent, dumbfounded by the sudden change of dynamic. The client is supposed to state what they require from you and you are supposed to do everything in your power to fulfill their wish. 
"What are the no go's for you, sweetheart?" another one questioned when you failed to provide an answer in a normal, reasonable time frame. That one looked carved in marble, he had delicate features that looked hand crafted to perfection, beautiful long raven black hair resting on his shoulders which you could guess were muscular even under the thick black hoodie he was wearing. 
The pet name somehow made your toes tingle, sparking nervousness in your stomach again. 
"I don't know, the usual" you replied and immediately followed by an awkward laugh. Hongjoong smiled at you, Maybe picking up on the agitation showing through your micro habits. 
"What about submissive/dominant dynamics?" The blonde man kindly asked, giving you a clue on how to answer. "Would you be fine submitting to us?" 
At the question the tingles in your toes rose in your legs. To properly answer the question you had to imagine yourself kneeling before the eight men and the thought alone made you guts stir in something that wasn't just stress. You swiped your tongue on your lower lip in an attempt to pull you out of your thoughts. 
"Yes, that would be fine" you replied as plainly as possible. You spotted one of them smirk from the corner of your eyes. That one was also particularly handsome. He had sharp cat-like eyes that were piercing holes in you. The smirk grew bigger when you made eye contact with him as he was rubbing his chin with his index finger that was decorated by a simple elegant gold ring. 
"What about impact and pain play?" Another one asked. This one looked the tallest among all of them, even with all of them seated you could tell by how his legs bent, his knees sitting higher than the others. His face looked the softest among all of them so much so that it was hard to believe he could ask such a question with this benevolent expression on his face. 
"'Like spanking?" You manage to ask without squeaking or stuttering. Which was a miracle in itself.
"Yes, like spanking, slapping, pinching, hair pulling... All that good stuff." The tall one continues. 
"What do you say, doll? Would you like us to hurt you?" Hongjoong adds. 
You bite your bottom lip as you feel your insides quiver. Only managing to give a shy nod to the question. 
"Use your words, princess" another one intervened. This one seemed to be more mature than the others, he also had dark hair, long parted bangs tickling his lashes, very high cheekbones and a smile that could light up the darkest night, he gave off that aura of a shining star.
"Y-yes" 
So much for not stuttering... 
A murmur of approval collectively emerged from them. 
"And degradation and humiliation?" A deep voice asked, you looked over at the direction of the owner of said voice to find a pastel pink haired man looking right at you. He had sharp features, piercing eyes and a strong brow bone. When you looked at him puzzled he elaborated. "Let's say I want to call you my little slut, my personal little cock sleeve. Or make you bark before I let you cum. How would that sound to you?" 
You gulped as your mind instantly took you to the scenery. Your imagination sending you flashing images of sinful engagements between you and the group of men. Your guts stirred once again. You nodded and threw a glance at the previous man before quickly adding a shy yes (but still audible). Once again they emitted a quiet rumble of appreciation. 
You couldn't believe all the things that you were agreeing to. Sure you had some experience in sub and dom dynamics. Usually you liked to be guided and you let your partner take the lead. And of course you had a couple of light spanks before but that was about it. And the most surprising thing for you was that all of that sounded exciting. Everything sounded appealing to you. Everytime they asked you a question it stirred your stomach in a brand new way. 
"What about knife play?" Hongjoong asked. 
"No, I don't think I'd be comfortable with that one." You replied, almost apologetically. 
"Same for blood play?" He continued and you shook your head. 
"Yes, I don't think I'd enjoy that." 
"Spit play?" You shook your head again. 
"Well I think we covered everything. Guys?" They all agreed with their leader. "Also I see you got the little gifts we got for you" Hongjoong’s gaze slides down your frame to land on the white lace of the thigh high tights that was peeking under your skirt. The way his expression changed when he spotted the article made you swallow thickly. 
"I picked the lingerie set. White is your color, doll" 
You chuckled lightly at the compliment, feeling your cheeks heat up.
"Thank you" you smiled. 
"Yunho, what do you think of the heels?" He asked, turning over to the tall man. 
"Fit you like a glove. You look stunning in those” Yunho replied, giving you a warm smile. The comment made you nervously dangle your feet, which made his eyes instantly drop back to them.
"Wooyoung and Yeosang both decided on the nail color and the make up" both of them nodded in your direction at the mention of their names. 
"This red lip is beautiful on you" Wooyoung complimented while Yeosang stayed silent, only amicably smiling at you. 
"The jewelry is from Mingi" Hongjoong continued as the pink haired man raised his large palm up in the air. 
"The gray pearls really suit your skin tone and the gold chain compliments your neck line. I knew it was the right choice" Mingi's deep voice answered. 
"And Seonghwa is our perfume connoisseur" Hongjoong pointed at the man seated next to him. 
"The fragrance was an easy pick. Elegant and sophisticated, exactly like you" the astonishingly beautiful man shot a wink in your direction. Such a simple gesture, but the effect it had on you was completely uncalled for.
"San and Jongho came on the flight with their gifts." The man named San lifted a luxurious looking glossed paper bag. 
You got up straightened your skirt and retrieved it from him then Jongho seated next to him handed you a small case. 
"We’re going to give you time to open those too" Hongjoong said. "This flight is long. We'll have plenty of time to play together. In the meantime, we are going to get some sleep and rest from our tour. Our CEO thought we did so well at our show in Paris he personally booked this service with your company." 
"Thank you for trusting and choosing Air France" you bowed your head respectfully. 
"Oh no, doll. It's not about them it’s about you, y/n" your heart almost stopped at the mention of your name. "'When you attended our flight from Denmark to France you were absolutely perfect and we all collectively thought you would be the best candidate for the extra VIP service. So we were a little disappointed when the company said you weren't part of the VIP crew. But we insisted they at least ask you if that would be interesting for you and we were thrilled to know that you agreed." Hongjoong smiled at you so fondly. Almost like the previous conversation never happened altogether and the VIP service was nothing more than some extra room for your legs in the seat and maybe a wider range of refined liquor to choose from. 
"So we understand it's your first time doing this, right?" San asked. 
"Y-yes." You stuttered. "Yes it is" you said a lot more confidently this time. 
"Don't worry it's also our first time" the man grinned, cat-like eyes turning into little crescents as the smile spread on his face. 
"That's exactly why I'll be conducting the meeting" Hongjoong declared, making you peel your eyes off San to look at him. "From now on, you will refer to me only as sir. I know it won't be a problem to you as you used the title a couple of times in the conversation already. But still, do you understand me?" Last sentence was a lot more stern. 
"Yes, sir" you nodded firmly to emphasize your words, making him grin.
“The others are not as strict on the title. You may call them however you’d like. But I only tolerate that you refer to me correctly. Understood?”
“Yes, sir”
"Good girl" he smiled again but this time it was somehow not as wholesome and you took in a slow shaky breath to attempt to calm your heart that was hammering against your ribs. 
"During the rendezvous I'll be checking on you to see if everything is good with you. We'll use the color system." You nodded, listening attentively. "If everything is going well and you are enjoying your time with us when I ask you for your color you will say green." You nodded again. "If things are getting intense and you are approaching your limit you will say orange. At the word we won't stop but we will take it down a notch allowing you to breathe until your color is back on green and you feel comfortable again. If you are overwhelmed or if one of us does or says anything that makes you want to stop everything just say red and we will all stop. Right, doll?" 
"Yes sir" 
"I want you to know that you have full control over this. Under no circumstances you have to wait for me to ask for your color to share it with us. As soon as you feel that things are getting out of hand, say orange or red, okay ?" 
"Understood, sir" 
"Well then. Why don't you take this time to go open San and Jongho's presents while we take a little well deserved nap" 
"Yes, sir" you politely bowed and took your leave in the small reserved space for the attendants between the cabin and the cockpit. 
As soon as you close the door you let the stress of the conversation out with a deep sigh, pressing your back against the door and letting your head rest on it, the cold feeling on your heated skin keeping you in touch with reality as everything seemed so surreal. 
That was a lot to take in but somehow you didn't feel as nervous as you did before. Sure, there are eight of them. Sure, the conversation promised they intended to thoroughly... enjoy... the service but you feel like they value your safety and your comfort. You have a better understanding of the task at hand and no matter how complex and draining said task was going to be, knowing the boundaries of it was reassuring. You knew what they wanted from you. 
After a couple of minutes you used to ground yourself back down to earth (ironic isn't it?) You laid the paper bag and the case on the small bench. 
You undid the nice black velvet bow that was tying the bag together and took out what looked like a neatly folded uniform. But upon closer examination something looked off with the fabric. You unfolded the blouse. It was an exact replica of the light blue one you were wearing right now except it was made from fine mesh making it completely see through. You laid the article on the bench and unfolded the skirt. The length was ridiculously short and you know you'll have to walk up straight if you don't want your bum to be showing. But you guess it's the exact purpose of it. When you flip it too look at the back you know for a fact that the skirt was designed with the idea of exposing you in mind. You realized the navy blue cotton has two holes cut out to let both of your butt cheeks hang out of them. 
You lay the shirt next to the blouse. Deciding that this gift is a little intense and you'll get back to that one. 
You hand glazes over the case Jongho brought and you flip the attachments to open it. When you lift the lid you are greeted with a collection of different toys. All more colorful than the previous one. There's everything you could imagine. And more that you would actually need. You find a note that read “wear me” taped to a strangely shaped one. 
You grab the purple silicon toy and unfold the note. 
A remote control had been handed to each member. Please wear this one. For the other ones they're all yours pick the ones you like. 
You are hesitant for a second but this was exactly what you signed up for and it was our duty to fulfill the client’s wish. So you breathed in a deep slow and steady breath before carefully  slipping off your clothes. You were vigilant enough not to smudge your makeup and pull the wispy hair out of your sleek bun. You pull down the white thong just low enough on your thighs to be able to put the toy in. 
You almost gasp when you spot the wet patch on the lace, making the fabric slightly transparent. It's subtle but you can't believe you got this… excited from this simple conversation. Simply imagining the propositions they were presenting to you. 
You push the cylindrical part of the toy inside, biting your lip to repress a moan as the silicon easily glides inside you. The rest of the toy hangs out and lays over your clit. You swiftly pull the thong back up. At first you feel strange from this foreign object nested inside you but soon you grow accustomed to it. 
From the rest of the panoply of toys you picked out a simple decently sized metal plug that had a heart shaped pink gem stone at the end. You figured the rest of the ensemble will certainly look gaudy enough and you chose to disregard the various gag balls and nipple clamps. 
You put on the new uniform even going as far as to pin your name tag to the see through blouse. 
And the look is complete. The skirt is so small that it barely reaches the crease of your bum. Not that it makes a difference since the two holes leave little to the imagination. The lace of the thigh high tights are on full display and the same applies to the white lace bra underneath the see-through blouse. 
Saying you feel exposed is an understatement but still. You were almost at the two hour mark on this flight. You figure that the easiest way to deal with the embarrassment is to just plainly and simply ignore it. Go out there and work just as usual. And it's time to prepare the tray of refreshments. 
You step out of the attendant room to walk the central aisle to the back of the jet where the fridges and the carts are. You can't help but to feel a little relieved when you see the eight men wearing their eye masks. Maybe they aren't all sleeping but they are at least not seeing you like this, at least not right now. It buys you some time to get used to your new attire.
You prepare the various alcoholic beverages, the cold sodas and the hot tea and coffee before you take a deep breath. And push the cart in. There's only one member that the rattling of the cart seemed to have woken up, Seonghwa. 
With trembling hands you push the cart down the aisle to his level. 
"Can I get you anything to drink? Water, coffee, liquor?" You manage to ask in the most natural way possible. Careful to speak at an appropriate volume level to not disturb the others. 
"Coffee. Black, please" the handsome man replies. 
You take a cup and pour some scolding hot coffee for him. Your tensed hands around the cup betray your edge as you hand out the beverage, the dark liquid swaying in its recipient. But Seonghwa gently wraps both his warm hands around yours and around the cup. 
"Thank you. It's perfect" he gently whispers, looking at you with a reassuring, beaming smile that you return instantly. 
You push the tray back in, as it seems no one else is interested in a drink. When you go back to your seat that faces the members the help indicator lights up above one of the seats. 
"Sir, may I help you with anything." You asked San. 
"No" he whispered, careful not to wake up Jongho  sleeping between both of you since he was in the window seat. "I just wanted to say you look absolutely stunning. You wear the uniform beautifully" he held out something to you. When you opened your palm it was two shriveled bills of five hundred euros. You almost audibly gasped. Before you could say thank you he continued "I can't wait to peel it off of you later". You feel your knees getting weaker as San’s gaze gets sharper. You don't know how you manage to keep your composer as well as you do.
"Of course. Whenever you are ready, sir" you replied, as you felt your insides flutter under his scrutinizing gaze.
"Let's let them sleep a little first, kitten" you bit your lip at the pet name and you smiled back at him before going back to your seat to catch a breather. 
For the next two hours. The flight is absolutely uneventful and feels like any other day on the job. You even have enough time to forget about the skimpy (to say the least) skirt, the see through blouse and the lace. And even about the toy still inside you. 
You go back and forth between the aisles fetching drinks, small pillows and snacks fulfilling one typical and ordinary request after the other. This feels so routinely that you find yourself feeling a little... disappointed. 
What you didn't notice is how one by one the members emerged from their slumbers. You didn't notice that as the number of requests increased their usefulness decreased as their main purpose was to watch you walk up and down the aisle to see your breasts jiggle under the see-through blouse or your ass roll in the conveniently placed holes of your skirt.
And as you were closing the compartment above Jongho’s head, you lifted both of your arms up which caused your skirt to rile up your hips. Letting the lacey underwear peep from underneath it. That’s when Jongho spotted the purple color seeping through the white of the lace. That encouraged him to take out his remote.
The vibrations took you by surprise and you let one small quiet moan slip off your tongue. Immediately pressing your traitorous lips into a thin line. You crease your brows trying to reach the handle to finally close the compartment, trying not to focus on the low vibrations coming from the deepest part of you. 
Jongho can't help but to smirk when he hears the low rumble coming from the toy that is only inches from his face. 
You stagger back to your seat only for the help light to go off again. This time you walk over to Wooyoung. 
"Yes" you take a shaky breath. "May I….ngh…help you with anything?" 
"Yes, my armrest appears to be stuck. I can't seem to pull it down" he says, smirking. 
"There's a small lever on your right you have to pull it to be able to push the armrest down" 
"I tried but I can't make it work. Could you give it a try?" 
There was no way you could reach that far unless you laid over Yeosang's lap to reach Wooyoung’s window seat. One second look at the former and you realized that was exactly what they wanted. So you crouched down and laid on him, your stomach down. Your butt was on his lap while your face was on Wooyoung's thighs. You extended your hand and finally were able to push on the lever but suddenly the vibrations got more intense. You tensed up your back trying not to moan at the new pleasure you felt. 
But you still managed to push on the armrest down. 
"There you go, sir" you replied out of breath. 
"Thank you, baby" Wooyoung said as he pressed his hardening member to your cheek through his trousers, gently caressing the other with his thumb all the while you felt a pair of hands putting to good use the two holes in your skirt. Groping and cupping your ass cheeks. 
You let yourself whine ever so slightly when you spot the purple remote in the large hands of Mingi seated right up front, peeping back at you through the slit between the seats. 
You feel a new vibration coming. This time the setting is changed from the low tiniest vibrations to two short low ones and one long strong one. You can't help but to moan when you see Mingi picking this deadly pace while he smirks back at you through the slit. You feel the familiar build up in your core as Wooyoung rubs himself through his pants on your cheek and Yeosang grabs and massages your ass cheeks. 
You feel your walls dangerously constrict the toy inside you, your flirting with your edge but then the vibrations come to a stop. 
Wooyoung and Yeosang offer a helping hand to get you back on your feet and innocently smile at you. 
"That will be all, thank you, sweetheart" the latter says. Before you nod and go to another customer needing your help: Hongjoong. 
"Sir, may I help you?" 
"What's your color, doll?" The blonde man instantly asks. Still a little dazed you are taken aback by the question. 
"Green, sir" you say as you brought back some loose hair from the bum that was a little roughed up by Wooyoung moments ago. 
"Good" you spot the purple devices in his hand as he switches the toy on once more. At first it’s the same setting Jongho used. The lowest one. This one you could handle but soon Hongjoong’s slender fingers turned the roulette all the way up. 
The feeling is brand new because the source of the pleasure is doubled when you find out the toy can vibrate from two seperate places. You can't help but let out a strangled squeal. The intense setting of the toy instantly skyrockets you to unknown heights. 
"You look unwell, doll. Is everything okay?" Hongjoong asks with a sly smirk pulling at his lips. 
You nod. Heat rushing to your chest and neck. Insufferable pleasure making you weak at the knees. 
"Everything is perfect... mmmh... sir" you manage to say through gritted teeth. You realize the hungry gazes of the group of men are glued to you. Somehow the attention makes the pleasure even more unbearable and you feel like you're going to lose control at any second now. 
Your hands wrap around the headrest of Hongjoong’s seat in an attempt to ground yourself as you feel you are slowly slipping into the abyss. Your heat uncontrollably pulsing around the devilish toy. 
But as soon as you let out a moan that proves to be a little too high pitched. A pitch that betrays your imminent high. Hongjoong's eyes turn into a sadistic glacial gaze and he switches off the device completely. You can't help but to voice out your disappointment with an unpleased whine as you feel yourself pulse into the most infuriating and frustrating ruined orgasm. You look over the blonde man in confusion. 
"Why did you stop, sir?" You ask out of breath, strained voice seeped with desperation.
"Because you were being a bad girl, doll and bad girls don't get rewards." His voice was so stern you couldn't believe he was the same man making sure you were comfortable a second ago. 
"What did I do wrong?" The question sounded a little whiny as your eyes swept over the other men all looking at you with an evil twinkle in the eye. 
Your lost puppy eyes and the sad and desperate little pout made Hongjoong grow bigger in his pants as he was gaining this control over you. He had to fight the urge to immediately palm himself through his pants.
"Were you not about to cum without asking permission first?" you could hear the slightest hint of amusement behind the graveness of his tone.
"I didn't know I h-" 
"Talking back, are we?" You bit your lip, immediately interrupting yourself and looking down at your feet. “I thought you had better manners” Hongjoong said, fainting the disappointment of a strict father.
"I'm sorry, sir" 
"Sorry won't do it with me, doll. Doesn't she deserve punishment. Guys what do you say?" 
All of them nodded and agreed as you let the corner of your mouth fall, heart racing at the mention of the ominous word… Punishment.
"San" 
As soon as the leader called his name San got up and joined you in front of the group. He stepped behind you. 
"Now you'll stay completely still as San performs the punishment. Is this clear?" 
"Crystal clear, sir" you stiffened when you felt the strong hands of the man wrapping around your waist and reach over your stomach. You hold your breath as his fingers busy themselves with your blouse. Unfastening the buttons one by one. He peels the fabric off slowly as you take the sanction as obediently as possible. 
“I’ve been wanting to do that ever since I laid eyes on you back in Copenhagen'' he whispers quietly, only for you to hear. His warm breath on your skin makes you shiver.
Then he moves to the zipper at the back of the short skirt. The vibration of the zip on your skin makes you shudder as the group of men relishes in seeing you so helpless. 
Soon you are left in only the heels and lingerie set. 
"You did so good baby" the man murmurs before laying a gentle kiss on the shell of your ear. 
"On your knees" Hongjoong says and you hastily obliged before he thinks you are being dissident again.
"Now say I'm sorry for being a selfish little slut obsessed with my own pleasure.”
The humiliation and shame makes your cheeks burning hot but still you comply. 
"I-I'm sorry for being a selfish little slut obsessed with my own pleasure.. Sir” you add for good measure.
“Now you’ll crawl to each of us and ask for a spanking. I think 8 spanks is a good start. Right gentlemen?” Once again they collectively agreed.
For a second shame paralyzes you.
“Go ahead, doll. Ask Seonghwa first” you look up at the man.
“Please, sir” you try to swallow a lump.
“Louder, princess” Seonghwa says, taking your chin between his slender fingers, smiling fondly down at his cute little toy.
“P-please Sir” you say louder this time. “Please punish me”
“Of course my princess” he replies in this tender tone. A tone that contrasts with the sharp sound of his palm falling flat on your bottom. You let a small cry slip out your lips as heat rushes to the sensitive patch of skin.
“What do you say, doll?” the blonde man chips in.
“T-Thank you Sir”
You crawled past Hongjoong to Mingi and Yunho’s row.
“Sir please, may I ask you for a spank” you asked Mingi.
The sting that followed had you throwing your head back and suppressing a moan by biting the inside of your cheek. Mingi’s hand was larger and a lot less gentle.
“Thank you” you hiss.
You continue the round, going to one member after the other until both your cheeks feel raw and several hand prints are left visible. You finish with Hongjoong.
“Please Sir, please spank me” you say out of breath, your hazy mind having difficulty putting the words in coherent sentences.
“Color, doll” he says as his hands slips over the sensitive skin, soothing you with gentle caresses.
“Green, sir”
All of a sudden you feel the vibrations deep inside your core again. You can’t help but let out a pleased moan escape your lips. Arching your back letting your head hang down. 
“Oh my g-god” you sigh before biting down on your lip. Hongjoong’s gentle hand wraps around your chin to lift your gaze to his own. His eyes are as dark as can be, an evil grin pulling on his lips.
“You were saying, doll?” he asks with his other hands still drawing soothing circles on your raw ass. “You wanted something from me?” he says, giving you a light squeeze.
You look around and see the other 7 pairs of eyes glued to you. And the sustained gazes and the vibrations send you to flirt with your edge almost instantly. 
