#and maybe; then; I can finally start to like him a little more (okay; let's not go that far now)

[wendysimp]

Secrets Out! Ep.2 (Leaked?)

Karina X Male Reader (Slight appearance by Aespa)

Tags: TitFucking, Ball sucking, Deepthroat, Spitting, Teasing, Videotaping, Quickie

~~ Be Sure to read Episode 1 here!

(3rd Person POV)

~ In the girls locker room

“You’re lying. That guy is a total loser.”

“Yeah, and a dick that big? It just doesn’t sound real.”

“I-I think he’s really cute.”

“Of course you think that Ning. But I’m serious! He just fucked Seulgi unnie and Wendy unnie in the backseat of the car!”

“His own step sister?!” The three of the girls were in complete shock with what they just heard.

A moment earlier before their chat, Karina drags her friends into the locker room to tell them about what she had just discovered in the parking lot. You, Seulgi and your own step sister Wendy having a threesome in the backseat.

“Yes! His own step sister!” Karina pulls out her phone. “Here look at this!”

She taps the play button, letting the video play for the girls to watch. Their eyes widened as they watch Wendy riding your cock while Seulgi rides your face.

“H-He’s actually fucking her.” Giselle spoke.

“Seulgi unnie is riding his face.” Winter followed up.

“Y/n’s… big cock.” Ning bites her lip making the girls look at her.

“Ning!” They all say, but she didn’t care and grabs the phone, skipping ahead of the video till it showed Wendy and Seulgi giving you a sloppy blowjob while recording themselves.

“Look! S-Such a big… fat… cock.” They all look back at the video, this time they put their focus on your dick.

The length, the thickness. They start to feel hungry. Hungry for your cock as they keep on watching. Karina starts to feel her panties getting soaked once again.

“F-Fuck! Again?” She bites her lip and looks down. The girls look at her and laugh.

“You’re getting wet huh?” Giselle teased.

“N-no! Shut up!” She defended herself but couldn’t hold back the blush.

“It’s okay if you are,” Winter chuckles softly. “I am too, I can’t lie.”

“Eww!” Giselle scoffed. “Let’s head back to class.” She grabs her bag as Winter and NingNing follow.

“I’ll be with you guys in a bit… I need to find Y/n and have a taste of him myself.” Karina whispered the last part to herself. They nodded and head to class.

Meanwhile, Karina was searching through the halls and all over the school, trying not to get caught to look for you but had no luck.

“Where could he be?” She thinks but then had an idea of where you could be. “Got it! The library! That nerd usually goes there at this time to do work.”

She quickly makes her way to the library, searching every section then finally spots you in the corner. She smirks wildly, knowing this was gonna be a perfect time. She walks up to you, taps your shoulder which makes you slowly turn your head.

“Hey nerd.” She says trying not to draw attention with the people around by staying as quiet as possible.

You sighed. “What do you want Karina? I’m busy doing my work.”

She sits next to you. “Well that can wait. I need to speak to you about something.”

“Get it over with already. I don’t like to be disturbed.” You put your attention back to your school work.

“Geez, calm down nerd. Look, I’m not gonna waste time here so let me just ask you something.” She looks at you. Thoughts of the video running through her mind.

“I’m not gonna do your homework for you.”

“It’s not about that idiot! It’s about something else.” She hits your arm.

“First off, ouch! And second, what could you possibly need from me?” You were curious. She would usually approach you about doing her homework or try to annoy you.

“It’s just a simple request.” She smirked which kinda creeped you out a little.

“Okay? What’s up?” You asked while she leans closer, your heart starts pounding. Is she about to kiss you?

“Can I maybe see… your cock?” She whispered. You froze up after her sudden request, the pen in your hand drops straight down to the floor.

“M-My what now?” You gulped. Did you hear correctly?

“Come on Y/n, you heard me.” She whispered more in a seductive tone while placing a hand on your thigh. She’s crazy you thought to yourself.

“N-No, are you crazy! I’m not showing you my stuff, that shit is weird!” You say trying not to be so loud.

“Oh that’s weird?” She smirks and takes her phone out. “Is it more weird that you fuck your own step sister.” She shows the video of you and your stomach drops.

“H-How did you get… delete that!” You try to take her phone but you were too slow. She giggled and teased you some more.

“Nope! You either show me your cock… or I will leak this video out and people will see how weird YOU really are.” She threatened.

This is fucked! You couldn’t figure out what to do. You can’t have that video getting leaked!

“Okay fine.” Those words make Karina’s smirk grow even bigger. This girl is crazy! I mean… she’s kinda hot but that’s not the point.

“That wasn’t so hard was it?” She teased you more.

“Shut up and let’s get this over with.” You get up, looking around, making sure no one’s around. “We gotta be quiet and be careful.” You whispered.

You undo your belt while Karina watches, biting her lip as she couldn’t wait for the grand reveal. You bring your hands down to the waistband of your pants, then slowly pull them down until…

*Slap*

Your dick sprung out, landing right on her face. She gasped at the size of your cock as it rests across her face.

“Oh… m-my… fucking… god.” You can feel her breath just between your balls and under your shaft sending shivers down your spine.

The scene was kinda hot. Actually, really hot! She grabs onto your dick, slowly stroking it while she was still amazed by the length and the feel.

“I-I thought you just wanted to see only.” You groan as you grip the table.

“You like this don’t you?” She completely ignored your words.

“Y-Yes.” You didn’t want to give in. But man it was so damn hard.

“I can see why even your step sister would fuck you. She’s very lucky I should say.” She giggled as she keeps stroking you before planting a kiss on your tip which was enough to make your knees weak.

“F-Fuck Karina!” You moan quietly, leaning your head back.”

Without any warning, she puts your cock into her mouth. Her soft moans vibrate around your shaft while your body tenses up. She takes you inch by inch trying to get use to your size.

“Mmm… so… big.” She slurped then pulls away. She spits onto your cock and strokes you making sure you’re completely soaked. “You like that nerd?”

At this point you couldn’t take it. You tangled your fingers in her hair and push her back down on your cock, making her bob up and down your wet cock.

“Just shut up and keep sucking bitch.” You groan as you make her deepthroat your dick, causing her to gag a little.

Instead of resisting, she let you do it. It was almost like she was allowing you to do that. Her saliva mixed with your pre cum drip down towards your balls. You pull her off your dick as you griped onto her hair.

“You fucking nerd,” She tries to catch her breath as she looks up at you. “Making me choke on your big, fat cock.”

“Don’t act like you didn’t like it.” You smirked as you smack your dick against her cheeks.

“I didn’t like it… I fucking loved it!” She sticks her tongue out and grabs your hard shaft to slap your tip onto it.

You groan out in pleasure as you watch her go down and suck on your balls while your cock is resting across her face.

“F-Fuck yes suck those balls.” Your eyes trail down and you bite your lip.

She pulls away. “Looking at my tits huh?” She looks down then back up at you. “You fucking perv. You think about my tits don’t you?”

“I would be lying if I said no.” Karina rolled her eyes.

“Mind telling me what you think about perv?” Her hands continue to stroke you.

“What your tits feel like in between my dick.” You grip her hair as she places more kisses all over your dick.

Karina was satisfied with your answer, and it only made her feel hotter. She takes her hands off your cock and moves back a little, taking off her hoodie.

“It’s only fair I show you my tits.” She pulls her pink crop top off, dropping it on the floor.

You look as your jaw drops. Her cleavage on display as her bra holds her big breasts together. Every little movement she makes, they bounce and jiggle around. You felt like you were being hypnotised.

Karina laughs as you stare for what felt like hours. “Look at you. You wanna see these tits huh?” She teased playing with the straps of her bra.

“Fuck yes.” You say almost instantly.

She takes off her bra, taking her time so she can tease and make you want more. Her big, soft tits are finally out, waiting to feel your touch.

(Y/n’s POV)

I lick my lips, reaching my hands over as I get a good grip on Karina’s tits. So fucking soft, so fucking big. She moans softly as she feels my touch.

“You like them?” She smirked, looking up at me.

“They’re amazing.” She smiles more at my answer while I keep playing with her melons. You then pull her onto your lap as you wanted to get a closer look.

“Ohh look at you,” She giggled. “Addicted already?” She teased.

“Maybe.” You dive in, rubbing your face in between her tits as she squirmed a little while holding you close.

I keep playing with her tits until she pushed me back against the chair, getting off my lap and onto her knees. She grabs onto my shaft and slaps the head against her tits.

“Mmm you like that daddy?” She looks into your eyes, turning you on with the way she addressed me.

It’s funny how Karina went from being a bitch towards me, to wanting more of my cock and calling me daddy. It just doesn’t seem real but I’m not complaining.

“I love it baby.” I grinned.

I can tell when I called her that it turned her on as she puts me between her tits and lets her spit drip down and onto my tip. She tightens the grip on my dick with her huge jugs, moving up and down slowly.

I moan softly. “Oh fuck, Karina! Your tits feel so fucking good!”

“I’m glad you like them daddy.” She winked.

I watch as my cock pops in and out between her tits before Karina sticks her tongue out, licking my tip every time she was close enough to lick it.

“Y-You’re gonna make me cum Karina!” I groan out.

“Cum for me daddy! Cum all over my tits.” She bites her lip as she was in desperate need of my cream.

She moves faster, she grips tighter while I grip the chair as I feel the sensation from her tits.

“I’m c-close baby.” I lean my head back.

I felt her reach for something and I look down as I see her phone in her hand.

“Would you mind recording? I wanna send this to my girls.” She asked with an innocent yet naughty smile.

“D-Don’t they hate me?” I grunt.

“After I send them the video, they won’t.” She hands me the phone. “Come on, please?”

Was it a good idea? What about the video she has of me, Wendy and Seulgi? I’m sure she can keep it a secret right? Ah fuck it!

“Fine.” I take the phone and start to record her cupping her tits together.

“Thank you daddy.” She smirks and moans sexily then shortly looks into the camera after waving a little. “Hey girls! His dick is so much bigger in person than on video.” She spits down on my cock again.

Did she… show them the video? Oh god. Let’s just hope nothing spreads around. I gotta be careful.

“Ahh fuck! Keep moving those big tits.” I groan.

“Mmm you like that daddy?” She breathed, moving more seductively.

“I love it baby. Keep going, you’re doing amazing.” I stroke her cheek. I guess Karina loves the way I praise her by the way she looked at me with a grin.

“I want your cream daddy!” She moves faster and faster. I was getting close, I tried to keep the phone as steady as I could but it was a little difficult.

“Y-You want it? Fucking take it!” You groan trying to stay as quiet as possible. The sound of her melons slapping against me.

I shoot my first load, making a mess all over her tits.

“O-Oh fuck! So much daddy! I-I… oh my!” Another load right across her cheek and around her mouth. “Fuck! This is the best load ever!” She smiles, gathering some of my cum from her tits before seductively sucking her fingers.

“You like the taste of daddy’s cum baby?” I smirked as I try to catch my breath. This view of Karina was fucking amazing to see.

“You taste so good daddy. I might want more.” She winks at you then looks at the camera. “Sorry girls, maybe I’ll invite you next time.” She wanted to tease them. She blows a kiss then grabs her phone.

“Soo, there’s a next time?” I bite your lip.

“Maybe.” She looks at me and grins again. She cleans herself up with some wipes she had in her bag before cleaning my cock with her mouth. “God you taste so good Y/n.” She kisses your tip.

I moan softly and smile and the both of us fix ourselves up, putting back our clothes that we had taken off.

“You’re not gonna leak the video right?” I asked.

“Mmm…” my heart was pounding. I can’t have this video get leaked. If my parents see it, they will flip out. Especially my mom! “I won’t.”

You let out a sigh. “Thank you.” I tell her and she smiles while sending the video to her friends. “You single?” You push your luck.

“No Y/n!” She glares at me. “You might have a chance though.” She moves close to me.

“Oh I’m gonna make you mine, just wait and see.” I pull her close. Both of our faces inches away.

“I like your confidence Y/n.” She looks into my eyes.

“Will you let me kiss you?” I whispered then see her face as she blushed.

“I don’t know try it.” She challenged. I lean in and kiss her deeply and passionately as I held her hips. She returned the passion back and moves her hand behind my head.

We pull away, out of breath as we were smiling like idiots. She’s really a whole fucking package.

“I guess I’ll see you around nerd.” She giggled and bites her lip softly.

I roll my eyes playfully. “Still calling me that huh? What happened to daddy?” I teased and she blushed, hitting my arm. “I’m kidding, I’ll see you around Karina.”

We both exchanged numbers and we both go our separate ways. Man I really am a lucky guy.

(3rd Person POV)

*Ding*

A girl takes out her phone during class, turning it on without alerting the teacher. She opens the link as it takes her to a video that shouldn’t be seen. She gasps quietly.

“W-What the fuck?! Is that Y/n?!”

End Of Ep.2

To be continued!

A little short but I’ll try to make them a bit longer. Hope you guys enjoyed this one. You guys can also help with this series by suggesting ideas and idols you want to see, so be free to send me a dm or inbox me!☺️

[chrisstvrns]

𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐦𝐞: 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 | 𝐜.𝐬.

warnings: unresolved angst, secret pregnancy, breakup, abandonment, decision of being a single mother, please let me know if i missed anything! 

word count: 3,333

part one | part two | part three | part four

oh, you were so excited. since you were a little girl you dreamed of being a mother. and when you started dating chris six years ago, you knew you wanted him to be there with you. you wanted to grow old with him, raise kids with him and watch your grandchildren grow up.

and now here you were, standing on the front porch of chris’ childhood home in boston, barely standing still as you anxiously yet excitedly fiddle with your rings. buried deep in your spacecamp wellness tote bag was the biggest secret, that in this moment, nobody besides you and God knew of. 

you had texted chris, telling him that you needed to talk. within seconds, he answered, agreeing with you. you didnt know what he needed to talk about, but you had to tell him. 

you knock on the door, the door immediately being opened by chris, who had a serious look on his face. you reach for his hands, gently taking them in yours. 

he gives you a weak smile, pulling you close as he kisses your forehead, leading you inside. you walk into the living room, flashing nick and matt a quickly smile as they hurry out of the room, odd looks on their faces as they leave you and chris alone to talk in the now quiet house, since his parents had gone out. 

“okay, so. i need to tell you something.” you reach for chris, who ignores your reaching arms, sitting next to you, a bit of a distance between you as he buries his face in his hands. 

you knew how he was. when chris got like this—quiet, tense, distant—it meant something was weighing heavy on his heart. something he’d been thinking about for a long time, probably rehearsing how to say it in his mind for days, if not weeks. your chest tightened as you watched him, his elbows propped on his knees, fingers threading through his hair like he was trying to steady himself.  

"chris?" your voice came out softer than you expected, your excitement from moments ago quickly being replaced by a gnawing pit of dread. you reached out again, but he didn't look at you. his silence said more than words ever could.  

he sighed, dropping his hands and finally meeting your eyes, and that look—God, that look—hit you like a punch to the stomach. his eyes, usually so warm and full of love, were clouded with guilt and something else you couldn’t quite place. regret, maybe.  

"i—" he started, then stopped, his jaw tightening. "i don’t even know how to say this." his voice cracked on the last word, and you could feel the tears welling up in your own eyes, unbidden, your throat tightening in response.  

"chris, just say it. whatever it is, we can figure it out, okay?" you tried to sound steady, but your voice wavered, betraying the panic clawing at your chest.  

he shook his head, leaning back and running his hands through his hair again. "i don’t think we can figure this out. that’s the thing," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.  

your stomach dropped.  

"what... what are you talking about?" you asked, even though you already knew. you needed him to say it, to rip the band-aid off, even if it would tear you apart.  

he looked at you then, really looked at you, and the pain in his eyes was almost unbearable. "i can’t do this anymore," he said finally, his words deliberate, each one cutting deeper than the last.  

your hands fell into your lap, your heart shattering into a million pieces. "what do you mean? you... you can’t do us anymore?"  

chris nodded, swallowing hard. "i’ve been thinking about this for a while," he admitted, his voice raw. "and i hate myself for it, but... i think it’s better if we end things now before we hurt each other more."  

"hurt each other?" you echoed, your voice trembling. "chris, what are you even saying? we’re not hurting each other. i love you."  

"and i love you too," he said quickly, his voice breaking. "but sometimes love isn’t enough. i feel like i’m holding you back, like i can’t give you what you deserve. you deserve someone who... who’s better at all of this than i am."  

you shook your head, tears streaming down your face. "that’s not true. you’re everything to me. why are you doing this?"  

he reached for your hand then, and you almost pulled away, but you couldn’t. even now, even as he was breaking your heart, you craved his touch.  

"because i don’t want to be the reason you lose yourself," he said, his voice steady now, like he’d convinced himself that this was the right thing to do. "i’ve seen it happen before, and i can’t let it happen to you. i love you too much for that."  

you opened your mouth to argue, to tell him he was wrong, that this was a mistake, but the words wouldn’t come. deep down, you could see that his mind was made up. the stubbornness that you loved about him was now the thing that would tear you apart.  

chris stood, his hand lingering on yours for a moment before he pulled away. "i’m so sorry," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "you have no idea how much this hurts me."  

“chris, stop. you.. you cant do this, not now..” you whisper, youre heart breaking as he stands up, beginning to walk away.

you softly chase after him, reaching for his arms, tearing streaming down your face. he faces you, gently taking your hands in his. 

“i love you, baby. so much. but im doing this because i love you. i see the hate you get from my fans, and it kills me. it kills me so fucking much knowing that i cant do anything to stop it, no matter how many things i say to them. "and that's why i can't let this keep happening," chris said, his voice cracking as he looked down at your hands in his, his thumbs brushing over your trembling fingers. "you don’t deserve any of this. you don’t deserve to feel like you have to fight for your place in my life. none of it’s fair to you."

your chest tightened, and the tears that had been threatening to fall finally spilled over. "but chris, i don’t care about any of that. the fans, the hate, the comments... none of it matters to me. you’re what matters. you’re the only thing that’s ever mattered."

he let out a sharp breath, his jaw tightening as he tried to hold back his own tears. "but it should matter, baby. you say it doesn’t, but i see it. i see how it wears on you. you’ve stopped posting your art, stopped sharing the things you love because you’re scared of what they’ll say. i see how you smile less. and i can’t... i can’t live with knowing that i’m the reason for that."

"you’re not the reason for it," you argued, your voice desperate, shaking. "those people don’t even know me, chris. they’re just looking for someone to blame because they can’t have you for themselves. that’s not on you. that’s on them."

he shook his head, his grip on your hands tightening. "it doesn’t matter if it’s on them. it’s still happening because of me. and the longer we stay together, the worse it’ll get. you think it’s bad now? it’s only going to get harder. i can’t stand the thought of you going through that for me."

you felt your knees weaken, like the weight of his words was pressing down on you, suffocating you. "but don’t you see, chris? you’re worth it. we’re worth it. i don’t care how hard it gets, i’ll fight for us. i’ll fight every single day if it means i get to keep you."

his eyes glistened with unshed tears as he looked at you, his expression torn between love and heartbreak. "and that’s what kills me the most," he whispered. "you shouldn’t have to fight for us. love isn’t supposed to be like this. it’s supposed to be easy, and safe, and full of joy. and i... i can’t give you that right now. not the way you deserve."

"you’re wrong," you said, your voice barely audible, your heart breaking with every word. "love is worth fighting for. you’re worth fighting for."

he gently starts walking you toward the door, the fight to not cry visible on his face "you don’t understand, baby. this is me fighting for you. this is me trying to protect you from everything that comes with loving me. i don’t want you to look back in a few years and resent me for all the pain you went through just to be with me."

"i could never resent you," you said, your voice firm despite the tears streaming down your face. "never. you’re everything to me, chris. please, don’t do this. don’t throw us away because of something we can get through together."

he closed his eyes, his head bowing like he couldn’t stand to see the pain in your eyes anymore. "i’ve already made up my mind," he said softly, and those words hit you like a knife to the chest. "this is the hardest thing i’ve ever had to do, but i’m doing it because i love you. because i want you to be happy, even if it’s not with me."

"you are my happiness," you cried, your voice breaking. "don’t you get that? you’re all i need."

"and you’re all i’ll ever love," he said, his voice heavy with finality. "but sometimes love isn’t enough."

he leaned in and kissed your forehead one last time, his lips lingering there as though he was trying to memorize this moment, to etch it into his memory forever. when he pulled away, you saw the tears streaming down his face, and it shattered you even more.

"i love you. im sorry" he whispered, his voice trembling as he softly pushed you out of his front door, his heart heavy with regret 

you stood there, frozen, your entire world crumbling around you as you watched him slam the door in your face. your hand instinctively went to your tote bag, clutching it like it was the only thing tethering you to reality. the secret you had been so excited to share—the little piece of him you were carrying, the piece of both of you—was now a weight you didn’t know how to bear alone.

"chris," you called out one last time, your voice a broken sob as you hoped he’d open the door again "please. the baby.." you whispered, your voice barely audible, a plea that hung heavy in the air.

but he didn’t say come back. he didnt open the door. you heard his footsteps get farther away, meaning hes going up to his bedroom, leaving you alone with nothing but memories of the past six years, the echo of his absence, and the secret you hadn’t been able to tell him. 

you stood there, staring at the door that had just closed in your face, your breath caught somewhere between a sob and a gasp. the cold, boston air of january nipped at your cheeks, but it didn’t register. all you could focus on was the weight in your chest, the ache that had settled there as you stared at the house in front of you.  

chris’ house. the house where it all began.  

your eyes drifted to the porch below you, the same porch where you’d sat together as kids, eating popsicles in the summer and talking about everything from your favorite cartoons to your wildest dreams. you remembered how he’d teased you about the way you always peeled the wrappers off your popsicle sticks, how his laughter had filled the air and wrapped around you like the warmest embrace.  

your gaze lingered on the window to the living room. you could almost see the two of you, years ago, sprawled out on the couch with a bowl of popcorn between you, arguing over which movie to watch. he always let you pick in the end, even when he pretended not to care about the cheesy rom-coms you loved so much.  

and the backyard… God, the backyard. you could still picture the two of you running around barefoot, him chasing you with water balloons until you tripped and fell into the grass, laughing so hard your stomach hurt. it was in that backyard where he’d kissed you for the first time, his lips brushing against yours so softly you thought you might’ve imagined it. but you didn’t. it had been real. and it had been everything.  

now, those memories felt like ghosts, haunting you as you stood there, clutching your tote bag like it was the only thing keeping you from falling apart completely. how could he do this? how could he shut the door on everything you’d built together? on all the years, all the love, all the promises whispered under the stars?  

your eyes drifted to his bedroom window, and your heart clenched. you remembered sneaking in and out of that room, climbing the trellis late at night when you just couldn’t stand being apart for another second. the way he’d pull you into his arms the moment you made it inside, his voice low as he whispered, “you’re crazy for doing this, you know that?” but his smile always told you he didn’t mean it.  

now, the window was dark. no light, no sign of him. just an empty, hollow void where he used to be.  

you took a shaky breath, your hand instinctively going to your stomach as the weight of your secret pressed down on you. how could you have been so excited just moments ago? how could you have thought this was going to be the happiest day of your life, when now it felt like your world was ending?  

tears blurred your vision, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move. you stood there, rooted to the spot, as if leaving would somehow mean letting go of everything. of him. of the life you’d imagined together.  

your mind replayed his words over and over, each one cutting deeper than the last. “i can’t do this anymore… you deserve better… this is me fighting for you…”  

you wanted to scream, to bang on the door until he opened it and let you in. until he saw that you were still standing there, ready to fight for him, for you, for everything you’d built. but you knew it wouldn’t change anything. his mind was made up.  

and so you stayed, your feet frozen to the porch as you stared at the house that held every memory you’d ever shared with him. the house that had once felt like home.  

but now, it felt like a stranger’s. cold, distant, and unreachable. just like him. 

yet, back in the house, chris was a wreck. he broke up with you. he was sitting on his couch, face buried in his hands as nick makes his way back downstairs 

“did you.. do it?” nick asks, sitting next to his brother. 

chris couldn’t bring himself to lift his head. his hands trembled as they covered his face, tears streaming through his fingers. he nodded weakly, barely able to get the words out.  

“yeah,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “i did it.”  

nick let out a low breath, leaning back against the couch as he crossed his arms. he didn’t say anything right away, just studied his brother with a mix of pity and frustration.  

“and how do you feel now?” nick finally asked, his voice cautious, careful not to push too hard.  

chris shook his head, his hands dropping to his lap as he stared blankly at the coffee table. “like shit,” he admitted, his voice raw. “like i just ripped my own heart out.”  

nick frowned, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “then why’d you do it? if it’s tearing you up this much, why push her away?”  

chris sighed, dragging his hands through his hair. “because she deserves better,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “she deserves a life without the hate, without the constant pressure of being with someone like me. she says she’s fine, but i see it, nick. i see how it’s breaking her, and i can’t… i can’t keep doing that to her.”  

nick studied him for a moment, his brows furrowing. “and you think this is what’s best for her?”  

