#and that made all the difference in their interactions

[mumbojumboshipbrackets]

Dear Joe Hills and Martyn, the two guys on tumblr who i see hiding in the tags often- I do not have the energy to block you, please just don't interact. Thank you , love your content-

REMEMBER THIS IS JUST THE CHARACTERS NOT THE CREATORS

Martyn InTheLittleWood

Submissions: 5 Reasons: - They could've been so domestic and lovely but the watchers said screw you - They were canonically married in Last Life, something no one talks about nearly enough. Martyn is the jealous girlfriend who tries so hard to be casual and Mumbo is scared of commitment and is trying his hardest for Martyn. They are messy, they are fun, they are the friends who are exes but are still on good terms. They need to be talked about more. - They're literally married

Joe Hills

Submissions: 2 Reasons: - Joe Hills reblogged?? AND STREAM MENTION. (I regret. So much. We're here now I guess) - (from tags) #right well since no reasons were given and joe was so kind as to direct us to the poll: ok! mumbjoe a.k.a hillspoons ← name i just made up right now should win because joe is the reason HCS2 happened & that mumbo (& cleo) was added so maybe mumbo comes into HC with the impression that joe is this super-confident authority figure. & is a bit intimidated, only to be met with The Joehills Difference and all the good goofs that entails. idk i just think mumbo should develop a bit of a crush about it. that is all ✨

[notquitecanon]

IRL Plug and Play || Poly!141 x Fem!Reader

Summary: Third part of my Search History series (based on Penelope Garcia from Criminal minds) , the dinner party. The culmination of a month of knowing the boy's browser histories. Not much of a summary, it's pretty much dirty from start to finish.

18+ NSFW MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Warning: Fem pronouns and genitals, alcohol consumption, alcohol used during sex, porn, emulating porn, group sex, unprotected sex, tagging dub con just to be on the safe side but not really if you read the other parts you get it, Oral (M & F recieiving), fingering, penetration (F receiving) , allusions to penetration (male recieving), inappropriate use of cigar ashes. Genuinely this is just me being gross about these men for almost 12,000 words, proceed with caution. Say it with me one more time- irl this would be workplace harassment and NOT sexy. However, these are fictional war criminals who ARE sexy so we’re forgiving it. 

Original Idea First Prev My Masterlist

made a lil header for the first time these are the vibes of reader and 141 :) (not Penelope's psychical description just her vibes)

pssst see how they're all on their mics in the pics?? its cuz your the voice in their ears :)

When you pulled into a parking spot on John Price’s street thirty minutes early, you automatically feel squirmy and a little foolish. Foolish because you’d convinced yourself that you were reading too much into things. So much so, that, somehow, the boys seeking out your porn twin had circled back around to you feeling like the unprofessional one. Squirming because you’d found the video they’d all watched more than once (more than three times) in the last days of their assignment. Barrack’s Bunny Get’s Gang Banged! 

 (Of course it was a military inspired orgy video, with four men and one woman that looked almost identical to you. Because, JFC, why wouldn’t it be? Was this actress in on the torment? Was she taking requests or was this some sort of cosmic joke where the punchline was your own sexual frustration?)  

Ok, how the hell were you not supposed to read into that? 

You hadn’t been able to watch it all the way through yet, having to pause and take breaks to calm yourself down. The thumbnail alone of your doppelgänger with four sets of hands and… other extremities... was enough to tempt you put your car back in drive and go back home. Because you weren’t sure you could look any of them in the eyes, and also for the third time in the last hour, you were second guessing your outfit. 

Because what the hell does one wear to the porn-party with their boss and superiors? (Ok, maybe you should start by stop calling it the ‘porn-party’, because outside of your own finding in their browser histories, they’d yet to mention any actual porn to you in real life, but what else were you supposed to call this?)

After leaving work, you’d spent a long time debating if you needed to change and, if so, into what, and would it be delusional to put on a matching set? Johnny did say he liked seeing something soft… And were your work clothes too stiff? Was the skirt too presumptuous after that video Kyle liked titled Easy Access ? And was it just you or did your work blouse look slightly too much like the one from the office-scene Price had bookmarked? And why the hell was this all you could think about? Strewing your clothes around your bedroom like a teenager before a party, different combinations and options littering your bed and dresser until you got frustrated with yourself and your closet. With a what the hell moment of ambivalence, you’d settled on something comfortable, but switched into a lacy bralette, lying to yourself that it was more comfortable than the one you’d worn to work, and if the lacy strap happened to coquettishly accent your shoulder when your sweater sleeve slipped down your arm? Well, if it wasn’t a Porn Party, then no one would notice, and if it was, well it’d be sure to draw some appreciative eyes. 

Your car was still cranked as you sat slightly down the block from Price’s house in your casual sweater and hidden matching set, anxiously killing time by alternating between tik tok, instagram, tumblr, and oh yes,  the Barracks Bunny Gets Gang Banged video that you’d been working through thirty seconds at a time because any longer had your overheating and threatening to leave a snail trail on your upholstery. So enthralled and flustered, you’d barely thought of the fact you were quietly playing porn over your car’s bluetooth system, you’d made it to the official halfway mark, and each time you’d switched out to a different app, the ‘break’ was short lived as you went back for more, one hand white knuckling your steering wheel as if this was a particularly good movie with a plot twist you just couldn’t miss. 