“Don’t forget why you’re here, princess” Seonghwa warns you. “You can’t cum before given permission or I fear we will have to do all of that all over again”
“Except I won’t be as nice this time” Hongjoong adds, the gentle hold on your chin becoming a little tighter, blunt nails digging in your cheek. “Ask for your punishment like a good girl and I'll turn it off”
“Please. Please sir! Please spank me”
“Good girl” he says before lifting his palm and letting it fall back against your already sensitive skin. The sharp clap that erupts from the motion sends a spark of electricity straight to your core, lifting goosebumps in its wake.
The pleasurable pain and the tireless vibrations almost had you cumming but with immense resilience and respect for the orders you were given you manage to hold yourself back. 
“Such a good little toy for us, kitten” you hear San praise as the vibrations die down.
When you look back up at Hongjoong you look absolutely fucked out. He smiles at you and rubs soothing circles on your cheek. He can’t help but to feel himself twitch as he sees you look back at him this confused and frustrated. 
“You did really good, doll” Hongjoongs praises “You may rise”
You get up again to walk to the bench. You plop yourself on top of it, barely able to hold yourself on the stiletto heels but at least it’s a relief for your knees.
Suddenly you feel warm and gentle hands wrap around your waist and hoist you up on their lap, when you open your eyes you see it’s Seonghwa.
“You did really good, princess” Seonghwa says as you feel his fingers slip up your back and unclasping your white lace bra. In a split second the lace is off your blazing skin, you feel the air brush against your chest as the other men drink in your form, all eyes roaming this new part of your body revealed to their eyes. You whine softly as you fight the urge to cover yourself, turning your head to the side and closing your eyes just to avoid eye contact with them.
One of Seonghwa’s hands slips over your breasts, massaging the lumps of flesh and teasing your painfully hard nipples while the other one slips around your waist, down your stomach and inside the lace panties. 
You audibly gasp when you feel the toy being pulled out of you, whining at the loss of the fullness of it. You hear the toy bounce off the carpeted floor. 
“You won’t need this anymore now, princess” Seonghwa whispers in your ear before pinching your nipple a little harder. “We’ll take care of you now” You arch your back onto his torso. Immediately he starts rubbing small circles on your swollen clit. You can’t help but moan at the smallest of contact.
“You got so wet for us baby” Yeosang comments, making your eyes snap to him.
“And so sensitive” Jongho adds.
You feel Seonghwa smirk against your ear. Continuing the small and light circles on your clit. Soon you lose patience and start to buck your hips, desperate for friction, desperate for him to apply some pressure. 
“Do you want my fingers, Princess?” Seonghwa asks before planting an open mouth kiss on your neck.
“Yesss, Sir. Yes please” you breathe out, bucking your hips against his hand again. Which makes the older man chuckle against your skin.
“Take these off then, princess” He says, catching the white lace of your thong and letting it slap against your skin. Hurriedly you briefly lift your butt to shimmy out of the lace and let the fabric rest on one of your ankles. When you sit back down you feel your raw ass rub against Seonghwa’s clothed hard on, earning a low grunt from him.
“Spread your legs, Princess” Seonghwa says as he lightly caresses your thigh. 
The whole room held their breath, all of them waiting to finally see you in the simplest of forms, eagerly waiting to open Pandora's box. 
Gathering your courage you did so, very slowly you parted your thighs, feeling the cold air hit your swollen and sopping heat as you completely unveiled yourself for your clients. You spotted from the corner of your eyes Jongho starting to palm himself through his trousers.
“Fuck she’s so wet too” you guessed the deep voice to be the one of Mingi.
“So naughty” Yunho added.
“Good girl '' Seonghwa praised again when you couldn't possibly open your legs wider. He immediately slipped his ring and middle finger inside your heat, the slow and gentle stretch of your sex made you mewl pathetically, jaw falling loose as he curled his fingers right into your sweet spot.
“Oh my g-” the words get caught in your throat when Seonghwa picks up the pace. 
“You’re sucking in his fingers so well, kitten” San commented while he pressed his open hand on his length.
Your moans gradually grow louder and the wet squelching sounds of your dripping center bounce on the walls, Seonghwa composing a sinful symphony on your body. Pumping his fingers inside and out your heat then gliding up your folds to find your clit and dipping back in again.
As time goes by and as you inch closer to your edge you feel no intention in Seonghwa to stop. You know this time you won’t be able to hold back and after being so close so many times to your high. You just want to finally grasp it. You’re so close you can taste it. You just don’t want it to have it snatched away from you again.
“Seonghwa… Please” you breath out, cheeks flushed, nails digging into your palm.
“Please what?” Seonghwa asks, sounding as innocent as can be but the smirk you feel on the shell of your ear tells you the innocence as everything but genuine.
“Please… Aaaha. Can I c-cum?” you finally manage to ask.
“You wanna show everyone how you cum around my fingers?” The sinful choice of words makes your heart hammer against your ribs. But you would do anything for him to finally let you finish. 
“Yes” you breathe out, overlooking the shame, somehow managing to open your legs even wider, letting the plug peek from beneath you, the pink gem twinkling under the dim lighting, determined to let the others have a good look at you.
Your efforts are noticed. You hear a couple of them curse under their breaths while other finally slip their hands inside their pants. But most importantly your resilience makes Seonghwa agree to let you cum.
“Go ahead, Princess. Make a big mess on my fingers.”
You don't need more, you just let yourself slip as soon as you hear the magic words. Your mind slips into a haze as you throw your head back, letting it roll on Seonghwa’s shoulders. You clench around the man’s long fingers, cunt uncontrollably pulsing around him, refusing to ever let go of them. Your legs shaking as you let a long string of moans escape your lips.
The group of men admiring how your pussy opens and closes around their friend’s fingers, some grunting as they press a little harder on their painfully hard cocks. 
When Seonghwa rips his fingers out of your orgasming heat your cum just sprays out of your in streams, soaking the carpet beneath your feet. 
Finally as the stream dies down you’re able to come down from your high.
“Goog girl” Seonghwa praises as he brings his cum covered digits to your mouth. You immediately, out of instinct, your mind still in a complete haze, welcome the long fingers inside your mouth. Eagerly sucking and licking, your taste taking over your mouth and rolling on your tongue. 
Suddenly you feel another pair of hands on your thighs. When you look you see Yunho letting his big palms glide from your thighs to your calf and to your feet. He brings your foot to his face, one hand under your calf and the other wrapped around the heel while he kisses your ankles, going down on your feet, he slips his tongue out, licking the black leather of the pump. Before taking them off.
“How do you taste, princess?” Seonghwa asks when he sees you distracted by Yunho. 
“Delicious, sir” you replied, still not taking your eyes off the tall man kneeling between your legs.
“Let me have a taste.” Seonghwa says before crashing his lips on yours, you share your cum with him as he pushes his tongue past your lips, eager to discover your flavor. 
He breathes heavily as he keeps kissing you. You feel Yunho peel off one of the tights to give kitten licks to your toes. 
The novel feeling has you moaning into Seonghwa’s mouth. He sucks on your toes before trailing up your thigh. Leaving blue and purple marks as he progresses up until he reaches your pubic bone. He kisses you everywhere but where you want him the most. You whine into the older one's mouth. Until the taller man finally gives a kitten lick to your clit. You rip your mouth from Seonghwa to look at Yunho between your legs. He doesn't break eye contact as he starts to relish on your taste. Your eyebrows knit on your forehead as your jaw falls open.
“Fuckkk” you swear before sucking your lip between your teeth.
“You like that?” He asks, lips still pressed to your folds.
“Yess! Yesss” you say as you eagerly grind your hips on his tongue, earning a low groan from the man behind you as your ass rubbed on his harder than ever cock. The raging hard on threatening to rip through the pants at any moment.
“What a greedy little whore” Mingi says as he gets up to come closer to the scene. Soon all of them follow and you find yourself surrounded by all 8 men looking down at you, hands either under or over their pants, playing with their cocks as they didn’t peel their eyes off you for a second. 
Seeing all of them around you, their hungry gaze fixed on you makes you even more eager, and you find yourself grinding even faster on Yunho’s tongue, letting sighs and pleading cries roll off your tongue.
“You just came, doll” Hongjoong started. “And you’re already so eager to cum again?” his warm hand slipped between your breast to go up you throat, lightly squeezing, just enough to make it threatening, making your eyes snap to him. “You’re so naughty”.
While you were distracted by Hongjoong you didn't notice from the corner of your eye Wooyoung taking his pants off and pumping his length in his clenched fist. Swiping his tongue on his bottom lips watching you fuck yourself out on Yunho’s mouth while Seonghwa groaned behind you and bit your neck. 
It’s only when you felt the hot tip against your cheek that you turned your head to him. When you look up at him the devilish grin that he adorns makes your inside flutter, your eager cunt twitching on Yunho’s tongue.
“Open wide for me, baby, okay?” Wooyoung’s raspy voice asked as he laid his leaking tip right on your lips. As soon as the tip of your tongue makes contact with his slit you give it a kitten lick. The salty taste goes straight to your head and makes you dizzy. You open your mouth a little wider and Wooyoung slowly pushes his length inside you. You can’t help but to moan as you feel the smooth skin gliding so easily on your wet tongue. Letting your eyes roll back as you feel your lips stretch to accommodate this fullness in your mouth while Yunho slows down his rhythm, allowing you just enough lucidity to be able to concentrate on your new found mission. 
Wooyoung continues to progress until he bottoms out. And you hollow your cheeks to pull your head back on his length just to push back in. You start out slow, making sure to lube him up with your spit. And Wooyoung sighs at the pleasurable way your tongue swirls around his tip every time he hangs on your lips, letting his head roll back, thick veins ornamenting his neck.
As you pick up the pace you feel hands wrap around what was once your bun and push you back down further on Wooyoung’s cock.
“Come on, princess. You can do better than that” you hear Seonghwa purr in your ear. As Wooyoung groans, feeling you go deeper. “You can take him all in. Right Princess?” 
With each coming and going Seonghwa pushes on your head a little harder until, your nose hits Wooyoung’s pubic bone. Seonghwa keeps you right there for a moment as you look up at the younger man with teary eyes.
“Ever since I picked this red lipstick for you I've wanted to see it around my cock. You’re so pretty like this baby.” Wooyoung says as Seonghwa finally releases you, allowing you to pull back and breathe. You suck in a deep breath, fighting back a coughing fit.
“You’re doing so good, Princess. So good for us” Seonghwa praises, already pushing your head back on Wooyoung’s length. You open your mouth once again, pursing your lips, hollowing your cheeks. So good that soon enough Wooyoung lets his head roll back and let a long string of profanities fall from his lips.
“Fuck you’re so good at this, baby. Like you were made to suck cock” he praised, through gritted teeth. “Fuckkk” he cursed again and you felt his cock twitch on your tongue while he suddenly gripped your hair, stopping you from pushing him back inside your wet mouth. “Fuck” he breathes heavily. “I need a break.  Don’t want the fun to end now” he said, pulling his lips in a sinful smirk.
“I’ll take it from here” San said, pulling Wooyoung by the shoulder to take his place. When you are presented with San’s cock you can tell he has been playing with himself for a while, the tip is swollen, beet red and dripping. It is the most mouth watering sight you ever got the chance to witness. Instinctively you open wider and approach your lips but San pulls back before you can wrap your mouth around the alluring member.
“An eager little kitten, aren't we?” the man breathes out while he lazily pumps himself before your round out eyes. “You want my cock this bad ?” he smirks wickedly, looking down on you. You only nod, not peeling your eyes off San’s cock. “You have to properly ask for it before I give it to you” Your eyes snap back to his sharp ones. There’s not a trace of humor in his dark brown orbs, only dark lust burning holes into you.
“Please, sir. Fill my mouth with your cock” you whisper, your warm breath hitting San’s raw dick, making him suck in a breath. 
“Good little kitty” he praises while pressing his cock against your lips, which you part as soon as you feel the hot leaking tip against your mouth, immediately the taste going to your head. Slowly you glide on San’s length as his hands wrap around both your ears, pulling you even further on his cock, grunting all the way down until he reaches the bottom.
“Stay completely still, kitten” he whispers, the sultry tone making you shiver under his unwavering gaze. “Let me fuck that pretty little mouth”
Suddenly you gasp as you feel two long fingers being pushed inside your dripping heat, Yunho, tired of being ignored, wants to get your attention back. And the least you can say is that it’s effective. His digits curl inside you deliciously, able to reach deeper than Seonghwa.
San takes advantage of your sudden gasp to push his length deeper, picking up right where Wooyoung left off. You feel the delicious burn of your throat expanding to accommodate San’s girth. 
Yunho wraps his lips around your clit once more while San pleasures himself with your mouth, strong grip around your head, pulling your head in and pushing it back out again at a rapid pace. The pleasure makes you moan on San’s length, your eyes becoming watery. 
“You like that, babygirl?” you hear Yunho ask you from between your legs. You can’t possibly respond because San doesn't allow a single word to leave your mouth, only muffled sounds of approval.
“Good girl” Yunho praises before returning to tease you. His tongue twirls around your sensitive bundle of nerves occasionally sucking and flicking it with his tongue. 
“You like getting your little cunt stuffed while I fuck your face, kitten?” San asks, breath short, strong forearms contracting around your face. You only moan in approval, trying to nod your head which proves to be impossible due to San’s grip. Only the volume of the pitch of the moans you make, gives away at the state of urgency in which you find yourself.
“You wanna cum?” San asks, somehow grip growing stronger. You moan again, one single tear rolling down your cheek, dragging with it one streak of mascara. “Cum, kitten. Cum for Yunho with my dick down your throat” 
Once again the permission makes you let go of the knot in your guts, the pleasure spreads to you through your core pulsing under Yunho tongue and clenching on his long fingers, deliciously curled right into your sweet spot. Gradually San and Yunho slow down allowing you to ride off your high.
Before you even gather up your thought you feel Seonghwa turn your head to him one more time, slipping his long tongue inside your mouth, the only response your hazy mind can come up with is to moan into his mouth before you feel yourself being lifted up by a couple pair of strong arms, Seonghwa grunting under you.
“Princess, I need you right here” You hear the older man’s deep voice as his gaze points at his dick, now shed from its restraints, standing proud and tall. You step towards him and lift your leg to take him in but he stops you.
“No, princess. Other way around, I want the others to see the beautiful expressions you make with my cock deep inside you” he says as he lightly pushes on your hips, urging you to turn around. When you do and see the others you can’t help but to feel a new wave of arousal. 
You find yourself hovering over Seonghwa while you hold his length in your hand. The whole room seems to hold their breath as you align yourself with him, gathering your arousal, taking your time to spread it on the leaking tip.
“Look how wet you are” Jongho commented. “We haven't even started yet and you already made such a mess”
“S-sorry, sir” you muster and bite your lip immediately after, sinking your hips on Seonghwa as the others all look at the precise place your two bodies meet, fist pumping around the results of their own arousal.
“Fuckkkk” you hear Seonghwa curse in your ear. 
“Enjoying the eldest privilege, hyung?” you hear the low voice of Mingi ask as you can’t even bring yourself to open your eyes, your body automatically shutting down your other senses to focus solely on the delicious stretch of your walls around Seonghwa’s girth.
“I’m not the only one, am I Princess?” he asks short of breath, his hands tucking behind your ear one of many strands of hair that escaped your once sleek updo. When you fail to provide a satisfactory reply, Seonghwa’s hand drops down to your cunt. 
“Didn't I tell you to…” his hot breath fans your ear, you sigh and let your head fall back on his shoulder as you feel his hand touch you in the place you need him the most only to receive a sharp slap right on your very sensitive bud. The unexpected and acute pain stirs your gut in a brand new way, making you clench around Seonghwa, ripping a low moan from your lips.
“... use your words?” he asks, voice a lot sterner. 
“Yesss” you mewl. “Yesssss” you pant. “Yess, sir” not being able to tell if you crave another slap or if you had just gone completely mad.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” he asks again.
“”Yes, sir. I am”
“So naughty, doll” Hongjoong comments, stepping closer.
“Now princess, work for me a little, okay? Make me feel good.” The eldest places both his hands on your hips making you sink down until he reaches the deepest part of you as you moan, feeling him deliciously splitting you open. “Show them how good you are.”
You start to rise up again, Seonghwa’s hands still on your hips but not helping you in any way, letting you take control over this. Once his tip is barely hanging inside you, you sink down again, this time faster. His lubricated length slides inside you with ease. You moan without restraint at the way his length rubs on the toy in your ass, stirring it around and making the metal push on all the right places. You repeat the motion until you settle in a comfortable rhythm. 
As you behave according to Seonghwa’s order you can't help but let your half lidded gaze sweep the room. All these eyes on you make you clench again, urging you to bounce harder on Seonghwa’s girth. 
“Look at you, slutty tits bouncing for us.” Jongho comments again, making you bite your lip, shame bubbling with arousal in the pit of your stomach. But at the same time you can’t seem to stop your hips, irrepressibly pulled down and pushed back up again and again until Seonghwa feels you flutter around him.
“You like giving a good show. Right Princess?”
“Yess sir” you whine, eyes prickling with tears. 
“Aren’t you a pretty one, doll?” Hongjoong whispers, his voice barely covering your moans and whines, slipping his hands right between your breasts caressing with the tip of his finger your soft and dampened sweaty skin, trailing to cup your breast. Suddenly he pinches your nipples harden into buds, the dull pain makes you roll your head back, letting a throaty moan escape your lips.
“Doll, can’t you do anything with those pretty hands of yours?” Hongjoong asks, pinching ever so slightly harder. 
Before you can even reply anything, Yeosang and Yunho step to each side of you, wrapping your fingers around their two cocks. 
“That’s way better” Hongjoong compliments.
They start out by guiding you on their length until you continue on your own. 
“Fuck sweetheart” Yeosang starts. “Those pretty hands were made to pleasure cocks” he praises as he brings your face close to his length, pushing your cheeks onto his tip, spreading the pre cum on your hot face. 
“Such a good little girl for us” Yunho outbids the praise, pulling you close to also spread his essence on you. “Faster my baby” he exhales.
You oblige as you feel Seonghwa's hands on your hips urging you to go faster, his blunt nails digging into your sides. As you do so Seonghwa lightly scoots down on the bench, angling his cock in a brand new way. You can't help but to moan loudly at the way he’s now rubbing your sweet spot, each back and forth scrubbing against the toy in your ass and deliciously poking at the entrance of Eden's garden. 
“Such beautiful sounds” Seonghwa praises, licking around your ear, the wet sounds of his mouth making your guts slush around as your grip tightens around the two cocks in your hand, making the two men groan. 
You can’t help but to let your mind slip in delirium again, pleasure delightfully clouding your judgment.
“Sir please, can I cum?”
“Again?” Jongho scoffs. “You really can’t fucking wait can you?” the sharp glacial tone, contrast with the sadistic and amused smirk spreading on his lips. You whine in response, brows linking on your forehead, bouncing even harder as Hongjoong continues to tease your nipples, taunting the hard buds until they become so sensitive you could cum from the way he plays with them alone.
“I’m sorry I can't let you Princess” Seonghwa says, strong grip on your hips making you stop abruptly. Immediately your hungry little cunt starts to pulse around his length, yearning for more of the delectable friction as your ass clenches around the plug.
“Please, Please please” you start to plead. Lust speaking in your place, completely forgetting about everything else.
“You really have no shame” the younger comments again.
“No Princess. Seonghwa says sternly. “Unfortunately I made you cum once already and I have to let the others also have fun with our brand new toy.” you whine, tears of frustration brimming in your eyes. “I recall Mingi didn’t even touch you yet”. 
Your eyes instantly snap to the tall pink haired man, standing in front of you while a wicked smirk spreads on his lips. 
“No, I haven't played with our little play thing… yet” his low voice rumbles makes your chest tighten as you let Seonghwa’s length slip out of you in defeat. The last word somehow sounds like a threat and makes you shiver. 
“What you say, y/n?” your heart makes a loop in your chest when the man uses your name. They only used pet names until then and you weren't expecting it, it somehow feels a lot more personal, almost making you forget you’re actually working right now. “Do you wanna play with me?” his large hand wraps around your neck, not squeezing in the slightest way. His fingers are only curled around you, lightly pulling you up to guide you out Seonghwa’s lap. 
“Yes. Yes I want to play with you, sir” you say, entranced by the man. 
“Good girl” he praises, still leading you by the neck and making you kneel on the carpeted floor. “Lay there Angel” his low but commanding voice said.
You lay on your back and bring your knees over your chest before spreading your legs open. Jongho and San sitting at each side hold your legs apart while all of them eye down your red, swollen and pulsing little cunt.
Mingi kneels down and places himself right between your thighs, the huge member sitting heavily in his open palm, you gasp when you feel the hot tip glide over your drenched folds. Mingi repeats the motion a couple of times, each time pressing down with his tip on your swollen and sensitive bundle of nerves. You jerk your hips everytime under the divine pressure he applies but soon you grow frustrated.
“Please…”you whine breathless, looking up at him with half lidded eyes, your messy hair stuck to your forehead.
“Please what, angel?” he asks as you feel a pair of foreign hands cup your breasts, you don't even take the time to look around to find the owner of those hands, only eyeing down Mingi’s massive cock laying over your quivering little pussy.
“Please I want to feel you” you finally say, just above a murmur, squirming not wanting anything more than to finally be filled to the brim with a cock. After all this teasing you just need to feel a cock inside you. Anyone. You just want to be filled. 
Mingi chuckles darkly at your quiet request as he continues to tease you.
“You want my cock, baby?” he asks, deep and sultry voice lifting goosebumps on your bare skin. You nod, not peeling your eyes off the member. “Bark for it.”
“Huh?” you look back at him confused, the wicked smirk playing on his lips makes you shiver.
“Bark for my cock like the bitch you are” he lifts up his dick to let it slap back down against your sensitive and erect clit, making your jerk at the sharp sting of pleasure.
“He said bark!” Jongho adds, only now you see he’s the one teasing your nipples.
“Woof woof” you finally let out.
“Again!” Jongho commands as he lands a slap on your cheek. Making you gasp and arch your back into the carpeted floor.
“Woof woof woof woof” you repeatedly scream.