“yeah,” chris said, though his voice wavered, as if he wasn’t entirely sure himself. “i mean.. it has to be. right?”  

nick sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “look, man, i get it. you think you’re protecting her, and maybe you are in some ways. but breaking her heart? breaking your own heart? that doesn’t sound like protection to me. it sounds like you’re running away.”  

“i’m not running away,” chris snapped, his voice rising before he quickly deflated, his shoulders slumping. “i’m not. i just.. i love her too much to keep putting her through this. i don’t want her to hate me one day because of all the shit that comes with being with me.”  

nick tilted his head, his expression softening. “and what if she never would? what if she meant it when she said you’re worth it?”  

chris shook his head, his eyes welling up with tears again. “it doesn’t matter. i made my decision. it’s done.”  

nick leaned back, letting out a long breath as he watched his brother unravel in front of him. “you’re stubborn as hell, you know that? but you’re also an idiot.”  

“thanks, nick,” chris muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm.  

“no, seriously,” nick said, leaning forward again. “you’re sitting here, miserable as hell, and she’s probably out there feeling the same way. and for what? because you think you know what’s best for her? maybe—just maybe—you should’ve let her decide that for herself.”  

chris didn’t respond, his jaw tightening as he stared at the floor. nick sighed, standing up and giving his brother a pat on the shoulder.  

“you’re gonna regret this, chris,” nick said quietly, his voice laced with a mix of sympathy and frustration. “and when you do, I hope it’s not too late to fix it.”  

nick walked away, leaving chris alone on the couch, the silence of the house pressing down on him like a weight. he sat there for what felt like hours, replaying the moment he’d closed the door in your face, the sound of your voice—broken, desperate—echoing in his mind.  

“please. the baby…” 

the words hit him like a freight train, and he shot up from the couch, his heart racing.  

“the baby?” he whispered to himself, his mind scrambling to make sense of it. had he heard you right? had you really said…  

panic set in as the realization washed over him. if what you said was true, then he hadn’t just broken your heart—he’d walked away from something so much bigger, so much more important.  

without thinking, chris grabbed his keys and bolted out the door, his chest heaving as he searched the street for any sign of you. but you were gone.  

“damn it,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair as he paced the porch. he needed to find you. he needed to know if what you said was true, to explain himself, to tell you he’d made a mistake—a huge, life-altering mistake.  

but deep down, he feared it was already too late. 

he goes back into the house, now pacing his kitchen, periodically sipping from a can of pepsi. 

“could’ve jus’.. yeah, she could’ve just been callin’ me ‘baby’, i mean, she always did.. shes not.. theres no way, she cant be..” he rambles, running his hand through his hair, his whole body nearly shaking. 

you? you were already back home, crying your eyes out in bed as you held the test in your hand. were you really going to raise this baby on your own?

────────────୨ৎ────────────

a/n: nearly threw up writing this

- aurora ᯓ✮⋆˙

find other parts of this series here

likes and reblogs are always greatly appreciated! ੈ✩‧₊˚

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⋆˙⟡ tags: @lvrsturniolo @marrykisskilled @mattscoquette @emely9274 @wh0remikasas @mattsstarlet @pvssychicken @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @jvngle18 @sturns-mermaid @mattslolita @lolastrniolo @55sturn @oliviasthatgirl @hannahsturns @dykes4chris @y3sterdaysproblem @bernardsbendystraws

[usercelestial]

What if Evan Buckley decides fuck it I quit my job because nothing makes me happy anymore and opens a bakery and then Tommy starts ordering pastries from him for the 217 and they finally reconcile after buck makes him the best damn chocolate muffins Tommy's ever eaten

Tommy's been ordering from this bakery for the last five years. After he was promoted to captain of the 217, he made it a point to bring in treats to win over his old coworkers turned employees. He orders a couple dozen muffins once every week to keep people happy. Originally, it was supposed to be one time but goddamn if they weren't the best damn muffins Tommy's ever had. His crew was happy enough with the incentive and it became somewhat of a tradition at Harbor that a delivery boy would show up at their door with a few pristine white boxes to hand over to Captain Kinard. 

Five years and he's never had a problem getting the pastries delivered on time. Early in the morning of the day of delivery, before the sun even came up, he got an email explaining that his delivery had been cancelled and a refund had been processed. 

"Shit," Tommy wipes the sleep from his eyes and sits up. He has to get to work in a few hours and he knows his crew well enough to know how cranky they'd be if they had nothing to start the morning with. He fumbles out of bed, throws on his clothes, and heads down to the bakery to see what he can do. 

It's a little place not too far from Harbor. It's called something like Emergency Eats, it has a cliche first responder theme. First responders get a 15 percent off discount with each order so the weekly spending makes it a little worth it. 

Tommy rushes inside, the sun barely having risen and the cold morning air settling on his skin. The bakery is light and warm around him. It feels like one of those places someone would call home. The decor stays true to the theme and centers firefighters. On the wall behind the counter, there's a mural of a fire station. Along the wall in the dining area, there are pictures of different first responders. He recognizes Athena in one and smiles to himself. The tiles are black and white checkered and there's even a fire pole standing next to the counter. He walks up to it and rings the gaudy bell that hangs from the ceiling that says “pull for service” despite the immense amount of cringe he feels while doing it. 

“Be right there!” 

Oh. 

Oh no. 

He knows that voice. He’s spent five years thinking about this voice, dreaming about it, being haunted by it. He’s spent five years feeling terrified of hearing it on the radio, at an emergency, on the street. 

Evan Buckley walks through the curtain that covers the entrance to the kitchen, holding a tray of pink and white colored cookies. 

“Oh fuck,” Buck’s face goes ghostly white and his knuckles strain to keep grip on the tray. 

The room is still and quiet in the soft morning glow. The black and white tiles are painted with the delicate shadows casted from the trees lining the sidewalk. The two men breathe the same air and let the shock wash over them. 

Tommy isn’t allowed to break the silence first. He relinquished that right when he walked out of Buck’s life five years ago. Buck seems to pick up on the fragile air between them and breaks the quiet for the both of them, “Are you here about your muffins?” He sounds apologetic, maybe a little weak. 

“Uh,” Tommy kicks up invisible dust on the ground, “Yeah, I was gonna see if I could order something else if you’re out of the ones I normally order.” 

“Okay, listen, I’m sorry about the delivery mishap, it’s just that normally I have more people delivering but most of them are out sick and I’ve been so busy lately and I just-” 

Buck continues babbling while Tommy only half listens, questions burning in throat. 

“Is this your shop?” Tommy interrupts. 

Buck’s face dances between expressions before landing on surprised, “I thought you-” he cuts himself off and shakes his head, “Yeah. Yeah, this is my shop.” 

“You're not at the 118 anymore? You're-you’re not a firefighter?” 

Buck glanced down at his feet and puts the tray of cookies down on the counter. He takes a deep breath and speaks, “I thought maybe Eddie or Chimney would have told you.” 

Tommy furrows his brows, “We don't talk that much about-” he swallows, “you know…” About Buck. About them. About the breakup. He hasn't heard a word about Buck in five years. He hasn't even heard his name. 

“Yeah,” Buck nods his understanding. 

“Yeah,” Tommy agrees. 

“Um, yeah, this is my shop,” Buck continues, “I opened it about five years ago. A few months after.” 

They're dancing around saying it. Tommy's not sure how much longer they can keep this up for. 

“Why’d you quit?” Tommy asks. That's the question at the center of this whole thing. Why, why, why. 

Buck blinks, like he’s got something at the tip of his tongue but it caught between his teeth, “Few reasons.” He looks down at his legs again, “Uh, I got into an accident a while back. It took me out of the field for a while and I-” Buck stops and searched for the words, “I couldn't think of many reasons to go back to how things were before so I figured it was time for a fresh start.” 

Tommy lets the information wash over him. He can't imagine Buck being content with being out of the field but this bakery- it's tribute to first responders, it's pictures on the wall of smiling firefighters and dispatch operators- it's peaceful. It's like he’s found the happiest middle ground possible. 

“P-plus, I teach on the side,” Buck adds like an afterthought, “Part time, it's good money. Only have class a few days a week so it gives me time to run the bakery and keep business up.” 

Tommy smiles at that. Buck was always a busy-body, constantly needing to be moving in order to stay stimulated. Without being a firefighter, Tommy had wondered how he manages with all the extra free time but of course Buck would fill the days however he could. He’s never been sedentary and he won't start now. 

“Sounds like you've been busy,” Tommy comments lamely. Like he's a stranger. Like this is just small talk. It's almost nice. The small talk- pretending these small intimacies are something he still gets to enjoy. 

A moment passes before Buck claps his hands, “Your muffins!” He disappears into the kitchen and bustles around. Tommy can see his shadow passing through the window in the center of the wall. 

When Buck re-emerges, he’s holding the signature box of muffins that gets delivered to his station. “For you. We had them, it's just that I couldn't get them to you. Sorry about that.” 

Tommy shakes his head and steps forward to grab them, “No, don't worry about it. They're just for my crew, I’m the captain now and I’m trying to keep everyone happy.” 

“Captain?” Buck quirks an eyebrow, tilts his head, and smirks. Tommy's heart hurts. “You've been busy too.” 

“You could say that,” Tommy tries not to overthink whether or not it sounds like he’s flirting. He doesn't know if he intends it or not. Instead he focuses on the way Buck ducks his head and hides his smile. Tommy feels like a wrong move here is going to cost him. He wants to be delicate, he wants to flirt, he wants to friend-zone him, he wants to reach across the counter and pull him in and never let him go. It's been five years, it's been seconds, it's been no time at all. Seeing Buck again feels like taking your first breath after being underwater for too long. His lungs are burning. The right thing to do is to keep burning. It's selfish to do anything else. To gasp for breath the way he wants to. But- 

“Listen, Buck, if it's easier on you guys,” Tommy mentally flays himself for starting the sentence, “I could swing by in person instead. So you don't have to worry about delivering to us.” 

Buck considers him. Tommy waits for him to say what they both already know. That it’s not a good idea, they should lose contact, forget each other. 

Buck sucks his teeth. Suddenly, Tommy feels a wall rise between them. Then he exhales and says, “On one condition.” 

Tommy shrugs, keeping himself nonchalant, “Of course.” Anything, obviously, I’d do anything. 

“You can't call me Buck. It’s Evan or nothing” 

Every alarm is going off in his head. Red, blaring sirens that have always told when to run sing through his skull and fall on deaf ears. 

“I can do that, Evan.” 

Evan smiles. For the time, the smile finally reaches his eyes. They twinkle like they used to. This is such a bad idea. 

“Same time next week?” Tommy holds the basket with one hand and does finger guns with the other. He’ll never stop embarrassing himself. 

“You know where to find me,” Evan leans against the wall, blue apron tied cutely around his waist. There's a pink tint to his cheeks that Tommy tries not to read into. Gentle is the name of the game and he’s trying not to let himself expect anything he shouldn't. They're just two old friends catching up once a week. Tommy's just a customer in Evan’s shop. They hardly know each other anymore. 

Maybe they’ll get to know each other better than before he cut loose and ran. Or maybe Tommy will just become a recurring customer. He’s nervous to find out which. Either way, he leaves the shop far too excited for the week to come to an end. His crew comment on his quote-unquote glowing cheeks and far off look in his eyes. 

Picking up muffins becomes Tommy’s favorite part of the week. 

[callmeizukunotdeku]

Jason starts working with the Bats and he feels guilty. He is guilty.

Sure, he wasn't in his right mind during the Tower incident, not entirely, but he was in his right mind when he was planning it. The Pit could only take over for so long.

So maybe, when things start to get better between him and the bats, he takes up a case with Robin.

It's an easy case, but he's still impressed by how quickly Robin solves it.

Maybe Tim smiles when he solves the case and Jason ruffles his hair and tells him he did a good job--because god, Tim's just a kid; how could he not?

And maybe Tim keeps coming back after that.

Maybe Tim keeps solving all of Red Hood's cases before Jason can. Maybe Tim keeps taking over for Jason and maybe Jason starts to feel less guilty and more pissed off because he knows that he never fully thought things through as Robin and he knows that Bruce took on Tim as Robin because he did. He knows Tim is the smart Robin, but Tim has neither the right nor reason to rub it in his face, so maybe he snaps at Tim--tells him to get the fuck out of sight, tells him that he might not be the smartest person in the room but he's not some fucking idiot, tells him that he knows what he's doing and he doesn't need some fucking kid just going around solving his cases for him. Maybe, Jason tells Tim that he's not needed.

And maybe the guilt comes back when Tim leaves with tears in his eyes.

But, Jason thinks, all the guilt in the world isn't enough to override the anger and let Tim back in, not after he called Jason an idiot with everything but his words.

And then, maybe Jason is working a case and it expands past his territory and he finds himself in the cave, working with Batman. Maybe neither of them can solve it and Tim walks in, excitedly talking to Dick about something. (Jason isn't listening too closely.)

Maybe Bruce calls Tim over and Jason flinches--he didn't remember Bruce ever being that harsh when he was Robin.

Maybe Tim solves the case and Bruce turns back to Jason and starts planning their next step without so much as a thank you.

Maybe it's odd, to Jason, how Bruce and Tim don't act like a Batman and Robin to each other, and that thought sticks with him, bugging him whenever he has a quiet moment, so maybe a week or two passes before he asks Dick about it.

Maybe Dick's smile is sad when he explains how they've always been like that. Tim, always striving for attention, Bruce never giving it. Maybe Bruce's standards rose above what was physically possible in the wake of Jason's death and maybe Dick sobs himself to sleep every once in a while because that hasn't stopped tim from trying.

Maybe Tim was okay for a bit whenever Dick was in town because he could help Dick on cases and Dick would smile and applaud every little thing he did, but Dick lived in a different city, so Tim couldn't help as much with Dick's cases as he could with Bruce's.

Maybe, Dick says something under his breath--a passing comment about how surprised he is that Tim didn't come to Jason and try to solve all his cases just for a kind word or two, hoping that maybe the Red Hood's love of kids and their happiness would extend to him.

Maybe Jason feels his stomach drop as the final piece of the puzzle clicks in place--how at first, Tim came with cases every so often, smiled and leaned in whenever Jason said a kind word to him, and how, when Jason started thinking that Tim was doing this to spite Jason was when he stopped giving that praise to Tim, which had the boy solving more and more cases for him, working harder and harder without being asked just so that maybe--maybe Jason would tell him he did a good job. Jason wondered just how far Tim would go if someone promised him a smile.

Maybe the guilt is too much for him and he pushed it down, only saying, "I don't think he'd risk it--not after the Tower."

Maybe Dick has something sad in his eyes when he says, "He's done more for less."

Maybe Jason tries again to bring Tim into his cases, but Tim refuses, promises not to intrude, promises he learned his lesson, and maybe Jason cries because Tim has never asked for an apology after Titan's Tower, but one hint that he's overstepped and Tim begs forgiveness.

Maybe Jason focuses a little too much on how to bring Tim closer--make him feel loved again and make it clear that Jason just didn't understand what Tim that Tim was trying to help--make sure Tim knew he was welcome.

But maybe Tim refused.

And maybe, Jason got so focused on Tim that he stopped focusing on patrol and got over his head. Maybe, just on pure happenstance, Tim was nearby that night and he couldn't let anything happen to his Robin.

Maybe Tim swooped in to save the day and Jason grabbed onto his wrist when he tried to leave.

Maybe Tim apologized but Jason just pulled him in and hugged him--a full hug, one arm around Tim's back, the other, tucking Tim's head into his chest, and maybe Jason said, "Thank you so much, Robin. I needed you to save me."

Maybe Tim cried when it happened. Maybe, under his mask, Jason was crying as well. Maybe, they got closer after that, Jason, needing to be trusted to care for something and Tim just needing to be cared for.

And it takes time, but maybe there comes a day when Jason looks Tim in the eye and tells him that he's important and valuable and incredibly loved regardless of whether or not he's needed. Maybe it take a few years before Tim believes him, and when he does, he hugs Jason and cries into his arms, but it's okay because Jason knew it would happen sooner or later, and it's okay, it's okay, he has tissues.

Maybe Jason apologizes for what happened at the Tower and Tim admits that he forgave him for that a while ago.

Maybe.

Maybe.

Who could say for sure?

[i-love-ptv]

Give You The World ❀ᮬ

Boyfriend!Rafe Cameron x Girlfriend!Reader

Day 1 on your period is never easy, good thing your lovely boyfriend is here to help….right?

Wc: 1,394

Pure fluff! Rafe doesn’t know all that well abt period care, but he’s trying!! :(

An: hey chatttttt…I wrote this on day 1, it’s now day 6..gulp! but i had to keep up w the fluff streak so ya! also i feel like this would totally happen (not proof read cause i don’t feel like it girl)

Feedback is always appreciated and definitely welcomed!

Zombie-like groans filtered through the room faintly, resulting in Rafe waking up groggily. He stretches his muscles and inhales deeply, before sluggishly moving towards your side of the bed; awaiting the warmth you usually provide. Rafe is left confused at the fact that you’re nowhere to be found—at first.

But then the pained groans get louder, and Rafe finally takes the light shining beneath the connected bathroom’s door into account.

Rafe then checks his phone and looks at his calendar, the one that shows that today is the start of your period.

Your relationship with Rafe is fairly new, and he was utterly enamored with you; after all, you’re the only one that got him to settle for longer than a week. You’re unlike anyone he’s ever been with, and he wants to be the perfect boyfriend for you.

Hence why when you’d gotten your last period, he may or may not have saved a video he saw of a girl on Tiktok talking about how her boyfriend tracks her cycle.

Now this doesn’t mean Rafe knows what he’s doing, not by a long shot, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try.

He gets up and heads to the door, before knocking lightly, but enough for you to hear it. “Baby?” He murmurs, a little apprehensively.

“Hu-urgm.” You groan even louder; Rafe winces.

“Can I uh—come in, maybe?” His brows are furrowed, and he’s trying to approach the situation gently. Knowing you: one wrong word and you’ll be in some sort of “mood” all day.

Whether that’s sad or mad depends on the severity of his stupidity.

Instead of a groan there’s an aggravated huff, but the lock jingles. Rafe waits a beat, wondering if you’ll open the door, but in reality he gets silence.

—At least, it’s as silent as it gets with your labored breathing.

Rafe lightly pushes on the door, and his eyes cast down to your form: curled up in a fetal position on the bare pearly tile, coddling your stomach tightly.

“Oh baby.” He whispers, before crouching down to your level. His touch is gentle, almost feather-like, as he wipes the hairs that stick to your forehead with sweat.

“Stop. It’s hot,” you glare at the boy, making him shrivel up to himself.

“Well…”Rafe begins softly, “If you don’t want me to touch you, what do you need?”

You huff yet again, “Pads, with wings,” you murmur, your voice barely the sound of a peep.

“Okay—okay, yeah, I can do that baby.” He offers a sweet, half smile, to which you return with a matching one. Although it’s more of a grimace than anything, Rafe still accepts it. “Can I put you on the bed though, sweetheart? Don’t want you laying on the floor..”

You nod your head with a hum, and allow your boyfriend to pick you up and carry you to your shared bed bridal-style. He carefully places you down on the plush comforter, and allows you to tangle yourself up between the sheets and several blankets you force him to keep on the bed. You let out a satisfactory groan, before turning your back to him and gripping the pillow.

“Do you want any Advil? Tylenol, maybe?” Rafe asks, his digits switching from circling your skin lightly to rubbing your side up and down.

“Already took some…Jus’ waiting for it to kick in,” you mumble. At least, that’s what you heard; Rafe heard mainly gibberish. He’s not surprised, though, and he’s definitely not blaming you. He bets the feeling of his fingers dancing delicately mixed with the sleepiness you tend to feel after taking the pain meds has you beat.

He hums in approval, and you can no longer feel his warm touch, meaning you have nothing else to focus on besides the ache in your back that’s slowly migrating to your stomach. You hear shuffling and assume he’s putting on his shoes, because after a few minutes, you feel the warmth of his body radiating near you.

Rafe leaves yet another kiss to your forehead as he caresses your cheek, before walking out of the room, but not before quietly shutting it. There’s a high probability of you getting a headache from Sarah’s insistent over-the-phone conversation with her husband and Rose’s alarmingly loud at home exercise video.

Rafe will do anything in his power to prevent any more pain inflicted on you, in every way possible—it’s a habit he’s picked up on.

Your eyes are bleary and resist sleep as Rafe’s footsteps sound further and further away. As you faintly hear his shoes hitting the stairs, you allow yourself to succumb to slumber.

Rafe opens the front door, he steps in and places his keys on the key hook. His hands are full as he walks, and there’s a slight ache in his legs from the constant walking from his impromptu shopping trip. It took the poor guy 20 minutes to even find the feminine care aisle, let alone actual menstrual products.

He notices his younger sisters on the couch watching one of those shitty rom-com movies. Speaking of sisters: Sarah perks up once she senses Rafe.

The blonde whips her head around, Rafe has no idea how the hell she hasn’t gotten whiplash. “I smell wings,” she squints her eyes at her brother.

Rafe can’t help but roll his eyes and say your name, almost as if he wishes he could summon you to save him from the onslaught of questions and comments he’s about to receive. “They’re for her.” He states firmly.

Sarah eyes the reusable bag in Rafe’s hand, and purses her lips. “Y’know, normally boyfriends get their girlfriends chocolate when they’re on their period, not wings.”

Rafe scrunches his face in annoyance, “She asked for pads with wings, so that’s what I got. Happy?” He smiles sarcastically at her, wanting nothing more than to go back to you.

Sarah furrows her brows at this, and Wheezie turns her head as well. Sarah gets up from her place on the couch and quickly snatches the bag from Rafe’s hand, making him sputter.

She pulls the pads out of the bag and scoffs, “Oh my god, you idiot!”

“Jesus! What now?” Rafe groans, and Sarah lets out a matching one.

“She wanted pads with wings, like—the ones that are attached, not fucking pads plus wings!”

“You’re lying, okay?! I know what I’m doin’ Sarah-“ and the bickering between the two siblings goes on for minutes.

The sound of your feet padding on the cold floor was soft, barely audibly compared to the two eldest Cameron siblings arguing.

You can hardly see through your squinting, but you can’t bring yourself to open your eyes due to the warm sunny rays beating through the windows. You place a hand on Rafe’s shoulder, and he slightly jumps at the interruption.

Both Sarah and Rafe turn to you, although Rafe’s smile isn’t even close to what Sarah’s expressing. She’s more flabbergasted if anything.

“Hey!—Hey, baby. I uh, got your stuff..” Rafe looks almost apprehensive. It’s now that you finally take in the scent of fresh chicken wings, as well as the unopened box of pads. The box clearly shows they’re wingless.

“..I—I got the right stuff, right? I got what you asked for?” He’s looking down at you promisingly, and you can’t find it in your heart to break his. So you don’t.

You go to speak, but your voice fails you for a second. You pause before answering, “Yeah, yeah you did good, baby.” Sarah picks up on your tone of uncertainty, but thankfully, Rafe does not.

You take the box of pads and the plastic takeout box of wings from his hands. You signal him to lean down, so you can press a kiss to his lips, which he reciprocates both eagerly and smugly.

You slowly walk back upstairs to your nest of a bed, the sleep still fogging up your senses faintly.

“Told you,” Rafe says to Sarah triumphantly; he's beyond cocky.

Sarah brings her hand up to her face, where she rubs her forehead in exasperation.

“Y’know what? Okay.” Sarah walks back over to the couch where Wheezie sits and moves her focus to the movie playing on the screen.

Rafe will give you the world if you ask, even if there’s a few hiccups along the way.

[dinogoofymutated]

Okay, since requests are open, I wanted to ask for something, especially after seeing that you are comfortable with most male characters.

I present:

Scott Summers x fem!reader who's just a little too rebelious and annoying for his taste but he still can't help but love her? Like, enemies to lovers kind of style?

If you want to do a oneshot or headcanons is up to you, I'm just starving for Scott content.

Don't know, if you wanna do is, especially since he's not everyone's cup of tea, but I thought "hey, give it a try, maybe she wants to try someting different" so here I go

Anyway, love your work, you#re amazing <3

Cyclops/GN!Reader I've had this prompt saved in my drafts for SO LONG. Basically since the moment it came in!! I was so happy you sent this in bc i had been thinking about writing for Scott, but then I couldn't think of a good enough way to carry this out so I waited on it for a good bit until I had it down to a science!! Hope you enjoy!! Man, I started writing this and then realised I had to make a banner for him too 😭 I did this to myself tho Most of the characters I write for are written as combinations from different x-men media, but I'm still figuring out how I want to characterise Scott since he's a new character for me. Just wanted to put this out there in case I change how I write for him in future fics. (also, let me know how you feel about him in this one! Tell me if yall think I should tweak his attitude a bit :) ) Edit from the future: I started this draft so long ago and damn did it turn out long. TWs: Idk at the moment, will add if I think of any! Reader has a specific power that is kinda vague at first. I've written them out at the very bottom BUT if u read u will spoil the surprise of the fic so fair warning

Scott does not like you. At least, not anymore.