So enthralled, that a sudden knocking on your window startled you so bad that you half-tossed-half-dropped your phone with a sound that could only be described as a ’squawk’  as you slammed the mute button to your car’s stereo. It was as you were turning towards the knocker, that you realized you could 100% catch a public indecency charge for this, and somehow were still only half relieved to find Johnny leaning slightly down so he could meet your gaze through your driver-side window. He had his raincoat on, and a lit cigarette pinched between his thumb and pointer as he looked in on you with a cheeky smile and raised brows. When you just stared up at him like a deer in headlights, mentally trying to figure out just how long he’d been there and if from that angle he could’ve seen your screen and how good was the sound proofing on your car…. As you ran those mental calculations, Johnny simply knocked again and this time added a downwards motion with his cigarette, requesting you to roll down the window. 

You’d never noticed how slow your windows descended as the two of you held eye contact (awkward on your side, delighted on his), until there was no longer a pane of glass between you. The cool, damp night breeze carried the scent of tobacco and some kind of Old Spice fragrance into your little car as you looked up at the Scotsman. He seem amused, but happy to see you, "Coming?" 

Your brain short circuited for a moment. Were you… cumming? You stared at him wide eyed, convinced you’d misheard him. 

"What?" Was all you managed to respond with, your brain still trying to scrub filthy, lewd images from between its lobes, like a community service volunteer cleaning graffiti off subway walls. Johnny’s eyebrows only raised higher with his signature, Can’t wait to tell Ghost about this look, as he took another deep puff of his cig. 

"Are ye coming inside, hen?" He clarified slowly with that shit eating grin after blowing his smoke away form you- what a gentleman, "Or are’ye planning to sit out here all night?" 

"Oh, right." You mumbled, resisting the urge to scrub your hands across your face to physically redirect your thoughts. Instead, you nodded and started gathering your things, "Yeah, yeah, I’m coming inside." 

"Good, Si was getting impatient." Johnny grinned, stepping back so you could open your car door after you fished your phone from the passenger floorboards and cut the engine. Si? You hadn’t head that nickname for Ghost before, hell, you still excusively called him Ghost to his face, because you’d not received permission for anything else. Simon was personal, Si… was intimate...  He watched you expectantly, snapping you out of your thoughts, and when you only responded in silent confusion, he reached inside the still open vehicle and tapped the buttons, "Window, bonnie, s'raining." 

Cheeks heating in mild embarrassment, you quickly cut the battery back on so you roll up the window and then get out. You’d always been a little scatter-brained, prone to being in your own little world, but this was getting excessive. Maybe all the porn really was melting your brain… With the windows up and double checking the car was off, you finally got out of the car. Johnny immediately took the plate of brownies out of your hand in the guise of gentlemanly conduct, but actually snuck one from under the plastic wrap before you could scold him.  

"Why so grim? Y’look like yer marching off to war." Johnny seemed pretty pleased with his own little joke, his free arm resting in the small of your back to guide you up Price’s porch step and into the house like you might run off down the street without his guidance. You were considering it anyways. 

"I don’t look grim." You shot him a look but didn’t shake off his arm, nor could you prevent the smile that was fighting at the corners of your mouth, snatching the brownies back from him before he could snag another, happy to have something to fidget with as you smoothed the plastic wrap back into place. 

"No, you most definitely do not." And there was the other sergeant, Kyle, holding the door open for the two of you. Smiling as charmingly as ever, Kyle was already taking the dish out of your hands only to hand the dessert back to Johnny to carry off somewhere else. Then, he was on you, "Glad you could make it, love. Don’t listen to Soap, you look beautiful.” “Hey! Dinnae say she couldn’t be grim and beautiful.” Soap called back, already on his way deeper into the house. 

"Such a shameless flirt." You scoffed just loud enough to drown out Johnny with your own teasing smile, a more usual routine amongst all the overthinking you’d been doing, as Gaz helped you out of your coat. Maybe you were imagining the sensuality, but you were not imagining how his touch lingered, and how his fingers grazed the fabric of your sweater as it was exposed. Hell, he was basically unwrapping your raincoat like it was the gift wrap on a present, "Don’t look half bad yourself, though." 

All the boys looked good in their civilian clothes, hell they’d all look good in anything (or nothing… Focus. Focus.). But Kyle? In his stylish and tailored clothes? He always looked he’d walked off a J. Crew magazine cover when he wasn’t on base. His burgundy sweater looked like something you wanted to rub your cheek against, soft and warm and it fit him like a glove. Gaz grinned at your little praise, not speeding up his maddeningly slow pace of peeling off your raincoat and adjusting your hair for you afterwards, which distracted you just enough that you didn’t notice the others watching his little show. One of his lingering fingers seemed to all together abandon it’s mission, instead tracing the arced lace strap of your (meticulously chosen) lace bralette strap that had fallen off your shoulder. You watched Kyle’s finger follow the flowery lace pattern for a moment before fixing back on your shoulder with an audible snap! that made you jump a little from the sting. 