Tears of frustration are blurring your vision. Making you unable to see as Mingi finally plunges his fat cock into your desperate heat. Your walls immediately welcome him with happy spasms. Mingi grunts and moans all the way down to the bottom of your hungry little cunt.
But then again he stops moving, he just stays there, more tears spill from your eyes, dragging down your mascara, progressively ruining the makeup that was so thoughtfully planned out for you. Much to Wooyoung's satisfaction. 
“Please. Please.” you say breathless, unable to stop yourself from trying to rock yourself on Mingi’s cock. “Please fuck me” you ask again.
“Color, doll?” you hear Hongjoong ask. You look back at him confused. You need a moment before the words even mean anything in your mind. But the question forces your mind back to reality.
“Green” you utter. To your response Hongjoong and the others snicker.
“You really like to beg don’t you?” Seonghwa's remark makes you whine.
“Such a good little cocksleeve, properly begging for us. You’re doing so good baby” Yunho praises, wiping the tears away.
“Go ahead Mingi… give her what she wants” Hongjoongs concludes.
The pink haired man then looks back at you and starts to push inside your greedy little cunt steadily.
“Thank you, sir. Thank you, sir” you hastily say looking up at Hongjoong your orbs drowning in a sumptuous blend of desperation, gratitude and need. He looks down at you with a proud paternal smile. You’re so cute. Completely fucked out stupid. The perfect little fuck toy.
You feel your cunt deliciously stretch to accommodate Mingi’s fat cock as he bottoms out and lets out a low groan. You can’t help but to arch your back at the delicious filling sensation, the definitely girthy (to say the least) cock scraping against the toy crowding your other hole in exquisite pleasure. 
Gradually Mingi picks up the pace as Jongho continues to play with your tits. Flicking the hardened buds and pinching them occasionally crouching down to suck on them. 
Pleasure rises, your gut tightens in the familiar knot but as you become more vocal and as your walls start gripping Mingi a little tighter he slows down, denying you your high. You can’t help but to whine in disappointment.
But as a distraction from the frustration Wooyoung crouches down next to your face and once again teases your lips with his blazing tip. You gratefully open your mouth to take your mind off the agonizing pleasure Mingi inflicts to you. Hungrily sucking on Wooyoung’s length, bopping your head to the side as you felt another cock graze your cheek but you didn't open your eyes to see who it was you solely concentrated on Wooyoung.
“That's it baby. Suck my cock” you heard him praise as he wrapped his veiny hand around what was left of your bun. “Fffucck… y/n” he moaned. 
Mingi started to pick up the pace again making you moan on Wooyoung’s length, the vibrations making the younger man shiver. As you didn’t slow down, hollowing your cheeks on his length as you pulled and moaning as you pushed your head back.
“You’re so good for us, Princess” you heard Seonghwa from beside you, guessing it was his cock caressing your cheek. “That’s right, keep going like this” he encouraged and you picked the pace again.
“Fuck… You… mmmh… want my cum that… fucking… bad?” Wooyoung struggled to say as you felt his grip become tighter around your hair. You nodded again, you didn't know if your point came across but you didn't care you only wanted to taste his cum on your tongue.
“Fuckk” you heard Mingi still smashing himself between your legs.
“Fuck I’m cumming” Wooyoung pulled on your hair, popping his length out your mouth to release all over your face, warm white cum crashing on your nose, cheeks and lips. You hungrily licked your lips as Wooyoung grunted, emptying his balls on your face.
“Shit” the younger man breathes out as he unravels his fingers around your hair. Immediately Seonghwa pinches your chin and turns your head to the other side, to look at him. 
“Mingi please” you whine again as he decreases the pace again, you try to turn your head to the pink haired man kneeling between your legs but Seonghwa firmly maintains your face to him. 
“Shh, Princess.” he gently says as your body is shaken under each of Mingi's slow but powerful thrust. “Don't waste Wooyoung’s cum, okay?” with his index finger he scraped your cheek and dragged the thick liquid to your mouth, pushing his cum coated finger past your lips, as you wrapped your lips around it, moaning as Wooyoung’s taste filled your mind.
“That's it. Eat it all” Seonghwa praised as he jerked himself off with his other hand. “Good girl. You want mine too, Princess?” he asked, inching his length closer to you. 
“Yes! Please! Sir, please I want your cum” you eagerly reply. 
“Sweetheart is starved for cum, isn’t she?” Yeosang commented.
“Open. Stick your tongue out” Seonghwa’s tone was urgent, his voice was roughed up and strained, giving away at his own need. “Don't close your eyes, Princess” he says breathless, his fist frantically going up and down his aching cock. “Keep looking at me” he said, barely above a whisper. Catching his bottom lip between his teeth and knitting his brows as pleasure contorts his beautiful delicate features.
You happily obliged as Seonghwa lets himself go. Aiming primarily at your open wet hole but the uncontainable powerful streams also get on your nose and all the way to your forehead, perfectly splitting your ruined face in half. 
Seonghwa grunts in satisfaction as the others approve and jerk themself off at the beautiful and sinful sight.
“Keep your mouth open Baby. Don’t swallow yet” Mingi orders. “I want to see their cum in your mouth while I pound into you.” 
This time Mingi seems to be more serious, he doesn’t mean to tease you any longer.
“Fuckkkkk” Mingi grunts as he plows into you, making your tits jiggle under Jongho’s hands. “You're so fucking pretty with all that cum on your face, angel” He hisses through gritted teeth. “Wanna cum on my cock, baby?”
“Yesshhh” you managed to say, swirling the two loads on your tongue.
As the pleasurable feeling spreads from your core to your whole body you feel warm hands laid against your erect clit, drawing tight small circles on it. 
“You gonna be a good girl and cum for us, sweetheart?” Yeosang purrs as he teases your clit, instantly taking you to unknown heights. The pleasure fogs up your mind as you can only think about Yeosang’s hand on you and Mingi’s cock pounding you into oblivion. 
“Fuck… Cum now.” Mingi ordered as his thrust became shallower, less regular. 
“Thank you. thank you thank you” you blabbered, your mouth still full of cum as you let yourself come undone at Yeosang and Mingi’s touch. Your cunt uncontrollably pulsating around Mingi’s big cock, the indescribable pleasure making your legs shake and your eyes roll to the back of your head as you let your tongue hang out your mouth, the cum threatening to spill with each jerk of your body.
“Fuckkk I’m cumming” Mingi announced as he became uneven, finally letting himself release deep inside you, his hips snapping to yours a couple of more times as he painted you a brand new shade of white, your convulsing little cunt milking him to the last drop, eagerly wanting to drown itself in the precious and delicious essence. 
“Swallow now, darling”. Yeosang allowed you. And you gladly did so. Finally getting the thick cum down your throat, relishing on the intoxicating taste as you let Mingi slip out of you and his cum lazily dripping out your shapeless hole.
“Come here and clean your little mess” Mingi said out of breath as he stumbled back sitting on the floor with his legs in front of him. You got up on all four and crawled to him, finding your spot between his ample thighs while he held out his sticky cock to you, covered with your slick and his cum. You kept your ass up as you bent over to wrap your mouth around the tip and giving it a hard suck. You felt the warm load drip down your thighs as the mixed flavors of your arousal and his cum flooded your mouth.
As you licked clean every inch you felt a pair of hands gently pat your ass.
“You really have no shame, do you?” Jongho commented from behind you, landing a slap on your raw ass. You jerked and moaned as you popped Mingi’s freshly cleaned length out of your mouth. 
You felt Jongho pull on the plug that was still inside you. He pulled lightly on it a couple of times to let it be sucked back in by your ass. 
“Oh what a greedy little hole, clinging onto the toy like this” he said finally pulling the toy out, admiring your hole opening and closing in need to be filled again. “Don’t worry darling, you won’t stay empty for long”. Just as he said that he plunged two fingers inside your blinking hole. His index and middle finger forming a V to spread your hole open as much as possible. You moaned in bliss as the others watched you being split open in awe. 
“You like my fingers in your ass?” Jongho asked as his other hand was rubbing soothing circles on your bare bottom. 
“Yes!! Yess sir I love them” you almost yelled back eager to feel more of him.
“What a good little whore” he praised, landing another spank on your reddened cheek. He then curled his fingers to rub against your sweet spot. You let your head hang as you close your eyes only focusing on the pleasure happening behind you when you feel a gentle touch on your cheek. When you look up it’s San, kneeling in front of you, holding his swollen and painfully hard length in his hand. 
“My turn now, kitten.” he says in a raspy tone. “Open up” as soon as you part your lips he slips inside the wet hole, directly aiming for the back of your throat. As you are on your hands and knees your mouth and neck perfectly align in a flat line and San is able to reach the back of your throat easily. You feel the pleasure burn again in your already sore throat, awakening the dormant and dull pain, a little souvenir of his previous visit.
After a couple of back and forths he pops his length out your mouth, making you whine but it’s caught in your throat when you feel Jongho stuff one more finger inside your crowded little ass.
San wraps his fist around his length as lazily pumps himself a few times.
“Give me a hand Woo”
You see Wooyoung’s veiny hand wrap around San’s cock. San lets out a throaty moan as the younger man’s fingers curled around his length, pumping him lazily while you observed in awe as his catlike eyes creased and his eyebrows met on his forehead. 
San’s now free hand gently rubbed your face, his lips being pulled in a sinful smirk.
“Faster” he instructed Wooyoung. and he immediately started to pump his fist quicker. “Ffuucckk yesss” he hissed clenching his jaw as his half lidded eyes stared right into you.
“I think kitten wants her milk” he chuckled at the way your eyes started to grow in approbation, pupils dilated at the thought. “Let’s not make her wait any longer”
You licked your lips in anticipation while San caught his bottom lip between his teeth, completely dropping the cocky smile as you saw him twitch in Wooyoung’s hand.
“Open your mouth, darling” Wooyoung ordered, aiming San’s cock right at your wet hole.
“Fuck, kitten! Want my milk?” San asked as you saw his muscular thighs contract.
“Yes please sir I'm a thirsty kitty” you said before sticking your tongue out. Which made San push his jaw forward.
“Then take it” he said, his hand going from your cheek to your neck to pull your face further onto his crotch right before he cums as Wooyoung clenches his fist around the twitching cock. A colossal amount of cum spurts out of his open slit, crashing on your face and mixing with the others’ loads, your tears and smudged makeup.
“Good girl” Wooyoung praises.
The salty and bitter taste wraps around your tongue as you moan in satisfaction letting your mind focus on this intoxicating flavor. 
But Jongho pulls you out of your trance by circling your waist with his free hand, to be able to play with your clit. Which has you moaning instantly.
“I want you to cum around my fingers” Jongho whispered as he drew tight and rapid circles on your over-stimulated clit. More tears spill from your eyes as the pleasure elevates your body again.
“Pleaseeee” you whine. At this point you don't even know what you are begging for anymore. Are you begging him to stop, to let you rest? Are you begging him for more?
Then Wooyoung crouches down and sticks his tongue inside your mouth as your jaw is slacked. Your moans and whines are muffled as your eyes roll back into your skull while you share San’s taste mixed your spit with the raven black haired man.
“That's it baby” Jongho praises a carnivorous grin pulling at his lips. 
Another earth-breaking orgasm washes over your body as your tight little asshole tries to swallow Jongho’s fingers whole, your cum spraying out of you in a powerful stream again while you moan into Wooyoung’s open mouth.
When Jongho pulls out you are left breathless and fucked out of your mind.
“She’s ready back here” Jongho announced, wiping his fingers on your skirt abandoned on the floor. “Who wants to have a go?” he asks.
“Me” Yunho answered immediately. 
You can't help but to gulp. Out of the eight of them, Yunho is easily the biggest one. You can’t help but to nervously chew on your bottom lip as you eye down Yunho’s hard and leaking huge cock. 
“Stay right here” Yeosang says as he sees you squirming.
Yunho kneels behind you but as soon as you turn your head to look back, Yeosang gently pinches your chin and makes you look at him.
“Look what you did to me, sweetheart.” he gently purred, swiping the raging hot tip across your wet swollen lips. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this hard ever. That’s all for you, darling” Yeosang sings as he pushes back his long black hair. You let a moan escape your lips as you feel Yunho’s fingers swipe up your slit to your clit, flicking the poor exhausted nub a couple of times, when he notices how sensitive you are. You hear him chuckle behind you.
“Don’t you think you have to take responsibility for it?” Yeosang’s grip on your chin grows tighter but his voice remains as sweet as honey.
“Yes, sir” you agree as you open your mouth again. As soon as Yeosang’s hot cock head glazes over your tongue the sweet taste of precum completely wipes away the soreness of your already abused jaw. 
“Yesss” Yeosang hisses, gentle hands wrapped around your nape and guiding your lips to meet his pubic bone. “So fucking good baby” he gently pulls out and goes back in immediately. 
Then you feel Yunho’s cock rub against your soaked center, emitting a lowly grunt, making you moan on Yeosang’s cock. The latter chuckles and the way you shudder feeling your little cunt being teased again.
“You want Yunho’s cock, sweetheart?” he asks, pulling his dick out of your mouth to allow you to answer. 
“Yes! Yes please Sir!” you eagerly say, trying to look back again but Yeosang doesn't let you..
“Look at me, darling. Only me” he reminds you. “Where do you want his cock?” he traces the outline of your lips with his spit coated member, teasing himself in the process.
“In my ass please. I want Yunho’s cock in my ass” You said with pleading eyes looking up at Yeosang. 
“So greedy” Yunho snickered once more as he finally pushed himself inside your blinking hole. You can’t help but to gasp at the way your ass expands to accommodate Yunho’s enormous cock. Each of the rings inside your tiny hole stretches to a brand new limit to fit the monstrous member forcing its way inside of you. You groan and bite your lip all the way until Yunho has pushed the whole thing inside and you manage to take him completely. You suck in a couple of deep and shaky breaths.
“Such a good girl swallowing my big cock whole like this” Yunho praises as he stays still for a moment, allowing you to adapt to him. “Are you alright, babygirl?” he asks with his sweet voice, the caring tone makes your heart flutter.
“Yes sir, I’m good” You answer with a short breath. 
“You’re so pretty, darling” Yeosang says, wiping a tear off your mascara stained cheek. “So beautifully ruined for us” he says before pushing his dick past your lips again. At the exact same time Yunho slowly pulled himself out of you. Scraping you so deliciously as he did so, making you moan on Yeosang’s cock, the vibrations making a shiver run down his spine. 
“Fuck you’re gripping me so tight babygirl” Yunho growled as he pushed his length back inside. You could have cum with just this. Just by the way he was making you so full of him, scraping you in all the right places. To take your mind off the pleasure that was burning your guts you started to focus on Yeosang instead. 
You bopped your head along his cock and hollowed your cheeks when you reached the tip, sucking a little harder as your tongue lapped at his slit making sure your tongue never forgot his taste.
“You’re so good with your mouth, sweetheart” Yeosang said, warm hands gently wrapping around you as his hips helped you to get him off. Snapping his hips against your face but never to the point to trigger your gag reflex, there was a gentleness to him, a softness in the way he looked down at you almost amorously as you felt his cock throb on your tongue. The tenderness made you want to be the best girl you could be for him. You wanted to give him your all and you intend to do just that.
“Fuckkk” he hissed as you wrapped your tongue around the sensitive head, bopping your head a little harder.
“Babygirl wants our cum too?” Yunho asked as his hips became sloppier against yours, the two large palms tensing on your ass cheeks and squeezing them to keep himself balanced on his knees as he smashed himself inside. 
“Stay still, sweetheart” Yeosang suddenly says, steadying himself right in front of your mouth. One hand wrapped around the underside of your chin, the other still on your nape. “I’m gonna use your cute little mouth. That's what you want, right darling? Wanna be my toy?” You nodded your head quickly while you obediently waited for him to fuck your mouth, staying as still as Yunho allowed you to be as he pounded into you.
Yeosang’s thrusts were shallow at first. But quickly grew deeper, making your core tighten and your eyes prickle again
“Fuck baby. You’re gonna make me cum if you clench like this” Yunho grunted. “I want you to cum with me, understood, babygirl?” 
You only moaned back, unable to form words as your mouth was clearly occupied and busy. 
“Goog girl” he moaned, his trusts becoming more and more sloppy as Yunho became more vocal, grunting and moaning with each coming and going, his grip on your ass growing tighter until he was ready to bust. 
“Fuck, baby. Now” he breathlessly said as he gave you one particularly powerful thrust. “Now. Cum for me. Cum for us, baby”
You let yourself leap past that edge once more, the overwhelming pleasure makes you moan and whine against Yeosang’s length while your ass clings onto Yunho’s huge cock, demanding to be filled with his cum, walls pulsing and clenching in exquisite bliss as you felt him slip out of you. Yunho only had to give himself a couple of light pumps around his fist before he exploded all over your ass, long ropes of scolding hot cum splashing on your back even reaching all the way to your hair and the back of your head. 
“Fuckkkk” Yunho cried out, clenching his fist around his cock, pressing his thumb over the throbbing head to push every last drop of his cum out just for you. 
“Shit, darling, I'm gonna cum” Yeosang declared, following right after the taller man, his hips snapping one last time against your lips, as you felt his throbbing cock releasing the thick cum right into your throat, not even leaving you the pleasure to feel it slide against your tongue, directly delivering it down your throat. Stuttering hips and pubic bone flushed against your face. A long string of deep moans echoing the ones of Yunho.
When Yeosang slipped out of you and pinched your chin again to make you look up at him. He looked back at you like you were the most precious thing on earth, a treasure that needed to be protected at all costs. Looking so fondly at his fucked out toy, your half lidded eyes hung in nothingness as your body was still lightly shaken by the intense and multiple orgasms.
“So pretty, sweetheart” he lays a gentle kiss on your swollen and numb lips, which you barely had the conscience to even reciprocate. “Such a good girl for us”
When Yeosang gently lets go of you, you have to gather all the strength left in your body not to let yourself collapse to the ground and hold yourself still on your hands and knees. You barely even notice when Hongjoong crouches in front of you.
“Color, Doll?” he asks as he lazily pumps his swollen cock inside his hand.
“G-green” you barely manage to say. Your mind still completely hazy from the previous events but you are brought back instantly as Hongjoongs lands a quick slap on your mascara stained cheek, making you whip your head to the side.
“Didn’t hear you, doll” he said, giving you a chance to correct yourself. 
“Green, S-sir” you sniffled, remembering to use the correct title, your eyes snapping to him.
“Good girl” Hongjoong added, soothing your burning cheek with his thumb. “I guess it’s my turn now, right, doll?” he looked down at you with a carnivorous, predatory smile that made you shudder.
“Yes, Sir. Whenever you are ready”
Hongjoong sat right in front of you, in the cum soaked carpeted floor of the jet.
“Sit on my cock, doll.” Hongjoong said, holding the base of his length up in the air, urging you to be filled up once again.
You struggled to get up on your two legs and staggered over to Hongjoong, placing your feet at each side of him. When you lowered your hips, aligning your entrance with Hongjoong’s member your thighs barely held you anymore. Your body was exhausted but somehow you were yearning for more. Your insatiable and sore little cunt was throbbing at the idea of being filled up again. 
When Hongjoong’s tip glided along your slit you moaned and draped your arms around his shoulders, using him as a way to get balance. You let out a long moan when Hongjoong finally splits you open, his length pushing the remnants of Mingi’s load deeper inside you. 
“Fuck. You’re already throbbing, you dumb little whore” Hongjoong said, hand untangling with your hair and breaking your neck backward, to give himself access to your already bruised neck. Adding his touch to the stained canvas with bites and kisses. “Yearning to be filled again. Isn't that right, doll?” he asked, yanking your hair a little harder when you didn’t reply fast enough.
“Yes, Sir. I wanted your cock so bad. It feels so good!!!” you moaned as you started to bounce yourself on him, earning a satisfied groaned from the blonde man. “Right thereee” you let out as you sink your hips all the way down, slowly again, feeling the head of his cock rub against your sweet spot. 
“Good girl. Keep going” Hongjoong urged, letting go of your hair and laying himself back on his elbows, backing away slightly to take your whole form in. He wanted to admire you fuck yourself up on his cock. He wanted to see your tits bounce and your pussy throb as you drove yourself to madness. He wanted to see you cry. He knew exactly how.
He landed a purposeful and sharp slap right on your soaked little clit. The reaction is immediate and exactly what Hongjoong was looking for. You emit the most divine of screams, the perfect blend of pleasure and pain. Hongjoong can't help but to smirk when he sees how your bottom lip trembles and your eyes fill up with tears again all the while never stopping your hips snapping against his. 
“Say thank you” he orders, putting both of his hands on your thigh keeping them nice and parted, eyes only ogling the way your hungry little cunt swallowed him only to spit him out covered in your slick seconds later and do it all over again and again and again. 
“Thank you, sir” you whine. “Please another one, sir” you ask, mind slipping back into an indiscernible fog. Hongjoong cocks an eyebrow in surprise at your sudden request. But he’s pleasantly surprised by your obedience and devotion.
“What a pathetic little pain slut you are, y/n” He lands another slap just as perfectly aimed as the previous one making you moan and finally making the precious tears spill from your eyes at the mention of your name.
“Such a good little fuck toy, asking so nicely. Good girls get rewards, right doll?” Hongjoong says as he starts to draw small circles on your throbbing clit with his index and middle finger. 
“Oh my god. Th-thank you, Sir” you whine, more large tears rolling on your heated cheeks. The pleasure makes you eager to chase your high and you find yourself bouncing harder on Hongjoongs’ cock. Not even realizing Jongho creeping up behind you again.
“Sir, can I please cum?” you ask, feeling your high dangerously nearing as you feel your walls tighten around Hongjoong’s length and your clit throbbing under his touch.
“You’re an eager little whore aren’t you?” the voice of the youngest resounds behind you. When you turn your head he pushes on your shoulder making you fall forward onto Hongjoong’s chest. Hongjoong chuckles as Jongho gets on his knees and shimmies himself between the older man’s legs. You still yourself completely when you feel him rub his tip around your rim.