You've known each other for a long time, both coming to Xavier's school within weeks of each other. You used to be friends- or at least friendly. But as you both grew and learned more about yourselves and your powers, a gap began to form, and then continued to grow once both of you became members of the x-men.

It's not like he didn't notice your tendency for rebellious behavior before, but on the field? the two of you clashed more than ever. He's doing his best out here, and the last thing he needs as a leader is both you and Logan going out of your way to put yourselves in dangerous situations because you think you know better.

And the moment you get back to the mansion? You clash all over again- and over the dumbest things. You practically avoid him all of the time, refuse to spar with him unless you're forced, will scoot away from him if he has to sit next to you on game nights. It's like the very thought of brushing against him is enough to get under your skin.

The moment the blackbird lands, you should have known what to expect. But you're in such a good mood, with the mission having gone well despite all odds. Sure, you didn't exactly follow Cyclops' foolproof plan, but when did you ever?

Scott is standing at the end of the ramp when the doors open, watching with a rather sour look on his face as you laugh with Jubilee, the others trailing shortly behind. He crosses his arms, and you barely stop short of him, acting like you had never seen him in the first place as you sigh, nodding at the others to go ahead before finally turning to him and crossing your own arms.

"Go ahead. Say your piece." You say. It only stokes the irritation in him, and he scowls.

"You can't go one, single mission and actually listen to what I say, can you?" He snaps. You roll your eyes, knowing that if he had it his way, you'd never have gone on the mission at all. Still, you stand defiantly, unwilling to back down.

"Look, you weren't even there, you can't expect me to-"

"It would be different if I was there, but I wasn't." Scott interrupts you, and the aggravation it lights in you is practically all-consuming. You can't hold back your scowl. "You were the only senior member of the team on that plane, do you understand how detrimental it could have been if you had gotten hurt, or worse?!" Oh, what a load of horseshit. It's alway the boy scout schtick with him- I'm the leader, do what I say, If I was there none of this would have happened- what an asshole! Hell, in the second half you might have actually thought he was concerned for you and the team, but you knew better.

"Don't act like you actually give a damn, Summers." You snap. "Everyone is fine, no one got hurt, I don't see your problem." You're done with this. You're tired, sweaty, exhausted, and the last thing you want to be doing right now is talking with him. You knock shoulders with him as you brush past, but he reaches out and grabs you by the arm. You feel a mix of strong emotions- anger, concern, frustration- and thoughts swim in your head, before snatching your arm away from him like you'd been burned. He pauses for a second as you whip around and look at him, a rage in your eyes. He still looks at you with that stupid, stubborn look on his face.

"I get that you think I'm just some stuck-up asshole, but there's a reason I get angry when you do something reckless." His voice has lost the smallest a bit of fire. You scoff at him immediately, before turning away to storm out.

"Eat shit."

So no. things weren't exactly cool between you two.

It's not like you weren't friends at some point though, back when you were kids. You didn't know what happened to cause this rift, but he only really thought of you as some reckless idiot as of late, and you didn't care to learn anything else about what was going on in his brain.

Unfortunately, that didn't mean you could avoid him forever. Not when the both of you are on a team.

You only realise how much pain you're in when the blackbird's autopilot clicks on. Your suit was scuffed and worn in some areas, starting to burn at the edges of your sleeves as the protective coating started to wear away. You noticed it in the midst of battle, trying to focus on manipulating debri to a colder temperature rather than a hot one, but sometimes you can't afford to be picky in fights. Your suit may have been temperature resistant, but you were temperature invulnerable. Besides, heat did the most damage anyway.

You frown a bit at the sight of your burnt sleeves. Normally, you'd be worried that Hank would be mad at having to make a new suit again, but if anything you were sure he'd be grateful for the challenge of improving it. Scott was really the only one who would scold you for it, always coming back to the same arguments of being too reckless, ect, ect... and speaking of Scott, he was being awfully quiet right now.

The cockpit is empty exempt for the two of you, being the only two assigned to the mission. Scott is sat in the pilot's chair, and you can't really see much of him besides the top of his head. He's silent, and it makes you worried.

When you stand and walk. over to him, his face looks pained. You're sure his eyes are closed under his signature visor, his head leaning back limply in the chair, hair tussled. You furrow your eyebrows. You knew he'd be tired, but he's not usually this burned out.

"Scott? You alright?" You ask. he only hums in response. It's then when you realise what's wrong.

"Migraine?" You ask, and he hums in the affirmative. You wince at the thought. You knew he got migraines often, especially when using his mutation more than usual, and having migraines yourself, you knew he was hurting. You take a look at where the emergency aid box usually is, knowing it had painkillers, but the space is empty, and you sigh to yourself when you remember you used it on a local- Scott agreeing with you for once when you wanted to leave it with them for any more emergencies. You look back at Scott, and think for a moment more.

Scott jumps when you place a cold hand on his forehead, having settled your weight on the back of the chair behind him. It sparks a feeling of surprise.

"What are you doing?" Scott asks, and instead of his usual accusatory tone, he just sounds tired.

"Don't be a baby." You respond, chilling both hands and combing through his hair gently. Scott is confused as all hell. Why were you doing this? You go out of your way to avoid him at any cost, and then... this? What even was this?

But... he'd be lying if it didn't feel nice. Scott begins to relax underneath you as you continue to comb through his scalp, pressing gentle touches to his forehead as you do so. It's... it feels good.

"My mom used to do this when I was little." You say softly, after a long moment of silence. "Whenever I had a migraine, she'd run her hands under cold water for a long time, lay my head in her lap, and run her hands through my hair. The cold usually helped." Scott's shoulder's are sagging now, and he sighs every once in a while. Although he doesn't say anything, you don't need to ask. There's a question beginning to brim, but you answer it before he can even speak- saving him the effort of talking in the midst of his pain.

"...And it just felt nice to feel her play with my hair, I guess. 'figured it might help you, too."

You try not to dwell on whatever thoughts begin to swirl after that.

It's hard to tell when things shift after that. Even harder for Scott to understand why.

Eventually you go from avoiding him at any given chance, stiff and petty with your actions, to casual. Not quite friendly, but almost.

"And... Right hand red!" Jubilee calls from the couch, having entirely too much fun for someone who isn't even playing this game. Everyone who's already lost has dispersed, either playing a different game or having good conversation. The game of twister had started with four? Maybe five of you? But at the moment, it was just down to you and Scott. -The two of you being way too competitive to let the other win. At the moment, both of you were in a bit of a strange position, with Scott managing to crawl over you at some point. Aside from that, the game had been going on for uncomfortably long- long enough for the pizza to get here.

The doorbell rings and it's pretty instantaneous when people start to flock to the kitchen for the feast, Jubilee included. There's a flicker of panic in both of you as she quickly leaves.

"Hey!-"

"Jubilee! Wait!"

"You'll be fine, you big babies!" She calls out, giggling in her pursuit of the cheesy goodness. That just leaves you and Scott on the matt, pressed together in some places and a but uncomfortable, but awkwardly? Still competeting.

"God, that pizza smells good." Scott groans from above you, the smell of food becoming more and more tempting. You think about it, for a half a second maybe, but that competitive little devil on your shoulder gets to you before your stomach can.

"You know what? why don't you go ahead and grab a piece!" You say, causing Scott to cock an eyebrow at you.

"What, and let you win? Not a chance." He huffs. You shrug best you can, it was worth a shot! Neither of you were going to budge any time soon, determined not to let the other win. But the longer you stayed pressed together...

It's not like you hadn't noticed how handsome Scott was. Hell, who wouldn't? Even Logan isn't immune to his good looks, but obviously you weren't going to be... wierd, about it. You're just playing a game, right? But the sight of him above you, slightly flushed, shifting every once in a while while keeping his balance? It was... tempting.

It doesn't take long for other thoughts to begin swimming around, worming their way into your mind. The two of you in various states of undress... gasping, gripping onto one another... marks on his neck, your lips swollen and stained by the lipstick your wearing tonight.

Each and every thought leaves you more flustered than before, slipping on the plastic mat and accidentally knocking into one of Scott's weight bearing arms and sending the two of you colliding into the floor. You hear Scott let out a noise of pain and you're not down there for long before you shove him off of you, face burning as you grumble about his win. You stalk off without much fanfare, leaving Scott a bit befuddled.

"What was that all about?"

But regardless of how aggravated you made eachother sometimes, everyone has their breaking point...

You're surprised when Scott kisses you in the hall some weeks later, less than a second after a heated spat started to take a bit of a turn, but to be honest? You were into it.

His lips are soft, if a little chapped, heated kisses full of force and urgency before they soften just a little. You kiss him back in a similar manner his hands falling to your waist as you grab him by the collar and pull him even closer. You're quick to start moving the two of you backwards fumbling for a closet door you could have sworn was right... there.

As soon as the door swings open, you pull him inside, pushing him against the wall once it closes again and cupping the back of his neck as you pull him into another kiss. An unfamiliar feeling of warmth shoots through you as you do, and you almost giggle as his thoughts start to flood with more and more tempting situations for the two of you to be in.

After each and every dirty thought he has, you start to wonder if he even remembered your touch telepathy after having known you for so long- but hell, even if he didn't, you weren't complaining.

If u made it this far, I wanna give u details about the Reader's powers some more!! Specifically, the powers are temperature manipulation/temperature invulnerability/touch telepathy! They get a bit complicated bc reader can't light shit on fire or make ice out of the air, but they can melt shit and freeze existing water though! As long as reader touches it in some way! Due to this they're invulnerable to heat/cold for obvious reasons. Touch telepathy was added bc i love mutations with unnecessary layers (Emma frost) and... u really think I was gonna let scott get away without banging another telepath? wrONG

[hungermakesmonsters]

Hiii congrats on 500 I love your fics!!! Could you do sth where the reader and Billy actually meet in the marines ? Like the reader is a marine as well and Billy her lieutenant or even the other way around ? Thank youuu❤️ (submitted by @dorita06)

Aaaaaaah okay, so little known fact about me, I kind of love the soldier/medic trope in fiction, so rather than writing reader as a soldier herself, I went with making her a medic (hope that's ok!!) I had a lot of fun with this one, so I hope you like it! 😅

Stolen Moments

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : M 

Warnings : [This is 18+ only, minors DNI] Smutty behaviour.  

"I take it I don't have to explain how to look after your stitches?" You asked, eyeing the lieutenant as he shrugged his shirt back on and got to his feet.

As he stood, you found yourself tilting your head back to look at him, knowing all too well what came next. (At least, hoping you knew what came next.)

"Dunno, Doc, think I might need you to explain it to me one more time," he said as he reached for you, his fingers softly brushing against your neck.

You leaned into his touch, lifting yourself on your tiptoes as he slowly started to close the distance between you.

"Did you bang your head, Lieutenant Russo? Because this is the fifth time I've given you stitches and had to explain the proper aftercare procedure," you said, your voice getting softer as his lips got closer to yours. "Maybe I should talk to your CO, get you taken off active duty, so I can keep you here and... assess you."

Billy smiled that same smile he had the first time you'd met him, months ago in that very tent. He'd been bleeding then too, but he'd been more concerned with trying to get your name than the fact he'd needed stitches.

Of course, you'd tried to refuse him at first, tried to ignore the way that damned smile sent a bolt of arousal through you, not wanting to do anything to put your career in jeopardy. But the third time your paths had crossed, the first time he'd dared to kiss you, you were a goner.

Now, you'd lost count of how many times he'd ended up in the medical tent, needing to be patched up — sometimes for serious reasons and other times for reasons he claimed were serious just to get your attention — and how many times that had ended with him inside of you, giving you the best damned sex of your life.

Finally, his lips met yours and everything felt right in the world. He stepped forward and you stepped back, a hand behind you, feeling for the solid form of your desk.

He winced as he lifted you onto the desk. A small grunt of pain escaped him but, when you tried to pull back to check if he was alright, his fingers slipped into your hair, holding you in the kiss.

Instinctively, you parted your legs, letting him step between them, pressing his body close to yours. It was a familiar dance and you both knew the steps by heart. Your fingers tugged at his fatigues, while his pulled at yours, neither breaking the kiss or coming up for air for even a second.

You both knew that you were on borrowed time and that, at any moment, someone could rush in needing your assistance or need Billy to return to duty.

It was dangerous and stupid, something that could potentially spell then end of both of your careers, but you couldn't help it. You wanted him, needed him in a way that didn't make sense to you. And, no matter how many times you did this, no matter how many times you patched him up or he slipped into your tent after curfew, you knew that you'd never have enough of him.

And, as your hand slipped into his fatigues tograsp his already hard cock, you knew he felt exactly the same way.

"Lieutenant Russo," you murmured against his lips. "I'm starting to think you're getting injured on purpose just so you can come see me."

Billy grinned against your lips, kissing you again instead of answering your accusation. It was probably better that way — the last thing you wanted was thoughts of him being seriously hurt in your head, especially while you were stroking his cock.

A laugh slipped out as he tugged your pants down your legs and almost managed to pull you off the desk with them. That was your cue to lower his combat pants, pushing them down to his thighs.

He stepped forward, clearing the distance, and you had to bite your lip to hold back a moan when you felt the tip of his cock against you.

"Can't wait 'til we're stateside again," he muttered, reaching between your bodies to tease his cock between your folds. "Be able to take my time with you then."

You felt your lips pull into a ridiculous smile, the same way that they always did whenever he spoke about going home, about still wanting you after all the shit was over an you were both back home.

Still, you couldn't help but tease him.

"Who says I'm gonna waste my time on a jarhead like you when I'm back home?" You asked.

"Allow me to persuade you."

"Go on then, I'm all ears, tell me why I should —"

Before you could finish, Billy pushed forward, notching his cock into you, filling you in one smooth movement. You bit down harder on your lip, your hands grasping his fatigues.

"Fuck," you moaned as a familiar feeling of ecstasy took hold.

"Persuaded yet?"

"Yes — fuck, yes —" you gasped as he started to draw his hips back, setting a steady rhythm.

He kissed you again, swallowing down the moans that tried to escape you while using your lips to muffle his own desperate noises. His hands gripped you, holding you tight, clinging to you like you were the only stable thing in his world, and you loved it. You loved how he made you feel in those moments, kissing you, holding you, fucking you.

But it couldn't last. While you wanted to enjoy it, you both knew that, at any moment, you could be discovered.

He gripped your hip as he upped the tempo, driving you closer and closer to insanity with each rough thrust. You back arched and you writhed on the edge of the desk, completely losing yourself to him and the way he made you feel.

You gasped and panted and whined against his lips, every snap of his hips causing arousal to burn hotter in your belly, every fibre of your being coiling tighter, like a spring desperate to be released.

"Lieutenant — fuck, Billy —" you managed before being pulled back into another kiss.

He grunted against your lips as the last of his self-control seemed to disappear. You loved the moments when he lost control, when he lost his mind over you. His fingers gripped your bare hip tight enough to leave bruises — replacements for the ones that had started to fade since your last tryst.

The desk creaked and the metal legs scraped against the concrete floor, but all you could think was more, more, more. After months of snatched moments like this, you'd found yourself addicted to him, desperate for him in a way you'd never know with any other man.

As he fucked you and stole your breath away, you felt a crescendo building, a wave of pleasure that was going to drowned you.

Your fingers damn near ripped his shirt as you started to come, clinging to him for dear life.

His grip on your hair tightened, keeping his lips sealed over your as you tried to cry out his name. A few more enthusiastic thrusts later and he followed you over the edge and into oblivion, holding you just as tightly as you were holding him.

He pressed his face against your neck, panting for breath, his cock still inside you, still twitching as his orgasm ebbed away.

Moments like this were the ones that made you wonder if he meant it, if he really did want to see you again once you were both back home and the desert was in the rear-view. But you didn't dare ask — you never asked, because you weren't sure how you'd feel if/when it all turned out to be lies.

You weren't naïve enough not to see what this probably was; you were one of the few women on base and it was very clear that Lieutenant Russo had needs. And you? What you needed was something to keep you sane and, somehow, that had become him.

Tenderly you ran your fingers through his hair as you both caught your breath then, reluctantly, he pulled away.

[gorbo-longstocking]

Do Not Blame the Sea | Chapter One

Pairing: Emperor Geta/Reader, Emperor Caracalla/Reader

Summary: Everyday, you woke up and performed the steps necessary to complete your routine. It was monotonous, like clockwork, as you traveled down the tracks laid out for you since birth. With a mind uncontested, you found yourself graduating college before you were legally an adult, and at the behest of your controlling parents, you continued on to medical school, then further on into a surgical residency at a nearby hospital. You had always wanted to help people and this was the best way to do it.

So, why, with everything you had ever wanted at your fingertips, were you so unhappy?

Maybe that was why when you awoke in the past, surrounded by farmland instead of your blankets that you decided to ‘just roll with it’ rather than scream. That was your motto now as you were unceremoniously dropped from your assigned path onto untrodden ground with no hope of going back. So, even when you saved the life of a soldier and were carted off into the heart of the corrupt Roman Empire to be the twin emperor’s new physician, you barely batted an eye.

After all, you would do anything to save your patients.

Tags: Time travel, transmasc reader, no use of y/n, eventual polyamory, no incest, period-typical attitudes, Caracalla doesn’t have syphilis but he has PTSD, mentions of slavery, both historical accuracy and historical inaccuracy, obsessive behavior, eventual smut in later parts, medical inaccuracies,

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Authors Note: Hiiiiiii, I’m back at it again, starting another fic. Those freaky gingers have bewitched me, let me tell you. Anyway, some important things to note about this little fanfiction that I feel the need to clarify before we get into the real meat and potatoes.

First and foremost, Geta and Caracalla won’t show up until chapter two. Maybe even chapter three, it depends on how much more set up I write, so if you want to wait ‘till then to read this, you’re welcome to :3

Two, and very important, unlike my other fics where the reader is trans, but referred to with they/them pronouns or neutral language, this main character will be referred to with he/him pronouns and masculine language in the text because, as a plot point, they are assumed to be a cis man. Along with this, they have three descriptions in the text. They have dyed green hair — original hair color shan’t be mentioned — they have top surgery scars, and they have a vagina. I miiiiight make an accidental reference to heights (ex. ‘ooked up at him/looked down at him) but I will try my hardest to not.

While their real name will never be mentioned in text for self-insertion purposes, Geta and Caracalla come up with the nickname ‘Alga’ for them due to their green hair. It means ‘seaweed’ in Latin. It also means ‘something of little worth.’ :) So, that is how they’ll be referred to. Generally. It’s either that or ‘medicus’ or ‘physician’ or ‘you there.’

Third and finally, I am a huge nerd and fan when it comes to the Roman Empire. As a society, they have a bunch of hangups, taboos, and beliefs, mostly around sex, that I find incredibly funny and will pepper in here and there. I will try to make this fic as historically accurate as I possibly can using all the resources I have at my disposal (google, a few academic texts, and my best friend whose studying classical history) but there’s no guarantee I get all of it right. Half the reason I’m using a modern character as the main POV is so they have an excuse not to know things 😭 Also when it comes to conjugation of Latin words, please, PLEASE give me leeway, I haven’t taken a Latin class since high school.

All that said, I hope whoever reads this fic enjoys it, because that is my main goal. Writing is seriously a passion of mine and my favorite part about it is sharing it with people. That means YOU person reading this, I think you’re awesome.

Okay I’m done talking, on with the show!!

Chapter One ///

This dream sucked — because that was what this was, a very bad dream — and, if you had to guess, it was the worst dream you had ever had in your life. Which was saying something. As a surgical resident who did most of their studying in a hospital, you were chronically sleep deprived and had a lot of stressful material to work with. Whatever aid you used to help you get some semblance of rest had a tendency to give you weird dreams. Very, very weird dreams. You had a few recurring ones, like being chased by a sentient pool noodle — whatever that meant — and several where the ghosts of your patients blamed you for their deaths — far more self explanatory than the pool noodle — but none quite like this one.

Out of everything you had ever experienced in your bleak and desolate mindscape, this dream was long and boring. That was its only crime. Along with being terrifyingly vivid, of course, which you didn’t particularly enjoy thinking about. If you were any less logical, you’d almost be convinced this was reality. That you had woken up in a small farming village, close enough to the capital of one of the most infamous ancient empires that you could see it on the horizon. Sometimes, when the sun set, you would stare at the shadow of Rome dancing upon the skyline. It was beautiful, albeit impossible. Sure, the people who surrounded you only spoke Latin, and they didn’t trust you as far as they could throw you, but it wasn’t as if that mattered. Soon, you would awake in your bed, one day closer to your exam and the beginning of the rest of your life.

Why did the thought only fill you with a sinking sense of dread? Being a doctor was everything you had ever worked for. Helping people, saving people, it was your purpose, the very reason you were born with your exceptional mind. It was your destiny, so why did it feel like you were marching to the gallows?

You shook your head to rid yourself of these thoughts. Focus on the present, focus on the dream, it was far easier than the constant ever present march of time. It was why you were so certain that the predicament was a figment of your imagination. Time hated you, constantly pulling on your leash, dragging your forward even as you dug your heels into the muck. It would never, never move backwards. Not for you.

Never for you.

A low groan of despair rumbled in your throat as you tried your best to wash your filthy scrubs in a nearby river. The water wasn’t murky, but it wasn’t clear either. Unsurprising, considering the nearby village used this water for practically everything. They were close enough to the city to have access to aqueducts, carrying waste hopefully further downstream. You were determined not to think about it. Any other denizen of this small settlement would wash their clothes themselves. The village was too small for a fullonica, and you were pretty sure they were mostly meant for the wealthy. That said, you also knew that Romans used urine to wash clothes — thank you to the ancient civilization classes you took for fun — and you’d be damned before you let a random person’s piss touch your scrubs.

Outside of work, at least.

With your pants rolled up to your knees as you waded deeper into the water, you continued to do what you could to clean the few clothes you had on you. Considering you only had a little bottle of soap you stole from a hotel a few months ago, it was easier said than done. You wanted to ration what you had in case this dream went on for much longer. Just because this was a fictional scenario conjured by your stress addled mind didn’t mean you weren't going to go about things logically. You had already been asleep for three days now, who knew how much longer this neverending dream would last? Perhaps forever. The thought of avoiding reality as you waste away in your bed was far more comforting than it should have been.

A loud shout echoed to your right and you fought the urge to shoot a nasty glare at the <i>obviously</i> young soldiers goofing off several yards away. Well, young was a strong word, they were the same age as you. Probably. You couldn’t really tell considering how staunch you were in your decision to not make eye contact. Out of the handful of men playing in the water, they were all naked. It wasn’t that nudity bothered you, you were studying healthcare for Christ’s sake, it was the unfortunate fact that soaking wet, muscular hunks were a particular weakness of yours. You weren’t sure the soldiers would appreciate your ogling, the villagers already avoided you like the plague. Judging by the dirty looks you received from some of the, unfortunately armed and notoriously xenophobic men, they’d heard enough about you to be wary.

You let out another sigh, your scrubbing becoming a tad more vigorous. Soapy bubbles rose to the surface of the water and your face was screwed up in concentration.

This particular Roman century had arrived at the village only a half-day after you did. From what you could pick up from eavesdropping, instead of being sent to North Africa to get a little conquering done, their legion was shipped to Gaul to put an end to some dissent. Once that was over, the officer in charge received orders to head back to Rome so they could be sent to North Africa with the rest of the troops. They had only stopped at the village for a last bit of rest before their next assignment. Or something. You had been noticed, and you had scurried off the second you realized you were caught.

Letting out a small huff, you examined your scrubs and decided that they were as clean as they would get. Once you were back at shore, you wrung out the fabric the best you could before laying them flat on a rock beside the only other outfit you had, aside from the one you were wearing, to dry in the sun. Another bark of laughter drew your eye to the soldiers playing like schoolboys in the river. Weren’t these men hardened warriors of one of the most regimented militaries to exist? Surely, they should be more disciplined. Still, you couldn’t help the small smile that caused your lips to twitch upwards. Even thousands of years in the past, and in your dreams, humans were the same as they had always been.

The sun was warm, hanging overhead like an unripe cherry tomato. You closed your eyes to bask in it a bit more than necessary. Your skin prickled, indicating that there were eyes on you, though you didn’t particularly care. No footsteps approached you and the sound of laughter didn’t stop, so you figured you were safe enough to show your belly. You didn’t realize you had laid down until you felt grass tickle the back of your neck. Perhaps a little nap wouldn’t hurt. A dream within a dream would be rather funny, you thought as you fell into a light doze, lulled by the sound of soldiers playing.