This time you did see Johnny’s amused grin and slightly devious eyes as your own went wide and you let out a little yelp, snapping your eyes over your soldier at the sergeant. Gaz was quick to soothe the ouch, humming at you before you could get disgruntled while his warm palm cupped the curve of your shoulder and rubbed the slightly stinging skin softly. And if you were still reading into things (you were) you could swear it was just for him to have a reason to touch you more.

"Sorry, love, had to fix it, was bothering me." Was the only explanation offered for his actions. Once your jacket was off, Gaz hung it on the foyer hooks, it looking comically small and feminine between all four of theirs. You knew your brain was melted from all the porn when the visual immediately reminded you of the stupid video’s thumbnail picuture… the pretty, feminine actress with four huge actors surrounding her… Fortunately, Kyle tugging you further into the house pulled you out of your dirty-thought spiral. 

In the kitchen, John Price was waiting, marinating a platter of steaks. You couldn’t help the amused quirk of a smile at seeing the apron tied over his civilian clothes, an unlit cigar in the chest pocket for easy access. The captain smiled first to Gaz with an approving nod, and then to you with a teasing smirk, "Thought you’d sit out in your car all night." 

"I’m early." You defended yourself, cheeks now must be permanently stained into a flush with how easily they managed to fluster you. Gaz parked himself right beside you, leaning on the counter but standing so close that his shoulder was slotted slightly behind you, half his chest pressed to your back, distractingly proving your early guess that his sweater was, in fact, very soft.  It took the steam out of your vehement defense, "You said, eight. It’s 7:50." 

"Yeah, but you’ve been sitting out there since 7:30, love." Kyle chided. You wondered if it was the whiskey he was sipping that gave him the courage to puncuate his teasings with a slight pinch to your hip that made you squirm. His closeness kept you from slipping away as he shifted his attention to his captain, that easy going smile still on his face, "She brought brownies." 

"I know. Johnny’s already had two." Price smiled, slathering another steak with marinade and massaging it into the meat with tender but deliberate ministrations of his long fingers that, for a moment, made you jealous of a dead slab of beef. His eyes caught yours staring at his hands, chuckling as he cleared his throat, "We had something else in mind for dessert. Very sweet of you though." 

Something Price said made Kyle chuckle like it was some kind of inside joke, his fingers still on your hip, tracing little circles that were almost as distracting as… whatever the hell it was that Price was doing to the steaks. 

"Now, go off and relax. I’m about to cut onions and we don’t want to mess up that pretty make up." Price ordered, shooing you off towards his stocked bar cart, before adding quietly enough you thought you might have hallucinated it, "Not yet, anyways." 

__

Later, after you’d been supplied a drink and deposited on the couch with Ghost to watch what you were pretty sure was a rugby match (you were a little distracted by his warm arm draped over your shoulder, fingers tracing the same floral lace Gaz had). 

"Gonna have to make some more room, love." Kyle grinned, looking down at you, holding his drink in one hand and one of your brownies in the other. You looked around yourself, already sandwhiched between the armrest of the sofa and Ghost who hadn’t closed his legs even a fraction when Johnny’d led you to the couch originally. Wasn’t much room to make room with. 

"Oh, I can just-" you started, standing carefully as to not spill the drink Kyle had made for you. Before you could step away to claim the plush arm chair by the mantle (a safe distance from Simon’s thigh against yours and Kyle’s lingering touches), a strong arm wrapped around your middle and tugged you right back down. Instead of your original seat, however, it was Ghost who had pulled you side saddle into his lap, his other hand steadying the drink in yours. Gaz chuckled, taking the spot you had been sitting in, both men unbothered by your startled yelp. 

Despite the fact that Simon had forecully and silently pulled you onto his lap, when you gave him a bewildered look, he seemed not to even notice the fact you were sitting on him, his amber eyes focused on the fame playing even as his finger’s kneaded distracting little circles into the plushest part of your waist, his arm still wrapped around you like you might try and escape. And when you just blinked at him, his only offering was, "Tha’s Price’s chair." 

"Ye look comfy." Soap chided as he came around the corner with a beer and a lo-ball glass of some sort of whiskey, beer for himself and the (presumably) bourbon was given to Simon, both however, were offered to Simon, "Crack that for me, Si?" 

You watched, wide eyed and enamored, as he lifted his mask over his nose and used his teeth to crack the bottle open before taking a long swig and then handing it back to Johnny in exchange for the whiskey. You had a front row seat to the bob of his Adam’s apple, and the way a scar split the top corner of his lip vertically (you wondered if you would feel the scar if he was kissing you, focus, damnit, focus). Soap noticed your expression and the blush in your cheeks with a twinkle in his eyes, " ’s not nice to stare, bonnie." 

You stared a moment longer before forefully shaking yourself out of the stupor and taking a swig of your own drink, thankfully ice cold. The momentary pause allowed you to dip back into your usual well of sarcastic wit, offering the Scot a raised eyebrow, "You’re just jealous I’m not staring at you." 

Johnny only shrugged, stretching his arms across the back of the sofa, making his broad chest only seem broader, his grin showing just enough teeth to appear wolfish as his thigh pressed into Ghost’s and therefore the round of your ass, "Aye, maybe I am."  

"Ignore him, he’s been watching too much…" Simon started swirling then sipping his bourbon before tugging his mask down again afterwards. You knew the answer to his trail off and your internal body temp went up five degrees, alarm bells ringing in your brain. Johnny elbowed the taller man, so Simon only shrugged and finished lamely with, "stuff." 