Without even another word he shoved his whole cock inside your available hole in one thrust, making you moan into Hongjoong’s ear.
“Now be a good little cocksleeve and stay still while we fuck you stupid.” Jongho ordered as he was slowly pulling on his length while you felt Hongjoong squirm beneath you and plant both his feet on the ground only to thrust up inside of you at the exact same time as Jongho.
You can't help but scream-moan as the two rods inside you grind against each other. You plant your manicured nails on Hongjoong’s shoulders, almost to the point of drawing blood making him arch his back and chuckle at the dull pain.
“Fuck yes!!” you cry out, hanging your head on Hongjoong’s shoulder as they move in unison to rearrange your guts. 
“That feels good, doll?” Hongjoong asks, continuously fucking his hips up into you.
“Yes. Yes. Yes, sir. I fucking love it” you say through gritted teeth trying your hardest not to let yourself cum from the sheer pressure the both apply in turns to your sweet spot.
“Yeah” Jongho added from behind you. “You love two cocks fucking you up like this?” He said squeezing your ass, nails digging in the supple flesh of your raw cheeks. 
“Yes Sir. I love both your cocks” you reply.
“Two cocks at the same time is the bare minimum for a whore like you right, baby?” he asks, landing a harsh slap on your bum. 
“Oh my god. Please can I cum now?” you ask in a strangled moan, knowing well enough by the way your pussy and ass are throbbing you won’t be able to hold back much longer. You are desperate for your release.
“Beg us for it.” Hongjoong said, his hands holding your waist down.
At this point you've lost consciousness of everything that isn't the two cocks slamming inside you right now. You can’t remember anything except for the unbearable pleasure you feel, making your walls clench and your center gush with wet and slimy arousal, coating the two man fucking you into your next life right now. If anybody asked you, you couldn’t even remember your own name. At this point you would do anything, anything at all, to finally grasp your climax. You only want one thing and it is to finally cum around these two cocks. And if you have to beg for it, so be it.
“Please. Please. Sir. Please let me cum for you. There's nothing I want more than to show you how I shake and scream for your cocks. Wanna cum for you, wanna give you the best show. Wanna make you cum inside my throbbing little hungry cunt” You struggle to say between moans, your voice interrupted by the incessant carousel of their thrusts inside your tired and shapeless little holes.
“Go ahead, doll. Cum.”
Finally you let go of that pressure building in your core, the burning pleasure spreading into your limbs and making you shake. Your cunt and ass violently throbbing and clenching on Jongho and Hongjoong. You cry and moan as tears of relief roll down on your cheeks.
“So fucking pretty cumming on our cocks, doll” Hongjoong praises as his hips become sloppy. “Want me to fill your pretty little cunt with my cum?” he asks, teeth grazing your ears. 
“Yes please, sir” you reply in a sob, your orgasm continuing to rip through you.
“Fucking take my cum deep in your ass, fucking whore” Jongho demands a he releases inside your throbbing little hole. 
“Yes Thank you sir”  you cry out, your ass clenching around the younger one’s thick cock. 
“Fuckkk” Hongjoong grunts as he finally cums inside you filling your wet hole with hot cum, the thick slimy and white liquid spilling and dripping down, joining the existing mess on the carpeted floor. 
The three of you ascending to your peaks at the same time in a beautiful unisson of moans and grunts. Until they gradually stop their hips smashing into yours. For a couple of minutes you all just lay there to catch your breath, all piled on top of each other. 
After that you barely have enough time to summarily wash up (meaning roughly wipe away the smudged makeup, cum and sweat with a hot towel and hop back into your former uniform) before you have to fasten your seat belt again. 
The descent is smooth, in this general euphoria there’s nothing awkward left between you and the members. After being so intimate with each other there’s no place left for embarrassment or discomfort. You are even able to crack a few jokes and communicate light heartedly. Except for the stain on the carpeted floor and the remnants of your endeavors in your hair there was no way of knowing what had happened between all of you only minutes ago.
As they disembarked the jet Hongjoong gave you one last small paper bag. He insisted that it was more than well deserved after the service of the highest quality you provided.
“Really I insist” he says, pushing the small bag into your hands. “Please take this and open it as soon as you get the time” he says before glancing back at his members waiting for him a little further already geared up with the beanies, bucket hats, sun glasses and masks. 
“Thank you very much” you said bowing your head respectfully. “Thank you for choosing Air France, we hope to see you soon” you said waving goodbye at them while they disappeared in the elbowed tube.
You sat on the bench and opened the small bag to find huge stacks of cash in 500 euros bills. Your heart almost looped in your chest and you thanked yourself to have chosen to sit before opening the final gift. You found a small card inside it.
We wanted to get you enough that you could retire if you wanted to. But we really hope you don’t ;)...
See you soon y/n.
-8 makes 1 girl cream, ATEEZ
ps: it was Mingi’s idea.
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a/n: so?? how was it?? honestly im so so happy to present that to you finally! i've had this idea first since 2020 and it took 3 whole years for the idea to be shaped into something that i could actually write then actually taking the time to write and edit and publish... so pleaseeee tell me you enjoyed if you did. in the comments or in my asks if you wanna stay anon 🥸 (especially if you read the watersports and you liked it. im scared about publishing something like this so reassure me pls <3). you really have no idea how happy it would make me if you left a nice comment. honeslty just come fuel my praise kink please 🥺. And reblogging would be really great too <333 that being said im thankful you read it wether you choose to react or not and ily <3
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clockwayswrites · 5 months ago
Text
Constantine & Danny, Cyan & Magenta, Walking through a puddle & Rumble of thunder. @jacksnervesofsteel, @ayzenigma
Gotham was miserable tonight.
This wasn’t a surprise to John. Gotham was always miserable. It was damp and muggy, smelling faintly of the sea no matter where you were and of death if you were in the wrong area.
John was often in the wrong area. It came with his business. He was sure that by the end of the night every pore would be rank with the smell of death. There were lemons already waiting in his shoddy motel room for him.
(John had learned through experience it was easier to by the lemons before he smelled like death.)
It wasn’t that John liked smelling like death, but like he had said, it came with his business. From everything that he had been able to gather, his business tonight was a cult and a nasty one at that. To make everything worse, it had it had set up in Gotham. Location didn’t always mater, but Gotham was one of those special places like the Bermuda Triangle or the Paris Catacombs; it was bathed in history and mystery and blood. He tried not to think about Gotham unless he had to.
Tonight he just hoped he’d get out of there without calling the attention of the Bats.
John found an awning to duck under to get out of the rain for a bit as another low rumble tore through the sky. The metal grate across the door rattled, as if echoing the thunder, as John leaned into it. The whole street was shutdown already even though it was hardly past ten. That suited John. Easier to not have witnesses. Much easier to not have easy sacrifices.
The cigarette was reassuring as it settled between his lips. Course his damn lighter wouldn’t light. He flicked futilely at the wheel.
Someone was getting close.
John could hear them.
There was that telltale squash of rubber soles through water, the sound different enough to stand out past the drizzle of rain. John readied a spell on his fingertips, cupped behind his palm keeping the damp off his cigarette. If he was lucky whoever it was wouldn’t even see him and just move on by.
“Looks like you need a light.”
But when was he ever lucky.
“Yeah, lighter is being a right bastard,” John answered casually. He glanced up over his hand and into blue eyes so deep they felt endless.
“Here, take mine.”
“Naw, mate—”
“Take it, I’ve gotten my use out of it.”
Refusing gifts was often unwise. “…sure, thanks.”
Constantine glanced down at the silver lighter sitting in the guy’s hand and then past it and down into the puddle under the stranger’s feet. From the reflection of the water, a skull grinned back at him. There were no more deep, blue eyes, just green glowing out from the skull. Sometimes it was eyes. Sometimes there was skin and muscle and eyes. Crackling electricity scattered over the bone, rending the flesh from it as quick as it grew back.
John jolted as a too flesh hand pressed the lighter into his.
“Take it, Laughing Magician,” the skull said. John’s gaze jerked up to the stranger who just grinned at him. “You’ll need it tonight.”
“What—”
The strange man backed up a step. The skeletal reflection backed up with him and was out of sight.
“Try not to die, John. That would be messy.”
“Ta, mate,” John said half on auto pilot.
He watched the man until he was out of sight.
Gotham was miserable tonight.
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macfrog · 1 year ago
Text
mile high sex on fire chapter three
we're going overseas baby! (this is gonna be a three-parter cause i hyperfixated and couldn't stop myself so BUCKLE UP) author's note: i absolutely do NOT condone the use of private jets. they are GROSS and terrible for the environment and just fucking fly commerical ok? but in this ceo!joel ficland, private jets are fuelled by delusion and emit only clean, pure oxygen. thank you for reading. now, with that in mind, please enjoy reader being railed in a plane cabin. i love u all to paris n back 🤍🥐
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pairing: ceo!joel x fem!reader
summary: you accompany joel on a work trip to paris, to eat good food, drink expensive wine, and…get to know each other a little better
warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) environmental crime, plane sex, fingering, handjob, unprotected piv sex, daddy kink, joel being a fucking exhibitionist menace, creampie, more gf representation, showering together, softdom!joel, sugardaddy!joel, heavy on the flirting, age gap (reader is late 20s, joel late 40s), cursing, very ridiculous spending on very ridiculous things, workplace relationship and therefore odd power dynamic yadda yadda yadda
word count: 6.3k
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Joel’s fingers squeeze your hips, his pace quickens even more. “Louder.” “They’re gonna – ah – they’re gonna hear.” “Who?” Joel asks. He knows damn well who. You’re only separated by a thin paneled wall. You’d be fucking surprised if the flight attendants haven’t been hearing you for the last twenty minutes. “Baby,” Joel’s voice coos as he bends forward, sweaty chest flat against your back. His lips line with your ear, his breath hot on your skin. “They get paid not to hear.”
You’ve never been on a work trip with Joel. Usually, he likes to take them alone. Martha told you once about a time a couple years before you started when Joel took an intern to a conference in Canada, and the kid spent the entire first night in the hotel bar, missed the conference the next day, and only just made the flight home, scruff of his neck between Joel’s knuckles.
He racked up a bill of nearly a thousand dollars just on liqueur and finger food. Joel had sworn he’d never take anybody anywhere with him again.
But there’s this client over in Europe he’s due to meet – an annual thing where they sit on the terrace of some luxurious hotel, drink expensive wine that tastes like piss, according to Joel, and have a cock-off over their money and status.
Sounds like fun, right?
You’ve a pretty good idea why he asked you. And he made a pretty convincing pitch: he’d promised you a relaxing weekend. You didn’t have to sit in on any meetings, he’d let you amble around the city by day, take you for a fancy dinner or two at night. All expenses paid. You barely had to lift a finger.
As per the deal, Martha organized the travel documents. Printed them, collated them, handed them to you in a neat little folder with a paperclip on top and a Post-It note with Have fun! written in red ink. You’d slipped it into your bag and followed Joel to his car, nodding to Rand as you ducked under the starlit ceiling.
Joel’s left hand sits around your thigh – because where else would it be? – his right clutching his phone, thumb scrolling as he absentmindedly reads some document. You’re watching the city soar by from behind tinted glass. Before long, it’s the dark green of trees flickering by, and then, canvased by the clear blue sky, an air traffic control tower in the distance.
The Rolls saunters past the main entrance to the airport. You watch it roll by, leaning forward in your seat.
“Wait, what…?”
“What, baby?” Joel asks, looking up from his phone.
You usually knew every fine detail of the plan by heart. It was your job to. But with Martha being in charge of arranging your flight, you’d missed one crucial speck of information this time. And that is –
You’re travelling by private fucking jet.
The car drives across smooth tarmac toward a pointed white plane, bold against the brilliant blue sky behind it. There are four people standing at the bottom of the steps leading into it; what you assume are the two pilots, and two smartly dressed flight attendants.
“How did I never know you had a…?”
Joel smirks. “Never showed you it. C’mon.”
He gets out, strolls around to your door and opens it for you. You’re still gawking at the jet.
“Jeez…” you whisper, hopping out of the car.
“What is it?” he says through a chuckle, leading you across the tarmac.
“I feel so…Everyone looks so…I’m in my fucking sweatpants, Joel.”
He looks at you under low brows, like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. Like he doesn’t want to hear one more word of it. He holds an arm out; his pinkie bumps into your tummy.
“I think you look beautiful, darlin’.”
It might’ve stopped you in your tracks. Might’ve crumbled the entire airport to dust. Might’ve made the sun drop out of the sky. You’re not sure. You wouldn’t notice if you dropped dead right now.
His words, his soft voice when he says them, send a pang of white noise through your ears, echoing around and bouncing off the walls of your head.
You swallow. Digest what he just said. And do your best to forget all about it.
Joel takes your hand and leads you to the plane steps, helping you up. He follows at your heels. “Thanks, Jerry, Lisa,” he says. You give both pilots a nervous smile as you pass.
The airconditioned cabin chills your arms when you reach the top, twisting around to look back to Joel.
“Go on.” Joel nods, palm ushering you inside.
You step forward and turn right, standing in the doorway to a pristine, white-walled, wooden interior cabin, leather seats dotted against the walls, dark brown glassy tables between them, soft gray carpet at your feet, vacuum cleaner lines still visible. There’s a long plush couch on the left wall, today’s newspaper on the side table next to it.
You feel Joel’s body shell around yours, his chin dips against your ear.
“Like it?”
“Not really. Feelin’ pretty guilty about all the air pollution.”
“How many trees you want me to plant to make up for it?”
You tut. “What are you doin’ in business? You’re so funny.”
You wander off without looking back, heading for one of the window seats.
“Uh,” Joel clears his throat, “there’s a separate cabin up back, too, if you want it.”
“Separate cabin?”
He nods. “’s got a bed. It’s cozy.”
A bed. Of course this asshole has a fucking bed in his private jet.
The pilots file in behind him, dipping into the cockpit. The flight attendants follow, and begin preparing for takeoff. Joel strolls over to the seat opposite yours, giving your legs a nudge under the varnished table when he sits down.
You both click your seatbelts into place, relax, and look out the window as the jet rolls by the airport, heading for the runway. The engine fires up properly, a deep hum you feel rattling up your spine, and then you’re pulled forward, body pushing heavily into the soft leather of your seat.
The plane races down the runway, the grass and trees blurring into a mix of dark and light green, before you’re lifting off the tarmac and into the air, your tummy flipping a little from excitement and maybe some nerves, and…Joel’s gaze on you.
When your eyes meet his, he scans down. Your little black t-shirt, skin tight. The way your breasts rise and fall with your breathing. Down to the waist of your sweatpants, then further down your legs. You know exactly what’s going through his mind.
And, honestly…being on a private jet on your way to a free weekend in Paris, accompanied by the best sex you’ve ever had…? Goes against a couple of your core beliefs about the world, but you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t on your mind, too.
The flight attendants let you guys know you can unbuckle your belts now, and, like a hive mind, you both unclip them and stand.
“Was gonna go check out that, uh–”
“I’ll show you to it,” Joel cuts in, taking your bag and leading you down the aircraft. He dips his head as he walks, the cabin too small for him to stand straight. You follow like a fucking dog, trying to hide the spring in your step.
Through a door concealed to look like part of the wall is a small room with a double bed, soft white sheets untouched. There’s a little TV on the wall opposite, a small table with another comfy chair by one of the windows, and a rail for hanging up clothes. The shades over the windows are pulled almost all the way down, sunlight splintering through and lining the soft carpet.
Joel wasn’t wrong. It is cozy.
He sets your bag down on the floor and closes the door behind you. You notice he locks it.
The corners of your lips tug, your eyebrows raise. “Might be classier than my bedroom.”
He scoffs, and you turn, falling back onto the bed and kicking your shoes off.
“Alright,” you announce, flat-out on the sheets, “I’m gonna get some shut-eye.”
Joel looks surprised. Almost – offended. “Sh…You’re gonna sleep?”
“’s why you got a bed, ain’t it?”
He narrows his eyes, runs his tongue along the bottom of his teeth. Steps forward. Sticks a knee between yours. “Not exactly.”
You smile up at him. He’s pulling the jacket from his shoulders, plain white tee underneath. He looks so fucking good. The man always looks so fucking good. He tosses the jacket to the floor and bends down over you. Hands pressing deep into the bed either side of your head, torso hovering over yours. Hips just too far away for you to lift yours up to meet them.
You take hold of his wrists. “Then…show me what it’s for.”
Joel looks from your lips to your chest, then back up to your eyes, grinning like a devil. He lifts one hand and his fingers come down to play with the drawstring of your sweatpants, tugging painfully slow on them. You want to whine, but that’d be letting him win too easily.
He loosens the waist and his fingers find the hem of your tee tucked beneath.
“You gonna show me those pretty tits, baby?”
You nod, biting your lip as he peels your top from your body, your back arching, arms splaying out on the bed. Joel uncovers your chest and slips the top over your head, discarding it to the side and leaning back to take the view in.
You didn’t wear a bra today. Wanted to travel in as much comfort as possible.
One of your wiser choices.
“Fuck, darlin’…” he breathes, eyes set on your perky tits, your round, hardened nipples. His reaction sends a fleet of electricity down to your core.
“C’mere,” you whisper, taking his shirt in your fists and dragging him down against your naked torso. And then his hips are there, right against yours, and you grind up into him, feeling his bulging crotch between your legs.
Your fingers dance along the hem of his shirt and he lifts off of you, letting you tug it over his head before his chest is pressed back against yours. You part your lips and he fills your mouth with his tongue, hands in your hair, body grinding against your own. He’s pushing you further up the mattress until you’re both in the center, disturbing the sheets and shifting the cushions decorating the bed.
Joel’s hand trails down your naked stomach and under your pants, cutting past the lace of your underwear to cup your mound, middle finger daring ever lower. You moan and drag your hips forward to edge his fingers further, until they’re dipping between your folds and your body’s rolling with pleasure.
“Yeah,” Joel murmurs, “that’s it, huh? That’s what you want?”
“Uhuh,” you nod, bottom lip between your teeth, eyelashes batting in a plea for him to keep going. Keep fucking going.
His mouth dips between your jaw and your shoulder, teeth picking up your hot skin to suck a bruise while two fingers push inside of you, lifting your back from the mattress and into Joel’s rock-solid body. Some noise escapes his lips, something caught between a laugh and a groan.
“So tight, baby,” he murmurs, drawing a smile across your face.
And then your hands are messing around at his waistband, fingers fumbling with the button. Wanting him in your hands as much as he has you around his own. Needing to feel what you’re doing to him, since he’s well aware of what he’s done to you.
Joel’s hand slips gently out from under your pants and his weight lifts off of you. In the slivers of light streaming through the cabin windows, his silhouette steps back off the bed and shoves the denim down his thighs. His jeans hit the floor and as quick as he left you, he’s back pressing into you again, hard outline of his length nudging against the top of your thigh.
You slip a hand under the elastic of his underwear and take hold of his cock, while he picks up where he left off between your legs. Your lips connect, breathing laughs and pants and desperate moans into each other, hands working to push each other closer and closer…
Joel’s fingers pump in and out, curling just enough to hit your G-spot every time. His thumb’s bumping at your clit, pushing waves of pleasure with each circle. He adds a third finger when you start to gasp, the movement of your fist around his shaft becoming messy and staggered. You’re trying to focus on him, trying to get him there as fast as he’s getting you, but he’s so fucking good at it, and you’re starting to fade out of the cabin.
Your eyes roll shut; head falls back against the bed. You’re still trying to fucking jack him off, as if he’d even let himself cum in your hands before he’s been inside you. But you’re desperately trying not to give him the satisfaction of having you unfold on his hand less than ten minutes into this. Desperately trying not to give in to him and his stupid private jet.
“It’s okay, baby,” Joel whispers in your ear, pressing a delicate kiss to your hair, “you can cum. Do it for me.”
“F-uck you,” you whisper, and you cave.
Let’s put it down to the air pressure when you’re this high up. In fact, let’s just say: you’re on a plane, and you’ve never had anything remotely close to sex on a plane before, and that’s why, when your orgasm bursts through, you cum harder than you think you’ve ever done before. It’s because of how fucking insane this is.
Let’s just say.
You come to with your face buried in the crook of Joel’s neck. His chest is vibrating, Adam’s apple bobbing. You pull back and notice the dimples in his swollen cheeks, the crow’s feet by his eyes, and then…the wide smile spread across his lips.
“That feel good, darlin’?” he asks through a laugh.
You curse at him again, eyes screwing shut. His hand’s still between your legs, slowly moving in and out, lulling you through the tail end of your orgasm. Your hands have deserted their original job; they’re clutching Joel’s shoulders. You don’t even remember grabbing onto him.
“Got somethin’ that’ll make you feel even better,” he breathes, and before you’re fully awake, his hands are on your hips, flipping you over. He drags your pants down your legs, discarding them to the floor beside his.
You sigh when he pulls your ass up into the air, resting your ear on your folded arms. Accepting defeat, or maybe just…letting him do what he does best.
Joel slips your panties to the side and runs his cock up and down your dripping cunt. You flinch, still sensitive, and feel him slow down.
“Gonna make you feel real good, alright?”
“Mhm,” you reply, eyes closing again as he lines up.
It sounds like a bit of a dumb thing to say. Joel makes you feel good every time his hands are on you, without question. Even that first night, in that dive bar, before he’d ever really done anything. His hands sent electricity through your body that you failed all weekend to rid yourself of. But you hear what he’s really saying.
You haven’t had each other yet without someone on the other side of the wall, waiting for one of you. It’s always been a rush, always been about that race to the finish line just to satisfy your needs, and then return to Earth as soon as you’re done.
There’s no need to rush to that finish line this time around. Nobody’s waiting. Joel can do whatever he wants, can fuck you however he likes, and have you under his hand for as long as he wants. As long as you both last.
The bed makes sense now, doesn’t it?