You didn’t know how long you slept for. It was the sound of panic that woke you, sending you upright so fast, your head spun. The first thing you noticed was the merriment had stopped and had given way to an oppressive sense of desperation. You looked in the direction you had been avoiding all day to see a gaggle of soldiers, some clothed, some naked, dragging an unconscious body onto shore. One man was running with his tunic halfway over his head in the direction of the village, yelling for the centurion in charge. You were moving before you could stop yourself.

“Make way! Make way!” Your Latin was shaky, but not the worst in the world. While you were sure your accent was strange, you knew you were at least understandable as some of the men turned to block you from getting any closer. They didn’t look particularly pleased at your arrival, eyeing both your hair and your odd attire with an air of skepticism. You didn’t have time for this. “I am a doctor. A physician. I can help him, we must act fast.”

One of the soldiers raised a singular thick eyebrow. “A physician, you say? You look like no medicus I have ever seen.”

“Does that really matter?!” You shouted, your voice a harsh bark. The longer this went on, the less of a chance you had to save this man. While you were nervous to plow through the wall of stout muscle that blocked you from your prospective patient, you realized you might have to.

The soldier looked like he wanted to say something more, when an authoritative voice broke through the ranks. “Let the man through! We have lost too many as is without losing another to a few hours of games.”

Every head snapped in the direction of whoever spoke. All except yours. The second you saw a gap in the crowd, you slid through and fell to your knees beside the drowned man, the one you determined to save.

First thing you did was check for responsiveness. It was out of habit mostly. A tap on the shoulder, a shout, another tap. He didn’t respond, that was unsurprising.

When you checked for a pulse, you found none, so you began chest compressions. Placing your hands together on his chest, arms straight, you began to push. The rhythm came to you naturally — you had made sure to pay attention in class, and this wasn’t the first time you had done this. Despite the fact that you knew no support was coming, that if you couldn’t get this man back by yourself, he would die, your head remained clear.

Do not lose sight of your goal, do not lose hope, go until you can’t anymore.

After thirty compressions, you took a deep breath, pinched his nose shut, and tilted his head back, placing your mouth over his. You heard a few gasps, and even a cry of disgust as you pulled back to push another breath into his lungs. Determined to pay the growing crowd no mind, you placed your hands on his chest and began to pump his heart again.

This went on for… like with your nap, you didn’t know. All you knew was that you were drenched in sweat, your arms were sore, and your breath coming out in harsh pants. Thirty more compressions, you inhaled a ragged breath and pushed oxygen into his lungs once more. If this didn’t work, you’d have to call it.

There was a hand on your chest, shoving you away, a watery cough filling your mouth with spittle before the drowned man flailed back to life. You didn’t take offense to the harsh treatment. He had woken up to a kiss. That would startle anyone. You rolled him over on his side and rubbed his back as he hacked up a lungful of murky water and whatever he had eaten for breakfast.

“You’re back,” You muttered softly, as comforting as you could. “Breathe. Slow and steady. It feels good to be back, doesn’t it?”

The man met your eyes, his own a startling shade of honey, a confused, but grateful, smile on his lips. “I thought I was gone.”

“Yeah, we all thought that!” A soldier with a shaved head nudged him roughly with his toe. “Medicus here worked a miracle with his lips.”

A hand reached down to clasp your shoulder, shaking you firmly, if not playfully. You looked up to see a man with floppy blond curls grinning down at the man you just saved, his lips pursed. “The kiss of life!”

You let a small, uncomfortable laugh titter from your mouth. Being surrounded by so many people was awkward, and their banter was even more so. You felt entirely out of place. Rather than focus on that, you fixed your attention back on the man you saved.

“What’s your name?”

“Sextus Aelius,” He answered, voice hoarse.

With a small smile, you gestured to another soldier to hand you a nearby tunic. Sextus — you wouldn’t laugh about his name, you wouldn’t — had begun to shiver, even in the hot sun, and you wanted to keep him warm. Not to mention he was still naked. You tried not to study him too much, focusing on the sharpness of his jaw and the gentle slope of his nose rather than his nudity.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Sextus, I am—” You were cut off by a cacophony of noise, a few whistles interspersed within. A bit of heat rose to your face when you saw Sextus’ bewildered expression. “I fear I have made a blunder.”

To your relief, he merely laughed. “Aelius. Call me Aelius.”

“Right. I apologize, Aelius. How do you feel?”

Once you had given him the tunic, he slipped it on over his head, covering his modesty — not that anyone but you seemed to care all that much about it. When he stood, two men came to his side to steady him. Despite this, he still offered you his hand. It would be rude to deny him, though you didn’t feel comfortable accepting help from a man who had been, by many’s standards, dead a few minutes before. You gave him a small smile and pushed yourself to stand on your own.

“I could be better.” His grin was lopsided, the boyish kind that showed off his teeth. It was endearing enough for you to be proud of saving a good man, rather than a mere man. When he spoke next, there was no small amount of awe in his voice. “You saved my life, I am not sure if that is something I can repay.”

A snort pulled from your throat as you waved him off. “No repayment necessary, I only did what needed to be done.”

Aelius looked about to argue when he paled, his gaze flickering behind you. There was a creeping sensation of unease crawling up your spine, similar to when you had earned your parents displeasure. Standing behind you was a presence, one with enough authority to cause the men around you to stand at attention.

Thankfully, it didn’t seem directed at you. For now.

“What is the meaning of this, boy? I allow a bit of slacking off and you go and die on me?” It was the voice from before, the one who commanded his men to let you through. Taking a guess, you’d say this man was the centurion leading this particular century back to Rome. You didn’t dare look behind you, you didn’t dare move. Anything to keep his frustration off of you. It didn’t last long. A large hand clasped you on the shoulder, grip firm, but not harsh. “And to be saved by a foreigner! You should be on your knees thanking him for whatever trick on the gods he played at your behest.”

“That is unnecessary,” You tried to argue, only for the centurion to give you another shake.

“A humble medicus at that! Lucky boy! Very, very lucky!” He let go of you and gestured for Aelius to be taken elsewhere. “To the tents with you while I think of a suitable punishment. No man has died and lived to tell the tale on my watch, so I must be creative.”

Aelius, at least, looked ashamed, though the man with the floppy blond hair leaned down to whisper in his ear, a smirk dancing on his lips. Whatever was said earned him an elbow to the ribs. Men never change.

Before they could get too far, you found your voice. “Monitor him through the night! Fetch me if he stops breathing again!”

It was only once you heard the affirmative did you relax. Which lasted a moment before the centurion turned you around so you were facing him. His gaze was hard and his arms were crossed over his chest. Unlike the men before, the centurion was wearing his full armor, save for his helmet, another thing you were thankful for. You were not easily intimidated, but this man? He could crack you like a peanut.

After a moment of sizing you up, his eyes trailing from your clothes, so different from his own, with trousers instead of a tunic and a graphic t-shirt in an alphabet he knew, but words he couldn’t understand, to your green dyed hair. He didn’t seem impressed. In fact, he seemed suspicious.

“Lucius Marianus.” Unfurling one of his hands, he held it for you to shake.

With an awkward smile, you took his hand and introduced yourself. His grip grew a bit tighter at the sound of your obviously foreign name. You fought the urge to run away.

“A pleasure, Marianus.” This time, you called him by his second name, determined not to make the same mistake as earlier with a less forgiving man.

“Where are you from?” Quick and to the point, you could respect that. Logically, you knew that this wasn’t real, that ultimately, this was your dream and you held all the power, but there was a little voice in the back of your head telling you to be careful. “Are you a citizen, a slave, or a free-man?”

Licking your dry lips, you let your hand fall to your side, shoving it in your pocket before Marianus could see that you had begun to shake. “I am from a country far away. Across the western sea, farther than any have ever gone. I am a citizen of my country, but not of Rome, and I am no slave, so I suppose that makes me a free-man.”

“You suppose?” He pursed his lips and raised an eyebrow. “Well, I ‘suppose’ I won’t assume you’re a liar and a runaway. If I hadn’t just witnessed that…” Marianus paused, searching for the right word, and you hoped it would be one you recognized. “Technique of yours, I would figure just that. Tell me, medicus, what exactly did you do to one of my men?”

“I, uh…” Your tongue felt too big for your mouth. Whatever answer you gave this man, it better be satisfactory. All you could hope for was that the truth would be enough. “His heart was no longer beating, so I pressed upon his chest as hard as I could in the same rhythm that his heart would take.”

Marianus nodded, his expression contemplative. “And the kiss?”

“It was not a kiss!” The words burst forth before you could stop them, your face flaring even hotter. This entire conversation was reminiscent of one you would have with your father, and Marianus’ disapproval was getting to you more than it should. “I was breathing air into his lungs. I inhale, pinch his nose shut so the air doesn’t escape through his sinuses, and then blow into his mouth. If his chest rises, I am doing the procedure correctly.”

“Still, an intimate gesture to bestow upon a stranger.” His lips twitched upwards ever so slightly. You got the feeling he was teasing you now. “From what I can gather, this technique of yours mimics the functions of life in order to coaxe the spirit back into its vessel.”

You blinked, opening your mouth to argue with scientific facts. A beat passed before you snapped your jaw shut with an audible click. Better to not look a gift horse in the mouth. “I, uh, yes. It does. That is exactly it. You are a very intelligent man, Marianus, perhaps a career in medicine is calling your name.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, medicus.”

An awkward grimace pulled at your lips. “Right.”

Marianus was both unmoved and undeterred by your lame response. You expected him to leave you be. After all, despite the fact that you saved one of his men from drowning, you were still an outsider to both the village, the army, and Rome. In your head, he owed you nothing, all you did was your duty and you expected nothing in return. Marianus seemed to think otherwise.

“Where have you been sleeping, medicus?” With a sharp nod of his head, he gestured to your duffel bag and drying clothes. “I assume outside in the heat considering how poorly you are spoken of in town. Looking and speaking as you do, it’s no wonder anyone is hesitant to even allow you to sleep in their barn.” Again, the edges of his mouth curled upwards. “You are far more useful than previously anticipated. For once, I am happy to have my assumptions proven false.”

“Um, thanks?”

“Fetch your belongings, there are more men waiting to be your patients back at camp.”

You blinked, dumbfounded, before a sharp raise of Marianus’ black eyebrows broke you from your spell. If there were more people to be treated, you didn’t have to be told twice. With a bit of pep in your step, excited to have something to do rather than waste away in tedium, you stuffed your, now dry, clothes into your bag and slung it over your shoulder. Marianus eyed it with no small amount of reservation.

“Do you carry any weapons?”

You thought about your taser and pepper spray tactically placed in an easy to reach pocket on the side. “No. As a doctor, I consider myself a pacifist.”

Marianus snorted. “A good way to die.”

“Better to die giving life than taking it,” You replied easily. This wasn’t a lie. While you didn’t fault other’s for violence — how could you fault human nature? — you would rather heal before harm. A part of you hoped to balance the scales, do enough good to make the bad seem worth it. It was a lofty goal, one you tried not to dwell on. So long as you managed to help even a single person in your life, you would be happy, though you’d never confine yourself to such a meager goal. “If you don’t mind me asking, do your men not already have a doctor to treat them? Why take on a stranger’s help?”

“We did. He is no longer with us.”

You frowned. “A shame. Lose one soldier, and you only lose one man. Lose a doctor and your losses double. I never met him, but I’ll remember him fondly.”

“You’re soft. It’s a shame.” His words made you raise your eyebrows, and, when you looked at him, there was pity in his dark eyes, though it was only there for a second.

Marianus clamped his hand on the back of your neck and began to steer you in the direction of the camp. With few trees in sight, only lush farms and tall grass, the countryside was a sight to behold. You glanced over your shoulder to see the river and the village disappearing in the distance. While the road the two of you walked on was dirt, it was well trodden, no stones or holes to trip over. This truly was the Roman Empire. How your mind managed to conjure an image so beautiful and so unmistakably alien was beyond you.

“Has there been anyone caring for the injured?” You asked.

“Our veterinarius has been doing what he can, though I don’t like it. These are men, not animals.” To punctuate his displeasure, Marianus spit on the ground.

You nodded placatingly as you approached the first cluster of tents. Some of the soldiers recognized you, though you didn’t recognize them in return. Word traveled fast when you save someone’s life, you supposed. “I’m sure he’s doing his best.”

“His best is not enough,” Marianus grumbled.

Before you could respond, the stench of infection and sick filled your senses. If you hadn’t done clinicals or worked in healthcare while you completed your studies, it would have caught you off guard. Instead of blanching, you took your last deep breath of clean air, and braced yourself as much as you could. Marianus almost seemed impressed by the determination on your face as you pulled back the flap of the tent, joining a frazzled looking man — the veterinarius, you assumed — in his rounds.

All you could do was your best, and you intended for that to be enough.

Even as a student, you had steeled your heart to the worst suffering had to offer. Growing up as you did, with parents more interested in results than feelings, it became all too easy to turn off your bleeding heart and do what was necessary. By now, it was as simple as breathing.

Your bedside manner was gentle as you helped a few men, too injured to move, drink water from a ladle. If you were any less busy, you would have insisted it be boiled. Marianus would likely scold you, it was unrealistic for an entire century to boil water for every sick man, let alone every soldier, no matter how sound your advice was. Posca would do for now, as it always had.

For hours, you worked tirelessly, cleaning wounds and calming fevers. You were lucky modern medicine wasn’t all that you studied. In order to help as many people as you could, you focused on ancient and holistic practices as well, though you had an easy preference for the tried and true methods. There was no denying that you were a medical prodigy, a genius for all intents and purposes. It wasn’t that you had an ego — well, maybe you did — it was the fact that it was the truth. You had graduated college before you had turned eighteen and gone through medical school soon after. Right now, you were the youngest student going through their surgical residency in your state, perhaps even the country if you dared to let your pride swell. All of this, your parents would call their doing, that you would be nothing without their guidance.

You grimaced in the middle of setting a skinny man’s broken arm. Better not think about them now, it would only serve to stress you out even further. For all your skill, you caught yourself floundering inside the medical tent, Marianus watching from the entrance as you flitted from patient to patient, and the veterinarius sitting back to take a much needed break. While you had some supplies on you — a stethoscope, a sphygmomanometer, a Taylor hammer, none of which you’d utilized yet, a bottle of antiseptic, some ibuprofen, and three clean syringes — it wasn’t enough for you to feel comfortable. Which was ridiculous, this was your dream, you could do whatever you wanted.

Then again, if that was true, then why were you fumbling through even simple procedures? You didn’t feel comfortable using more invasive methods, not unless you had no other choice. The likelihood of survival was low, even with your steady hands. Perhaps this was a nightmare, a look into what life will be like once you were done with your schooling. Your slumbering mind was preparing you to be the failure you were always meant to be.

Shaking your head, you focused your attention back on your patient. No one seemed to notice your lapse, not even you. You were quite good at multitasking, mixing self-deprecation with stringent work ethic like a talented seamster. The skinny man was lucky it was a clean break, and even luckier, it wasn’t his humerus, which would have been more complicated given your lack of equipment. A bit of sweat trickled down your forehead as you stood, surveying the men around you. You had done well given the circumstances, but you still couldn’t help but feel as though it wasn’t enough.

Nothing was ever enough.

Even dreaming, you felt tired.

Three men had infected wounds. One was oozing pus, which apparently was a good thing according to the veterinarius and Marianus, though you still took care to clean the wound thoroughly. Another man had a fever due to the infection, and, after washing your hands, you took care to clean it as the other. After much reassurance that it wasn’t poison to Marianus — consisting of taking one yourself — you also gave him an ibuprofen for his fever, though you decided you were going to ration them unless it was an emergency. The third man was a bit harder, enough necrotic tissue forming around the infection that you considered surgery. For now, you introduced maggots to the area, a treatment Marianus seemed to approve of, if not with some disgust. In the morning, you would check the wound, and then surgically remove the decayed flesh if the maggots didn’t do enough.

Four men had broken bones, one, his arm, another, his finger, and two, their leg. That was simple enough, if not time consuming getting all the bone fragments to set properly. While you would have much preferred a cast to a splint, beggars couldn’t be choosers.

That wasn’t even to mention the handful of other men with various ailments that filled the tent. Apparently there was someone quarantined elsewhere, suffering from dysentery. According to the veterinarius, the treatment for that particular disease was rest, fasting, and dehydration, which you were in the middle of giving him strict instructions to keep the man as hydrated as possible, it didn’t matter how quickly he discharged it, he needed to be drinking as much water as he could. You didn’t hold out much hope he’d make it, though you’d be damned before you gave up on someone who needed you.

It wasn’t until Marianus clamped his hand on the back of your neck and began to steer you towards the tent’s exit did you realize how exhausted you were. Your eyes burned and your head throbbed. If you were any less of a man, you would have taken one of your ibuprofen to ease the dull ache in your temples. Ultimately, you decided against it. If there came a time when they were necessary and you had run out because of your own weakness, you would never forgive yourself.

“You did well, medicus. Better than I expected, you are very skilled at what you do,” Marianus said as he led you deeper into camp. By now, it was dark, well into the night too judging from the full moon directly overhead.

How long had you been working?

“Thank you. I am usually better than that. I fear my nerves of being in such an unfamiliar country are getting to me.” With the heel of your palm, you scrubbed at your face.

Marianus frowned down at you. “Keep your foreignness to yourself, medicus and you will go far. Though, that will be hard to do with hair like yours.” He looked you up and down, hesitant curiosity creeping into his features. “That strange color… it is not natural, is it?”

A laugh bubbled from your throat. “No, I dyed it. Green is a color I am rather fond of.”

“I am fond of red, but you do not see me painting my hair that color,” He grumbled under his breath, and it reminded you so much of the comments some of your superiors made, that you giggled.

Before you could respond, he gestured to a tent with an outstretched arm. A lantern was on inside, casting the shadow of the single occupant, who was busy sitting cross-legged and writing what seemed to be a letter. While you had reservations of interrupting, Marianus did not.

“Out here, now, boy!” The shadow visibly jumped before pulling back the flap to reveal Aelius. He looked as tired as you did, and truthfully, he stank to high heaven. You struggled not to wrinkle your nose so as not to offend him. Aelius seemed like a nice man.

“Sir?” Was all he managed before Marianus continued to bark his next set of orders.

“Since the two of you were acquainted earlier, and the fact that you were supposed to be monitored, you’ll be bunking together. In the morning, we set a course for Rome.”

You blinked. Did that include you? While you wouldn’t mind getting out of the village and seeing more of what this dream had to offer, you couldn’t help but feel a bit of uncertainty. There was no telling how long this dream would go on, nor how vast it was. You couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if you strolled ‘out of bounds,’ so to speak. Would you be trapped in an infinite void until you awoke? The thought was enough to send a chill down your spine.

“And I will remain here,” You finally said.

Marianus barked out a laugh. “No. You will join us. I still have a use for you.”

As much as you didn’t want to abandon your current patients, you would rather not push your luck any further than you already had. Crossing your arms, you met Marianus’ furrowed brows with your own. “And that use would be?”

To your right, Aelius made a little noise. Your gaze flickered over to him, catching his motion for you to cease, before you ignored it and fixated back on Marianus. He was looking at you like you’d lost your mind. At least enough to question him. A bit of discomfort made your skin itch, you always hated earning the negative attention of a superior.

For a moment, you feared that Marianus would yell at you until the sun rose. He puffed up, shoulders squaring and his lower jaw jutting out before he deflated with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his angular nose. “You are too soft for the army, medicus, and you are too foreign to hope to set up your own clinic, especially without citizenship. There is very little hope for you in the Empire.”

You looked away, feeling cold even as a summer’s breeze blew against your skin. An argument began to boil in the back of your throat, an insistence that this was a dream, so none of that mattered, but you managed to swallow that poison before it could spew out of you.

Marianus paused, waiting for you to respond. When all he received was a defeated look, he continued, “There is, however, hope for both me and you. The emperors require a new physician and I believe they would be taken by your skill and your…” He looked at your hair again. “Novelty. In return for discovering you, if they choose to take you on, me and my men will be rewarded.”

“I see,” You muttered. Perhaps this was the route your dream wanted you to take. At the end of it all, there was sure to be a lesson or even a vision of sorts that could help you in reality. All you had to do to get it was allow the plot to pull you forward. “And Rome is not far?”

Marianus’ features softened, bordering on fondness, guilt, and pity. “Barely a day’s march, medicus.”

“I will go, then. To Rome with me, I suppose.” Though you smiled, when you turned to Aelius, he stared at you as if you’d been sentenced to death.

—————————————-

Tag list: @snazzynacho

[deadpan-whistled]

Why? - A Thangyu Oneshot

——————

Pairing: Thanos x Nam-gyu

Warnings: Drug use; Strong Language

Summary: Thanos grapples with feelings for Nam-gyu, who is interested in asking someone else out.

Word Count: 703

——————

Thanos's hands fumbled around his cross-stashed pills, opening it and popping a pill. He needed something to clear his mind from the unsure thoughts about the one man he had grown fond of in this hell-hole.

"Can I have one?"

Thanos turned on his heels, wide eyes locking with the beautifully dark eyes of Nam-gyu. He had already seen the track marks on this man's arms, there was no reason for him to tell the other no, so he didn't. Instead, he groaned dramatically and placed a small pill on his friend's palm. "Fine, you junkie," he stated, slightly lower than he would have otherwise. "Not like you wouldn't stop bothering me if I told you no."

Nam-gyu smiled wide at the purple-haired man, happily accepting the pill.

"Hey, man, I was wondering—" Nam-gyu started to talk, walking over the short way to lay out on Thanos's bed. "You don't like Se-mi, right?"

Thanos followed him and shrugged. "She is a bitch, I think," he said. "Why?"

"I was thinking about asking her out for when we get out of this place." Nam-gyu motioned around the giant room they were in.

"What?" The single word slipped out of Thanos's mouth before he even thought about it. Heat rose to his face, his stomach churned something ugly.

Nam-gyu's smile slipped away, he had felt the air shift around them. Nam-gyu's eyebrows furrowed together. "Huh?" He sat up a little bit. "Is something wrong?"

Thanos crossed his arms and leaned back, careful to not make eye contact. "Nothing is wrong, what the hell are you talking about?"

By now, Nam-gyu was sitting up straight. "Are you jealous?" He asked, shock on his face. "Man, if you want to ask her out, you could have just said that," he said, trying to make up for any harm he could have made. "I mean— you have a better chance than me."

"Tsk!" Thanos scoffed, "THAT is not the issue."

Now, shock became confusion for Nam-gyu. "Then what is it?"

Thanos groaned and stretched out on his bed. "I do not have an issue, ask out whoever you want."

Nam-gyu's head tilted, similar to a puppy in Thanos's opinion. "So... you wouldn't mind if I got with Se-mi, right?"

"No," Thanos sat up, quick as a bullet. "I would mind!"

Thanos did not exactly understand his anger over this situation and it embarrassed him that he even was slightly jealous over this. Nam-gyu jumped at Thanos's sudden harsh tone. He was just as confused as Thanos by this point. They studied each other for a moment before Nam-gyu asked the long awaited question: "Why?"

Silence.

A long, long silence.

They stared at each other, neither saying a word. Nam-gyu waited, and the longer he waited for the answering, the more his brain wracked itself for the solution.

"I..." Thanos frowned, "I'm not sure, Nam-su."

Nam-gyu opened his mouth to correct the other, but reasoned within himself that maybe now wasn't the right time.

"Fine," Nam-gyu responded after a second of thinking about how to go about this. He held his hands up in a surrender. "I won't ask her out, okay?"

Thanos finally met the others eyes, a relieved feeling flooding him. "Yeah, okay." He said, standing up. He reached his hands out to dap up the other, Nam-gyu accepting the gesture. "Let's move on from this, my brother."

"For sure, man..." Nam-gyu answered. "For sure."

[omies-odd-writing-spot]

Tea cup lights

welp, this is out of order, but still wanted to do it! From my GT story "Little Library Mouse: Fallout idea" have the two later on, on their adventure.

This part was inspired by @mari-gt 's art here. As well as @amii-bo 's art here. .o. go look at their amazing art and blogs and stuff its so neat and cool! @horseyneigh2002 @raventroll80 @noris-stoneward you might like??

okay, here's my silly. .

Tea Cup Lights: How his tiny companion had managed to move a bit of coal from his cooking fire to her area he was ont sure. Impressed for sure, but worried. Granted the hot coal was small enough to fit in a bottle cap. So maybe it was a piece that crackled off and away from the fire.

“You okay there sister?” John asked as he settled down in the inside-camp with a freshly killed mole rat being put in a glass dish pan. He only really liked the wild ones, from out of the city. They had fuzzy hides and did not taste as weird. It tasted more like a rabbit to him.

He should get a rabbit soon, as much to share with his tiny companion. As to save the hide and fur for Cassidy and her family back in the library.

John smiled a bit at the jump, before the tiny woman looked up where she was kneeling trying to coax her coal to a life again. She gave a deep breath and nodded, “yeah… yes. I- oh no it went out.”