Porn. He’s been watching a lot of porn. You all have.  I know that. You know that. We all know that. You brain chanting in time with those stupid circles he was rubbing on your hip as Johnny took the liberty of adjusting the hair off your shoulder, his voice a challenging chide,  "What’s that look for, bonnie? What’d you think he was gonna say?" 

Your mouth opened, and then closed, and you were saved from answering by Price coming into the living room, declaring the steaks were marinating so they had a while to just hang out. He gave Kyle a shoulder squeeze in passing, and offered you a warm smile before settling in his chair by the mantle. The chair you’d tried to escape to earlier. 

For a get-together planned around watching the game, it occurred to you that not a single eye was on the TV at the moment. Instead, you realized they were all on… you. Price in his chair, smoothing his beard. Simon still had you on his lap, amber eyes carefully scrutinizing your expression as you flicked your eyes over to Gaz, who was watching you- or rather the rise and fall of your chest as he pulled your legs into his lap- with a slightly cocked head, a small smile on his lips. And finally, Johnny, who’d not stopped fidgeting with your hair and the neckline of your sweater. 

Once again, you were uncharacteristically at a loss for words, squirming a bit on Simon’s lap as you tried to figure out what to say or if to say anything at all, because all that was coming to mind right now were two options. Are y’all trying to fuck me? and How’s the weather?. Both options made you want to crawl in a hole and stay there. 

"You’re quiet tonight, sweet, something on your mind?" Price raised his eyebrows, still smirking, knuckles tapping against the armrest, "Something you wanted to tell the boys, right? What we talked about in my office?" 

How were you supposed to broach the topic of their internet history, essentially admit to knowing about your XXX twin, while sitting on your superior's lap, having your hair played with, and your calves massaged through your leggings… 

"No, no. Just… enjoying my drink." You muttered, draining the rest of the beverage before leaning over to place the empty glass on the side table, which was a mistake because it just had you practically sprawled over the three men on the couch, "What game are we supposed to be watching tonight?" 

"Never mind that, hen." Johnny shrugged, clicking the TV off before tossing the remote to Price, "We’ve been into a… different form of entertainment lately." 

Yeah. I know. The problem is that I know. You thought to yourself, now not even able to pretend to watch the screen, forced to focus on all the hands and eyes on you. 

"Let’s stop dancing around it." Simon gruffed, resting his head against the back of the couch, his fingers trailing from your hip to the top of your thigh, "She’s not daft." 

"Lieutenant Riley, always the subtle one." Gaz rolled his eyes before sliding his eyes over to Price who gave him an affirmative nod, not unlike they would do in the field, and then his eyes were back on you, "So, we know you aren’t blind, love, sure you noticed something going on here." 

You weren’t sure if he was talking about what you’d dubbed the porn party or if he was just talking about the general bond between the men that went deeper than just elite squad, so you just nodded, hoping he would proceed with some more context clues… any keep rubbing his thumbs around your calf. It was not helping you focus. Kyle just grinned, his hands gently roaming up your shins to your knees and then back down, "Well, we’ve noticed something, too, love. You." 

"Me?" You parroted, half sincere half forced faux shock, that sent you further back into Johnny’s chest, the Scot who was still fiddling with your hair had also pressed his nose into the crown of your hair to smell whatever products you used. "Don’t sound so surprised, bonnie." He murmured into your hair before leaning past you to Simon, planting an open-mouthed, 

wet kiss against the larger man’s mask right beside your own face. Your mouth dried out despite just finishing your drink, tongue seeming too big for your mouth, eyes flicking rapidly between them and Gaz. You were beyond flustered, your stomach twisting in a both nerve wracking and enticing way. You didn’t know where to look, or if you should look, or look away. You didn’t want to look away, seeing Soap’s tongue find Simon’s mouth even through the cotton. Did they want the illusion of privacy and if so, how were you supposed to give them that when Simon was half groping you at the same time Johnny was lapping at his tongue 

through the balaclava? Johnny slid his eyes to you, barely breaking from Ghost, "S’alright, hen, don’t mind you watching us. After all, s’only fair." 

Your eyes widened, owlishly turning to Gaz though Simon kept you from slipping off his lap. Was that them telling you that they knew you knew? Was this some confession about finding your doppelgänger and watching enough of her content to pay off her car? He rolled his eyes at the other sergeant, his easy going smile returning when his eyes came back to you. 

"They’re so impatient." He chuckled with a what can you do shrug, as if they’d simply skipped to dessert (innuendo intended) instead of started sloppily making out with you in their lap. He quit massaging at your calves, instead using his middle and pointer fingers to trace patterns (you could swear it was a mimic of the lace pattern he’d traced earlier). Your eyes flicked over to Price, who was still just watching, leaned back in his chair, jutting his chin back to Gaz as if telling you to pay attention. Sheepishly, you turned back to Kyle, "So, we’ve… discovered this person online, and she looks… so much like you. Genuinely, love, it’s uncanny. And there’s this video she made that really caught our attention-" 

"She knows the one." "Aye, She’s seen it." 