He pushes inside you, thick, hard, full. You gasp, face burying into the comforter, legs spreading to accommodate his size. Your fingers grasp onto the sheets, nails digging into the soft fabric as he fills you up, pulls halfway out, and rocks back in.
“Fuck, Joel,” you cry, and his hips slam into yours.
“Huh?” he asks.
“Daddy,” you correct yourself, still gasping.
“Better.”
Joel pounds into you, strong grip on your waist, pulling you up and down his cock at a punishing pace. His grunts match your whines. Your hand stretches out to grab something – anything – to hold onto, to steady yourself as your body begins to collapse.
“Daddy,” you mewl again, muffled by the cotton of the sheets, like it’s the only word coming to mind. “So – fuckin’ – good.”
“Louder, baby,” he replies, groaning when you tighten around him.
You whimper. “F-fuck, daddy.”
Joel’s fingers squeeze your hips, his pace quickens even more. “Louder.”
“They’re gonna – ah – they’re gonna hear.”
“Who?” Joel asks.
He knows damn well who. You’re only separated by a thin paneled wall. You’d be fucking surprised if the flight attendants haven’t been hearing you for the last twenty minutes.
“Baby,” Joel’s voice coos as he bends forward, sweaty chest flat against your back. His lips line with your ear, his breath hot on your skin. “They get paid not to hear.”
His hips crack into yours again once, and then halt. You cry out, the sudden feeling of him in his entirety, filling you up, pushing right up against your cervix, too much to bear. Too much to be muffled by the mattress beneath you.
“Let – them,” Joel’s hips drag back, slow, leaving you empty, “hear – you.”
He thrusts forward again, painfully, and you moan. Loud. “Ah, daddy,” you cry out again, and you swear Joel’s chest rumbles behind you with a laugh.
“That’s it, good girl. Tell ‘em how good it feels.”
You feel your mind start to slip, the cabin going with it. Your eyes roll closed, your mouth falls open. The only sound escaping your lips a whine, over and over, shaped just like the word daddy, daddy, daddy.
Joel’s forehead rests on the crown of yours, his voice a soft hum at the nape of your neck.
“See? Sound way too pretty to keep quiet, darlin’.”
He’s panting, words spilling out of his mouth between gasps and grunts. Hips are snapping at a grueling pace. You reach for his wrists again, planted in the bed either side of your head, and squeeze as if it might relieve the building tension in the pit of your stomach.
But he’s going so fast, so hard, fucking you dumb. And you can feel him start to falter, when your walls hold him snug, tightening around him as you reach your high.
He cums when you do. You feel him empty inside you as you hurtle through your own orgasm, rippling bliss all around your body. You both cry out, filling the tiny room with groans of pleasure and release together.
Your hips give, fall flat to the mattress, Joel still inside, slowly rocking back and forth, pushing his cum deeper and deeper inside you.
His elbows sink into the bed at your shoulders, caging you under his body as the remnants of your highs wash away. He’s running soft, wet kisses from your neck down the top of your spine. When your body stills, the pulsing of your cunt a mere flutter, he slips out from between your legs and pushes up off of your body.
Joel collapses alongside you atop the tangle of sheets and pillows, skin sticking, bodies thrumming with energy. You roll over to lie next to him. Chests rising and falling in unison, fingers intertwining at your sides. You’re staring at the ceiling, head tilting to rest on Joel’s shoulder, and he places a soft kiss to your hair.
You glance up to look into his brown eyes, lit by the thin rays of bursting sunlight seeping through the windows. The way the light moves across him as the plane turns, brilliant rays sweeping over the horizon and reflecting every angle of his face.
When he notices you, he dips his chin, and you prop yourself up, pressing your lips to his. Joel holds your jaw softly, thumb grazing over your cheekbone. His other hand scoops around your back, holding your body close to his.
“Sleepy,” you mutter, and he nods.
“Get some rest,” he tells you, but you’re already laying your head down on his chest.
Your heavy eyes blink the jet out of view; Joel’s hand stroking your hair sends you off to sleep.
----------
You wake under the white sheets, still wrapped up in Joel’s arms, to the sound of voices on the TV. Some comedy movie. Sounds like Adam Sandler. Joel mutes it when he notices you stirring.
“Afternoon,” he mutters, voice husky.
“Hi,” you reply softly, and his hand runs through your hair. “How long was I out?”
“Only a little while. They’re probably getting ready for lunch. You want me to head out first?”
You nod, suddenly feeling ashamed…and hungry. “Yeah. ‘n can you…make sure they don’t ask?”
“They ain’t gonna ask,” he groans, laughing as you roll off his body and let him up.
You watch as he dresses himself, toned arms pulling his tee over broad shoulders; tan legs slipping back into neat jeans. He slings his jacket over his arm and bends back down over you to let you kiss him again – slow, deep. Something of a thanks, a you’re welcome, maybe. A marker, anyway. A prelude to this weekend.
And then he slips out front. You lock the door behind him and start collecting your clothes, hopping around the cabin as you pull them on.
Before you leave, you grab a hoodie from your bag, feeling a little more exposed than you did when you first boarded. You toss it over your shoulders and open the door.
“Couple more hours,” Joel tells you as you sit opposite him, propping your ankles on his lap. His hands run over your socks, brows furrowing when he notices the pattern. “Bart Simpson?”
“Comfiest socks I own. Good plane socks.”
“Alright.”
“Go on. Make fun of ‘em.”
“I didn’t say anything. You want somethin’ to eat?”
You smirk. “Sure.”
He pours you a glass of water from the metal jug on the table between you both, and one of the attendants appears as if by magic on your right.
“Got you gluten free stuff,” Joel says as you gulp at the ice water.
You almost choke. “Seriously?”
His face twists, confused. Mirroring your astonishment. “Yeah. You think I’d let you starve?”
You almost laugh before you hear it, and realize how sweet it is. You didn’t even know Joel noticed this stuff. Didn’t think it’d be on his radar.
“Thank you,” you whisper, lifting your glass to mask the blush burning across your cheeks.
Joel nods once. Then turns to the attendant and asks for a burger, side of fries, side of onion rings. “We got sweet potato fries, Len?” he asks.
“Think so,” Len replies. “Want them instead? Or both?”
Joel thinks it over for probably two seconds, before he shrugs and says, “Both. Thanks, man.”
Len turns to you, but you’re still staring at Joel. “Unbelievable,” you mutter.
Joel holds his hands out. “I’m hungry.”
You give Len a smile. “What’s…What can I have?”
“We got gluten free flour, bread, pasta, uh…garlic bread for sides, too. And a couple desserts.”
“What the f…?” You stare at Joel. “You didn’t have to–”
“Just order, baby,” Joel says, palm facing you, stopping you from going on.
“I’ll, uh…You do fried chicken?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I’ll have fried chicken, side of fries, and coleslaw, if you have it, please.”
Len nods curtly and heads back up front, leaving you and Joel on your own again. You finish your thought.
“What the fuck?”
He’s chuckling. “What?”
“You…This is…Nothing, you just…you blow my mind, every time.”
Joel shrugs, grinning. “Blow your back out, ‘n all.”
“Alright.” You snatch your ankles from his grasp – Bart’s toothy smirk slipping from between Joel’s fingers – and sit up straight, looking out of the window to the dazzling sky; bright blue on top and fluffy white clouds beneath.
Your food arrives shortly after and the pair of you eat in comfortable silence. Joel checks through his emails, you sit back in your seat with your headphones in. It’s nice, not having a phone to answer or Joel’s schedule to fix. Nicer, still, having him feet away from you, giving you all the attention you could possibly want at the drop of a hat.
You land in Paris at 10PM local time. Straight off the plane and into another sleek, black car, driven by a gray-haired, sharp-suited man named Denis whose hand Joel shakes before climbing in beside you. He slides into the leather seat and you fall against one another, your head on his shoulder. Partition wound up, though neither of you feel much like doing anything that’d require privacy. Your eyes are tired, heavy, you smell like eight hours’ worth of plane, and you’re basically salivating at the thought of collapsing into a huge, soft, clean bed.
Which is exactly what the pair of you do when you reach the hotel. You’re in some extravagant suite picked by Joel; you manage two glances around the dark place before he’s leading you by hand off to the bedroom, cases still parked at the front door.
And before you know it, you’re sinking into the plush sheets of a king-size bed, limbs entangled with Joel’s, city lights twinkling through the window into your sleep-glazed eyes as you drift off.
----------
Day breaks across Paris around seven in the morning. You wake with the blue glow of the sky, dusty pink on the horizon bleeding upward as the sun rises higher. When your eyes open and adjust to the light, you glance over Joel’s still sleeping body and notice the view behind him, split in half by the silhouette of the Eiffel Tower.
The curtains are still pulled back – neither of you noticed nor had the energy to shut them when you arrived. You’re both still in your clothes from yesterday, too. Joel managed to kick off his shoes, and you remember him pulling yours off before he fell into the bed next to you. You didn’t even sleep under the bedsheets.
You push yourself up off the bed, stretching your back and glancing around. This room is fucking nuts. Gold accented – gold handles, gold light switches, gold frames. Pretentious modern art decorating each wall, an upholstered headboard that almost touches the ceiling in front of you. Marble-topped nightstands with spotless silver lamps, glinting in the light.
You roll off of the bed, Bart Simpson socks landing on soft carpet, though his face has been awkwardly twisted around your ankle in your sleep. You shuffle off to a door on the left, leading down a small hallway – past some fancy ornate vase – to the living room: a wide, open space with the same floor-to-ceiling windows as the bedroom, looking out to the same view.
Two velvet couches sit opposite one another, a white marble coffee table sat between. Behind them, a dining table with eight chairs. Gleaming varnished wood. And then, through a couple more doors, a kitchenette with modern white cabinets, a coffee machine, a microwave.
Fucking. Nuts.
You hear Joel stirring in the bedroom and wander back through, dazed with sleep and amazement at this place. He’s rubbing his eyes when you walk in and spring down on top of him on the bed.
“Mornin’,” he grumbles, voice thick and husky. His hands fall onto your thighs, sat either side of his waist, and his eyes flutter open. “You’re energetic.”
“Have you fucking seen this place?”
“I have. Stay here every year.”
You press further into him, feeling a swell in his jeans and doing your best to ignore it.
“Can we go explore?”
“Outside?”
You nod eagerly, despite the way his face screws up.
“Baby,” he sighs, “I’m still in my damn jeans.”
“So, go shower. Get dressed.”
He’s not done protesting. “We travelled for, like, nine hours straight yesterday.”
“’n now we’re here and we ain’t here long, so let’s go do something. C’mon.”
You lace your fingers through Joel’s and pull him up toward you, sitting in his lap on the bed. He buries his face in your chest, mumbling something incoherent into the cotton of your shirt.
You giggle. “Huh? Can’t hear you.”
Joel pulls back with a sigh and rolls his eyes dramatically. “Alright,” he says, “go get ready.”
You leap off of him with a quiet squeal of glee.
As you pace around the suite, dragging your case into the bedroom, fishing some clean clothes and your toothbrush out, practically skipping into the marble-tiled shower room, Joel lays back in bed watching your every move. Smiling, eyebrows lifting with encouragement anytime you look over to him. Head resting back in the crook of his arm, sleepy eyes taking in all of your excitement.
You’re rinsing shampoo out of your hair when he slides into the shower behind you, a quick kiss to your shoulder.
“No sex,” you tell him with a pointed finger, squeezing the lemon scented gel into the palm of your hand.
“No, ma’am,” he says with a smirk, dipping his head to let you lather up the suds in his salt and pepper hair. “So, where we goin’?”
You shrug. “Wherever. Lots to do in Paris.”
“Wanna get you somethin’ nice,” he says, eyes screwed shut as he runs his head under the flow of water, “a thanks for comin’ with me.”
“I think maybe the private jet, the hotel room, plus the free trip in itself is thanks enough, Joel.”
But Joel disagrees. Heartily, apparently.
He takes your hand and helps you out of the car on a tree-lined street, tall cream buildings on either side. It looks like a movie set. You’re following Joel’s lead, spending more time craning your neck to look up at the huge, ornate windows guarded by black balconettes while he guides you across cobblestone toward the smoothly paved sidewalk.
You’re not even paying attention to where he’s taking you until you’re stood in the middle of a glistening store, plush rug under your feet, lavish chairs in the center of the room, a rainbow of fashion surrounding you.
“What…? No, Joel.”
“Hm?” he asks, eyes scanning the room. He takes a step, and you tug on his arm.
“I can’t fucking afford Gucci,” you whisper, pulling his body back against yours.
He hands you a bemused smile, eyebrows low, corners of his lips pulled. “All expenses paid, baby.”
Your arm falls limp and he drags you through the store, past mannequins in patterned gowns and silk shirts, past shelves of obnoxiously huge purses and accessories gleaming in the spotlights from above.
Your fingers stay locked around Joel’s hand, your head swiveling so much you worry it might fall off, looking from the vibrant floral wallpaper down to the spotless tiled floor, glancing politely at attendants and then dipping your head and wandering by them behind Joel.
“See anything?” he asks, turning to you at the opposite end of the store.
It’s ridiculous. This entire trip…is ridiculous, and you’ve only been here twelve hours. Following around at Joel’s heels like a puppy, watching as he clicks his fingers – no, before he even gets the chance to click his fingers – and everything and anything either of you could dream up just…happens. Right in front of you.
He won’t let up. You know him. If you tried to pull him back outside onto the street, he’d buy you something for the hell of it.
You know him. So, you decide to use that to your advantage.
“Gucci…I dunno…” you muse, squinting at him.
“Not your thing?” he asks, and he seems curious, but – you know him. You know that behind that polite mask is a smirk thick enough to make your knees wobble. He knows what you’re doing. “Where to, angel?”
You lead him out of the store. Feel his shadow behind you, watching as you thank the doorman and take a left around the corner, passing under the shade of the gently rustling trees. Arm in arm, you arrive before a huge archway, pristine windows surrounding the door to…
“Dolce & Gabbana…” Joel looks up at the stone writing atop the arch. “Alright. Classy girl.”
You giggle, pulling him past the wrought-iron fence and inside.
It’s sleeker, moodier. Less in your face. Suits you a bit better, though you can’t quite swallow back the guilt that sticks in your throat as you saunter around, Joel right behind you. It catches you when an assistant touches your arm, snapping you out of your daze, and asks if you need anything.
“No, thank you,” you reply, mirroring her smile. “Thank you.”
She nods and floats off.
Joel’s frame shells around yours, dipping his jaw to lean against your shoulder. “What about that one?” His eyes flit up to a mannequin just past a lit table of purses.
“The black one?”
“Mhm.”
“You like that?”
He repeats, a little more exaggerated: “Mhm.”
You shrug. “I do look good in black.”
“Look better in nothin’.” Joel steps forward and takes the tag between two delicate fingers, deliberately hiding it from you. He turns back, lifts his eyebrows in question. “Buy you it if you promise to wear it tonight.”
You smile. This man knows how to barter. And you take no convincing at all.
“Alright,” you accept, “deal.”
----------
Three hours later, you’re strolling down another cobbled street with an ice cream in your hand. And not much else, by the way. Joel’s taken all the shopping bags back to the hotel. He slapped your hand away when you tried to lift one of them from his clutches.
The wind sifts gently through your hair, cooling your face and neck, toying with the hem of the oversized shirt you’re wearing. It flutters the French flags overhead, red, white and blue blowing in the breeze. Cars roll by, engines humming as they weave in and out between one another, horns calling out in the distance.
Joel hadn’t let you come up to the counter to pay with him, had insisted you stay right where you were standing, and when he finished up and laced his fingers through yours, it was like a surge of energy had shot through him.
He led you out of the store and into another, and another, and another…until his hands were wrapped around, what, six bags? All carrying different components of your outfit for tonight.
And then he’d noticed the time – unlocked his phone with a curse under his breath, and kissed your temple. Midday. He was meeting Jean-Marc in an hour.
“You wanna come back with me? Chill at the hotel?” he’d asked, dialing his chauffeur’s number.
“I’m good,” you said, smiling sweetly as he squeezed your shoulder. Then, he pulled his wallet from his back pocket and handed you his card.
“’case you see anything else you want.”
“Joel,” you protested, but he’d shut you up by clicking his teeth and walking off, leaving you to follow after him, shamelessly beaming.
He’d apologized another three times before Denis had pulled up, then once more as he loaded the trunk with your bags.
“See you later. Enjoy your meeting,” you teased, laughing at the way his face twisted into a grimace as the car rolled off.
It’d been a pretty nice afternoon. You’d dipped into a couple more stores – though, without Joel to impress, the low-cut dresses and short miniskirts were somewhat less exciting.
That is, until you passed by a lingerie store. You stood outside for a second, peering by your reflection in the window to study what lay behind. Suddenly lace and satin – and the idea of Joel seeing you in them – seemed a lot more enticing.
You’d pieced together an entire getup: bra, panties, garter belt, even a pair of stockings, and a silk robe to go over the top. You handed over Joel’s card, ignoring the way your cheeks began to heat and focusing instead on how smug you felt, and skipped out of the store, bag in hand.
You’d called Denis five minutes ago to ask for a ride back to the hotel. He called you Madame, he said Nonono every time you apologized for bothering him again, and he promised he’d be there in less than ten minutes.
You pace back and forth along the curb, waiting for the shiny black Maybach to pull up. You’ve checked your phone, like, five times already, kinda hoping there’ll be a text from Joel. You swing the bag between your fingers.
A door swings open behind you, giggles filter out into the street, and you turn to see a couple bounding out of a jewelers, hand in hand. She flicks her left wrist up, tilts it in the sun. It’s hard to ignore the light bouncing off of her ring finger. You feel nauseous at the sight.
Suddenly the Parisian street dissolves, and what sweeps over in replacement is a long, empty lawn, maple trees swaying menacingly in the distance. There’s a blur of bright blue sky, sunrays bursting across your vision. Your hand comes up to shield your eyes, and there he is. There he was.
He was on the grass. You told him to stand up; his suit trousers would be stained green. He did it anyway. Trembling hands, expectant stare. You stuttered and stammered your way through a sentence fueled by shock and horror and…resentment.
And then you did it anyway, too.
The crackle of tires coming to a stop on the road in front drags your fraught gaze from the couple, now strutting off down the avenue. You reach for the door handle, but Denis is already out of the car and leaning down, hand on your back as you duck into the backseat.
----------
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bratzkoo · 2 months ago
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barely yours | mingyu pt. 5
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Author: bratzkoo | navi Pairing: rockstar! mingyu x reader Word Count: 2.6k Genre: fluff, angst, smut-ish Rating: NC-17 Possible Warnings: mingyu is not an idiot anymore. not descriptive sex but there’s sex. written in third person.
Summary: you flirt, you fuck, but when you hint that you want to be more he dismissed it as if you’re joking… and when you decide to ignore him he comes back with flowers at your doorstep.
taglist (hit me up if you wanna be added): ​@ca-clover, @junniesoleilkth , @gaslysainz , @darkerrdaze , @mansaaay , @childish-fear r , @lixisoul99 , @cherrylovescheol , @yuyu1024 , @tacolombe , @black-swan-blog27 , @tulipndtale , @xuimhao , @cookiearmy , @gyuguys , @brownbunnyb
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The opulent Grand Palais glittered under the Parisian night sky, its glass dome reflecting the stars above and the flashing cameras below. Paris Fashion Week was in full swing, and tonight's show was the most anticipated of the season. Mingyu adjusted his designer suit for the umpteenth time, still somewhat uncomfortable in the world of high fashion. But as the face of several luxury brands and with HHT's growing influence in the industry, his presence here was inevitable.
As he made his way down the red carpet, Mingyu couldn't help but feel a sense of unreality. Five years ago, he never would have imagined himself here, rubbing shoulders with the elite of the fashion world. The flashing lights and calls from photographers were familiar, but the context was all wrong. He was used to stages and concert venues, not runways and fashion shows.
"Mingyu! Over here!" "Kim Mingyu, who are you wearing tonight?" "Mingyu, is it true HHT is collaborating with Chanel for your next comeback?"
He answered the questions with practiced ease, his idol smile firmly in place. But inside, his stomach churned with anticipation. He knew she would be here tonight. Y/N. The woman he'd never quite gotten over, despite years of distance and silence.
As he entered the grand hall, Mingyu's eyes scanned the crowd. A mix of celebrities, designers, and industry insiders milled about, their chatter creating a low hum that filled the space. He nodded at a few familiar faces, exchanged pleasantries with a designer he'd worked with recently. But his attention was divided, always searching.
And then, he saw her.
Y/N stood across the room, and the sight of her knocked the breath from Mingyu's lungs. She was radiant in a sleek, black gown that shimmered with every movement, its high slit offering tantalizing glimpses of her leg. Her hair, longer than he remembered, was swept up in an elegant updo, exposing the graceful line of her neck. She was engaged in conversation with a group of admirers, her laugh carrying across the space. The sound made Mingyu's heart skip a beat, just as it had all those years ago.
For a moment, Mingyu forgot how to breathe. She was even more beautiful than he remembered, more poised, more confident. This wasn't the Y/N he'd known as HHT's manager. This was Y/N the successful entrepreneur, the fashion icon, the woman who had taken the beauty world by storm with her perfumes and skincare line.
As if sensing his gaze, Y/N looked up. Their eyes met across the crowded room, and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still. The chatter faded away, the flashing lights dimmed. There was only Y/N, her eyes wide with recognition, a small gasp escaping her perfectly painted lips.
Mingyu watched, his heart pounding, as Y/N excused herself from her group and made her way towards him. Each step she took seemed to last an eternity. He felt rooted to the spot, his pulse quickening with every click of her heels on the marble floor.
"Mingyu," she said, her voice soft but clear above the ambient chatter. "It's been a while."
Hearing her say his name again after so long sent a shiver down Mingyu's spine. He swallowed hard, trying to find his voice. "Y/N," he breathed, drinking in the sight of her. "You look... amazing."
A slight blush colored her cheeks, and Mingyu was struck by how familiar that look was. For a moment, he saw a flash of the Y/N he used to know, the one who would get flustered when he complimented her backstage after a show.