John set the mole rat and dish aside, shifting to stretch out on his side near but not too close to Cassidy. The ghoul-man’s dark eyes taking in the little camp Cassidy had been starting to set up through the broken cabinet. “What were ya trying to do with the dishes in there, little sister?”

Cassidy sat back, taking a deep breath, sitting on her knees as she looked up at the giant. Grateful he had laid down partly so he was not as towering. She looked down at the once little fire attempt in her bottle cap. Her cheeks flushed, “I was trying to set up a bath… it's been a few days and I feel gross after we crossed that river… you saved me from the mud! But….it's just…”

Cassidy tossed her arms out, waving them to show her normally green and brown dyed clothes were very…. Grey. And she knew she smelled still. “Gross. I was going to try and clean my clothes and… me since you said we would camp so early.”

The giant man tilted his head, blinked those eerier but pretty black eyes before he looked down and took a slow, deep breath. He made a face and then a sheepish look. “I think I got nose blind, eh?”

There was a soft giggle that Cassidy was trying to hold in.

John smiled, his scarring pulling it lopsided to the left. He gave a playful snort. “Can I help?”

He at least found some preserved clothes to change into, in the old building their camp was in. John watched Cassidy look between the cabinets, John himself, and then to the small cooking fire, to him. A massive bonfire to her little self. He could see the moment Cassidy realized that she could ask for some help. 

“...can I have some warm water?” Cassidy finally asked, turning back. 

John nodded, having no problem with that as he started to sit up. Glancing at the fire and the pot of water on the other side. It was not boiling but just starting to simmer. “What were you wanting to use as a little sister?”

Cassidy looked relieved and sat up, “There's a few bowls and… I think it's a tea cup? One or both I can make use of, for sure.” 

John shifted, starting to reach around Cassidy and carefully checked the door of the cabinet. It took a second but the door popped free and squeaked open to show the neat stacks of dishes inside. John could see the miniature camp under one of the wire racks for plates. And bowls. He saw a stack of clothes to the far left. 

“Okay, scoot so I can reach things better, Cassidy.” John said as the ghoul started to move closer. Pausing to let his tiny companion pick up the cap and moved to be by the first door opened. Watching with wide eyes as John carefully pried open the other door to the cabinet. Cassidy always looked up at him with that odd wonder as he moved dishes from under the cabinet to the counter above. Like he was the strongest person in the world.

Maybe he was, to her.

It was… an oddly nice feeling.

“I’ll put the plates back before we go,” John explained, as he was testing the wire rack. “This is getting old, but it’ll be fine for the next few days.”

“Days?” Cassidy asked confused as she stood beside the open cabinet to see what John was doing. Backing up as he lowered a cup, more coffee mug, to her level. Cassidy grasped the edge, it was about even with her neck as she rested her hands on the side. “Oh… this would be lovely…”

She would just need a few steps to get in, and maybe something inside. To brace against that while inside of the smooth walls, there should be some nice pebbles for that! 

“We’re pretty much at the old mall location,” John said, leaving the mug and then reaching for those cloths to the far left. Finding the best looking of them, setting one beside Cassidy’s little camp area under the wire rack, then paused, “Where do you want the mug once the doors are closed?”

“Beside the support pole?” Cassidy asked, peering in. “That would help me get a hand hold if there’s not some clean pebbles.”

“Pebbles?” John asked, tilting his head. 

“I can climb in and out with it dry, and grippy shoes.” Cassidy leaned on the cool, but still large coffee mug, bouncing a bit beside it. Then as she still had her shoes on, the rubber-leather ones. Able to climb up and then sit on the side of the mug, kicking her legs inside the mug as she balanced. She hopped down into the mug, finding it was a little taller on the inside so she could fold her arms comfortably on the edge and look up at John. Having found that sometimes it was a lot easier to show the giant man something then trying to explain it. 

 “I need steps. And a pebble inside would help me keep my balance. It’s too slick to climb out of without shoes, and it, everything, being wet.” Cassidy paused, realizing she was being stared at, “Are you okay, John?”

“Why,” The man took a breath and sighed before his scarred hands moved to wrap around the mug, hesitating for a moment. With no protest though, he carefully lifted Cassidy up so they could look at eachother better. “Do you have to be so godsdamn cute, little sister?”

Cassidy flushed, not expecting that as she hid her face against the ceramic for a moment. “I can’t be that cute.”

“You really are,” John chuckled as he tapped the side of the cup’s rim. Pausing as a miniscule hand patted his finger tip. “Now, under the rack you wanted?”

Cassidy nodded, still fighting her blush as her mug was set down gently. Shifting as John gently tilted the mug on its side to let her out in the area. But paused as Cassidy moved to tug on his fingers to set the mug solidly on it’s side under the rack, “Yeah, I liked this spot. and this here. Can you set it up?”

“Yes Ma’am.” John drawled, amused but agreeable as he reached for those cloths again. Setting the top one aside and then inspecking the others before moving the coffee mug. A little dust but shaking them to the side he offered one of the smaller wash cloths. “...or, can you use these instead? There's a few.” 

Cassidy looked up and came over to his hand, smoothing her own over the clean coth. It really was just a bit of dust that was shaken off. “What is it made of? It's still so soft…” 

“It’s one of those pre-war materials. Some were made with… what did Daisy call it…? ‘Synthetic fibers’ that last a long time.” John said as he stretched his legs out, using the tip of his shoe out of sight from Cassidy to nudge the water pot a bit farther away from the fire. “You can find them in hidden spots like here. Just clean them up, shake off dust if any. Good as new.”

“How many are you going to need?” Cassidy wondered, just managing to pull up the washcloth up into her arms. It looked like a large quilt to her frame as she fought a yawn.

“I don’t need more than one of the bigger ones to wash up.” John slipped his hand away and then inspected the rest of the washcloths, at a concerned look up he grinned and added, “I think I saw some old clothes upstairs sister, I can change out of the mud stained stuff. But a full bath is a lot harder for my big ass to do, than for you. Just because I’m stuck cleaning up a little slower, doesn’t mean you can’t get a bath before bed.”

“Are you sure?” Cassidy fussed, putting the cloth into the mug. She looked back and squeaked as her big protector put the stack of washcloths down by her other things. Then flipped one of the bigger cloths over the wire rack to make a tent almost. She saw how John set several aside in the cabinet, keeping a good four for himself. “I feel guilty…”

“No need to, little sister. You can enjoy the advantages of being small on a trip. Now… how about this?” The giant, scarred man sat back a moment to consider all the dishes still in the cabinet. Reaching up to the second shelf that Cassidy has not explored yet. Bringing down something she had only seen in pictures of cooking books. “Would this work better? About the same amount of water but not as much…drowning risk.”

“Is that a… ramekin?” Cassidy marveled once it was set down, she had only seen pictures in books! It was a good two and a half inches deep! Shallower than the mug but it was almost twice as long as she was tall. 

“Not sure,” John admitted, looking it over, no cracks at all. It was in great condition like the other dishes, the inside even looked clean, so he was trying not to touch it. “Big enough for you to do all the cleaning stuff?”

“Yes,” Cassidy nodded, she lit up and asked as John was shifting away, “I didn't get up to that table yet, the big one you set your bags, but the box up there? Does it really say candles?”

John glanced over as he hunched by the fire. “It does, good eye sister. Here… this is for you- don't jump in it's still hot. I'll check it out.”

The giant, scarred man set the odd bowl-ramiken thing down on one of the larger cloths. Getting up to walk across the room and checking the box. It looked like a part of supplies someone- likely that skeleton in the bedroom, had tried to gather supplies. Or salvage some?

The cardboard broke just under the light pressure of his fingers, and the plastic under. Yet even he could smell wax, old but still good as far as he could tell. Four larger candles, two medium and the rest of the space of the once box had been filled with those tea-cup candles of different colors. He knew of several pre war ladies who liked them, and Daisy always seemed to buy them from scavengers. About as big as a small bundle of caps, in a tiny tin or aluminum cup. 

They were cute. 

John tapped the wax, still seemed good. He reached into a pocket to find his familiar lighter, lighting one. Almost dropped it as the wax was not attached to its tin. But after a few seconds he was sure the tea-cup candles would stay lit, John picked up a good handful in his now free left hand before coming back. 

“You were right, little sister,” John said, glancing at the still open cabinet, crouching down to place the lit candle down by the tiny camp. Grinning at the just delighted and amazed gasp before he set the others of different colors near. “Candles! But more of them are closer to your size. Daisy calls them tea-cup candles. I think. But that will give enough light for you in there?”

“It's giving so much heat too,” Cassidy marveled, coming over to feel the warmth. Lighting up herself as she took a deep breath, it smelled really good too! She looked at the other candles and then upwards, judging but the cloth above seemed to be safely well out of the range of any danger. With the wire rack- her cloths might dry really well in here!

Cassidy looked up at the large dark eyes of her guardian. “This is amazing John!”

“There's more than enough for you to use here, and we have enough to take back your home.” John grinned as he sat back on his heels, “Gonna close the doors, mostly. Get yourself a bath sister. I'll get dinner and breakfast ready.”

“John?” Cassidy bounced over to the edge of the cabinet as one door was closed and as she motioned as if for him to get closer. Or motioned to his right hand. She caught the larger hand, not at all bothered by the old radiation scars, but wrapped her arms around two of his fingers. Hugging them as tight as she could. “That you John, for taking me with you to get things for the colony. For protecting me from those monsters at the river.”

Oh.

Oh no.

His rad-withered heart was leaking out of his chest. 

It took a few seconds for the startled man to get his thoughts together. And flexed his other hand over his chest as if that would keep his heart there let alone his composure. His voice dropped into a low rumble as John dared to rub the pad of his thumb against the tiny young woman's side. 

“Oh, don't do that… you're melting what's left of my insides.” The ghoul-man tried to start then face up pretty quick as little eyes looked up at him. 

“Affection isn't going to make you combust.”

He hummed, shoulders dropping but kept his hand still while it was captured. “...you're welcome Cassidy. Now get, I still have to skin that molerat.”

“Save the hide? Please?” Cassidy ask as she finally released the large hand and moved back to the warm light of the tea candle while the other cabinet door closed almost all the way like before.

“That was the plan.” John rumbled, moving back to his fire in a big, swallow pan. Something from the once water heater of the next building over. With that on a rug it was as safe as he could do for now. “I think more of your leathery self is melting than just your mushy heart.”

But.

He liked this. Exploring about, and maybe it was also nice to be seen as a friend as well as a protector.

He liked being just John, even if only for a week or two. Not being a scary ghoul. Or The Scary Ghoul Mayor Hancock.

It was also the strangest, and funniest thing getting scolded by someone only three and a half inches too tall for running into a spider web.

[includedisco]

Title: Promises and Second Chances

Characters: Fadel, Style

Pairing: FadelStyle

Fandom: The Heart Killers

Tags: post canon, mild angst, arguing, reconciliation, boys in love, emotional hurt/comfort, Established Relationship

warnings: none

Word Count: 700

Summary: After a heated argument, Fadel storms out of the house, feeling betrayed by Style's broken promise. Determined to make things right, Style follows Fadel, leading to a heartfelt conversation

-

Fadel storms out of his house, his anger still simmering from his earlier argument with Style. He needs to clear his head, to get some space. The cool evening air hits his face as he walks down the quiet street, his thoughts a whirlwind of frustration and hurt.

Behind him, Style watches Fadel's retreating figure with a heavy heart. He knows Fadel can take perfect care of himself out there in the dark at 11pm in the night, but he can’t bear the thought of him being out there alone. With a determined sigh, Style grabs his phone and follows.

They walk for a little while, Style not far behind Fadel.

"Stop following me," Fadel suddenly calls over his shoulder, his voice tinged with irritation.

"Oh, do you want me to walk beside you? Maybe hold hands with you?" Style jogs up to Fadel, a playful glint in his eyes as he reaches for Fadel's hand.

Fadel slides his hand out of Style's grasp, but Style stubbornly takes it again.

"Style, I'm serious," Fadel says, his tone softening slightly despite himself.

"I know," Style replies, his voice gentle. "But I don't want you to be alone right now. We should work this out together….at home where it’s safe and not so dark." He implores.

Fadel doesn’t say anything else.

They walk in silence for another long while, the tension between them palpable. Fadel's anger begins to subside, replaced by a deep sense of weariness. He glances at Style, who is looking straight ahead, his expression earnest and determined.

Fadel tends to find it oddly uncomfortable when his mouthy boyfriend is silent like this, but for tonight he is thankful because he’s really not in the mood for Style’s brand of madness.

"You lied to me again, Style," Fadel finally states, his voice barely above a whisper. "You promised me you’d never hide anything from me again."

Style squeezes Fadel’s hand gently. "I know, and I'm sorry. I shouldn't have lied about using that loan to bail my aunt out of jail. I just... I was embarrassed."

"But she’s your family even if she’s a con artist," Fadel reasons, stopping in his tracks and turning to face Style. "We hide nothing from each other no matter how ugly or embarrassing. Obviously she matters to you if you spent all that money to help her out. What matters to you matters to me too. I thought you knew that.”

Style's eyes glisten with guilt and regret. "I…I don’t know. Maybe I wasn’t thinking. I get why you’re upset. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Fadel's shoulders sag as he lets out a deep breath. "I just don't want to feel like I can't trust you."

Style steps closer, cupping Fadel's face in his hands. "You can trust me. I'll do better. I promise. I love you more than anything, and I don't want to lose you over something like this."

Fadel's anger melts away in the face of Style's sincerity. He wraps his arms around Style, pulling him into a tight embrace. "Losing me is a stretch." he murmured after a moment.

Style sighs in relief, finally relaxing a little in Fadel’s arms, “I’m sorry.” He feels the need to say

“Stop doing things behind my back.”

“I won’t. I mean it.”

“Make your promise count this time.”

“I will. If you ever want to take me up on my offer of killing all my relatives in exchange for my lies, you can start with my con artist aunt. Let's go home and talk this out, okay?"

Fadel nods against Style’s chest, his arms wrapped securely around him. "Okay," he whispers.

Hand in hand, they walk back to the house. The night air feels a little warmer, and the weight of their argument begins to lift with each step they take.

Style reaches for his phone and busies himself tapping and scrolling away.

“What are you doing?” Fadel inquires, peering at the screen of Style’s phone.

“Making a music playlist for our makeup sex. Any requests?” He asks with a smirk, and Fadel help but smile back, shaking his head with a mixture of amusement and bashfulness as he looks away.

-END-

Thank you for reading ❤️

If you liked this story, please visit my Ao3 for more.

[thatonecrookedsmile]

I would say that, considering his history, he's not that wrong, but even I have doubts as to whether that would be right. But at the end of the day, this is just a joke that's been in my head for a while, sooooo…eh.

Oh hey, an attempt at a comic? Made by me? That I didn't give up during the process or lost all motivation? What was my only attempt at this, 2019? Damn, it's been a long time.

I thought about leaving this here without editing or any colors, just the natural ones from the paper and pencil. But something in my head said "HAHAHA, no" so I went back to work. I had to put this idea down on paper this time (literally). If another year passes without me being able to execute this idea, I would lose my mind.

This scenario was inspired by this video by Jehtt, inspired by the original meme by Windii. Credits to both of them.

For a long time I wanted to joke - especially on the anniversary - that I wanted Sammy to only have less than 5 seconds in the next game (or in other words, take his screen time in DR, and shorten it even more). You know, just for the funnies (unless..?) But,thanks to the news released at the beginning of January this year about The Cage, I legally can't do this joke anymore…this year. Don't worry, after that comes out (and finally gives Sam the screen time he wants,hopefully) and we start to crawl into the Bendy 3 production era, I'll make this joke when I can.

Anyway, happy birthday Sammy Lawrence. You may not be my favorite character in this franchise, but there are some things I can actually appreciate about you. Plus, you made me laugh a few moments before (you know what I'm talking about) so there's that.

And happy 7 years to Chapter 2, and by extension, Susie, Norman, Alice, the Searchers, (Johnny????), and Beta Ink Bendy. (I would mention Jack too, but he was only introduced with the release of CH4, so technically it's not his birthday yet, but I'll consider him here).

And now? May I be able to do something for CH4's anniversary. Wish me luck,cus I'll need it.

(it might be really late now, but it's still the 18th where I live, so it's still his birthday, so I still won)

[lamefish]

when fratboy!satoru takes your virginity you kind of expect him to be an ass about it. he's cocky as it is, and has a habit of gassing himself up too much when it comes to his... skills in the bedroom. if you're not listening to him talk about how he's the strongest, you're listening to him talk about how he's the biggest.

being the only virgin of your friend group was starting to grate on you and... a small part of you might've wanted to find out if there's any bite to satoru's bark. it's not like the two of you were dating or anything, but you felt comfortable enough to walk up to him one day during lunch and ask, in front of his best friend:

"will you take my virginity?"

maybe you expected him to blush. or freeze up. or at least trip over his words. but instead, the stupid white-haired prick looked up at you with the most relaxed expression possible and shrugged.

"okay."

and that's how you ended up here, sitting criss-cross applesauce on his messy dorm-room bed with his tongue halfway down your throat. a few empty cans of beer and abandoned cheat sheets lay strewn over his floor, and you hate yourself for letting this be the backdrop of your entry into the sex-having life.

but you can’t hate yourself for long because as he runs a hand up your thigh and under your skirt, you start to feel more excited than you thought you’d feel. he pushes you back, slots his knee between your thighs and bites at your bottom lip before trailing down to your throat.

still, it’s satoru, so when he pushes your panties to the side and feels just how wet you are for him, he laughs. “you get this wet when you touch yourself or is all of this just for me?”

“shut up,” you groan as he nips at the skin of your throat and gently runs his finger through your folds and up to your clit. you’re surprised he knows where your clit is, even.

and he’s not wrong—you’ve never been wet like this before. you can feel just how damp the fabric of your panties are you as satoru pulls them down your thighs and hikes your skirt up to get a clearer look at your soaked cunt.

“pretty,” he licks his lips. “wannna taste her, that okay baby?”

his eyes search yours for consent and you’re stunned for a moment as he waits for ‘enthusiastic consent’. you didn’t expect this sort of check-in from a frat boy. your nod seems enthusiastic enough to him, but just for clarity—“use your words.”

“yes. please, gojo.”

“satoru,” he corrects you. “want to hear that name when you cum on my tongue. cant believe no ones tasted her before.”

the use of referring to your pussy as ‘her’ is odd but quickly overlooked when he delves into your pussy like he’s dehydrated. tongue flat against your heat just to flex and circle around your clit. he sucks and bites a little and pulls you to your first orgasm in nasty speeds.

you cum on his tongue whilst his eyes bore into yours from between your thighs. white hair pulled out of his face by your hand as you tug the strands in hopes that he’ll stop licking at your overstimulated clit. it takes until you’re shaking for him to finally pull back and free his angry cock from his pants.

you think you gasp when you see it. he said he was big but you didn’t think he was a truthful man in the slightest. his cock is so heavy it doesn’t even stand at full mast—it fights gravity. satoru sees the look on your face and instead of sporting a shit-eating grin like you expect, he climbs over you and presses a soft kiss to your forehead.

“let’s stop here?” he asks. “we could watch a movie. oooh what about die hard?”

you giggle, your nerves melting a little at his words. “i’m okay, i want this. i am not graduating as a virgin.”

satoru snorts and, after rolling a condom on, gently pries your legs apart enough for him to slot his wait in between them. he guides your ankles to link behind his back and slowly runs the tip of his cock through your slick folds. “tell me if you need me to stop,” he says. “just relax. i’ve got you, baby.”

you actually manage to relax a little, focus on the feeling of being stretched as satoru slowly pushes into you until his tip is completely hidden in your cunt. it’s uncomfortable, but not unbearable. “keep going.”

one of his long fingers dips down to rub soft circles over your clit to relax you a little more as he pushes deeper. you’ve never felt so full, so sore yet desperate for more… you wonder if it’s always going to feel like this, or if it’s just because satoru is the one breaking you open to find pleasure in your insides.

he lets out a pretty moan as he bottoms out inside of you, the weight of his heavy balls resting against your ass as he stills and catches your lips in a wet kiss. his tongue slips into your mouth, runs over your teeth and pushes against your tongue as he slowly draws out of you and then, with a grunt that you taste, snaps his hips forwards into you.

that hurts, but there’s an odd stitch of pleasure in the way he’s broken you open. “sorry,” he speaks against your lips. “it’s better that i just got it out of the way, it can start feeling real good soon. gonna make you cum on my cock, baby. you want that?”

you nod, eyes staring into his as your foreheads meet. satoru nods back, licking his lips and smiling. “yeah? you wanna be stuffed full, huh? always knew you were filthy. but i’m the only one that gets to see it.”

his arrogance pulls at your lips. “until i fuck the next guy.”

snap. his cock splits you open at that, and though you wince and screw your face us, you’re letting out moans made for porn too. his finger on your clit starts working a little faster as he draws back again just to drive into you even harder.

“no,” he dips his head down to bite at your neck. “not until you fuck the next guy. i mean you can try, baby, but it’s not happening.”

“ngh, what do you mean?”

another thrust into you sends you further up the bed. you’re sure you look a mess but satoru looks down at you with such wide blown eyes that you could be convinced you’re from the heavens. “not giving you up that easy,” he groans. “you know, i fucked someone last week just because they had your name. got to moan it without being slapped. again.”

your hand flies up to his chest, almost in an attempt to slow his now mean pace. “wait you—ngh god—you like me?”

“i’m far fucking past like,” he moans, hips starting to stutter. any discomfort has faded into glorious pleasure. your stomach starts to tighten again and you know you’re close enough that he’s going to try and time your orgasms. “you’re so perfect. so much better than i imagined.”

your eyes roll back a little at the thought of satoru fucking his fist late at night to the thought of you. how nonchalant he was when you asked him to take your virginity, you wonder if he went home last night and stroked himself to the sheer anticipation of being inside of you.

“satoru i’m gonna—”

he cuts you off with a deep kiss. it’s sex and want and lust, but it’s also soft in a way you can’t describe—maybe even a little anxious after his confession. it might just be his pending orgasm, but you swear his lips tremble between yours.

his cock throbs as he drills it into you, hits your most sensitive spot with every single thrust. it’s like he already has you mapped out, because you’re both cumming in tandem with each other before long.

a part of you aches to feel his cum spill into you instead of the condom he wears, to be claimed and filled by his seed over and over. would he fuck it back into you? clean you off with his talented tongue? would he plug you with his cock until he’s ready to overfill you with a second load?

he moans into your mouth and pulls back a little to revel in your fucked out expression. your legs still wrap around his waist, boxing him in and keeping him close. you worry that in typical frat boy fashion he’ll make an excuse and run off to recount the fuck with his friends. but satoru pecks at your lips, then your chin, then down your neck again.

“what are you doing?” you ask, vision slightly blurred from the intensity of your orgasm.

“gonna make you cum again,” he smiles against your skin. “didn’t you hear?”

“hear what?”

he pulls back to look at you, a soft smile pulling at his pretty lips. “that if you cum at least five times when you lose your virginity, you’ll fall in loooove.”

[screampied]

ʚ FINISH INSIDE HER ?! ɞ

ᡴꪫ sum. what the hell is a full nelson? no worries, luckily underground boxer toji shows you a hands-on demonstration. although, you want choso to try it with you too. not only are you a slut visual learner, but you also think you can take them both - not in a fight though.

wc. 5.8k

warnings. fem! reader, boxer! au, boxers toji & choso, 3sum, choso walks in on you and toji, unprotected, full nelson, manhandling, brief ōral (f + m), quickie, size diff, finger sucking, praise, dirty talk, choking, they fight over you, whiny choso, squırting, impact play, slight nıpple play, premature ejac, spıt.

an. kind of based on this ask!

“upsie daisey, uh huh. biiiiig fuckin’ stretch,” your mouth drops open once your thighs gets sprawled apart. your back slumps back against the fighter — toji, you’ve been training with him for a while. not only were you training with him but you’ve also been a bit of a fan. you mentioned to him on how you wanted to strengthen your ‘flexibility’ a bit more and of course, he had just the right thing to help you. out of curiosity, you asked him about a certain position you watched him perform on his rival, choso kamo. full nelson, it was considered illegal in some rings if not all. toji would always perform a specific choking move where he’d pin choso down with ease, burly buff arms putting him in a head lock - preventing him from moving a single inch. the entire crowd always goes wild at it every single time—so you wanted to try it out for yourself. “easy, easy. don’t tap out on me jus’ yet, okay? y’er a big girl.”

bobbling your head to give him a nod, an airy breeze shoves you back into his chest. the stretchy fabric of his boxing shorts tickle against your skin upon impact. “o- okay,” you breathe, gasping once he hooks two big arms underneath the undersides of your thighs. he’s got such a good taut grip that seconds later, you felt yourself throb a bit at the feverish, hot friction. “you’re not really gonna, heh, choke me out right?”