Both Price and Johnny answered at the same time. Price, because you’d brought up the issue to him in his office. And Johnny… had apparently been standing outside your car longer than you thought and could see your screen. Your cheeks had to be glowing by now. Kyle’s smile just grew, flashing perfect white teeth at you as he leaned in closer, "Perfect, then we can skip that explanation. But once we saw it… well, it kind of got under our skin. You’ve gotten under our skin, love."  

Johnny and Simon hadn’t stopped though they had shifted and suddenly there lips were back and forth on each other, and also over your neck and shoulders as you tried fervently to keep your eyes on Gaz as he leaned closer, pulling the sleeve of your sweater off your shoulder to expose that lace strap again, "And, judging by how you’ve been acting lately, we’ve gotten under yours too." 

"Yeah. Yeah. That’s one way to put it." You admitted in a released breath, eyes flicked down to Simon who’d been kissing and sucking right at the curve of your shoulder for several long seconds, like if he wasn’t already under your skin, he’d supplant himself there personally. Johnny wasn’t going under your clothes, but his hands were tracing the line of your spine, finding the waistband of your leggings, nosing into your hair so he could kiss the shell of your ear. All while Kyle just kept that pretty grin on you, somehow putting you at ease and twisting your nerves even more. 

"And, truthfully, we could sit here talking about it all night, Or…"  And Kyle Garrick, with that unfairly, stupidly charming smile of his, made a veritable orgy sound as commonplace and sensible as going to the pub afterwork, and you found yourself dumbly nodding along to his easy words before you anxieties, logical and/or otherwise, could convince you that group sex with your coworkers was probably not the most professional way to spend a Friday night. But, damn, the sparkle in those pretty hazel-brown eyes was doing a good job of easing any worries that charming smile had missed… 

Price finally spoke up again, but stayed in his chair, "You're nodding, sweet, but we gotta hear it. Out loud. Do you want this?" 

When you looked over again, John Price was looking wholly the Captain he was. If you thought he was making a point to manspread in his office earlier in the day, now… Now he was just showing off. He looked like he was posing on a throne, legs spread, elbows resting on the arms of the chair as he settled in, watching the three soldiers and you on the couch.  Seemingly completely nonplussed by his subordinate employees’ heavy petting on his couch. 

Your internal reflection was swift. You were already getting felt up. If going into the office was going to be awkward on Monday, it was going to be awkward regardless of whether or not you cut it off at groping. You might as well let them relieve the nagging itch in the back of your mind while you were at it. So after another dumb nod, you found your voice again, "Yes. Yes. I want it. Please." 

"So polite." Johnny murmured, taking you verbal confirmation as permission to slip his hands underneath your clothes, mapping your bare skin, "And you’ll say something if it’s too much?" 

"Yeah, yeah." You nodded fervently, turning your head to try and catch one of their lips, the sweater had been stifling for the past hour, but now it was itching at your feverish skin. Johnny just smiled, helping you out of the thing. 

"Good girl." Simon nodded before his amber eyes lit up a bit, "Well, would you look at tha’." 

His fingers dipped under the lacy band of the bralette you were wearing. Johnny had already run his hands over the fabric while Kyle just whistled lowly. Price was the one who spoke up about it, "Did you put that on just for us, sweet?" 

"Just in… just in case." You nodded in a breath, leaning back into Johnny as he started rolling your leggings down, exposing the complimentary lace waistband of your panties. Another round of appreciative comments and touches, Simon’s teeth nipping at the curve of your neck again. 

"Too good to us, love." Gaz shook his head, helping his fellow sergeant get your leggings all the way off and tossing them somewhere out of sight, pressing kisses to the top of your thighs, then your knees, and finally one too the inside of your ankle. " So you suspected all along. How’d you see the video?" 

"Go on, sweet, fill him in." Price prompted with that stupid little smirk, the one that tugged the corners of his beard up. The one that made you want to get on your knees and do anything to earn one of those approving nods. 

"I-I can see the websites y’all visit." You admitted breathlessly, watching as Kyle kissed his way back up your legs, how those eyes never broke contact with yours, "I have to clear them for security purposes. I’ve.. I’ve seen all the videos y’all’ve been sharing with each other." “

All of them. So 

that’s why you’ve been so quiet, bonnie?" Johnny hummed, a smile pressed into the base of your neck, watching Simon nip at your neck, teeth digging in harder every time, making you whimper which seemed to only egg Ghost on. 

"Flattered or offended?" Kyle asked, but his smile told you he already knew the answer. Because, with you sprawled over the laps of three men, if you were offended you had a funny way of showing it. 

"I should’ve been." You gulped after breaking off Johnny’s lips for a moment, adding on, "Offended."

"But you’re not?" Price prompted, head cocking to the side as he fiddled with lighting his cigar. 

No. For better or for worse, this roundabout workplace harassment approach had really worked on you. So you just shook your head, opening your mouth as Simon pulled his mask up and caught your lips, tongue domineering itself into your mouth almost instantly. 

"So cooperative, nice change of pace." One of them hummed, but you couldn’t place it, too focussed on the fingers kneading at your inner thighs, slowly working your legs open into a spread so your knee’s were hooked over each side of Simon’s wide spread legs, which exposed the dampened gusset of the deliberately chosen panties. 

"All right, deal’s a deal, Garrick," Simon all but growled into your mouth, your eyes fluttering open to see his amber eyes watching Kyle who was smirking like he’d just gotten away with something, "You get first taste. Warm ‘er up for us." 