"Thank you," she said, her composure quickly returning. "You're not looking too bad yourself. I see the fashion world has embraced you."
Mingyu chuckled, running a hand through his carefully styled hair. "More like they've tolerated me. I still feel a bit out of place at these things."
"Could have fooled me," Y/N replied with a small smile. "You look like you belong here."
They fell into an awkward silence, years of unspoken words hanging between them. Mingyu's mind raced, trying to find the right thing to say. Should he mention her perfume? Ask about her business? Apologize for the years of distance?
Finally, he cleared his throat. "Congratulations on 'Solène.' It's... quite a name."
Y/N's eyes flickered with an unreadable emotion. Was it sadness? Regret? Or was he just projecting his own feelings onto her? "Thank you," she said after a moment. "I heard 'Shadow' is topping charts worldwide. Seems we're both doing well for ourselves."
The tension was palpable. Mingyu was about to speak, to say something, anything to break through the wall of politeness between them, when a waiter approached with a tray of champagne. They both reached for a glass, their fingers brushing momentarily. The touch sent a jolt of electricity through them both, and Mingyu saw Y/N's eyes widen slightly at the contact.
"To success," Y/N said, raising her glass, her voice slightly breathless.
"To old friends," Mingyu countered, clinking his glass against hers. He held her gaze as they drank, searching for any sign that she felt the same turmoil he did.
As the night wore on, Mingyu found himself gravitating towards Y/N again and again. They made small talk with other guests, posed for photos, applauded the runway shows. But always, his eyes would seek her out in the crowd, and more often than not, he'd find her looking back.
One drink led to another, and soon they found themselves slipping away from the main event, seeking a quieter spot to catch up. They ended up in a secluded balcony overlooking the Parisian skyline, the Eiffel Tower glittering in the distance.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Y/N said, leaning against the railing. The soft breeze played with a few loose strands of her hair, and Mingyu had to resist the urge to tuck them behind her ear.
"Yeah," he agreed, though his eyes were fixed on her profile rather than the view. "Beautiful."
Y/N turned to him, a knowing smile on her lips. "You're not even looking at the skyline, are you?"
Caught, Mingyu felt heat rise to his cheeks. "Can you blame me? The view right here is much more captivating."
Y/N laughed, the sound sending warmth spreading through Mingyu's chest. "Still the smooth talker, I see. Some things never change."
"Some things do," Mingyu said softly. "You've changed. You seem... happier. More confident."
Y/N's smile softened. "I am. This life, this career... it's everything I ever wanted." She paused, her eyes searching his face. "What about you, Mingyu? Are you happy?"
The question caught him off guard. Was he happy? He had fame, fortune, adoring fans. HHT was more successful than ever. But standing here with Y/N, he realized there had always been something missing.
"I thought I was," he admitted. "But seeing you again... I'm not so sure anymore."
The air between them seemed to thicken with unspoken emotions. Y/N took a step closer, close enough that Mingyu could smell her perfume – "Barely Yours," he realized with a start.
"Mingyu," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Why did we let so much time pass? Why did we stop talking?"
Mingyu's heart raced. This was it, the moment he'd both longed for and dreaded. "I don't know," he said honestly. "I guess we both got caught up in our own worlds. It was easier to focus on work than to face... whatever this is between us."
Y/N nodded, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "I've missed this," she said softly. "I've missed you."
Those words broke something in Mingyu. Without thinking, he closed the distance between them, cupping Y/N's face in his hands. "I've missed you too," he whispered. "So much."
Their lips met in a kiss that was five years in the making. It was soft at first, tentative, both of them unsure. But then Y/N's arms wound around Mingyu's neck, pulling him closer, and the kiss deepened. Years of pent-up emotion and desire poured out, leaving them both breathless and wanting more.
When they finally broke apart, Mingyu rested his forehead against Y/N's, his eyes closed as he savored the moment. "What are we doing?" he asked, his voice rough with emotion.
Y/N's fingers played with the hair at the nape of his neck, sending shivers down his spine. "I don't know," she admitted. "But I don't want to stop."
Mingyu pulled back slightly, searching her eyes. "Y/N, I-"
But she pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him. "Not here," she said. "My hotel is just around the corner. We can... talk there."
The implication in her words was clear. Mingyu swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. "Are you sure?"
Y/N nodded, her gaze steady despite the flush on her cheeks. "I've never been more sure of anything."
The walk to Y/N's hotel was a blur. Mingyu was hyper-aware of her hand in his, of the way her dress shimmered under the streetlights, of the anticipation building with each step. They barely made it into the elevator before he was kissing her again, pressing her against the mirrored wall as her hands fumbled with his tie.
As the hotel room door closed behind them, Mingyu felt his heart racing. He couldn't believe he was here, with Y/N, after all this time. The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast a warm light across her features, making her look almost ethereal.
"Y/N," he breathed, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "Are you sure about this?"
In response, Y/N stepped closer, eliminating the space between them. She placed a hand on his chest, and Mingyu was sure she could feel his heart pounding beneath her palm.
"I've never been more sure of anything," she whispered, echoing her words from earlier.
Their lips met in a kiss that was both familiar and thrillingly new. Mingyu's hands found their way to Y/N's waist, pulling her closer. The scent of her perfume enveloped him, igniting memories of stolen moments from years past.
As they made their way towards the bed, Mingyu couldn't shake the feeling of surreality. Here he was, with the woman he'd never quite gotten over, the one who had haunted his dreams and inspired countless songs. His fingers trembled slightly as he unzipped her dress, revealing smooth skin that he'd thought he'd never touch again.
"You're shaking," Y/N murmured, her eyes searching his.
Mingyu let out a shaky laugh. "I just... I can't believe this is real. That you're here, that we're..."
Y/N silenced him with another kiss, this one deeper, more urgent. "It's real," she assured him between kisses. "We're real."
As clothing fell away and they tumbled onto the bed, Mingyu took a moment to simply look at Y/N. She was even more beautiful than he remembered, her body a canvas of soft curves and elegant lines. He traced a finger along her collarbone, marveling at the way she shivered at his touch.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I've missed you so much."
Y/N's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I've missed you too, Mingyu. More than you know."
What followed was a rediscovery of each other, a dance of passion and tenderness. Mingyu kissed every inch of skin he could reach, relearning the map of Y/N's body. Her sighs and soft moans were music to his ears, more beautiful than any song he'd ever written.
As they moved together, Mingyu felt overwhelmed by the intensity of his emotions. This was more than just physical attraction; it was a reconnection of souls that had been apart for far too long. He poured years of longing, of regret, of unspoken love into every touch, every kiss.
"Y/N," he gasped as they neared their peak. "I lo-"
But she pressed a finger to his lips, shaking her head slightly. "Not now," she whispered. "Just feel."
And so he did, losing himself in the moment, in the warmth of Y/N's embrace, in the perfection of their bodies moving as one.
Afterwards, as they lay tangled in the sheets, Mingyu traced lazy patterns on Y/N's bare shoulder. The reality of what had just happened was starting to sink in, bringing with it a mix of elation and uncertainty.
"What happens now?" he asked softly, voicing the question that hung heavily in the air.
Y/N was quiet for a long moment. "I don't know," she finally admitted. "But can we... can we just have this moment? Before the real world comes crashing back in?"
Mingyu nodded, pulling her closer. As Y/N's breathing evened out and she drifted off to sleep, Mingyu remained awake, his mind racing. He knew that morning would bring complications, questions, and possibly regrets. But for now, he allowed himself to simply be, holding the woman he loved in his arms, savoring a moment he'd thought would never come again.
The next morning, sunlight streamed through the hotel room windows, rousing Mingyu from a deep sleep. For a moment, he was disoriented, but then the events of the previous night came rushing back. He turned to find Y/N still asleep beside him, her hair splayed across the pillow, her face peaceful in repose.
As he watched her sleep, a mix of emotions washed over him. Joy at their reunion, confusion about what this meant for their future, and a lingering fear that this might be nothing more than a one-night trip down memory lane. But underlying it all was a sense of rightness, as if a missing piece of himself had finally clicked back into place.
Y/N stirred, her eyes fluttering open. When she saw Mingyu, a soft smile spread across her face. "Good morning," she murmured, her voice husky with sleep.
"Good morning," he replied, his heart swelling with affection.
They lay there in silence for a moment, the weight of their actions settling over them. There was no going back now. The question was, where did they go from here?
As the bustling sounds of Paris waking up filtered through the window, Mingyu knew they had a lot to talk about. The shadows of their past and the echoes of their promises hung in the air, waiting to be addressed. But looking at Y/N, seeing the warmth in her eyes and the soft curve of her smile, Mingyu felt a surge of hope.
Whatever challenges lay ahead, whatever complications their night together might bring, Mingyu knew one thing for certain: he wasn't letting Y/N slip away again. They had been given a second chance, and this time, he was determined to get it right.
"Y/N," he said softly, reaching out to caress her cheek. "I think... I think we need to talk."
Y/N nodded, her expression turning serious. "I know. But first..." She leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. "Thank you for last night. For everything."
Mingyu loses his smile when Y/N seems to get ready to leave.
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lwyikas · 1 month ago
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Art and Passion ft Kuroo Tetsurou
" There is nothing more truly artistic than to love people"
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“Can you not look while i write?You’re distracting me”
“Rejected” he grinned while watching you take notes in your notebook. You don’t even remember if you offered him to come museum with you, but here. At least some of his perspective on works of art helps.He bends down to look at what you wrote and grimaces.
“I have endless respect for you being an art enthusiast but if people who keep history wrote like you, a third of history would not reach future generations.”He didn’t even try to suppress his giggle while commenting on your article with a serious and wise, rather convulsive manner.He adores nerve in your eyes and frowning, oh you probably want to put the notebook on his head.
“It has been proven that smart people write awful”okay maybe he’s right,But you won’t entertain him more by accepting this.
“By whom?”
“Your mo-“your little aggressive sentence was not complete with he pulling you under his arms and imprisoning you in his chest.
“I’d rather you express your love for me in a more docile way, and for God’s sake, why didn’t you complete this earlier?will we stay here until midnight?
“I didn’t bring you here by force, you can go if you’re bored”You whined while saving yourself from his arms and fixing your hair.
“No it’s late,maybe thieves will come to steal Mona Lisa after I leave? I have to be here to save my sweetie”
“You are quite a gentleman, but original Mona Lisa is in Paris”but the important one is thought, admirable.You’re gazing at him,He shakes his foot Non-stop, sighs every five minutes. You’re bored too, we need to add some color.
“We will have diputation with you about Van Gough, i need your attractive ideas follow me” your raise tone get his attention.He offers you an arm. “Care to join me ma'am?”
Your eyes are gleaming as you giving him cheering smile. “It would be my pleasure.”As you two were walking, crowd around museum was dwindling, it was impossible not to notice young girls glances at him around. You tightened grip on his arm and you couldn’t help but stealing glances from him.He’s so tall and handsome ass hell. Even if his black hair has a weird style ,it didn’t make this man less attractive, even a little bit. We won’t even talk about his hazel eyes. Be sure that it won’t be difficult to find adore in those eyes that always on you and soften with you every moment.He notices your gaze and a slight pinkness appears on his cheeks. But of course he will never give you this opportunity.
“I think this is the painting you’re talking about” He's so bad, but he does it so well. When you’re looking for something in your bag, he takes out his phone and checks the clock. 9:45. After training, he was still tired and really he wants just his bed and rest. And he was bored like shit. But he enjoys spend time with you, he wouldn’t wait 2 hours to examine ancient vases or old paintings for anyone else except you in world when he is that tired. He gets rid of his thoughts with small “yay”sound coming from you.You probably found what you were looking for.
“Couldn’t you look at these paintings on google?”
“Nooo,look there are more detailed articles about its history below, and if I did it at home, i would probably be bored, it’s fun to romance things” He smiled sincerity and scratch his arms over his head.”As you wish goody goody”
“Alright,this is ‘cafe terrace at night’, Vincent van Gogh’s painting with oil on canvas in 1888. Van Gogh used theme of the starry sky for the first time in this. Although the work, in which the night view of cafe is reflected, is generally dominated by dark colors, no shade of black color was used in the drawing.Instead, with preferred warm colors and depth of perspective, this painting is unusual for Van Gogh’s works.”You explained with excitement.
“Yes, when i look, i can definitely feel emotions.” It’s nice painting, but mixed colors, metaphors and so on, he can’t say he gets messages right.
“Really?”
“No”
“What do you see when you look at it?”
He turns back to painting and examines it.“Tables, peoples, buildings, and stars.I guess i liked starts more.The colors catch my eye, but I can’t say much in terms of emotion, it’s a peaceful picture.”he stated.
“Such wise words,you must be a work interpreter”
“I’m trying my best!”
“But you got a point, intense and contrasting shades of bright yellows and dark blue not only convey a sense of harmony, but also reflect the emotional state of the artist. The azure sky, illuminated by stars, acts as a contrast to the warm yellows of the cafe. The side-by-side collar of colors creates a dynamic tension between light and dark, reflecting the emotional complexity that often characterizes.”
“You’re very attractive when you speak wisely”
“Tetsu”
“Fine fine, there are no colors that are completely in harmony with each other, even if it took my eye at first, after what you said, it seems more compatible to me in this way. If contrasting colors were used elsewhere, it would probably be “help”, but this painting is in harmony, it is not boring and overwhelming.”He crossed his arms and nodded jokingly while explaining.
“So you’re saying when things are concordant and monotonous with each other overwhelm you?”
“Maybe,calmness and peace are good, but above all, the passion of contrasts gets me in one move.”You stopped for a second and keep going take notes of what he said.
“I would rather die of passion than boredom”
This is no longer about the painting. You can get from his gazes and tone . You both stand in silence but he can hear a lot in silence.You two look at art but there are completely different thoughts in both minds. His rough hand rubs slowly to yours.But you both won’t make a move for more.He tries not to show it, but his ears are pink.
“We can go now”
“Ha?”
“I did complete writing”You put your notebook to bag and he helped you wear your jacket.You always say that you could wear yourself , but he always tell shut up.It’s a small thing he enjoys in his own way, so you don’t find it necessary to oppose too much.
When you two out cold air hits your face. It’s already dark. God, how many hours have you been there? But the hours didn’t seem too long to you. You don’t think you’ll get a low grade from your work, but it doesn’t matter if you take it, you don’t change these memories with him for anything.
“Its awful that you finished too early, we hadn’t yet come to the part where I read love poems to you”You wouldn’t exchange his antics for anything.
“You have to rest then you can pour your love for me into serenades”
“Definitely i will”he grins and pulls you closer.Kisses your temple.You’re glad he didn’t see blushing on your cheeks or you thought he didn’t.You two walking towards bus stop.
Hand in hand.
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menlove · 2 months ago
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can you direct me to any good fics set in the hamburg days or just anything pre-beatlemania?
oooh yeah ! i loooove hamburg & early days fics so certainly :) i didn't include any paris fics in this even though it technically fits the bill of pre-beatlemania just bc that's a totally different vibe & genre of fics tbh
hamburg:
I Need My Love to Be Here
explicit. 8k. After John gets his first panic attack in Hamburg, he starts to realize that Paul might be the only person who can bring him back to himself.
Put My Heart Around the Bend
explicit. 60k. He nodded and they sat across from each other on the window sill, the clammy air from outside kissing their cheeks. John watched Paul as he lit their cigarettes, as he had done so many times before. They held eye contact, and John just knew Paul could hear how hard his heart was beating. But he wouldn't say anything. Neither of them ever said anything.
Like Love, The Archers Are Blind
explicit. 22k. He wants to push Stuart out of the way, not even with a violent yank of his collar like he sometimes imagines. Just to melt into his place like butter sliding in a pan. Have it be an effortless breath of fresh air when John looks up at him and sees it all reflected back in his eyes. It’s you. Hamburg, 1960.
Running with Scissors
explicit. bluewater9: Hannah, a smutlet idea… So just what happened AFTER John cut the clothes off that girl in Hamburg? What a conversation and, ahem, J/P consequence that must have been!
No More Situations
explicit. 14k. Set during the Hamburg years. John gets jealous of a German guy who likes Paul.
Everything's Different in Germany
explicit. 4.5k. It all feels upside down, like the door to that shop was an entrance to some parallel universe or Wonderland-like rabbit hole. He isn’t hiding under the covers with a flashlight in one hand, his throbbing cock in the other, and some meticulously-posed bird’s chest spilling over the pages and onto his lap. Instead he’s in some Hamburg back alley, the concrete chilly beneath his bum and his best mate warm by his side, while he gazes over naked men and pretends not to feel the unexpected interest in his trousers.
ageless children, animal sweat
mature. 5k.
Paul is sitting close enough to see properly, one elbow on the bartop, hand tucked beneath his chin. His eyes are beetle black and his long spidery eyelashes are twitching under the harsh club lights. It makes John sort of sick to look at him. Pale face in stark chiaroscuro, gleaming with animal sweat, Paul looks otherworldly, like something neither man nor woman. Hamburg, 1960. John and Paul go to a gay bar after a late show.
general early days:
Above Us Only Sky
teen. 1k. Nowhere to go but up.
Some Girls Will Make You Shiver
explicit. 4k. “How d’you suppose,” John said, in his normal John-voice, “how’d you think two girls go at it?”
On The Way To Work
explicit. 14k. How could Paul have so many dreams and one of them not come true? Paul and John, Hamburg and Liverpool, December 1960.
two of us (burning matches)
explicit. 6k. It won't stop raining. Paul doesn't know what his feelings are doing. John's practising his right swing. Somewhere along the way, they fuse together.
The Drainies
mature. 11k. Written for the prompt: John bullies Paul into wearing tight drainies and the result awakens something in both of them (Can also include some John vs Jim stuff since Jim didn’t approve of Paul wearing tight clothes).
Boy, You've Been A Naughty Girl
explicit. 49k. John makes Paul a bet. Paul takes him up on it. Crossdressing shenanigans and angst ensue, and ~feelings come out in the wash. 1961.
now and then (there's a fool such as i)
mature. 30k. users only. John and Paul on their trip to Caversham, Berkshire. April, 1960.
christmas lights (keep shinin' on)
mature. 12k. (prompt: paul takes john to the family christmas party in 1958) "I'd have you," Paul said, eventually, and John felt the air being knocked out of him. "If it was different. If we were different."
Come And Go With Me
mature. 94k. When two oblivious teenage boys meet for the very first time in the summer of 1957, a transcending bond to be passed on through decades to come makes its initial formation; a sanctuary, a home, a secret, a storm, a song, and a love to surpass the regular circumstances of time itself; it all starts in a city called Liverpool - but where will it take them from there?
also not to be that person but i WILL also whore out the first part of the series i'm writing w @forthlin here that's early days/getting together: i want you (every time that you're near)
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dykekingofhell · 4 months ago
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okay but the other thing (besides completely shifting armand motivations) about how the show decided to execute the armand betrayal, is that it weirdly softens louis as a character rather significantly. i remember in interviews towards the beginning of the season jacob anderson talking about how he hoped the audience would still be able to like louis after the season concluded, and yeah it's safe to say that we all still love louis, but honestly after seeing the finale, i'm surprised that was ever really a concern. the finale cut one aspect of louis that legitimately puts him a much worse light, the aspect that i thought jacob anderson was referring to. and it's the implication that in the book louis KNEW the extent to which armand was involved with claudia's execution beyond simply not preventing it while they were together and STAYED FOR YEARS.
directly from the book:
“ ‘You could have told me anything you wanted about Paris, Armand,’ I said. ‘Long before now. It wouldn’t have mattered.’ “ ‘Even that it was I who…?’ “I turned to him as he lay there looking at the sky. And I saw the extraordinary pain in his face, in his eyes. It seemed his eyes were huge, too huge, and the white face that framed them too gaunt. “ ‘That it was you who killed her? Who forced her out into that yard and locked her there?’ I asked. I smiled. ‘Don’t tell me you have been feeling pain for it all these years, not you.’
when armand attempts to "confess" to the betrayal, it's not just the louis is too depressed to have grand emotional reaction (which is also true), it's also that he wasn't the least bit surpised; he finishes armand's sentence!! it "wouldn't have mattered" because in all likelihood louis deduced this a long time ago. this is a far cry from the show where he chooses to stay with armand to spite lestat under the assumption that armand didn't direct the play and that he was simply too weak to intervene. in the book, he stays with armand partially out of apathy and an unwillingness to try living any other way after the depression onset by claudia's death hardens him, partially to punish himself out of self hatred by remaining with someone who he holds so much contempt for, and partially because he is haunted by his last interaction with claudia where he tells her that he loves armand, and claudia responds, "no doubt you do. But then again you could even love me." louis sees himself as bound to armand because he sees himself as doomed to constantly fully love (and simultaneously resent) creatures that lack humanity completely. and so he stays with armand, knowing the truth. even in this 70 year period of mourning for claudia he is selfish; wallowing in his own self hatred and pity rather than in her memory doing the very least of leaving the man that killed her. i think the finale would have worked much better for at least me, if this facet of louis had remained intact. i can imagine a version of the episode where daniel attempts a grand reveal only louis' reaction to be much more muted, and for it to be played as a confrimation of already long held suspicions which he chosen to ignore, and i think that would have gone hard.
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hypernova-writes · 16 days ago
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Stupid In Love [Sniper x Reader]
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Synopsis: Sniper loves you, and is not afraid to show it. He wants to spend the rest of his days with you.
a/n: Song fic one of two that I want to post, The next one is called in the closet~! Can you guess who it is??
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Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful There's something about your eyes Tell me these feelings are mutual 'Cause feelings are so hard to fight
Sniper didn’t really consider himself to be a romantic man. He’d been a few relationships, whooed a couple of women before. But none of that compared to how he felt whenever he was with you.