“not unless y’er into that, princess,” he jibes, a throaty husk of a chuckle leaving out of him. and as you’re spread all out, limbs extended—yeah,

you were probably fucked.

after what seems like hours of meaningless stretches and exercises to prepare your limbs, toji’s finally got you in the position — you were sprawled right in his lap, being in a safe firm chokehold.

his voice was roughly gruff, and as he spreads your legs just a bit further, you feel the cottony bandage that wraps around his arm ghost up against your thigh. his touch was gentle and you intake a sharp breath, further continuing to lean into his touch - his grasp. “mhm, seems like y’er a bit more flexible than i thought. this comfy?”

“no,” you let off a sheepish snort, starting to feel a brief pang on your thighs from the position. to be fair — not only was full nelson uncomfortable but it was dangerous. just one wrong move and snap. but toji was a professional, he’d make sure you’d keep all your pretty little limbs in tact. probably. clearing your throat, your eyes scan around a plethora of trophies and plaques he’s won throughout his career. “but um, have you ever tried this position with no clothes on?”

toji grows quiet, allowing you to lie back on his chest. black curly strands of chest hair fondle against your skin before he murmurs gruffly into your ear. “maybe.”

the growing bulge that hid underneath his boxers had you almost feral. you felt its presence—how it was just there, poking right against your shorts.

you prepare for yet another sharp drawn out breath, taking in his loud axe cologne that wafts through the entire studio. “can we try nude?”

and that was probably dumb to ask.

it was very dumb to ask.

your lewd filthy thoughts loved to make themselves known out of your lips at the worst times. your heart raced the moment you blurted that out, feeling the tips of your ears burn a scorching temperature. he’d say no, you were almost sure of it. you were just a dumb fan who managed to be a favorite, surely he wouldn’t—

“why the hell not,” he snickers, sliding his hands toward the smooth curvature of your hips. “i’ll go easy on ya for today. let’s get rid of these,” he pulls on the string of your panties, already discarding your shorts with such quickness. “i’ll try not ‘ta break you too bad.”

but that was a lie—

not only did he break you but he stretched you out in all the ways possible.

you had the most dumbest expression, tongue lolled out, legs spread, gushing all over the velvet red boxing mat - time and time again.

pink luminescent lighting shine back against the centers of your irises as you stare up at the ceiling’s lights. you’ve never felt so weak. spit slick lips of yours were all swollen and numb from being chewed on constantly like candy. within minutes, your knees were already surrendering, bucking at his very mercy.

“fuck, tooooji.” you’d drag out his name in cute elongated syllables.

the infamous elastic stretch of his cock has you writhe and spasm all over his lap. ludicrously, your voice bounces across the cheap walls of the building. nevertheless, you can’t lie to yourself, you’ve rubbed a few out at the thought of having this moment with your favorite boxer.

unprofessional, maybe. but he didn’t care and neither did you. besides, he was helping you with your flexibility after all. even if it was a bit more intimate than most regular methods.

your heart races, thumping out quick hurried beats as he’s shoving his cock in and out of you. you’re in such a submissive position that you were just a bobble head, a doll. he treated you like one — using your body, bouncing you up and down and manhandling you all over the mat.

he gruffly cackles behind the plushy shell of your ear, watching right before his eyes as you’re jouncing on his dick. your skin was so warm, so hot, the recoil stings for a few seconds before your ass ricochets off his sharp pelvis.

the smacks and paps only grew louder, and so did your sweet melodic moans and whimpers.

a creamy pearl of a ring coats around his base and he grunts, still having a beefy arm around your neck. his muscles flex and you fight the urge to bite his bicep. “easy, good girl. lean right into me. y’er a natural.”

his words went straight to your cunt. toji was a dirty talker, never a sweet talker.

he knew how to get you wet, whether it was with his slick mouth, his tongue, or even his cock. his voice was always so low, timbre and all. the husk that it carried never failed to make you soaked. embarrassing,

oh, it definitely was embarrassing.

he’s got a free hand gripping onto your thigh, kissing your ass with his palm - rough rude spanks.

the cute flinches of your rear bouncing back against his lap makes him slide a tongue over his lips, including sliding over that notorious scar that slides down the right side of his mouth. “fuck, so fuckin’ sloppy. got the mat all soaked. should make ya lick it up, huh.”

you couldn’t even reply . . you tried, but babbles of inaudible squeaks came out instead.

it just felt too good, he felt too good.

you’re panting heavily, the repetitive pop song that blared through the boxing ring’s broken speakers gets stuck in your head. you hear the moist wails of your pussy squelching time and time again, entirely soaking yourself with your own beloved filth. a free hand of toji’s creeps its way in front of you. hand so big that he could easily cover it over your entire face if he could.

with glossy half-lidded eyes, you stare at his palm, feeling your mouth water.

thick long fingers, he knew what he was doing.

toji’s just casually waving his hand around in your face in a slow mesmerizing motion as you bounced on his cock. they were so lengthy and thick, his arms had prodding veins for days. from his wrist to the edge of his arm, you saw the veins poking out. he was so built that you couldn’t help but stare, couldn’t help but drool. “what a sloppy little girl. i could really snap you in half, heh,” he huffs, clenched abs pressing against your back. it’s hard, rock hard . . they feel like bricks.

you knew underground boxers like toji had to keep up a strict workout routine but damn.

“but you’d like that, huh,” he murmurs, bringing another smack to your slick wet folds. you moan at the stretch of your limbs, craving for more of his rude spanks against your swollen cunt. you throbbed from not only his words but his touch too, and the thought of him literally breaking you had you a bit more soaked than you thought it would.

this was a workout of its own - rutting your weight up and down against him. he’s got a secure hold on your body, holding your thighs up in place.

you were stupid, not even acknowledging that you’d already grab ahold of his wrist, stuffing his fingers into your mouth. you moan the second the dry bandaged digits delve past your lips and makings way down your throat. as your ass steadily rocks against him in sloppy rhythm, you feel the very tips of his fingers prod against your puny uvula. you almost gag at the unexpected feeling—a cobwebby trail of saliva that was translucent pours down the side of your parted lips.

“no manners, tch,” he scoffs and his ripped abs continue to brush up against your back. “sloppy baby. got some nerve showin’ up to train being this fuckin’ nasty ‘n soaked.”

the hot skin against skin contact rubbing off against each other had your panties in a bunch, despite them already being technically pulled to the side and abandoned.

you were already still sensitive, swollen achy cunt sobbing out its own pleas of pleasure.

haphazardly, your knees buckle and he snatches his fingers out of your mouth. he does this solely to get a taste himself, swirling his pink pointed tongue against his slippery digits all thanks to you. “startin’ ‘ta think you came here for more than to just get an autograph ‘n work out with me, pretty girl.”

and as the plump crown of his cock molds you a tiny brief bulge from just his size alone — it repeatedly thrashes up against your sweetest spot. you shudder, about to collapse backward before you hear the jingling bells of the front door sound off.

“h- hey, toji man. did i leave my . . gloves . . ?”

choso, toji’s rival and regular training partner stares at the erotic scene and his face twists.

“oh,” and he’s flustered right away.

you stop bouncing and your eyes widen as big as saucers—yet, you weren’t even embarrassed. you were in awe, you knew all about choso kamo.

the choso kamo, anyone would be crazy not too. he was the most recent up and coming boxer, and after beating toji with a brutal close score of 58-57.

as you’re reclined back against toji—you finally get a good look at the other dark haired boxer.

he was slim yet also well built, choso was known for fighting opponents with his iconic ponytails but as of currently - he started to wear his hair down. sometimes he’d pin it up, a bit of a wolf cut that flew down his broad shoulders.

as his bashful gaze met yours, he grew nervous. very nervous.

black sable hued shorts cling onto his hips whilst he was shirtless, a few past battle scars painting the entire canvas of his perfectly chiseled body. “am i . . interrupting something?”

“nah. c’mere, ‘cho,” a husky voice calls out and he pauses in his tracks. the air suddenly clouded its way with imaginary thick smoke of lust and tension. it’s so thick you could cut it with a knife.

he swallows—dragging his bare feet across the crimson red mat toward you both, ducking underneath the stretchy multicolored bars before gawking at you. he was far pretty up close once he entered the practice ring, he runs a hand behind his neck before averting his eyes away from your nude body out of respect.

“he’s always been kinda shy,” toji purrs to you, still buried deep into your cunt. you shiver, every movement he makes makes—even just sitting up makes you let off a soft noise. you chew the inside of your cheek, feeling a stickiness stick between your thighs. dark green eyes flicker at choso and he hums, tilting his head. “choso, you know how to do full nelson too, yeah?”

“y- yeah, of course i do why?”

“you’re avoiding eye contact again.”

choso gulps - burying his hands into the burrows of his shorts pockets. a sheet of sweat marinates across his forehead before he glances at toji, rephrasing. “eh, yeah i know how to do full nelson. why?”

“because,” toji smacks his lips, a hand prying its way between the valley of your legs. you moan, still feeling full from tepid hot dumps of his cum practically oozing out of your puffy slit. “we’ve got a new opponent ‘n she wants to experience what it’s really like on the ring.”

“toji, we do full nelson all the time,” choso timidly runs a bundle of fingers through his buzzed undercut, a timid smile curling against his lips. “we never usually do it um . . naked though.”

the boxer underneath you deadpans. he could be so dense, choso stands still before a small gasp wrenches out of his pink glossed lips.

“oh.. oh,” and his face turns into a flustered tint.

you’ve watched a bit of his interviews and it seemed not only was he shy with the press but he was also very shy in person. it was cute, regardless.

as you’re busy being trapped up in your own thoughts, choso can’t help but peek down toward your legs. you were all exposed and being stretched out by his rival. he sucks his teeth in longing, briefly staring away before feeling himself grow a bit . . aroused. “i feel disrespectful for looking, ‘m sorry.”

“no, it’s okay,” you murmur in coy reassurance, and a hand tugs onto his wrist. choso’s breath hitches at your touch, and you felt his dark eyes flicker back toward you. there’s this look in choso’s eyes, it’s mainly lust-driven. his pupils were blown and his heart raced, you looked so pretty. it’s not like he didn’t exactly not know you. he’d see you every so often when you were ‘training’ with toji. not only that but he’d spot you attending almost every boxing match. always in the front row with a vip lanyard. secretly, you were more of a choso fan but toji didn’t have to know that. “do you wanna touch me too?”

“yes,” he blurts out almost right away and his face flushes a deeper shade. a rumble from toji shakes his shoulders - he’s chuckling, and you feel a big arm wrap around your torso. you bite down on your lip, still feeling yourself sit in a creamy puddle of filth, warm cum still plugged into you. choso starts to pant, watching you slither a hand between your thighs, spreading your soppy pussy lips. “i mean.. oh, that’s..” and he’s barely able to think straight, watching as you toy with yourself whilst still being full of toji’s thickset cock. his head starts to spin before he inches closer, kneeling down after your cute hand gestures to come here. “a- are you sure you want me to—”

“it’s okay, go ahead.” you hum, guiding his wrist.

“choso, she’s not gonna bite ya,” toji snickers, bringing your legs back down. as of now — you were currently straddling him with your back facing his chest. choso rubs his neck once more, growing sheepish yet again. it’s adorable, but again, he’s seen you at his matches and face offs. choso being choso though was far too shy to say anything or thank you for your support. but now, maybe he could thank you in another way. toji crosses his arms, cocking his head as he glances at the scene. “atta boy.”

a scowl forms on the timid boxer as his fingers resume to brush up against your drooling cunt. “s- shut up, toji,” and you let off a moan at his gentle strokes. you continue to lie back against toji - staring at choso, ogles as two plump fingers of his partner’s play up and down against your soddened entrance. choso’s mouth starts to water the more he stares, admiring how full you were—you had a few remnants of toji’s cum oozing from your slit and he swipes it up, bedaubing it against your pussy to make it sheeny again. “f- fuck, you’re so pretty.”

“you can t- touch me more, choso,” you lightly pause his hand by grabbing his wrist. his eyes meet yours and he felt the tent in his boxers tighten. oh, he was already whipped from the sound of your voice. with half lidded smoky eyes, he huffs out a single breath before glancing at your lips. you climb off of toji and a brief pop exits your cunt - dragging choso closer. “are you hard, choso?”

“he’s definitely hard,” toji tchs, averting his jade green eyes toward his partner’s shorts. it was hard to not notice the presentable bulge that’s sticking right in front of his leather everlast brand shorts. “cute.”

“shut up man,” he repeats with a glowering scowl.

with a cute dramatic sigh, choso grumbles something under his breath - trying to pay more attention back toward you. he leans into your touch, closing the gap between your legs until he’s right between you. choso presses a chaste kiss against your collarbone before moaning into your tender skin. he couldn’t help but suck against your shoulder for a few seconds, relishing in your candied flavor.

you were so sweet - bandaged hands roam everywhere on your displayed body before he exhales deeply, staring at you with almost heart shaped pupils. “you . . wanna try full nelson with me too, princess?”

throwing your arms over him, you hum with a subtle nod. “yeah, ‘s okay. i can handle it.”

famous last words,

with choso . . he stretched you all the way out, probably even more than toji.

his cock was just as thick, maybe even more. his fat reddened tip swelters the inside of your sopping pussy so good until you’re whimpering his name on constant loop. it’s like a mantra, you’re so dumb that it’s like his five lettered name was the only thing your brain could comprehend to say.

he’s got you upright in the same exact position before, slinging two beefy arms underneath your thighs as your weight bounces and defies gravity.

“fuck, fuck,” he whines, the addictive squeeze your cunt had never failed to make itself known. he reached any and every area so deep. choso had a delicious curve to his cock that sent you straight butterflies. it expands through your walls, french kissing your insides until you whine. his base was repeatedly getting smacked from your ass, each ‘n every time you jerked up from his lap. “y- you’re so good. so warm, ‘m gonna pass out.”

“aren’t you the boxer though?” you try to tease, but your cheeky voice falters the second his slitted tip kisses against that spot.

your vision was merely blurry, seeing nothing but a kaleidoscope of stars. in almost defeat, your head falls back against his chest and toji watches the entire time, buff arms crossed and an amused cunning expression. seeing you milk his rival was something he didn’t know would turn him on so much.

choso doesn’t reply to your little jest, still pumping such fat inches inside of your gripping walls. he’s already dumb, knocked out cold with a solid punch - not necessarily from an opponent, but your pussy. “hang onto me, ‘kay? this position requires lots of um . . s- stamina.”

as you nod, your entire body dangles and bobs from the movement — parching hot friction gluing against each jolting limb before you spasm.

“chosoooo,” and your thighs collapse, coming to its pleasurable demise. his thrusts were sloppy, the squelches of your own body was so lewd. you heard it through and through, glancing down to see yourself flutter and clench around his cock. “fuck, fuck ‘m gonna get close again.”

“wait,” a gruff voice murmurs and you glance up to see toji standing over you. he cups your chin, a thumb caressing your quivering bottom lip. “such a empty mouth. hm, open for me, pretty. think you could use some throat training too.”

as choso’s still plummeting his cock into your swollen cunt - stretching you out dexterously, you part your lips open.

by your surprise, toji’s lips meets yours and he pulls you into a deep kiss. it’s a bit of a rushing kiss, sloppy and strings of saliva tangling between each mouths. you moan, feeling the weight of your breasts bounce as you’re making haste on the other boxer’s lap. fuck, you were quite literally living the dream. you whimper, feeling his broad hands grab against your tits, using thumbs to push squeeze pressure against your perky nipples. he was always so handsy, allowing his hands to wander everywhere and yanking against the remaining pathetic pieces of fabric that covered your body.

you were still layered . . partially,

his rough scarred hands slide underneath your blouse as he’s continuing to make out with you, curling his parted tongue beside your own before it turns into obscene sucking. your own tongue occasionally scrapes against his scar that located directly near the right side of his mouth - it tickles a bit—however, you whimper once choso’s dick created its own little kisses against your g-spot.

abruptly, toji who was just claiming your mouth a few seconds ago pulls away from the continued kiss to grip underneath your chin again. “ah, say ah,” and he hums at your obedience, staring at your pretty pink tongue rolling out of your mouth flat. “good, ‘m gonna train this throat a little bit for ya, sweets. that alright?”

“o- okay,” and you’re briefly cut off once he springs out his cock again, thwacking his pink pearly tip against your tongue. he lets off a gruff satisfied grunt, feeling himself harden up once you flick your tongue against his slit. you’re slow, making sure to savor his taste. he watches, smacking his lips and his left brow curls.

toji bites his lip, his abs curlings as he watches you try to suck him of fully — he smacks his cock all against your face softly, watching your needy pout before humming. “such a needy cock hungry slut,” and a thumb swipes against your lip, preparing to insert his hardened shaft down your throat. “aw, you want more, do ya?”

you nod before moaning, feeling choso kiss down your neck, yearning for your attention.

“y- you’re doing so good,” choso whines against your ear, clinging onto your jerking body. “ngh, don’t listen to toji. he’s just mean.”

toji rolls his eyes. he’d reply with a sassy remark but he was still feeling the after effects of sensitivity. his muscles were all tense and spasming from you just bouncing on him just a few minutes ago. you’re just grinding onto choso, feeling your hips ridiculously buckle and snap before he smears his cockhead against your lips like it was lipstick. his plump tip goes against your wet lips, only for him to smack it against your clean pink tongue. “mmph.” you lashes flutter, ogling as he buries a few fingers into your scalp for a good grip. toji grunts, briefly tossing his head back in rapture. his scent grows stronger as he gradually starts to sink his way into your mouth.

“t- toji, ‘m gonna cum. i can’t last,” choso babbles, facial expressions scrunching up the more you quicken your tempo on his lap. toji glances at choso who’s melting right underneath you — he’s got you in a secure hold, but it’s lazy.

one of his arms sling around your torso, another holding onto your thigh. “fuck,” he sucks against your neck, feeling the stretch increase. your walls were his own worst enemy, preparing to milk him for all of his worth. everything felt hot, his throat felt dry and he’s starting to shake right underneath you. “gonna cum, gonna c- cum.”

“not yet, ‘cho,” he grunts, watching as you lean in, adjusting your throat to his heavy size. your tongue swirls around the peeling slit and he huffs, a single hand tightening its hold against the roots that stick onto your scalp. “mhm, look at me. don’t worry about him, he’s just a crybaby,” and you can hear choso let off a scoff from behind you. toji’s sensitive cock was still dribbling a bit with a concoction of your previous juices and he groans at the image of you lapping it right up. “c’mon, little deeper. i wanna feel that slutty roof.”

whilst you’re having your mouth and cunt filled entirely—choso’s whining pitches louder and louder. so loud that it reverbs all throughout the thin walls of the empty boxing arena. thankfully, there wasn’t anyone here and it was usually closed on saturdays. he didn’t like be edged, he hated it.

but it felt good,

so fucking good.

especially due to the fact that he was so close to you, hearing your sweet whimpers follow in sync with his.

your voice made his cock twitch and from the inside, you felt it all.

every frantic spasm - you felt it, not to mention the few lightning type veins that run down the upward curve of his cock, you felt that too.

you rocked against him until your knees were at its last. he’s still holding you up but even he was about to tap out. choso had stamina - but he was no match for his rival, toji.

with murky low eyes—toji’s staring dead at you, bobbling your head and merely shoving you down just a little deeper.

you get sloppy, a puddle of drool trickling down the corners of your chin and down the valley of your chest before his tip hits against the roof of your mouth again.

it’s a rough rude hit and his cock gives the very back of your throat its own few jabs. a combo if you will — yet it’s more raunchy instead of sportsmanlike.

“eyes on me baby. yeah, yeah,” toji turns your head a bit, locking onto your sweet gaze. “get it wet, clean it up for me. make me just as much of a mess as you, girl.”

his words were so low - an almost growl. you were too focused on toji that you concisely forgot about the other boxer that’s sat underneath you.

choso came and it was so sudden—he couldn’t hold it anymore.

his grip weakens and he slouched back against the ring, spurts of hot cum pouring into you deep. he’s trembling, feeling a wave crash down on him as he’s succumbing to his high. choso can’t help but try to mimic toji, swatting the palm of his hand softly against your ass. even his spanks were respectful.

the worn out boxer pants, letting off an adorable finish. his vocals were quite loud despite having a deep bellow. “baby oh, fuuuck,” he mewls out, dark brows coming together. choso was about to lose it even more at the feeling your swiveling hips throwing itself around in a circle just because. toji watches the entire thing, how you were teasing his partner whilst having your mouth all stuffed full. as he’s stood tall before you both, his abs clench and you get a face view of it all. perfectly incised along the edges, you saw a few marks and scars coat against his skin and it’s never been more attractive. choso on the other hand found his hands grabbing onto your tits, gently brushing a thumb against your sensitive nipples before nuzzling into your neck. he was definitely pussy drunk — you could hear it. “babyyy,” a soft voice whines pussy drunkly against the lobe of your ear, and you depart your lips away from toji’s cock. he groans, viewing you lie back before you start to twitch out a bit yourself.

not only was choso close but so were you. as your legs were all stuck up in the air in its ideal position, you dramatically gasp once you feel it.

there’s a tugging pile of pressure that presses down on your tummy. your jaw drops—dangles and everything as you’re being pushed further toward the edge. your arousal steadily builds up until it finally comes.

just seconds apart from choso, you pant - a brief pang of electric shock ascending down right through you. you were speechless for a moment.

there’s nothing but a white noise blaring through each of your ears. it feels like an unpredictable wave, a powerful wave that ripples right through your entire body. it took you a long time to realize you were finishing - not only finishing but you were squirting.

“ohmygodddd,” you whimper out, feeling your legs vigorously shake. you gush out right onto the mat. feeling yourself grow hot — you’re even hotter because of choso’s body underneath you.

effortlessly, bodies stick against each other, snuggling in filthy warmth. as you’re leisurely coming to a halting stop of your rhythmic hips, choso’s cock remained tuck inside of you and you catch your breath, head cutely flopping back against his bare chest.

“did . . did you just squirt on me?” choso whimpers, a tremor in his voice.

his voice, it grew a bit raspier. although, you could still hear the softness lingering underneath it.

toji leans in toward you both, spreading your legs open just a bit more - he strums a calloused thumb down your opening, peering as you’re still fluttering out of arousal and was still sopping wet all the way from your needy clit.

“she fuckin’ did,” he coos, and he leans down, getting right on his knees.

you watch with low hooded eyes, still feeling surges of nirvana and euphoria overtake your body. toji purrs in contentment, wide open palms slapping against the foamy ring mat before sticking out his lengthy rosy tongue. you’re catching irregular heavy breaths right along with choso, full lungs preparing to collapse and give out before you pulse.

the moment toji drags his long tongue over the dampened spot of where you just made a mess—you felt yourself throb yet again.

so nasty, he had no shame at all. choso watched too, and he felt the exact same way as you did.

“what a mess,” and with another throaty chuckle leaving his lips, he cleans the mat off entirely before going between your legs. you moan, his palm gifting your cunt with a single abrupt spank. you’re so drenched that a few spurts of your slick coat onto his hand. toji stares at it, scoffing. “pussy tryin’ to talk back i see,” and he rubs his hand in a circular rotation against your cunt, maneuvering all kinds of shapes with his palm. you whimper, grabbing onto choso’s wrist. in awe, toji watches as dumps of cum ooze out of your opening and he even licks that up too, sticky black hair all unkempt and gluing against his forehead. the thin black bangs that run down his brows gives him a more alluring look and he hums, darkened eyes meeting his partner’s. “choso. don’t be a zombie. c’meree.”

you were definitely fucked—

being laid out, defeated and just stupidly stupid.

your legs sprawl outward as they’re both right between them. taking turns, flicking tongues of each against your swollen cunt. they took fighting over you to an entire new level. as they were drinking you dry — you couldn’t help but imagine the lewd thought of taking them both at the same time. you’d probably get crushed, you could barely even handle one as is, but two? that’d be an actual knockout for real.

as you’re still in a trancing daze, you watch both of the boxers with wide rounded eyes, grabbing both of them by the hair. there’s choso who’s really sweet and gentle, giving your pussy soft kitten kisses, softly brushing a thumb down your slit.

and then there’s toji . .

the clit biter - opposite of choso being the clit kisser, he doesn’t care.

with ravened brows furrowing up, he’s so rude to your pussy. every few seconds, he’d tenderly nibble against your pulsating nub, knowing that you’re sensitive there. with a smug grin, he shifts his eyes at you to stare at you dead in the face whilst he’s right between your legs. he’s messy too, moving his head from side to side, his scar swipes against your cunt every now and then.

not only was he messy but he was a hogger. he slurps you clean, luxuriating the tasteless flavor on his tongue before he hears choso cutely huff out in frustration.

“toji, you’re hogging her. ‘s no fair,” he grunts, dark eyes catching a glimpse at him from his hazy peripherals.