Oh. Oh. Just diving right in. Though Gaz was ever the gentleman, charming through and through. 

"May I?" He asked softly, waiting with his fingers hooked in the lacy waistband as he sunk to his knees in front of you. Your breath picked up just from the sight, and it was only Simon holding you to him that kept you from leaning down and catching a kiss from Kyle as well. Since that wasn't an option, you jerked your head in a clumsy nod, punctuating with the cant of your hips towards him that just made him chuckle as your panties were discarded towards the same direction as your pants. 

"Please." You whined, the tone making all of the men snap their eyes up to you, the expressions all reading make her do it again. You didn’t even have time to adjust to the cold air on your exposed bits before Gaz’s hot mouth was covering the sensitive flesh, drawing a gasp as you threw yourself back into Simon’s chest. Ghost only hooked his chin over your shoulder, lazily watching as Gaz licked a flat stripe, first dipping into your entrance, teasing a bit as deep as he could get. Your clit got a little attention from his nose bumping it, make you breathe sharp breaths with little clipped moans. But when he withdrew and  traced his tongue  back up, finding your clit and slipping under the hood, your attempts at demure noises were nixed by a sudden and echoing moan. 

"That good? Yeah, Gaz’s pretty skilled with ‘is tongue." Johnny nodded, nuzzling at your other shoulder as he watched on too, palming himself through his jeans, "Meticulous thing he is." 

"How’s she taste, sergeant?" Price asked, adjusting himself as well. Kyle surfaced for only a moment, replacing his tongue with his fingers when you whined in disappointment. 

"Better than the bloody brownies, that’s for certain." He hummed, his corners of his mouth glistening, eyes flicking up to you as he rested a cheek against the inside of your thigh. You tried to be offended at the diss to your baking skills, but as Kyle dove back in, a skillful swirl and lewd slurp killed any smart comment on your tongue, or rather on his. You weren’t sure if it was even possible to actually decipher, but you were certain he was spelling barrack’s bunny over your clit with his tongue, letter by unraveling letter. All four men seemed to delight in how your breathing sped up, how your head seemed so heavy to hold up that it flopped backwards into Simon’s shoulder. Kyle tolerated your hips rolling twice, but his chivalry ended the third time, reaching up and placing Simon’s hand at your waist to hold you still for him, while his hands kept your thighs from closing around his head. The message was clear. Anything you were getting would come from him and only him. You recalled how so many of his preferred videos revolved around control, pleasure dom, a term you had had to google. All you could do was stare down between your legs and watch him devour you. 

"If she tastes half as good as she looks…" Johnny trailed off, catching the corner of your mouth for a short kiss, his fingers tracing the lace pattern right over your perked nipples, at least Simon was lenient enough to let you arch your chest into the touch, "Right treat you are, hen." 

Your first climax was a quick thing, a full body clench and vulgar moan clawing its way out of your throat, your thighs trembling around Kyle as he licked and slurped his way through your high, collected anything you put out for him. His movements only slowing when your body relaxed back against Ghost. He gave your pussy a comedically sweet kiss before sitting up, and it was only then that he pulled you down to him for your first real kiss from him. It was tender and sweet, with the appropriate amount of tongue, almost the kind of kiss you’d give on a really good first date, if it wasn’t for the fact you could taste your essence on him, your cum making his lips slippery against yours. 

"Called dibs on that weeks ago." He grinned, breaking the kiss to watch his fingers to dip between your legs, collect some more of your wetness and pop it in his mouth, eyes closing like he was savoring a fine wine.  You watched him with mouth agape and eyes half lidded, "Alright then, Tav, surprised you held yourself back this long, go on then."

Johnny’s smile was all teeth as he descended upon you, kissing any of your slick off your mouth that Kyle’d left behind like he was getting a sneak preview. Though, for someone so often ridiculed for being impatient, he was anal about this kiss. Making sure to try every angle of his mouth against yours, then repeating his tests with tongue, and then once more splitting your attention with Simon. Ghost played along for a while, letting his sergeant explore your lips and your chest before he nodded down to the floor when Kyle’d been. 

"Keep yourself busy, Johnny." Was the clipped order, as he took over kissing you, one large hand splayed along your face to keep you drawn to him, as if you might try to get away. He had nothing to worry about, the whiplash of switching partners and desires had you craving attention anywhere you could find it. You were already putty on his lap with Johnny taking over Kyle’s place between you legs. While it was still overwhelmingly pleasurable, his actions were more sloppy than Kyle’s. His strategy was to barrage your nerves as opposed to Kyle’s precision attacks. It still had you whining and squirming, which was enough to short circuit your focus. Johnny didn’t seem to mind you instinctively grinding into his face, in fact it only seemed to encourage him. Simon’s job was to keep you from melting off his lap, which he did while his kisses became harder and harder, sometimes biting at your bottom lip, "Now you just taste like his shitty beer, you’ll lemme fix that, won’t you, lovie?" 

When you nodded, he smiled, tugging the balaclava all the way off. You didn’t even have time to properly admire how handsome he was under the thing, didn’t have time to pepper those scars with kisses or wax poetic about how all his unconventional features played together harmoniously to make him exceedingly handsome. Before you could do any of that, he’d taken a sip of his bourbon, swallowing as he watched you watch him. 