Know it's a little soon, maybe But I'd go anywhere you take me 'Long as you're calling me, baby They can all call us crazy
You were a mercenary just like him. Efficient at what you do. He was always wowed when he saw you on the battlefield in your element. You were like a jack of all trades, ready to hop in and help anyone who really and truly needed it. Whether Medic needed a little support. Scout needed someone to help him flank or Engineer needed someone to watch over his machines. You were always there.
So it shocked him when you ended up confessing your feelings to him. Him of all people. He was pretty sure you’d heard all the things the other mercs said about him. How he was cold, how he was disgusting. But once again. You looked past what they all said and took it upon yourself to get to know him. You didn’t stop until you knew just about everything about him (that he would tell you.).
Now you had him dreaming about being a family man.
He would talk about you on the phone to his parents, who were elated that their son had someone in his love life that he could depend on. And they could tell by the way that their son talked about you on the phone that he was head over heels in love.
The other mercs noticed it too.
Whenever they needed Sniper for something and he was nowhere to be found? They went straight to you.
“Hey Y/n? Have ya seen Snipes? We need him today.” “Oh! Yea i have! I’ll go get him :)”
You’re so sweet that this man could probably get a cavity from how you were. You would come padding up to his camper, knocking that special knock before entering.
“Snipey~ Baby! You’re needed for a mission.” You walk over to him and press your lips against his cheek.
It never failed to make him blush, because if he didn’t react or didn’t say anything, you would just puff out your cheeks and pout before attacking him with more kisses until you kissed his lips.
“..’lright..’lright, I hear ya sheila..”
He then tilts your chin up to place a kiss on your lips, watching as you melted into his touch. It was plenty of exchanges that made the two of you late.
It boosted his moods, he would definitely do better in whatever mission or match whenever you gave him that cute encouragement you’d like to do.
He would watch as you went off to do whatever you had to get done, he would have that giddy love sick look on his face and he knew he was absolutely whipped.
Let's get married in Vegas We don't need a guest list I don't wanna think too much Let's get matching tattoos I don't wanna think it through Baby, I'm so stupid in love
The two of you were sitting on top of his campervan, gazing up at the stars. He looked over at you as you were rambling on about something that he just nodded along to.
‘God..she’s a beaut..”
Book a flight to Paris, only one way What'd you think about sharing our last name?
“Mick. You ever think about marriage?”
That question makes him sit up as he tilts his head, he was attentive then.
“Yea..I guess i do.” “Good..Cause I was thinking of it too. How we would have ours.”
He watches as you grin at him before looking back up to the sky. “I’d like to have it under the stars..cause it reminds me of moments like these with you.
Sniper smiles softly as he pulls you over onto his chest, Kissing your forehead he nuzzles against your face.
“Of course..We’ll do whatever ya want sheila..”
Let's get straight to "I do" I don't wanna think it through Baby, I'm so stupid in love
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dawn-moths · 1 year ago
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“Show Me You Love Me With the Shape of Your Bite”
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Noe Archiviste x Female Reader
word count: 4300+
(celebrating two years of this blog, i’m back with a lil one shot for noe because the first fic i ever posted was for him. // A human’s strength is nothing compared to a vampire’s— a fact that’s always concerned Noe when it comes to being with you in such an intimate way. But, unlike how most of your own kind would warn you of, you’ve never had a reason to doubt or fear his intentions with you. Besides, as if letting him bite you on a normal basis wasn’t proof enough, even in the worst case scenario, you’ve already made it clear to Noe that you don’t necessarily mind a little pain if he’s the one causing it.)
content warning/disclaimer: 18+ content! minors dni! smut, vampires, biting/marking, blood/readers blood is drunk, reader is a bit of a masochist while Noe is apprehensive about hurting her too much, rough sex at times, size difference, dickriding, aftercare.
*ao3 mirror*
***
Ribbons of broken, silver moonlight streamed in through the gaps of the curtains, the shadows of dusk dancing across the floors, starbursts of amber and coral shimmering on the polished hardwood from the crackling fire burning low and sultry in its stoney hearth.
In the night, Paris came alive, the city lights sparkling like a sea of stars across the horizon, the constant murmur and buzz of the after-dark crowds humming through the air in a stream of noise and energy, muffled and distant from where you now lay, yet you could still imagine the intensity of it all after growing so used to being a part of the pack yourself.
Ever since meeting Noe, you’d traded rising in the early morning and twilight wind-downs for long, late nights and views of the dawn breaking on the horizon, the first muted shades of lilac and gold signaling your time to rest rather than the plum and navy of night blanketing itself across the sky like most others of your kind followed the consistent rhythm of.
You should’ve guessed after the first few times he’d suggested you meet by moonlight rather than daylight that he was afflicted with the forbidden curse— that he was a vampire— but even back then you wouldn’t have cared.
Because Noe Archiviste was as captivating and handsome as he was charming and sweet, he was gentle and kind and compassionate and everything you’d grown up being told those of his kind were not. Because, to everyone else, vampires were monsters. They were cold and cruel, ruthless and ravenous, and among the worst of them were the wolves in sheep’s clothing, using pretty words and entrancing appearances to lure in their prey before sinking their teeth in deep.
Your Noe was the sun after a summer’s rain, warm and inviting. He was a home to return to after a long day, safe and familiar. He was the first face you looked for in a crowd, his name ready to fall from your lips as those two, lilting phantom syllables rested on your tongue.
Some days, you still found yourself reluctant to call what you two shared love, only for the fact that you’d both been keeping it a secret from everyone outside yourselves. But with all the feelings you held for him on a consistent basis in mind, how could what you felt for him be anything else?
You two were far more bonded than any human couple was. Noe knew the taste of your blood after all, had committed the flavor to memory, could distinguish it by a single drop alone. And you knew the imprint of his teeth just as well, craved the way his sharp incisors found a home in your supple flesh night after night, addicted to the ivory’s sharp and satisfying sting.
“Harder—” you breathed, gently writhing under Noe’s hold on you, though with no real means of escaping him. “Harder, Noe, please—!” You gasped as his bite sunk in a fraction deeper, drawing more rivulets of ruby red from the tender spot on your shoulder, sending a quick shudder down your spine, the sensation creeping vertebrae by vertebrae until it welled into the sticky, fluttering warmth of arousal pooling in your lower belly.
As his tongue lapped at the welling beads of red, slow and gentle to savor the taste of you, you let out a broken moan, body arching to follow the heat of his mouth. Noe was always so afraid to go too far, to lose control and end up hurting you, no matter how many times you assured him you wouldn’t ask for the pain if you didn’t want it. But he also couldn’t help but give in to your requests, even if sometimes it made his stomach twist with guilt.
The moment you started making those succulent, saccharine mewling sounds of pleasure though, it was as if all of his ice-dipped remorse melted away. He could drink down your whines and moans just as easily as he could your blood, meeting your mouth for a languid, tongue-entwined kiss, letting you taste your own blood as you parted your lips to let him in.
You’d asked him before what blood tasted like to vampires, said all you could make out from the coppery flavor was the wince-inducing bitterness that had you resisting the urge to screw up your features and spit it from your mouth. So it was hard to believe him when he described it as sweet— sometimes even sickly so— with a hint of pleasant salt and the lingering undertones of something that could only be compared to addiction.
But your part of this exchange didn’t require you to enjoy the taste. For you, it was the feeling— the completely embodied sensation— of what having your blood drunk by him felt like that urged you to keep seeking out his teeth.
It was heavenly. Pure ecstasy. It made you forget why humans had spent so many centuries fearing vampires, if only for the fact that, if it weren’t for you and Noe’s special bond, he probably could’ve drained you dry and left you for dead like the legends of old warned about.
There were still plenty of vampires lurking the streets and hiding in the shadows whose hunger had gone insatiable, morphing them into greedy, voracious monsters who couldn’t see any innocent life past all that gushing red. But your Noe was different. He’d held onto his morality longer than most of his kind would ever have the will to consider, let alone succeed at, and you guessed you could consider yourself pretty lucky that you’d run into him on that first fateful night rather than someone else more sinister and selfish.
“You ok…?” Noe asked in between shallow, panting breaths, his hands splayed on either side of your head as he gazed down at you, lips stained red and shining with your shared saliva, the tip of his tongue darting out to catch the fading crimson that remained. The next thing you felt was his palm, warm, now that his energy had been replenished from your blood, cradling your cheek. You lay underneath him, back sinking into the mattress and eyes closed as his shadow blanketed over your bare form, allowing yourself to drift off into the serenity that often followed Noe’s feedings.
You felt safe. Held. Comforted by his presence and by the fact that, during this act, you were two becoming one in a way few would ever know or understand.
Letting him drink from you often came after sex. It allowed a euphoric extension on the galaxy of pleasure that Noe’s body could coax from yours. It also ensured that he didn’t have too much strength to unleash upon your fragile human form, his pace slow and sensual as he buried himself deeper and deeper into you. But sometimes, like tonight, when he indulged in a feeding beforehand, well…
You knew you were going to be in for one hell of a ride.
“Maybe I took too much this time…” Noe muttered to himself in a low, worried tone as you felt the bed shift around you, your eyes fluttering open to watch as he changed position, carefully lifting your limp figure up to drape and rest against his chest before leaning back against the barrier of pillows that lined the headboard. He was carding his long fingers through your lightly tousled hair, mumbling sporadic thoughts under his breath under the false pretense that you’d drifted off to sleep. You thought you heard him say something about stopping there for the night, not wanting to push you past your limits.
That was enough to jolt you back to consciousness, just enough to stir in his grasp and breathe out a weak and airy, “Noe…” on account of still recovering from your recent blood loss. You lifted your head slightly to meet his eyes, which had now been leeched of their glowing, crimson color and turned back to calming lavender on account of his appetite being satisfied. You gave him a feeble, tired smile and said, “It’s ok… I’m ok. I can keep going…”
The vampire considered you for a moment. He knew you had a habit of pushing yourself, but before he could think on it too long, you were taking his face in your hands and luring him back to you with one of those adorable, delicate little giggles. “Noe, come on…” you reassured him with a smile, devotion sparkling in your eyes, “You know I trust you more than anyone else. Plus, even if you do hurt me a little bit…” You paused, feeling your cheeks heat before admitting what you were about to next, despite having done it several times to him already. “Even if you do hurt me, I don’t mind. I… like the pain, remember?”
Beckoning him closer to you now, letting him lay his head against your chest and cradling your arms around him like he was the delicate one, like he was the one worth worrying about and protecting, you carded your little fingers through his snowy locks of hair and softly spoke to him, telling him again that you trusted him, how you loved him, and as the words left your mouth you knew them to be true, no hesitation in the confession you’d been so afraid to acknowledge prior.
Noe could’ve sunk so far into the comfort you gave him he would’ve drowned in it, finding he was never as soft and sentimental with anyone else as when he was with you. He never allowed himself to let his guard down to such a level, for a moment forgetting that, outside of this room, you two were widely considered to be enemies— hunter and prey, a monster and a girl.
He sometimes used to wonder if he’d ever find someone he could love who would also love him in return, before meeting you. And what was a luckier, more divine thing than to have your own angel to hold? To have someone who thought and cared about you as much as you thought and cared about them?
“Alright…” Noe mumbled, his cheek pressed to your chest, listening to your beating heart, counting out each gentle drum of the steady rhythm. As he lifted his head to meet your tired, half-lidded gaze, he said, “But I need you to promise me one thing…” Rising further to sit up, the two of you across from one another, bodies bare and on display for each other to see, to have, to hold, Noe’s words dripped with earnesty as he said, “If things start to go too far, I need you to tell me.”
“Noe, I—”
But he cut you off, cupping your cheek in his palm. “I know we’ve talked about this before, but I also know you haven’t always been completely honest with me about it.” You resisted the urge to swallow down the lump of guilt that had curled up in your throat, unable to deny his concerned accusation. Softly stroking his thumb along your jaw, so feathery light you could barely feel it, he set his lilac gaze on your neck where his bite had already begun to bruise and scab over, now a deep shade of wine. He said, “It’s been a while since I— since we’ve done this after a feeding…”
He didn’t need to explain any further. You knew exactly what he was so worried about now— the fact that, last time he drank beforehand and not after, it had resulted in you with tears streaming down your face and several more bites and bruises to paint your skin while he’d been blinded by the carnality of it all. You’d barely been able to walk the next day, feeling like something inside of you had been broken beyond repair, and even though you’d tried to assure him you would be ok, deep down there had been some fear sparked in you.
The pain he’d caused you that night had surpassed the fine line of the sugar-coated, thorny pleasure that you craved and ended up as injury instead.
Noe had said he’d never allow himself to partake in your blood before sex again, though, after months of trying to convince him not every time had to be like that first one and that, while you couldn’t necessarily erase the memory, you could help fix it by replacing it with something better, you’d gotten him to come around.
“I promise,” you told him, reaching forward to take his hand. He laced his fingers with yours, careful even in that act, as if each new touch he bestowed upon you from now until morning held the risk of breaking his own vow. “If it gets to be too much, I’ll tell you.”
You felt relief when his lips twitched into a soft, dreamy grin, the expression there and then gone in an instant, becoming entranced with the way your little hand fit together with his, palms pressed together and creating more shared warmth, Noe able to feel your pulse through your skin and noting the way it was picking up speed a little as he placed his other hand on your knee and gave a gentle squeeze.
It was you who leaned in to kiss him then, catching him off guard for a moment until he followed your cue and allowed himself to melt back into you, the hand on your knee sliding up to rest on your bare thigh, kneading the plush flesh there, slow and savoring, as you combed your fingers through his hair and sighed into his mouth, your core already coiling again in tiny, tight little pulses as his fingers grew closer to brushing up against where you were already slick and waiting.
A tender, broken moan spilled from your mouth as his first finger slipped inside, testing your tightness and comfort before adding in a second and curling at his knuckles, causing you to arch your back and slide further down to lay flat for him, spreading your legs wider as he slowly scissored his digits inside of you, biting back his own moan when he felt your hole clenching around what was inside harder the more he stretched you.
He caught his bottom lip on one of his fangs, vehemently reminding himself to stay in control, don’t go too far, don’t hurt her as his own arousal pulsed thick and eager through his veins, that familiar sharp pang of adrenaline already beginning to surge.
He was starting to remember now— how hard it had been to stop once he’d started— and the thought made his stomach churn for a whole other reason. But you were right. This time didn’t have to be like the last. It wouldn’t be. He’d make sure of it.
Once he’d prepped you enough to take him, Noe began to line himself up with your entrance, feeling his own cock twitch in his hand as he caught sight of the glistening beads that drooled from your cunt, asking you if you were ok before nudging in the tip, pausing when you momentarily winced, only continuing when you nodded at him to signal it was alright for him to keep going.
And, god, you loved how you could feel every single vein and ridge of him as he carved out a home inside of you, the velvety flesh of his cock massaging every part of your insides like it had been designed to do so, both your bodies devoted and destined to learn each other in this way long before you’d even met. The sweet sting of him splitting you in two made your tummy tighten and flutter, your pussy squeezing around the length of him just enough to give a teasing taste of what he already expected was to come.
His breathing was soon beginning to pick up speed, Noe hoping to hide just how much you were affecting him already as he forced out even, shuddering huffs, hunching over you while he tried not to let himself go completely, no matter how badly he wanted to right now.
It made him remember something else he’d almost forgotten about that last time— just how much better you felt when he was inside you after he’d been replenished by your blood, all his senses alive, every nerve alight with the heightened vitality that he gained from a recent feeding. It’s what made this all so dangerous in the first place.
“It’s ok…” you assured him, your own chest moving with the shallow, panting breaths of anticipation as you remedied your prior words with, “I’m ok. I trust you…”
Noe wanted to believe he could trust himself too. And as he felt the animalistic urgency within him simmer a little, he figured it was alright to start moving.
As much as it killed him to go so slow, he forced himself to hold out, gradually rolling his hips to meet yours, your voices moaning in tandem, creating a lilting melody of pleasure with each inch he drove deeper into you and every constricting squeeze of your cunt around his cock.
“Harder—” you were telling him again, the request cracking with a breathy whine as you felt him brush against your cervix, sharp jolts sparking through your abdomen followed by the slow, syrupy drip of pleasure that ran thick through your blood. You felt Noe hesitate for a moment, but when you twisted your fingers through his silky white hair and gave a tug, he snapped his hips forward hard enough to shove you a few inches up the bed. A small yelp emitted from you, clipped with a satisfied mewl, and you loosened your fist in his hair, tenderly stroking the back of his neck, playing with the wispy tufts at the base of his skull as you whispered out, “That’s it… Just like that…”
Noe had to pin your wrists down then, find some way to keep you anchored as he prepared to pound into you harder, though not yet with the rigorous speed you both knew he was capable of. And when you asked him to bite you again, well…
That time, Noe just couldn’t tell you no.
Sinking his teeth into your unmarked shoulder and feeling the skin break, more of your warm, sticky blood flooding into his mouth, Noe drank down gulp after gulp in rapid succession. This made him forget to mind his strength for a moment, and as you fell more slack under his hold, lulled by the euphoria of having your blood drunk by him for the second time that night, he nearly lost you.
He came back to his senses just in time, his saliva filled mouth pulling away from the new bite with a glittering strand of diluted reddish-pink bowing and snapping back onto the crook between your neck and shoulder.
He was partially horrified with himself, and for a moment wondered if he’d finally gone too far, past the point of no return, but was able to exhale a sigh of relief when you fluttered open your tired, bleary eyes and your shallow breathing registered to his sensitive hearing.
“I don’t think I can do this…” the vampire admitted under his breath, sounding disappointed in himself as he pulled out of you and used the pad of his thumb to swipe up a drop of red that was slowly dripping down towards your collar bones, shamelessly licking it away before casting you a quick, guilty glance. “I’m going to hurt you again. I know I am. I—”
Trying to prop yourself up onto your elbows in a way that was less than graceful, to say the least, you blinked the blood loss from your vision until Noe came back into focus. After a few minutes the swaying sensation of lightheadedness abated and you were able to roll yourself over, laying on your stomach as you stared at him sitting on the edge of the bed and looking stressed and conflicted.
You might’ve been able to call it a night, if not for the fact that you were still burning up inside with the need to release all this pent up arousal, so you decided to try approaching things from a different angle.
“Hey…” You lightly ran your fingertips along his spine, watching his back muscles flex as he turned partially to glance over his shoulder at you. “Lay down.”
Noe was already beginning to apologize, though for what exactly, you weren’t sure— as far as you were concerned, he’d done nothing wrong other than stop before letting you come— but you pressed a finger to his lips before he could finish his spoken atonement. 
You had him right where you wanted him— right where you needed him now. “Stop talking,” you said, climbing atop him once he was laying flat on his back, straddling him as you took his face in both your palms, his hands quickly reaching for your hips to help steady you when you began to sway slightly, still not fully recovered from the blood loss.
You were staring at him, desperately searching all that alluring lavender for any sign that he understood, and he was staring back at you as if he were being touched by god, completely enraptured by the gentle light in your eyes alone. “Let me take care of you,” you murmured, the moment of revelation drifting away. “You always do such a good job at taking care of me…” Taking his still hard cock in your hand, a small smirk curving on your lips when you felt him slightly tense beneath you, his stomach flinching, you lined it up with your entrance once more. “It’s my turn now.”
Noe let out a stuttering breath of ecstasy as you sunk down on him, both of you needing less time to catch your breath now but no less urgent in your need for each other. And as you began to grind your hips down on him, your clit rubbing hard against his pelvic bone every time you rolled forward and making your eyes tip to the back of your head, Noe kept a firm grip on your hips, helping to pull you down further onto his cock every time you lifted off again.
The glowing illumination of the midnight moon drenched your silhouette as you rode him, Noe admiring the way the light shone on your dewy skin, pretty tits bouncing as you began to pick up speed, your head thrown back, neck exposed and mouth hanging open with silent ecstasy as you approached closer and closer to the edge.
Noe was close too, beginning to buck his hips up into you to match your rhythm towards the end, still so strong even when he wasn’t trying that hard, making your toes curl as you twisted the bed sheets tight in your fists, hunching over him as your trembling legs felt like they were about to give out, thighs burning from the exertion and sweat gathering in the crooks of your folded knees, a new, high-pitched moan tumbling from your throat with each thrust.
And, god, when you both came at the same time, you swore you saw spots of heaven blinking in your vision, falling forward to drape yourself over him completely, squeezing every last drop from him as his cock spurt thick ropes of cum inside of you, enough to ooze out of your abused little hole and drip in thick, creamy dollops back onto him where you two remained connected until Noe mustered up enough strength to take your limp form in his arms and carefully sit up just enough to pull out of you, keeping you cradled against his warm chest until you actually did doze off.
Gently setting you aside, pulling a sheet across your naked body to shield you from the chill while he went to fetch a damp, warm washcloth to clean you up with, Noe was haunted by the fact that, for as many times as you two had been together before, it had never been quite as good as that.
Haunted, only for the fact that it had still been a dangerous risk to take. Yet still, a risk he had a feeling he’d be unable to talk you out of taking again.
He noted the various bruises speckled about your body as he cleaned you, dark blotches in the shape of his fingertips where they’d dug into your hips, more scattered across your thighs, your wrists, around the bites on both sides of your shoulders and along your neck where he’d branded you with hickies he hadn’t even remembered deciding to mark you with.
After leaving to fix himself up and returning again, Noe checked your pulse, two fingers pressed softly to the side of your neck, just to make sure his worst fear hadn’t come to pass. He flinched minutely when your little hand reached up to cup his, a sated smile spread across your lips, eyes still closed as you muttered out, “See… told you I’d be ok…”
Noe’s grin was a little more incredulous than anything, but as he gently stroked the side of your head, smoothing back some strands of tousled hair from your sweet face he adored gazing upon so much, he was just glad that you were alright this time around.
Curling up beside you, pressing a chaste peck to your forehead, Noe told you he loved you through a tired, dreamy sigh. Only then did you open your eyes, pupils dilated to swallow the color of your irises in the dark, and whispered back to him, like a promise, like a prayer, “I love you too…” After that, all you could remember was the darkness of encroaching unconsciousness and the familiar, comforting heat of his body entangled with yours, asleep and safe in each other’s arms at the end of another unforgettable night.