“cry ‘bout it,” and he spits on your cunt, hooked bump of his nose rubbing all against your slit.

already - toji’s chin was drenched, and so was choso’s. they both match with a slick of your sheeny arousal dripping down their perfectly chiseled chins. about a good hour had probably passed — then again, you were too dumb to acknowledge the time. all you knew was that you were soaked. you whimper, being nothing but a stiff shivering mess as they devoured you whole.

the numbness in your legs had your back rising up in ecstasy. you wanted more. sloshing slick tongues thrash and glissade against each other before they eventually . . tangle.

toji groans, accidentally meeting with choso’s lips and its brief. his eyelashes open and he has a sly smile at his rival. you watch the entire thing, the timid boxer versus the smug one. toji’s hand still remains on your folds and he’s multitasking, seductively licking choso’s bottom lip - still locking his gaze on him. he’s starting to taking his attention off of you. “hm, don’t tell me you wanted attention from me ‘n not her this entire time, ‘cho.”

a lump gets caught in his throat. choso grows flustered, hearing his own pulse shoot out through his ears as his lips made contact against his rival. “i—”

he’s hard, flaccid still, but definitely hard. there was a loud silence once a smack noise leaves there lips the second they each depart. choso’s got a pout, a longing pout before he tries to act tough.

“shut up, toji.” he grouses, trying to hide his embarrassment.

“how ‘bout ya make me,” and you’re just sat there dumbfounded with your legs still sprawled as if you weren’t just being fought over - invisible questions marks pop up everywhere over your head. what about you? what about you. with quick reflexes, he pins choso flat down on his back before snickering, having the most lewd back arch imaginable.

“our re-match is tonight after all, pretty boy.”

[nereidprinc3ss]

be my angel

in which BAU fem!reader was injured on the job, but is refusing painkillers at the hospital. spencer thinks he knows why.

fluff (+a little angst) warnings/tags: established relationship, hospital stuff, reader got beat up by an unsub, discussions of spencer's past addiction, mentions of period cramps, reader ends up being administered some sort of painkiller a/n: another draft i found in my literal hundreds of pages of abandoned wips and fixed up cause it's cute, I hope you like!!!

Spencer is tearing through the hospital. They all keep saying you’re going to be okay, but what does that even mean? Why is nobody telling him anything? He’s not even sure he heard what the orderly at the front desk said, but his feet are carrying him with a strident purpose through the winding white halls, so he has to assume he at least subconsciously knows where he’s going. 

Finally he spots Penelope, a beacon in her candy-colored clothing, speaking to a doctor in hushed tones. Penelope sees him approaching and turns away from the doctor, looking harried and exhausted. 

“Is she okay? What happened?” Spencer demands, before either of the others can say a word. 

“She’s okay,” the doctor assures. “She was beat up pretty bad—concussion, broken ribs, some bruising that looks worse than it is. There was a clean shot through her arm, but—” 

His blood runs cold. Nobody told him you were shot. Why had nobody told him you were shot? 

“I need to see her.” 

The doctor frowns, glancing between the two agents. 

“I’m sorry, are you her spouse?” 

“Yes. No, not yet, I just—I need to see her, please. Now.” 

“Sir, unless she—” 

“Just let him see her!” Penelope practically yells. “She wants him here, believe me.”  

The doctor clenches her jaw and scribbles something on her clipboard. 

“Okay. Maybe you can try to convince her to accept some painkillers.” 

Spencer’s frown deepens. 

“She’s refusing pain management?” 

“We gave her as much ibuprofen as we could, but she refused anything stronger than that. She has to be in a lot of pain right now, and there’s no background of addiction.” 

“I’ll talk to her,” Spencer says, already twisting the silver door handle. He has a sneaking suspicion as to why you denied pain treatment, and it makes him feel incredibly guilty. More than he already did, after this entire debacle. 

The sight of you, bloodied and bruised and obviously suffering has his heart splintering right down the middle. Whatever meager semblance of a smile he can scrounge up and offer is reflected back to him on you—which only makes him feel worse. As always, you’re putting on a brave face. 

“Hey,” Spencer says quietly as he closes the door behind him. 

“Hi,” you croak. “How do I look?” 

He approaches, sitting on the edge of the bed and pushing your hair away from your face. 

“How do you feel? The doctor told me you wouldn’t accept pain medication,” he murmurs. 

You sniff. 

“I feel okay. Did she tell you it’s not as bad as it looks?” 

But your voice is so small, so wavery and weak, that he knows you’re lying. 

“Sweetheart...” 

You’ve been holding it together since the unsub beat you nearly unconscious. You held it together as he ran away, even got a couple shots in before he turned around and returned fire. You held it together while you sat against the dirty truck, bleeding out, not sure if your team was coming, and you held it together in the ambulance, and for the past thirty minutes in this hospital bed. But all it takes is one gentle word from Spencer, with that concerned, solicitous look in his eye, and the floodgates are opening. Tears spring up in your eyes and begin silently falling down your dirtied cheeks. 

“It’s okay!” you attempt to reassure him, affecting cheeriness even through the tears. “It doesn’t hurt. I’m fine!” 

He says your name soft and low and he tries his best to keep his tone even though he is liable to burst into tears or start yelling at someone (not you) at any minute.  

“I know that’s not true. You have broken ribs and a gunshot wound. I know how badly it hurts to breathe and how it feels every time you move your arm. That is too much damage for over-the-counter anti-inflammatories. You need real analgesics.” 

“I don’t,” you whisper. Your teary eyes make his whole body ache. He squeezes your hand—the one that’s not connected to the wounded arm. 

“Because of me?” You stare at him blankly, as if you’re shocked he was able to put two and two together. “I promise you don’t need to worry about that.” 

You sniffle. 

“But what if—what if they give me the drugs and I get all weird and it’s, it’s like... triggering for you, or something?” 

“It’s been a really long time since I’ve worried about that. I’d rather see you a little tired and out of it than in extreme pain and trying to pretend you’re not. You getting the pain relief you need in a medical emergency is not going to make me relapse.” 

“But I really think I could go without,” you begin, voice already tightening around a cry. “I’ve—I’ve had period cramps that were worse than this.” 

Despite himself, he chuckles. Goes back to stroking your hair. 

The laughter fades quickly. All the pain you’re in is so evident in your eyes. The dissociative glassiness, the tension around them, the bloodshot quality—he's seen it many times before, and he hates it on you. 

“Will you please tell them you’re ready to take something? They won’t give you Dilaudid. It’s too strong. They’ll give you something that I’d have no interest in anyway.” 

“Not funny,” you whisper. 

He ignores this. 

“Will you let me call the doctor back in?” 

You take a deep, shuddering breath—or at least, you try to, before you’re loosing a sharp squeak that deteriorates into a little sob. The ribs. 

Spencer doesn’t bother asking again, just gets up and begins to walk away as efficiently as his legs will carry him. You need painkillers and he thinks it might be fastest to just fetch the doctor or a nurse from the hallway. 

“Wait,” you plead.  

He stops. Reminds himself that you need him right now—not his medical opinions. Spencer turns back around and approaches again, crouching by your bedside this time. 

“What, honey?” 

“I don’t...” 

You trail off, overcome by something like fear in the width and shine and nervous dart of your eyes. Spencer knows, everybody at the BAU knows, that showing fear to a serial killer will get you killed that much quicker. During your time alone with the unsub, which is a can of worms Spencer literally cannot psychologically open right now, you had to put on your bravest face. Even while you were being beaten within an inch of your life. Even when you thought you were going to die, alone, and that your team—that Spencer—wasn't coming back for you. Because that’s the kind of thing you have to do to cope when you’re at rock bottom. But you were terrified. Petrified. That doesn’t just go away—and Spencer knows it’ll be bumping against the surface until it finds a way out.  

He has to remember that just because you look unafraid and you act unafraid doesn’t mean you aren’t. 

“You were so brave,” he manages after he’s sure he can say it without incident, swiping moisture from your cheek. “You did everything exactly right.” 

“I know,” you whisper, chin trembling. Spencer knows you, and he knows this kind of trauma well enough to know that you’re thinking, I did everything exactly right, and it wasn’t enough. I did everything exactly right and this is what I have to show for it. 

“But nobody needs you to act like it wasn’t hard, okay? You don’t need to pretend like it doesn’t hurt. You were so, so brave, angel. You don’t have to be brave anymore.” 

Your eyes squeeze shut, sending a new wash of tears over your tacky cheeks. A few moments pass. You say nothing. He hopes you’re not going to hide away inside yourself like he did. 

“Will you please, please, let me get the doctor?” 

At least this time you don’t immediately say no. 

“Will you come right back?” 

“Of course.” 

Finally, you nod your hesitant assent, and Spencer presses a careful kiss to your forehead. 

A few minutes later, the doctor—who was shocked that Spencer was able to so quickly change your very made-up mind—is back, and so is Spencer. It only takes a moment for them to determine the best course of action for you and soon the fist around his heart is loosening its grip as he watches some of the agony melting from your eyes. 

“Better?” he murmurs as the nurse who’d administered the drugs leaves, fanning his thumb over the underside of your wrist. You nod, already appearing sleepy. 

“Can you lie down with me?” 

He smiles at the way your words slip against each other, simply relieved that you’re able to relax and no longer in extreme pain. 

“Hospital beds aren’t rated for two people.” 

“Spencer.” 

It’s enough for him to climb onto the bed—not that he was ever going to deny you what you wanted to begin with. The fit isn’t exactly perfect—he's a bit too long and combined the two of you are just slightly too wide—but with some finagling it’s comfortable enough. Spencer has slipped his arm underneath you and your head is on his shoulder and he’s so glad to have you in his arms and so grateful that you’re okay he does something almost like praying in his head as he kisses your hair. 

“Hey. Ask me about my bruises.” 

“Why? Do they still hurt?” 

“You should see the other guy.” 

It’s dumb and it doesn’t make sense because you didn’t bother waiting for him to actually set the joke up—but he smiles dryly nonetheless. 

“Can you please give me... I don’t know, 36 hours before you start making jokes about almost dying?” 

“Clock starts now.” 

“Thank you.” He feels your lips curve into a half-conscious smile against his neck. It’s a wonderful feeling. “How are your ribs? Breathing feels okay?” 

“Mhm. Love breathing.” 

“Mhm. And your arm?” 

“Like I got shot.” 

“Well, that’s pretty much unavoidable. But not as bad as before, right?” 

“Right. Spencer?” 

“What, my love?” 

A little pleased puff of air warms his shoulder. He carefully rubs your hip. 

“Will you tell me how brave I was again?” 

He takes a silent, very deep breath.  

“You were incredibly brave. And smart, too. I’m really proud of you for how you handled that situation. I’m so sorry you had to go through that, but I don’t think anyone could have handled it better. Especially when you chose to stay put by the truck, instead of chase him. I know that wasn’t what you wanted to do, but it was the right choice.” 

“I thought you guys maybe weren’t coming,” you murmur, no hint of sadness in your smushed, flat voice—like you’re barely awake. “I waited half an hour and I thought you weren’t gonna find me.” 

“Angel, I will always find you. We didn’t stop looking even once, as soon as we noticed you were gone. I’m just sorry I wasn’t with Emily and Rossi when they got to you.” 

“’Nelope told me... she told me you got really angry and scary.” 

He stares at the ceiling and considers this. 

“I could see... how what I was feeling would be interpreted that way. I was pretty angry. But not at Penelope or any of them. I was mostly just scared.” 

“I’m sorry I scared you,” you whisper. “And I’m sorry if I made you mad.” 

“You did not. I wasn’t mad at you. And it’s not your fault that I got scared. You were just trying to do your job. None of this is your fault.” 

“She also said that you said fuck like... three times.” 

“Mm... doesn’t sound like me,” he evades. You giggle, and the sound is more a relief than any drug he could take.

“No, seriously, I’m so mad I missed it. I love hearing you swear. Tell me what you said—and you have to cause I’m all messed up so I get whatever I want.” 

He sighs in mock annoyance. 

“Well, she’s wrong. I only said fuck once. I used fucking as an intensifier twice.” 

You hum. 

“Sexy.” 

“Alright,” Spencer laughs, flushing as he moves his hand to your shoulder. “Go to sleep before I tell them to up your dosage, weirdo.” 

[sunniques]

— 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐥

➺ PAIRING: kim mingyu x female reader

➺ GENRE: stepbrother au, smut

➺ SUMMARY: mingyu will do anything to make sure no man takes his place in his stepsister’s life.

➺ CW/TW: stepcest, yandere themes, stalking, violence, blood, manipulation, mentions of blackmail, jealousy, possessiveness, mingyu can lift reader, slight size kink, oral sex (f & m), 69, unprotected sex, riding, creampies, cockwarming

➺ WC: 7.7k

NOTE: don’t like don’t read. as always, thank you to my oomf @wonustars for beta reading <3

If anyone were to ask you about Kim Mingyu, you’d have nothing but nice things to say.

The large, puppy-like man is the epitome of kindness and happiness. Despite his tall stature and modelesque looks, he’s pure-hearted and a little naive. It’s why you’re so endeared with him. No one in this world is more lovable than your foolishly kind stepbrother.

“Are you gonna need a ride today?”

You look up to see Mingyu leaning against the doorframe, watching you with a small smile on his face. Your heart jumps, still not fully used to how handsome he is. The loud thrum of your heart is easily ignored when you remind yourself that you can’t do anything except acknowledge your stepbrother’s good looks. In another world, you’d definitely allow yourself to have a crush on him, maybe even flirt with him a little.

“No,” you say as you unplug your phone from the charger. “Minghao is picking me up.”

Because you’re busy making sure you have all your things, you miss the look that crosses Mingyu’s face.

“Oh. I didn’t know you guys were talking again.”

Part of you feels a little embarrassed. Mingyu is very much aware of how things ended between you and Minghao. After all, it’s his broad shoulder you cried on after everything was said and done.

“It’s not like that,” you insist, feeling your face get hot from how intense his stare is. “We’re just friends now.”

Mingyu frowns but doesn’t say anything. It’s times like these you’re grateful that he’s such a nice guy. Anyone else would’ve pointed out that you and Minghao were never actually friends. You two just fucked around until he got sick of you. It was devastating for you in the worst way, but since he reached out to you under the pretense of wanting to be friends, you couldn’t say no. The last thing you want is to let him know how much he hurt you.

“Okay. Well if you need a ride later just text me.”

You’re grateful that Mingyu isn’t judgmental like you know the rest of your friends are going to be when they inevitably find out.

When you’re done with your last class of the day, you text Minghao to let him know you’re ready for him to come get you. A sickening feeling coils in the pit of your stomach when ten minutes go by without a response from him. You bite your lip as you contemplate sending him another text. Double texting wouldn’t be a problem if it wasn’t Minghao. Given the way you two left things, you don’t want to seem desperate. (Although you’re pretty sure it’s a little late for that.)

When another five minutes go by, you’re sure you’ve been stood up. You’re so angry that you feel like crying. The entire situation is so humiliating. To think that you thought giving him a second chance was a good idea. You feel so stupid, and you know that there’s no way you can ever tell anyone about what happened.

Well, there is one person. 

As soon as you call your stepbrother, he drops everything he’s doing to come get you. Because it’s Mingyu, you don’t feel as stupid and embarrassed when you get into his car. Not even when you start to ramble on about what an asshole Minghao is. Mingyu listens attentively, offering supportive comments here and there. There’s no judgment or pity when he talks, either. Just empathy that gives you enough comfort to make you feel like you’ve finally made it back to your safe place.

“Don’t even think about him,” Mingyu says as he grabs your hand. He brings it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to the back of it before letting go. “He doesn’t deserve you or your anger.”

His words make you smile and feel warm inside. Aside from feeling a little embarrassed, you’re okay. Especially because your stepbrother makes it his mission to make sure you feel better.

You spend the rest of the day with Mingyu, and it’s not long before you completely forget about Minghao.

“I used to like you, you know.”

You choke on your drink, eyes going wide as you splutter embarrassingly. “What? Seokmin—!”

“I don’t any more!” He reassures you, looking around with slight panic. “And keep your voice down! I don’t need your guard dog acting up if any rumors start.”

You’re still too shocked by his confession to question who he’s talking about. You messily wipe your mouth and focus on getting Seokmin to explain because what he said doesn’t make any sense. Especially because of how things went down after you drunkenly admitted to liking him back freshman year.

“When was this?”

Seokmin looks ashamed. “A little after we met.”

There’s no way.

“You’re fucking sick. When I confessed to you that year, you friendzoned me.”

Seokmin has the decency to look sheepish and guilty. “It was a dick move, I admit it. But it’s not my fault!”

You raise a disbelieving eyebrow at him.

“Your stepbrother had made it clear that you were off limits, okay? I wasn’t about to cross him.”

You stare at him, dumbfounded. “Literally, what are you talking about?”

Seokmin blushes and looks around again. You’d laugh if his behavior wasn’t so odd. You’re not sure why he’s acting like he’s scared of something or someone, but you can’t focus on that too much. His bizarre story is throwing you off.

“Mingyu has always been very protective of you, and he’s actually really fucking scary when he wants to be.”

Silence. 

You two stare at each other until you burst out laughing. That’s all you can do because there’s no way your friend is being serious.

“Hey!” Seokmin slaps your arm to calm you down. “I’m being serious!”

“Mingyu? Kim Mingyu?” You say between breaths. “Your best friend—my stepbrother?”

“Yes, lovely Kim Mingyu who wouldn’t hurt a fly!” Seokmin scowls as you keep laughing.

Of all the reasons Seokmin could come up with for rejecting you while allegedly having feelings for you, you didn’t think he’d use your stepbrother. It was such a cheap cop-out. Mingyu has never cared about your unexciting love life. He’s always encouraged you to have fun and find a guy who deserves you. 

There’s no way what Seokmin’s implying is true. Even if it was, you’re sure he’s exaggerating. Your goofy stepbrother doesn’t have one mean, intimidating bone in his body. 

“Okay,” you wheeze. “Let’s say I believe you, which I don’t. What exactly did Mingyu say for you to reject me?”

Seokmin blinks and hesitates. Maybe it’s better if you don’t know all the details. “He just… advised me to not play with your feelings if I wasn’t ready for a relationship.”

You roll your eyes. Instead of bringing up the fact that he freely dated around after turning down your confession, you choose to steer the conversation in a different direction. There’s no need to keep rubbing salt in an old wound, anyway.

“Whatever. You’re still sick,” you say. “Anyway, are you still going to Chan’s on Friday?”

“Are you?” Seokmin counters. “Minghao will be there.”

Your lip curls up in disgust. “Like I’m going to let that asshole stop me from having fun.”

“True. And actually, he might not even go. I think he’s still recovering.”

“Recovering? What do you mean?”

“You don’t know? Minghao got into a fight last week! He won’t say with who, but he got fucking wrecked.”

You’re shocked into silence. A fight? It’s pretty hard to believe since Minghao is a pretty passive guy. He rarely gets angry or upset. 

So many things are going through your mind at once that you can’t get any of your thoughts straight. Had it happened the day he stood you up? If it did, why didn’t he say anything?

“Poor guy looks like shit. I doubt he’ll be going anywhere for a while.”

You frown. Sure, Minghao isn’t your favorite person in the world, but that doesn’t mean you would wish something like that on him. You know you shouldn’t be worried about him, but part of you still is. 

“Oh my god,” you mumble with a frown, not really knowing what to say. “Poor him.”

“Poor who?”

Your head snaps up at the sound of a familiar voice. A smile lights up your face when you see your stepbrother approaching the table. 

“Minghao,” Seokmin says as his best friend sits beside you. “Remember I told you someone beat his ass?”

“Oh, yeah,” Mingyu says with a frown as he slings his beefy arm over your shoulders. “Poor guy. I hope he gets better soon.”

You lean into your stepbrother, chest warming at the worried frown on Mingyu’s face. His kind heart is so admirable. Despite Minghao being a certified piece of shit, he still has the empathy to feel bad for the guy. It reminds you of how Mingyu is someone who’s a way better person than you, and you can’t resent him for it.

“Don’t worry, love. Minghao will be okay.” Mingyu says as he squeezes you into his side.

Like always, your stepbrother knows what you’re feeling without you telling him. It’s hard to stop the affection you feel from deepening when he always makes sure to comfort you first. His thumb gently caresses your shoulder absentmindedly as he and Seokmin start to talk about their statistics class. Just knowing your stepbrother is so understanding of your complicated feelings makes you feel so much better, and it’s not long before the topic of what happened to Minghao is long forgotten.

Mingyu will never forget the first time he saw you.

It was at one of Seungcheol’s notorious frat parties. Back then, he hadn’t been too into the party scene. Honestly, he’d gone out of pressure and boredom more than anything. One day he’ll have to thank his older friend for being the reason he saw you.

Unlike Mingyu, you were letting loose and having fun. He can’t forget how beautiful you looked while taking shots and laughing without a care in the world. Something inside him switched that night, and instead of being scared of the unfamiliar feeling, Mingyu quickly embraced it.

The feeling pushed him into watching you all night. To this day, Seungcheol thinks his friend had as much fun as everyone else. Which he had, just a different kind of fun.

At the end of the night, Mingyu secretly followed you as you stumbled your way back to your dorm. It’s not like you went home alone, but he had to make sure you were safe. (He also was curious to know if you lived on or off campus.)

Finding out your schedule wasn’t hard. As an attractive man, it’s always been easy for Mingyu to get what he wants. One charming smile and a little harmless flirting had him securing a paper with all your classes on it within minutes. Everything was too easy after that, and Mingyu couldn’t feel anything like guilt or shame as he went to go find you.

For weeks, he watched you from afar. Despite knowing he was most people’s type, Mingyu was still nervous about talking to you. He wanted everything to be perfect. Setting up a meet-cute was hard work, which meant calculating the time and place took a tremendous amount of effort. Honestly, he did start to get a little impatient when watching you no longer felt like enough for him. Mingyu was itching to know you and everything about you. To have you all for himself.

Luckily for him, swooping in when you almost got hit by a football was the perfect opportunity to worm his way into your life. Mingyu played the perfect part of a knight in shining armor, one that was undeniably kind and empathetic. Exactly what you wanted.

Mingyu still fantasizes about the way you looked at him that day. The lidded gaze you directed at him and the way you bit your lip was tantalizing in the sweetest way. It was easy for you to become friends after that.

There was an unexpected roadblock a month later when his mom told him she was marrying the man of her dreams. It’s both devastating and thrilling for him to find out that man is your father. You’ll be closer to him than ever, but now there’s this forbidden aspect that wedges itself between the attraction between you two.

Despite this, you two grow closer. All of your interests and hobbies line up almost perfectly, and the fixation Mingyu has on you steadily grows, slowly morphing into an undeniable obsession. Luckily for him, the new role he has in your life allows him to ward off any vultures that are lurking around you.

The loser in your calculus class was the easiest to get rid of. Once Mingyu caught him staring at you at a party, approaching him and telling him to stop staring at you like a fucking creep was enough for the guy to never look at you again. Then, there was your scummy coworker. Mingyu had to politely remind him that it wouldn’t be a good idea to keep bothering you unless he wanted his parents to find out he had dropped out of college and spent all of his financial aid partying.

Then there was his dear friend, Lee Seokmin.

“Y/N is single right?”

Mingyu looks up from his phone, jaw tightening as he fixes his dark stare on Seokmin. His friend is oblivious to the dangerous territory he’s venturing into, and there’s a moment where Mingyu contemplates whether or not to disregard the many years of friendship they have to impulsively act on his dark thoughts.

“Yeah,” Mingyu’s tone is clipped.

Seokmin hums thoughtfully. “Do you think she’d say yes if I asked her out?”

“I don’t think so,” Mingyu says through gritted teeth, still trying to be somewhat nice. “You’re not good at commitment, and that’s what she’s looking for.”

His best friend doesn’t seem to care for the advice he’s getting. “I can do whatever for someone I actually like.”

“You really like her?”

Either Seokmin doesn’t hear the venom in his friend’s voice, or he doesn’t care. Mingyu’s not sure which pisses him off more.

“Yeah,” Seokmin replies. “She’s smart and pretty. Exactly my type.”

Seokmin flinches when Mingyu slams his fist on the table. A dark look he never thought his friend was even capable of making is being directed at him, and he suddenly feels like he’s unknowingly walked into the lion’s den.

“Don’t you even think about going near her.” Mingyu spits, not caring that he sounds like an asshole. “I’ll cut your dick off if I find out you even hint at wanting anything more than a friendship with her.”

Seokmin laughs weakly. “You’re not serious—”

“Test me and find out.”

Mingyu smiles, but it’s a chilling smile. One that has Seokmin spluttering out an agreement before he realizes it.

After that, Mingyu knew he had to make sure everyone knew you were off limits.

The only dumbass that didn’t take Mingyu’s warnings seriously was Xu Minghao. The idiot had the audacity to laugh in his face when Mingyu suggested he find someone else to fuck around with. Unfortunately, Minghao didn’t have any dirt on him—not any that was serious enough for Mingyu to use as blackmail, anyway.