"Open." He directed, nodding when you obediently dropped your mouth open. He tipped your head back at the same time as he took a longer draw of his bourbon, holding it in his mouth for a moment before pulling your lips up to his and kissing the liquor straight onto your tongue, burning off anything and anyone else. When he’d given you every last drop, he pulled back and manually shut your mouth, "Go on and swallow for me, don’t waste it. ’s hard to get this stuff ‘round here." 

Bourbon wasn’t often in your rotation for drinks, the taste smoky and sharp just like the man that had kissed it into your mouth, but one look into Simon’s eyes had you nodding again. As you forced yourself to swallow it, the burn going all the way into stomach, stoking the fires the men had started in you. After he watched your throat bob, he nodded approvingly. 

"Good fuckin’ girl." He praised which made the burning sting worth it, catching your lips in another punishing kiss when you moaned from Johnny’s sloppy slurping. Simon hummed, finding that your mouth now tasted like his preferred pour, "Much better." 

After kissing the taste of his bourbon off you, he pulled back for a moment just to watch you whine and grind against the sergeant between both sets of your legs. After a moment of appreciation for the garment against your skin, the bralette they’d all liked so much was roughly yanked down,  the straps down your shoulders while the cups and band bunched up under your now exposed breasts. Johnny was watching from the floor, his big blue eyes crinkling and lips pulling into a smile against you, while Simon ran his hands over your bare chest, stopping to squeeze and pinch when he pleased. “Johnny- 

Ghost-" You almost shrieked not sure who to call too or thank for the electric static in your nervous system, arching your chest up into his hands, and when the movement moved your hips away from Johnny, he just took your legs off Simon’s knees and hooked them over his shoulders, keeping you firmly in place, "

Shit." 

"Language, sweet." Price teasingly scolded from his chair, still stroking his beard from his arm chair. Gaz and Simon just chuckled when you pouted through another throaty moan. Simon was nudging your cheek with his nose, skimming his teeth across you jawline between kisses that trailed fown your neck, sucking marks that would stay for weeks, always finding his way back to what seemed to be his favorite spot in the curve of your neck. “Should’ve seen the Sergeants when they first found that video, acting like they’d won the fuckin' lottery. Been wanting you for months but tha’ really sealed the deal, lovie, couldn’t even get through the first quarter before this one was panting and rutting. Like it was the first time they’d ever seen a dirty video. Ain’t that right, Johny?”  It was the most you’d ever heard Simon talk in one go, every couple of words grunted and groaned out between kisses across any skin he could reach with you sitting back against him, breath hotly fanning along your neck as he went. And when he finished the thought, he reached down between your legs and fished the sergeant up by his mohawk, leaving both you and Johnny whine at the loss of contact. Simon just laughed coldly and gave Johnny a prompting jerk, much rougher than he’d been touching you, “You gonna answer us, Johnny?”  “Aye. Aye. Knew I had to get ma’ hands on ye.” Was all he managed before diving in for another taste of you, surfacing briefly again to relay a message up to Simon, half moaned half growled, 

"This cunt's like fucking silk, I’ll tell you, Lt.” Strong hands clenching into the plushest parts your thighs holding them around his face like he was 

hoping he’d suffocate down there, "Ye gotta get in here, ain’t nothing like it."

"You want that, sweetheart?" Simon hummed, moving from your lips to your jaw and down your neck, "Want me in you?"

"Fuck. Yes, fuck me." You rambled which just made them chuckle at you as one of your hands when into Johnny’s mohawk and the other palmed at your breasts. Johnny moaned when you tugged at his hair, sending subtle vibrations up with his tongue that almost sent you undone again. Simon easily pushed you down his legs, still supporting you with one hand as Johnny kept going, and freeing his erection with the other. Gaz and Johnny had worked hard to warm you up, to break you in for them, but Simon’s dick threatened to break you, period. He was just as thick as John, but almost as long as Kyle, cut, veiny, with a pretty pink tip. Como se dice, how you say… hung like a fucking horse.  

He must’ve seen your wide eyes, the subtle fear in your eyes that was chased away when Johnny drug his teeth over your clit with just enough pressure to make you choke on your own spit. Ghost reached down intermingling his fingers with your folds and Johnny’s tongue, "We’ll start easy. Just the tip, lovie. Johnny’ll handle the rest for now." 

They did just that. He held his hand out to Johnny, letting the man on his knees spit into his palm and then rubbed it against his dick, before pulling you back against him once more. Before he even attempted any sort of penetration, he slid his erection through your folds a couple of times just to collect some more slick,  "You are just like silk, Johnny was right." 

He grunted into your neck with another few slippery passes before reaching down as easing the tip into you. He was thick, enough so that it stung a bit as you tried to adjust. Despite his soft voice and unusually soft eyes, Simon’s control slipped, rutting a bit before you were ready. At you uncomfortable whine, Johnny mirrored the sound in disapproval of your upset, immediately going to remedy the hurt with his tongue, servicing both you and Simon with a flat lick up Simon’s exposed length and then up to your clit to help you relax. 