***
(Hello and thank you so much for reading! I really can’t believe it’s already been two years since I made this blog and started writing/posting fanfiction. Time really flies huh?
Anway, I’d like to take this time to give a big thank you to everyone who follows me, reads my work, and takes the time to leave likes or nice comments. It really makes my day :)
I look forward to being able to share the fics I have in the works going forward with you all. Hope you have a wonderful day and remember to be kind to yourself <3)
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hotvintagepoll · 8 months ago
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Propaganda
Eleanor Parker (Scaramouche, The Sound of Music)— Eulogized as a ravishing beauty whose looks were merely ornamental to her craft, feast your eyes on Eleanor Parker. Listen! I know you're thinking of the Baroness in Sound of Music and saying NO I won't protect the woman who tried to steal him from Maria but forget about that (like you personally wouldn't shoot your shot with Plummer)! The trailer for Scaramouche describes her character Lenore as "The glamourous queen of the nightlife of Paris. A flame-haired wildcat" and this is a woman who was able to pull off that role, and you get the vibe she was like that irl too. There's a story about her changing hair colors that never fails to make me laugh. Take note of her stunning eyes! Her amazing legs! And to see her in motion is to make note of the aura about her, she has an amazing presence. Fall in love with Eleanor Parker today, and make your vote count!
Audrey Hepburn (My Fair Lady, Sabrina, Roman Holiday)—Growing up, Audrey Hepburn desperately wanting to be a professional ballerina, but she was starved during WWII and couldn't pursue her dream due to the effects of malnourishment. After she was cast in Roman Holiday, she skyrocketed to fame, and appeared in classics like My Fair Lady and Breakfast at Tiffany's. She's gorgeous, and mixes humor and class in all of her performances. After the majority of her acting career came to close, she became a UNICEF ambassador.
This is round 3 of the tournament. (yes I know it says round 2 in the poll. sometimes I post these when I’m sleepy.) All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.
[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]
Eleanor Parker:
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“When I’m spotted somewhere, it means that my characterizations haven’t covered up Eleanor Parker the person. I prefer it the other way around.” So shy she was actively nervous about winning awards in person, her personal life remains mostly behind the scenes. But on screen? she was a force majeure. It's a shame the role most people remember her in is the Baroness in The Sound of Music, but then again, it did make Christopher Plummer reminisce upon her passing “I was sure she was enchanted and would live forever.”
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Listen we all know Christopher Plummer and Julie Andrews had insane chemistry but the Baroness deserves some love too! She has such a glamorous presence but not in a hard way
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She will be known as the fabulous baroness in TSOM, but she was so much more than that. Just as comfortable in westerns or melodrama, the scheming other woman, and the beauty that wins the heart of every man in town.
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Audrey Hepburn propaganda:
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"She may be a wispy, thin little thing, but when you see that girl, you know you're really in the presence of something. In that league there's only ever been Garbo, and the other Hepburn, and maybe Bergman. It's a rare quality, but boy, do you know when you've found it." - Billy Wilder
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Raised money for the resistance in nazi occupied Hungary. Became a humanitarian after retiring. Two very sexy things to do!
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where to begin......... i wont her so bad. i literally dont know what to say.
My dude. The big doe eyes, the cheekbones, the voice. The flawless way she carried herself. She was never in a movie where she wasn't drop dead gorgeous. Oh, also the fact she raised funds against the Nazis doing BALLET and she won the Presidential Medal of Freedom for her humanitarian work.
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"It’s as if she dropped out of the sky into the ’50s, half wood-nymph, half princess, and then disappeared in her golden coach, wearing her glass slippers and leaving no footprints." - Molly Haskell
"All I want for Christmas is to make another movie with Audrey Hepburn." - Cary Grant
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I know people nowadays are probably sick of seeing her with all the beauty and fashion merch around that depicts her and/or Marilyn Monroe but she is considered a classic Hollywood beauty for a reason. Ironically in her day she was more of the alternative beauty when compared to many of her contemporaries. She always came off with such elegance and grace, and she was so charming. Apparently she was a delight to work with considering how many of her co-stars had wonderful things to say about her. Outside of her beauty and acting ability she was immensely kind. She helped raise funds for the Dutch resistance during WWII by putting on underground dance performances as well as volunteering at hospitals and other small things to help the resistance. During her Hollywood career and later years she worked with UNICEF a lot. Just an all around beautiful person both inside and out.
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No one could wear clothes in this era like she could. She was every major designer's favorite star and as such her films are time capsules of high fashion at the time. But beyond that, she had such an elegance in her screen presence that belied a broad range of ability. From a naive princess, to a confused widow, to a loving and mischievous daughter, she could play it all.
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Look at that woman's neck. Don't you want to bite it?
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xhanisai · 8 months ago
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the stupid chat blanc au
Fu only gives out the Ladybug miraculous and chooses Marinette to become the hero of the city.
Le Papillon only akumatises one person and it's Adrien (who becomes Chat Blanc)
During the first akumatisation to not only bait Ladybug out into the open but also to show Paris how dangerous he can be, Le Papillon ordered Chat Blanc to cause some mass destruction.
It didn't work. For some reason, Le Papillon can't control Chat Blanc nor see through his eyes so all he could do was get out of hiding and find the boy.
Chat Blanc did wreak havoc. He vandalised all the Gabriel-related adverts, threw eggs at the front of his stores, chased after pigeons, inhaled twenty 16" pizzas by himself and so on.
He also got bored so he tested his powers on the Eiffel Tower by picking it up and shooting it into the sky.
It crashed into the moon. He didn't mean to do that.
Ladybug accidentally crashes into him similar to origins and that's how they meet. He calls her Maladroit and she's telling him off for destroying the moon, making him whine.
"It was an accident!!!"
"So fix it!"
"I don't know how!"
Ladybug is overwhelmed. There's news that the world is starting to flood because of the damaged moon, she has no idea how to use her powers, she wasn't so keen on being a hero and Chat Blanc is just an overall menace who is no help whatsoever.
She tried to run away and give the earrings away to Alya. However, throughout the whole time when she was at school, she noted how stressed and scared everyone was about the inevitable flood and Chat Blanc.
Marinette also noticed Chat Blanc lingering by the school, looking really lonely. It was then she realised that he looked like he was their age and he probably had no one to rely on. She wondered about the boy under the mask. Maybe...he just wanted a friend?
The city is flooded much faster than everyone anticipated and even Alya got caught up in it. Le Papillon also makes his entrance and he tries to force Chat Blanc into listening to him. Marinette notes the Akuma in visible pain from Le Papillon trying to control him so she suits up and kicks his ass.
She dispels Le Papillon's butterflies, uses Lucky charm, purifies Chat Blanc (all whilst giving him an encouraging smile to show he's safe with her), and uses her cleansing powers.
An amnesiac Adrien watches Ladybug with awe as she delivers her speech to Paris. He falls in love and when she holds his hands and tells him that she'll always try her best to protect him from le Papillon's clutches, he starts internally planning their future wedding.
"I'll try my best to be supportive if I get akumatised again. I promise! I don't want to hurt you."
"Ouais, Chaton~"
Ladybug notes that Adrien is really cute and finds his bashfulness very endearing.
Marinette didn't expect him to join their school (Gabriel was oddly compliant to finally let Adrien go to public school, looking guilty for some reason HMmMMM????).
The gum incident does happen but it's the rest of the class who are very uncomfortable with him despite his attempts to stop Chloe's pranks (who was also lowkey starting to bully him cos "ew adrichou you're a mangy cat now"). It's because he was akumatised that they were wary of him.
Only Marinette knew that he was actually not a bad person. So with Alya's encouragement, Marinette stands up for him in front of the class and reiterates that le Papillon took advantage of Adrien and turned him into a villain.
Nino is the first to step up after that and becomes Adrien's best friend.
The class decide to give him a chance too and towards the end of school, they decide they all really like Adrien. He's just a silly cat.
After school, Adrien waits for Marinette to come out of the building and gives her this heartwarming, cute thank you. He offers her his umbrella and doesn't realise he's also won over her heart. She falls for him.
After all of this, because Gabriel is a perfectionist, he only akumatises Adrien. He wants to try and be able to form the link with him. He akumatises him every time even if it's at the slightest of inconveniences. Be it that they ran out of milk in the kitchen or he accidentally bit the inside of his mouth or that he tripped over his chair, Adrien will get akumatised.
Chat Blanc has a playful relationship with Ladybug. He really likes her but at the same time, he doesn't like having to co-operate and loves being a menace.
"Here, minou, minou, minou!"
"Let me chase after those people in peace!"
"No! That's not very nice!"
"But they did it to that small kid first!"
"...Okay. But you can't just threaten to make them bald and shoot cataclysms at them!"
"BOOOOOOOOOO."
Blanc is also very flirty with Ladybug but she doesn't take him seriously because he ends up growing a liking to her civilian persona too and is just as flirty (Ladybug refuses to acknowledge she's low-key jealous of her own self and Tikki is tired of this shit).
He's more aware of his feelings as Adrien, madly in love with Ladybug and desperate to be closer with Marinette because she's so cool, right??!?
He can remember some things that happened when he was akumatised after he gets purified and often gets embarrassed. He gets all flustered and apologises to Ladybug but she always laughs it off and pats his head and calls him cute nicknames.
Sometimes she stutters like Marinette and Adrien finds it so both endearing and worrying. Hopefully, he doesn't intimidate them both.
He's close friends with Nino, Alya and Marinette. Often they're there every time he gets akumatised. As Chat Blanc, he never tries to pull pranks on them or do mean things. He's extra protective of them.
Alya finds it really funny and interesting how chummy Chat Blanc can get with Marinette and Ladybug.
As Chat Blanc, he has all his memories of being Adrien but his intrusive actions and thoughts are much stronger. (Like a goofy, terrible villain Chat Noir.)
The more Ladybug gets to know him, the more she realises how hard Adrien's life actually is and the things he's been through. So she tries her best to be a very good friend and look after him.
Le Papillon finally manages to create a link between him and Chat Blanc, however it turns out that all along the Akuma has been erasing the link with his infinite destruction.
"Finally! I can reach you, Chat Blanc-"
"Sup, old man."
"Now, you will listen to me and retrieve Ladybug's earrings-"
"Byeeeeeee~"
"NO WAIT PLEASE-"
Le Papillon tries to entice Blanc with offers and promises but it never works. The only time he got close was when he offered him all the fatty tuna he could ever dream of...
Le Papillon realises that using Chat Blanc wouldn't work. But he didn't want to akumatise anyone else because Chat Blanc was just the perfect Akuma and AAAAAAA. So, Mayura steps in.
The first Sentimonstre causes serious harm and almost takes Ladybug out of commission. So Chat Blanc stepped in to save her and he wasn't very happy >:D
And that's it for now~
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marcyvamp1re-blog · 4 days ago
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Adding in to the Xavier and Erik thing, could we get a Drabble of them together? What if the reader argues with them in the middle of the night?
BIRDCAGE.
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Sinopsis. You couldn't have friends, you couldn't go out, you couldn't break the routines, you couldn't use your powers... So, what were you supposed to do?! Why did they have to hold you like that, as if you were a danger? Why did they keep you in that prison of rules, not letting you be who you really are? Didn't you deserve more than being under their control, living in fear of doing what you truly wanted?
pairing ── Yandere Charles Xavier x Raven!reader x Yandere! Erik Lehnsherr (Platonic Fic)
Content. MDNI ── Dark themes, violence, mention of death, teenage reader (14-15), quick mention of Quicksilver, discussion, blood, insolation, invasion of privacy, delusion, Angst, ¿OOC Xavier and Magneto? Idk, fight, Disturbing Content, Unhealthy Obsession, Gaslight, Mental Illness, mind invasion, inappropriate use of powers, mention of Trigon, Corruption, Isolation, Paranoia, Manipulation.
A/N ── English is not my first language—Spanish — I'm not sure if this counts as a drabble, but it's pretty short. I hope this is something like what you were expecting. It took me a while to finish because I was in Paris, hehe.
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You walked quickly and silently, the sound of your footsteps barely interrupted by the night wind that caressed your face. The Arcade, with its flickering lights and distant laughter, was already behind you, but the feeling of the evening lingered like an echo, a scrap of joy that you couldn't let go. Quicksilver, or Pietro, your friend, the only one they had allowed you to have, had been by your side the entire time, a constant presence amid the bright lights and deep shadows of the amusement park. It had been an out-of-place evening, one you had never imagined enjoying.
The watch on your wrist, already turned off for hours, displayed a time that didn't match reality. The wind had begun to cool, and the streetlights, those that had always accompanied you on your lonely nights, seemed an unnecessary reminder that something had been lost. You had forgotten the time. You had forgotten that at this hour, your guardians, those you could never call parents, were waiting at home, in that stillness that so often suffocated you. The bedtime story, that ritual of which you never felt a part, should have already faded in their voices. But no. Anxiety remained, the hurried pace evident in every gesture they made to calm you down. There was no time left. And you knew it.
"I must go back," you thought, and for a moment, you wished the sky would open up, that time could stop.
Upon arriving home, you slid the door open with the same caution that had accompanied you for the past few years, as if every noise, every misstep, could awaken the accumulated fury on the faces of those you considered your guardians and active parental figures. The house was silent, a heavy silence that foreshadowed something bad. The living room, once a refuge of calm, now seemed a trap of unresolved tensions.
As you passed in front of the open door of the living room, you saw them. Erik, in the center of the room, was tense, as if every muscle in his body was on the brink of exploding. His face, so familiar for its hardness, was marked by a fierce expression, a repressed rage that needed no words to be understood. You felt a knot in your stomach. It was the anger he usually reserved for those who dared to challenge him. "Where have you been?" his voice came out raspy, laden with frustration but retaining the authority that characterized him.
Beside him, Charles Xavier, the other pillar of your life, was leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on the floor as if avoiding facing you. Disappointment emanated from his presence like an invisible weight, much heavier than Erik's fury. "Little one..." he said softly, but that softness only made his reproach feel deeper, like an abyss. "Do you know what time it is?"
You didn't respond immediately. Guilt flooded you, but you hurried to keep your facade intact, the same control you always tried to impose on your surroundings. It was too late for explanations. Only the weight of your decisions remained, the glow of the Arcade lights still in your eyes, and the feeling that, for once, the night you had unexpectedly enjoyed was crumbling in its safest place.
The tension in the room grew, palpable like a dense fog. You took a deep breath, your eyes fixed on Erik, who had already begun to pace back and forth, his fury hard to contain. "I'm not a child, and you have no right to treat me as such!" you exclaimed, your voice louder than you intended, but the rage contained the words. "I want freedom! I want to decide what I do with my life! I don't need you to protect me all the time!"
Erik shot you a piercing look, the magnetism around him vibrating strongly. "You are still a child. And until you can understand the gravity of your decisions, I will treat you as such. And that includes not seeing Pietro," he said, his tone sharp and final. "If you dare to see him again, I will ensure you never set foot outside this house again and that he loses what he so enjoys boasting about."
You felt a chill run down your spine, but the fury did not leave you. "You are not my father! No one has the right to decide for me!"
Charles Xavier, until that moment silent, let out a sigh of disappointment. "It's for your own good, little girl," he said, the softness of his voice only aggravating the feeling of helplessness. "You will not leave this house until further notice. You need time to reflect on your bad actions and learn to control your temper towards your parents." His words, filled with a paternal but distant love, caused a deep pain in you.
You couldn't take it anymore. Rage overwhelmed you, and your powers manifested uncontrollably. Shadows began to crawl from the corners of the room, rising like dark tendrils towards the walls. "You will not confine me! You will not control me!" you shouted, the shadows wrapping around your hands as you manipulated them in an attempt to express your frustration.
Erik did not hesitate, extending his arm and manipulating the nearby metal, ready to stop you. Charles, however, only looked at you with sadness, knowing that this confrontation was just the beginning of a larger battle between them.
The room was engulfed in chaos, the shadows swirling around you like furious serpents, as your powers spiraled out of control. Erik, tense and ready to act, watched cautiously, but it was Charles who acted, with a grave, almost sad expression. He didn't want to do it, but he knew there was no other option.
"Little Raven," he said calmly, his voice overflowing with unyielding authority. "You must understand that we are not trying to control you, only to protect you. You know what happens when you let those emotions take control."
You looked at him with eyes filled with rage, your breathing heavy. You didn't want to listen, you didn't want to yield. And yet, Charles' presence in your mind began to grow, like a dense fog surrounding you.
"Don't you dare invade my mind!" you screamed, but it was too late. His eyes briefly shone with a purple flash, and in that instant, Charles took advantage of his ability to penetrate your consciousness.
Images of your progenitor overwhelmed you, rapid and overwhelming. Your father, the ancient demon, his grotesque face and infernal eyes filled your mind with palpable horror. The screams, the voices of pain, the images of destruction and chaos took over your thoughts. The fear you had always kept in check overflowed like a torrent. The abyss he represented seemed so close, so real, that you felt an unbearable pressure in your chest.
"Stop!" you screamed in horror, your knees buckling as you fell to the floor, struggling to free yourself from the images that tormented you. "I don't want to see it! I don't want to feel it!"
Charles, with his mind still anchored in yours, maintained the contact, his tone now softer but firm. "What he can do, what he has done to you, is part of what you must control. We are here to help you not become like him. And we will not allow anyone to interfere."
The shadows in the room slowly dissipated, but the echo of the visions continued to resonate in your mind. Your eyes, now glassy, reflected the internal struggle you could not win.
Erik approached, watching his adopted daughter with a mix of concern and disgust. "We did it for your own good, child. So you understand what is at stake."
But Erik's words barely penetrated your pain-clouded mind. You couldn't stop seeing Trigon's eyes, that gaze so filled with power and destruction.
You fell to the ground, your legs giving way under the weight of the visions still flooding your mind. The air around you seemed to thicken, and the pressure in your chest left you breathless. Your pale face reflected the terror you had just experienced, with eyes wide open and empty, unable to process what you had just seen.
It was Erik who, in a swift and firm motion, lifted you into his arms, the physical contact of his imposing figure and the magnetic energy of his presence sending a strange vibration through your young body. The weight of his gaze left no room for doubt: he was in control.
"Calm down, daughter," Erik murmured in a grave voice, a whisper that contrasted with his usual demeanor. But there was something unsettling in his tone, a softness that sounded like a veiled threat. "We love you, little Raven. We always have."
Charles Xavier's voice joined the scene, his tone soft and controlled, but his words filled with a weight he could not disguise. "It's time to sleep, little one. It's time for the bedtime story... It's what you need, what we have always done for you."
Erik carried you to the living room, where the low lights and tranquil atmosphere offered a false sense of peace. The two men settled you on the couch, and as Charles approached you, the shadow of his telepathic power floated over the room like an invisible fog.
"Sleep now, dear. The story is about to begin," Charles whispered as Erik sat beside you, his hand resting on your shoulder with a firmness you could not reject. They both watched you with such immense attention, so intensely protective, that you couldn't help but feel trapped in an invisible web, with no way out.
The light flickered slightly, as if the place itself shared a collective fear, and although calm seemed to envelop you, you couldn't stop thinking about the echoes of your own fear. In what had been done to make you forget.
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chic-a-gigot · 6 months ago
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La Mode nationale, no. 24, 11 juin 1904, Paris. 1. Corsage de dîner pour jeune femme ou jeune fille. 2. Corsage de réunion pour jeune femme ou jeune fille. 3. Corsage léger pour jeune femme ou jeune fille. Bibliothèque nationale de France
(1.) Corsage de dîner pour jeune femme ou jeune fille. Très simple par lui-même, en toile de soie soufre, ce corsage prend tout son cachet du col très riche qui l'accompagne; ce col est en mousseline incrustée de très belle dentelle, et volanté de mousseline ourlée de dentelle; le volant est monté au col par une rivière de jours. Haut de corsage en mousseline plissée. Le poignet pareil au col.
(1.) Dinner corsage for young woman or girl. Very simple in itself, in sulfur silk canvas, this bodice takes all its character from the very rich collar that accompanies it; this collar is in muslin inlaid with very beautiful lace, and ruffled in muslin hemmed with lace; the ruffle is mounted on the pass by a river of days. Pleated chiffon bodice top. The wrist is the same as the collar.
Matériaux: 4 mètres de toile de soie.
(2.) Corsage de réunion pour jeune femme ou jeune fille, en louisine ivoire montée à fronces serrées autour d'un riche empiècement de guipure sur lequel un fin galon de soie brodée dessine des dents. L'encolure est froncée, le devant est un gros pli boutonné. Les fronces prennent le haut de la manche dont le bouffant se resserre dans un poignet pareil à l'empiècement.
(2.) Reunion bodice for a young woman or young girl, in ivory louisine mounted with tight gathers around a rich guipure yoke on which a fine braid of embroidered silk outlines teeth. The neckline is gathered, the front is a large buttoned pleat. The gathers take up the top of the sleeve, the bouffant of which tightens into a cuff similar to the yoke.
Matériaux: 4 mètres louisine.
(3.) Corsage léger pour jeune femme ou jeune fille, en mousseline blanche très claire, rayé en diagonale d'entre-deux de dentelle jaunie. Des entre-deux plus larges soulignent l'encolure, dessinent un empiècement rond, se croisent au haut de la manche et sur le poignet. Sous ces entre-deux est posé en transparent un ruban de la teinte qui plait: ciel, rose roi, citron, mandarine, etc. Cravate-plastron en liberty du même ton que le ruban choisi.
(3.) Light bodice for a young woman or girl, in very light white muslin, diagonally striped with yellowed lace in between. Wider inserts highlight the neckline, create a round yoke, and cross at the top of the sleeve and on the wrist. Under these spacers is placed a transparent ribbon of the shade you like: sky, royal pink, lemon, tangerine, etc. Liberty bib tie in the same tone as the chosen ribbon.
Matériaux: 2 mètres de mousseline blanche.
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