And so, Mingyu was forced to back off—for the time being.

His promiscuous ex had always been so eager to please that she didn’t hesitate to give in to Mingyu’s request to seduce and ensnare Minghao. It left you heartbroken and ready to receive your stepbrother’s comfort. Everything slowly went back to the way it was supposed to be. You were more dependent on Mingyu than ever, which made it easy for him to slowly erase that asshole from your life.

Until he finds out that scumbag was worming his way back into your life. 

Instead of attending his first class, Mingyu has his ex lure Minghao to her apartment building where he puts an end to that idiot once and for all.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Minghao groans and he coughs up a bit of blood.

Mingyu slams him into the wall, wounded hands moving to squeeze his throat and cut his words. “I warned you a long time ago to stay away from Y/N. This is the last time I’m going to tell you.”

When he does let go of Minghao, the idiot stops Mingyu from walking away. Even through large intakes of breath and spluttered coughs, he manages to piss Mingyu off some more. “You think Y/N will forgive you when she finds out what you did to me?”

Mingyu spins on his heels before landing a hard punch on Minghao’s nose. The loud crack echoes in the air, and it sounds almost dull compared to the yell that idiot lets out. Blood pours from his nose immediately, and it slips through the cracks of his fingers as he holds it in pain.

“You think she’ll believe you over me?” Mingyu’s laugh is dark and cruel. “Y/N knows I would never hurt anyone. Not even a piece of shit like you.”

Minghao’s heart rate spikes when he sees the way Mingyu smiles at him. A chill goes down his spine when he realizes just how depraved the man in front of him is. So for once, he does the smart thing and decides to cut off all contact with you. It pains him to stand you up and ghost you, but no pussy is worth this. Not even yours.

Mingyu sees you before you see him. You’re sitting at one of the many tables in the refectory, but you aren’t alone. Some guy is talking to you, grinning from ear to ear like some disgusting creep. Immediately, he recognizes the starry-eyed look in his gaze. A lot of guys get that same look when they see you. Even if you don’t notice it, Mingyu always does.

“Hey, man.” The stranger has the fucking audacity to smile at Mingyu as he sits across from you.

As much as Mingyu would like to tell the creep to fuck off, he can’t. Not while you’re around, at least. “Hey.”

“I’ll see you in class,” the guy says with an unattractive smile as he slowly stands. 

Mingyu feels like throwing up when you actually smile back.

“Bye.” You wave with a cute laugh.

The guy finally leaves, and it takes everything in Mingyu to behave normally. Dark thoughts loom in his head, ones that involve taking care of that idiot like he did to your ex situationship. He forces his depraved thoughts to the back of his mind to focus his attention on you.

“Who was that?” He wonders casually like he’s not losing his mind.

“That’s Josh. He’s in my communications class.” You say indifferently.

“Did he ask you out?” Mingyu wonders, trying to make the lilt in his voice sound teasing. And like the very thought isn’t killing him inside.

“Yeah,” you say. “He wants to hang out after my last class.”

Mingyu’s stomach turns. He smiles at you, so pained that you’re being so casual about some loser hitting on you. Especially in front of him. He’ll have to find out more about that asshole later and figure out exactly how he’s going to get rid of him, but right now there’s a more pressing matter.

“And?”

You give him a funny look. “And I told him no. We’re hanging out tonight, remember?”

“Oh, yeah.”

It’s a relief, and Mingyu hopes it doesn’t show on his face.

An unsavory feeling settles in Mingyu’s chest after that day. You slowly start to mention Josh more and more without knowing how insane it makes your stepbrother feel. It’s all so maddening because this Josh character is actually close to being a perfect guy. He’s been in a few relationships that have all ended up on good terms, and he doesn’t have any questionable behaviors. Mingyu almost considers fabricating something so he can get the loser away from you.

It’s not until a random Friday night that Mingyu decides he’s finally had enough. You were supposed to have been home hours ago, and you’re barely getting here. Accompanied by dumbass Josh, no less. He almost feels like throwing up as he watches you from the security camera. Mingyu clenches his jaw as anger seeps into his bones and clouds his mind.

Something inside him snaps, and he decides right then and there that you can’t keep doing this to him, and he can’t keep torturing himself like he has been.

“I had fun with you,” Joshua says sweetly.

Mingyu almost smashes his phone when you give him a hug and respond in a dulcet tone. “Me too.”

When he sees you waving at Josh with both of your hands in the cute way you always do, he’s quick to lock his phone and go downstairs to intercept you. 

It’s quiet when you enter the house. You didn’t see your stepmom’s car or your dad’s in the driveway so you know they aren’t home. Since it’s so quiet, you wonder if Mingyu is asleep or something.

“Where have you been?”

You jump with a quiet yelp, not expecting your stepbrother to be waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs. There’s a look in his eyes that you’ve never seen before, and he almost looks threatening.

“Um,” you stutter, not sure what to make of the shift in his demeanor. “I was with—”

“With who?”

Dark eyes examine your face, demanding answers. Mingyu stalks toward you until he has you pressed against the front door. His large hands cage you against it as he leans close to your face.

“Tell me. I want to know why you’re so late when you promised me you’d be home sooner.”

You stare at him with wide eyes. “What? Gyu—”

“Let me guess,” he hums, sounding completely depraved. “You were with Josh.”

You swallow nervously, wondering why he sounds jealous. The thought sends a jolt of thrill down your spine. “Yeah. He just wanted—”

“Wanted what?” Mingyu’s glaring eyes get more intense. “To fuck you?”

You’re completely floored. That was the last thing you expected your sweet stepbrother to say, and for some reason it makes you feel dizzy in a thrilling way. You lick your lips, feeling your skin get hot as anxiousness mixes in with arousal. It’s been too long since you had sex, which is why you started to get wet from Mingyu’s uncharacteristic behavior. 

“N-No.” You say somewhat firmly. “We’re just friends.”

“Then why was he touching you?” He growls as one of the hands braced on the door moves to your neck.

Your cunt throbs at the action, and you feel like your mind is swimming from the sudden turn of events.

“It was a quick hug,” you say as he lightly squeezes your throat. “Something between friends.”

Mingyu raises an eyebrow, seemingly unbelieving of your words. More slick pools in your panties as the dark gaze stays locked in your face. You try not to make squeezing your thighs together obvious, but you haven’t felt so turned on in a long time.

“You’re sure?” Mingyu’s voice sounds entirely different as he squeezes your neck again.

“Yes,” you easily say. Deciding to act on instinct, you slowly smooth your hands over his chest and look at him through your eyelashes. “Promise, Gyu-Gyu.”

As always, he’s putty in your hands as soon as he hears that cute little nickname you gave him. Mingyu lets out a shaky breath as you go to cup his face. His eyes fall shut, and he lets himself lean on you and sandwich you between his body against the door. Your thumbs gently, caress his cheeks as you work to placate him. He loves every second of it, and just being pressed up against you has his cock twitching in his pants.

Fuck it.

Mingyu opens his eyes, pupils blown wide. “I’ll let it go this time, baby girl, but I better not catch him or any other guy touching what’s mine.”

He sounds completely insane and feral, but that only makes you want him more. It’s almost like you’re in a trace as you lock your arms around his neck to bring him closer to you. The heat in his eyes makes you feel like a goddess, and you wonder if it’s always been there.

“Say it,” Mingyu demands as his hands trail down your body to squeeze your ass. “Tell me you won’t let any asshole touch you ever again.”

You whine in your throat. “I won’t let anyone else touch me. I promise.”

Mingyu grins, little fangs poking out like the cat who ate the canary. “Good girl.”

With that, he easily lifts you and locks your legs around his hips. For a moment, his pretty eyes search yours as if he’s trying to search for any sign of hesitation. He seems satisfied with what he sees, and in the next second his lips catch yours in a wet, heated kiss.

You mewl into his mouth as you grind down on his very large bulge. It all feels so good, and you groan when Mingyu eases his tongue into your mouth. There’s a desperation behind his movements that make you more horny than you already are.

Everything else happens in a blur, and before you realize it, you end up sprawled out on Mingyu’s bed. He handles you with care, but there’s also a roughness to his movements. It makes you gush because that’s exactly what you like.

“Naughty baby. Gonna have to teach you a lesson.”

There’s that switch again, and it makes you squirm. You squish your thighs together, both anticipating and dreading what’s in store for you. Mingyu seems like a feral animal, one that’s close to acting on primal instincts only. The thought excites you.

“Why?” You pout, wondering how you can get him to just fuck you. “I’ve been a good girl.”

You’re such a little minx, and Mingyu has to turn away so you don’t see the fond smile that forms on his face. As usual, you’re too cute for your own good. It’s always so disarming, but all Mingyu has to do is remember what led to this for him to get himself back on track.

“Don’t be a brat,” he warns as he takes his shirt off.

Mingyu’s cock twitches when your pout accentuates. You still nod obediently, though. He kicks off his pants until he’s left in only his underwear. The way you hungrily eye his body (especially his large bulge) makes him feel like he’s in the clouds. All his plotting and waiting was really worth it.

“Show me your panties.”

You whimper quietly, not believing how filthy your stepbrother is. It makes you that much more eager to give him what he wants.

Slowly, you discard your jeans and spread your legs to show Mingyu how wet you are. His eyes are dark dark dark when he sees the material is almost see-through.

“Fuck,” he moans as he palms his throbbing cock. “Take them off.”

The fabric slips down your legs and dangles from your fingertips in the next second. Mingyu snatches them from your hands and presses the soiled fabric to his nose. His eyes stay on your pretty pussy as he carefully places your panties on his nightstand

“For later,” he clarifies with a filthy smirk.

You curse under your breath as more arousal drips out of you.

“You like that, baby girl?” Mingyu coos as his eyes stay on your dripping pussy. “Like that your stepbrother is going to use your cute little panties to jerk off?”

“Yes,” you admit through a whine. “Fuck, Gyu. I’m so wet right now.”

“I know,” his eyes flicker up to your face for a second. “But I still have to teach you a lesson.”

You pout at him again. “Even though I promised you already?”

His laugh is dark. “Have to make sure you keep it.”

“I’ll be good, I swear. Please, Gyu-Gyu?” You bat your eyelashes at him, and any resolve he has just breaks.

Mingyu slips out of his underwear, and he smirks when you gasp at the sight of his hard cock slapping against his abdomen. It’s so hard and leaking with so much precum. You’re eying it so hungrily that he decides to get the upper hand once again.

“I’ll give you what you want, baby. Just play with my cock first.”

“Really?” You ask eagerly, as Mingyu starts to stroke his huge cock.

“Yeah. Use that pretty little mouth on me, and I’ll give you anything you want.”

You jump to your knees in excitement. “Okay!”

“You want to gag on your stepbrother’s cock that bad?” Mingyu laughs as you eagerly nod and crawl toward him. “What a slut.”

“Can’t help it,” you say as you push on his shoulder to get him to lay back. “Want your pretty cock in my mouth.”

“Fuck,” Mingyu hisses as he leans against his pillows. His cock throbs at the fact that you’re making every one of his fantasies come true.

You press a gentle kiss to the tip, lovely eyes staring at Mingyu. A string of precum sticks to your lips, and you’re quick to lick it off with a salacious moan. You start to kitten lick his fat tip until his cock steadily leaks with sticky blobs of precum. The mewls and moans your stepbrother lets out only make you that much more eager to please. He’s really too hot for his own good.

With a grin, you wrap your lips around the head and slowly take him into your mouth. Slowly, you force the girthy organ down your throat. Your eyes start to glaze over, already addicted to the thick cock in your mouth. Mingyu thrusts his hips forward, sinking another inch into your hot mouth. The fat tip teases the back of your throat, making you gag on his dick. A loud moan tears from his throat when you take it like a good girl before pulling off with a wet cough.

“Messy girl,” Mingyu says with a groan.

You moan and start to lap at his cock again. Your tongue teases around his tip, and you can’t stop your thighs from clenching together. The arousal is practically leaking from your pussy, wetting your thighs obscenely.

“Aw, baby girl. Look at how fucking horny you are,” Mingyu coos. “Bet that little cunt’s soaked. Can’t wait to taste it. Gonna eat you out for hours after this.”

“Why not now?” You pout against his dick. “I suck dick better when I get eaten out.”

Mingyu tries not to blow his load at your filthy words. “Yeah? Want me to lick your little clit over and over and then suck it in my mouth until you’re begging to cum?”

Once again, Mingyu is putty in your hands when you blink up at him with your cute pout and tell him that’s exactly what you want.

And so, within seconds you’re laying on Mingyu’s hard abs, suckling on the head of his cock as you wiggle your ass, teasing Mingyu with your pussy. He groans, savoring the sight of your pretty pussy hovering over his face. Deciding that he deserves this treat more than anyone, he finally takes what you’re so willingly giving him.

You cry out when Mingyu licks across your swollen clit. He grabs your ass and spreads you open so he can lick into your pussy easier. Eagerly, he starts to lap up all the arousal from your drippy pussy. He loses himself in your taste, fucking his tongue deeper into your clenching hole. You’re the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted, and he’ll be damned if he ever lets anyone else drink from his sweet oasis.

“Mingyu,” you slobber against his cock, grinding your cunt into his eager mouth. “Fuck. Your mouth feels so good.”

Mingyu groans as you start to suckle on the head of his cock before you fully sink your mouth on it again. Your hot little mouth works his cock, giving him the best head he’s ever gotten. You’re so messy and eager, kissing and licking all over his cock. The way you’re getting him all wet and messy almost makes him feel like you’re prepping him for your cunt. That turns him on more and has his muscular thighs clenching with restraint. 

Your stepbrother moans into your cunt as you suck his dick. The vibrations run through your fluttering walls as his tongue fucks deeper into your hole. Pleasure consumes you as Mingyu continues to slide his tongue in and out of your soaking pussy with a filthy schlick sound. All the sweet sounds you’re letting out are slightly muffled by Mingyu’s cock, and he loves every second of it.

Mingyu sucks your pulsing clit into his mouth, making you whine around his cock and grind harder on his tongue. Your orgasm abruptly hits, and your cries of pleasure are gagged by Mingyu shooting his cum down your throat. You continue to suck eagerly as you rub your messy pussy all over your stepbrother’s face.

You pull off Mingyu’s big cock after you swallow all his cum, mewling in pleasure when he starts to press soft kisses on your pretty pussy. God, he’s unreal.

“Sweetest little pussy ever,” he moans reverently, not ready to separate from the heaven between your legs.

Your face gets hot, pussy clenching at his praise. The fact that someone as hot as Mingyu is so into you feels surreal, and it makes you more eager to get his big cock inside you.

Mingyu apparently thinks the same thing because he’s quick to lay you on the bed and get on top of you. His dark eyes drink in your naked body, licking his lips like he didn’t just finish eating you up. 

“You have no idea what you do to me.”

And you really don’t.

“Mingyu,” you whimper desperately when he starts to rub his dripping cock across your sensitive cunt. 

The sticky tip of his cock catches on your leaking hole and you moan loudly. God, you’ve never wanted anyone to fuck you so badly. He’s so hot, and you know he’s going to send you into another world of pleasure.

“Fuck, Gyu. Need you to fuck me. Please. I need it so bad,” you beg against his mouth as you start to kiss him repeatedly.

“Yeah?” He grins, blush spreading across his face at the affection you’re giving him. “Need your stepbrother to stuff you full of cock?”

“Yes.” You whimper shamelessly. “I need you to stuff my little pussy full. Want you to breed me.”

The groan he lets out is feral, and Mingyu buries his face in your neck so you won’t see the depravity your words cause. He kisses and nips at your neck as he grinds his cock on your messy pussy.

“Please, Gyu-Gyu.”

“Fuck. You’re so hot, baby girl,” Mingyu groans as he slips the head of his cock inside your needy hole. 

He pulls back to watch your face as he slowly sinks into your pussy. You’re so overwhelmed with arousal, and it’s evident. It makes the feral beast inside Mingyu yearn for more.

“I’m gonna ruin you for everyone else, baby. Gonna make sure the only cock you want is mine.”

With that, he bottoms out with a loud moan as you whine loudly. Your pupils are blown wide as your nails scratch against his broad chest. It turns you on to feel and see how big he is. He’s completely enveloping you in the best way. All that fills your mind is your stepbrother and his big cock.

“So fucking tight,” he hisses as he rolls his hips and fucks his cock deeper into your pulsing heat.

You wrap your legs around his waist to get him as deep as possible. Moans spill from your mouth as your hands smooth up his muscular chest and clasp around his neck. No one’s ever been so deep inside you, and you love it.

“Fuck me, Gyu.” You mewl, brain fuzzy from the stretch his dick provides. “Want you to fuck me dumb.”

“Shit,” Mingyu grunts with dark eyes. “My slutty baby wants her pussy creamed so fucking bad, huh?”

“Want it so bad, babe.” You whimper as you buck your hips.

Mingyu snaps when he hears the little pet name. Immediately, he starts to slam into your squelching cunt over and over again. You cry out loudly as juices leak from your stuffed hole. It takes him no time to find your g-spot, and he angles his cock to hit it every time he snaps his hips.

“Fu-Fuck, Gyu.” You whimper as you tug him closer to ghost your lips across his. “Gonna cum again. Gonna cum all over your big cock.”

“Do it, baby. God. Need to feel you cream on me,” he groans. 

You move your hips to meet his thrusts, eager to gush all over his dick and give him what he wants. Mingyu goes to kiss you deeply, moaning in satisfaction when your pulsing pussy clamps down on him again. His mind is swimming with pleasure as you cry out for him.

Mingyu’s heavy balls slap against your ass as he fucks deeper into your wet hole. You’re gushing so much that he knows you won’t be able to stop at just one orgasm. Which is exactly what he wants. He needs you addicted to his cock so you don’t ever consider going to someone else. Even if you do, he’ll get rid of them. Now that you’ve given him a taste, he’s going to make sure no one else has the chance to.

“God, Mingyu.” You whimper, toes curling in pleasure. “Just want you to keep me stuffed with your fat cock all night.”

Mingyu groans and presses a chaste kiss on your lips. He’ll give you anything you want. “Don’t worry, baby. That’s exactly what I’m going to do. Gonna breed you all night.”

Your stepbrother’s promise pushes you over the edge. Those filthy words make your legs tighten around him as your pussy clamps down on his dick. You moan out Mingyu’s name loudly as you cover his cock with your orgasm. Your legs tremble as you keep getting fucked through your mind-numbing pleasure.

“That’s it, baby. Cum all over your stepbrother’s cock. Fuck. So good for me.”

Mingyu’s thrusts get rougher as he pistons his cock deeper into your pulsing cunt. There’s no hotter sight than you cumming all over his cock. The pretty face you make is something that he’ll never forget, and that’s all he needs to reach his own climax. Mingyu buries his cock to the hilt and spills all his hot, sticky cum inside you with a loud moan of your name. He keeps fucking his cock into your hot cunt, stuffing it full of cum. 

“Take it like a good girl,” he pants, eyes shut tightly as he keeps fucking his aching cock inside you. “Take every fucking drop, baby girl.”

You move your hands to cling to his hair, grinding your sloppy pussy to get his cum deeper inside. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he creams your pussy.

“Gyu,” you whimper. “You came so much—fuck. Feels so hot inside.”

Mingyu groans as he buries his face in your neck, cock pulsing at your words. “Shit, baby. Making me want to fuck you all over again.”

You hum, deciding that you won’t be leaving his bed anytime soon. “It’s my turn.”

Mingyu grunts in surprise when you push him off and make him lean against the headboard. Immediately, you go to straddle him before smashing your lips together. He hungrily kisses you back, big hands gripping your ass to grind your messy cunt onto his hot cock. 

“So hot,” you gasp in between kisses. “You’re so fucking hot."

Mingyu giggles into your mouth. “Yeah?”

You hum in confirmation as you suck on his tongue. Again, you tangle one of your hands in his hair and pull his head back so you can kiss him deeper. The kiss you share is nasty, and it just makes you needy for him all over again.

You pull away and grab his cock. Mingyu bites his lip as you slowly sink down on it. He slumps back against the headboard, giving you time to adjust to the stretch of his thick cock. Your stepbrother smooths his thumbs across your hard nipples, smirking when you clench down on him.

“God, you’re fucking pretty,” Mingyu growls as he punches your nipples. “My pretty baby.”

“Mingyu,” you sigh as your eyelashes flutter in pleasure.

You grind down on him, hips swivelling to fuck him just right. It doesn’t take long for him to become a mess under you. You smirk and start to bounce on him, loving how he’s practically writhing with pleasure. 

“I just wanna be inside you all the time,” he tugs on the sensitive buds until you’re arching into the motion. 

You duck your head down to sloppily kiss Mingyu again when there’s a knock on the door. Even to your surprise, you don’t stop your movements. It feels too good. You pull away, wondering when your parents came back home and how you didn’t hear them. Your pussy gets tighter, and Mingyu bites his bottom lip as he grabs your hips to keep you from moving.

“Mingyu? Are you still awake?” His mom calls through the door. 

At that moment, you two make a decision. A nasty, filthy one. Mingyu maintains eye contact with you and slowly fucks his cock up into your sloppy pussy. 

“Yeah. Do you need something?”

Your eyes roll back, cunt spasming around Mingyu’s dick. The lewd switching coming from your pussy seems louder now, but you don’t think to stop your stepbrother from bullying his cock in and out of your hole. 

“Have you seen Y/N? She’s not in her room.”

“She’s in here. We were watching a movie and she fell asleep,” Mingyu’s voice is smooth and even. It makes you start to bounce on him again. “I’ll take her to her room in a second.”

Your stepbrother’s dark eyes never leave yours as he starts to whisper. “You like that we might get caught?”

You nod again, barely able to hold back your moans.

“Okay good. I was worried since it’s getting late.”

Mingyu grinds his cock deep in your cunt and moves his thumb down to rub your clit roughly. You’re so wet that even with Mingyu's slow, deep thrusts, your pussy is squelching with every movement. 

“Dirty little slut. Imagine if she had opened the door,” Mingyu holds back a groan as your hot cunt clamps down on him again. “She would’ve seen how much you love your stepbrother’s cock.”

You bounce a little harder on his dick when you hear his filthy words. His thumb continues to flick and rub at your swollen clit. Your head tips back as your pussy gushes around his cock when your orgasm hits out of nowhere. 

Mingyu watches your throbbing pussy clamp down on him as he slowly thrusts into you. You feel his hands squeeze your hips hard enough to bruise. His slow thrusts are prolonging your orgasm, walls fluttering constantly around his dick. Mingyu’s thumb is still rubbing your clit, overstimulation making the muscles in your thighs jump. 

“God, baby.” Mingyu groans. “So fucking dirty, cumming all over my cock like that. Did thinking we were gonna get caught turn you on that much?”

“Yeah,” you mewl, too turned on to feel embarrassed.

Your thighs shake with the force of your second orgasm, pussy trying to milk Mingyu’s cock for more cum.

“You’re so nasty, baby girl.” Mingyu moans, raising to suck on your nipples. He smirks when your pulsing pussy clamps down on him again.

“My dirty little slut. Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

He bites down on your nipple as he pumps his hips into your soaked cunt. You moan as his hot cum fills your greedy pussy, walls fluttering and urging him to spill more inside of you. Mingyu fucks it deeper into you until all you can do is whimper and mewl like the fucked out slut he turned you into.

After a few minutes, he relaxes back into the bed, pulling you down to lay on him. You close your eyes, completely sated and full. As you go to move, Mingyu holds you still before his cock can slip out of you.

“Stay where you are,” his voice is commanding. “Want to keep you plugged up.”

You shiver and relax against him. “Okay.”

Soon enough, your breathing evens out and you fall asleep. Mingyu places a gentle kiss on your hair, loving that you’ve fallen asleep with his cock and cum still inside you. He closes his eyes and squeezes you against him like he’s afraid you might disappear.

It took a long time to get here, but it was all worth it

From suggesting to his stepdad that you moving back home would be a good idea to making sure his mom did the same. That made it easier to listen in on the many calls you had with your friends and find out everything about your ideal man. It helped him mold himself into everything you wanted, which wasn’t too hard because Mingyu swears you were describing him.

Going into your room when you were out of the house also lets him know more about you. All of your interests and hobbies are there for him to learn and master. It also made it easier for him to get you gifts.

And finally, constantly borrowing your laptop to find out what type of porn you liked. It was all good stuff, things that he knew he was good at. Obviously, you liked to be degraded a little, but also worshipped. Mingyu licks his lips as he thinks about all the things he’s going to recreate with you. His cock throbs inside your warm pussy just thinking about it.

Everything is perfect, and Mingyu will do anything to keep it this way. He’ll continue to drive away any threats from your life because he’s the only one who can have you.

And if a day ever comes when you no longer want him, he’ll make sure no one else can have you either.