"Breathe for me, lovie." The Liutenant ordered, like he was trying to be gentle with you but his jaw was gritted, trying even harder not to snap his hips against yours and bully his too-big dick into your hole, "Try to relax for me." 

You were panting, cheeks puffing with your breaths, not sure if Johnny’s tongue was helping or just tensing you up more, but God, it felt good and you weren’t going to be the one to tell him to stop. Not yet at least. You got another inch in, which earned a kiss to your neck. 

" s’all I can take right now." You breathed, reaching back to support yourself against him. 

"Better than I did on my first go, eh, LT?" Johnny grinned up before kissing up the length of Simon’s cock that wasn't inside of you, flicking his tongue over the stretched rim of your entrance that was still trying to clench around the sudden intrusion, "She’s tryin’ so hard." 

By the look in his eyes, he wasn’t talking about you. The She in question was just your pussy. Simon nodded along, hissing curses into your hair. 

"Alright, lovie, alright, no more for now." He gritted out, " ‘m gonna move now, just try and stay loose as you can for me." 

Humming in agreement, you tried to let yourself be pliant against him, feeling his hips rock, the in and out of his movements pleasurable enough to draw out a keening moan despite the less than comfortable stretch. His lips were at your neck again as he continued his thrusts, slightly steadier, growing more confident. And then it was his teeth, nipping between sucks, though his words were still growled, "That’s it, doing so good for me, for us." 

Your mistake was losing yourself in the feeling, letting your hips rock because it shattered what little control Ghost had at the moment. He sunk in another few inches, teetering between painful and pleasurable, making you cry out, nails digging into his forearms as a tear slipped down your cheek. The dig of your nails only urged him on, the nip of your teeth turning into a full bite, enough to break skin just slightly. However, the moment your cry was one of actual discomfort instead of pleasure, he withdrew completely, kissing over where he’d bitten, "Sorry, sorry, lovie, got too rough, too quick with you." 

He slowly eased you off of him, nudging Johnny off as well, still kissing at the spot he’d bitten too harshly, fingers kneading comfort into your hips and then your thigh, "Y'alright? Need to stop?" 

You took a breath, let the initial shock of the stretch and the bite fade away, let him swipe the rogue tear off your cheek, let your body readjust…. and then shook your head, signalling you wanted to keep going, pulling him by the back of the neck down to you again for a kiss. Johnny was still at your knees, massaging your thighs, watching Simon deepen the kiss as much as you’d let him, and then pushing a little further, his fingers flexing hard into you again making you wince just a little. Honestly, you could’ve endured that, hell with another couple of kisses, you could’ve enjoyed it. But this time, he cut himself off, pulling back with a slew of curses that’d send a sailor to confession. 

"Fuck, ‘m sorry, sweetheart, I’ve never been good at taking it slow." Simon growled, jaw still clenched so hard you were afraid he’d crack a tooth., thumbs easing the irritated skin he’d clenched just slightly too hard, "You’re just too perfect, can’t keep my head on straight."

Ghost stopped to think for a moment, breathing hot and heaving against you skin, before flicking his eyes down to Soap who’d stopped massaging your thighs in favor of featherlight kisses where his stubble had chafed you. You’d seen this before, the internet called it cuteness aggression. 

"Price." He called, nodding to his Captain, a signal to take over. John nodded, and after meeting your still lust glazed expression, ascertaining you were alright, seemed rather amused by the tag-in.  It seemed, despite the civilian clothes  and whatever intimacy was shared amongst the group, rank hierarchy was still firmly present, because when Captain Price finally rose from his arm chair, the sergeants and Lieutenant wordlessly moved out of his way, presenting you along the way for him as his belt buckle jingled being loosened and discarded. 

Still, despite his evident imposition, his strength was gentle as he peeled you off his lieutenant who stood, manhandling Johnny off with him to the chair. Half dazed and panting, you were grateful for his patience as he asked with only a little teasing, "Can you stand for me, Sweet, just a little?" 

And when your legs were still jelly and trembling, he just chuckled, leaking cigar smoke into your mussed hair, "That’s alright, Sweet, you just let me lay you out all pretty." 

With that, you were bent over the arm of your boss’s sofa, callous hands traced slowly down your spine and then paused at your hips, massaging your flanks much as he had his cuts of steak. Price massaged his way from your hips, over and around your ass, and then worked from outwards to the inner most part of your thighs. Finally, he dragged a flat palm up your exposed sex, and when you looked over your shoulder, he was licking his tongue across that same hand, a deep rumbling growl shaking you to your core as you watched him taste not only you, but also notes of his boys, "Sweeter than fuckin’ sugar, love. Fuckin’ perfect." 

You just stared at him with wide eyes, limply spread over the arm rest, hips instinctively pressing back into him to find more touch, more friction, more him. Words failed, only high pitched whines made it out. Which made Johnny, off to the side, chuckle. 

"Think this is the longest I’ve ever seen her quiet." The scot chided, watching with great interest as Price took another swipe through your folds, coating his cock in whatever (whoever’s) bodily fluids he collected there. 

"Maybe you should take some notes, mutt." Simon gruffed, taking a fistful of the sergeant’s Mohawk and tugging it rather harshly backwards, exposing Johnny’s throat that his teeth descended upon almost immediately. Some time between being between our legs and being in Simon’s lap, Johnny’s shirt had disappeared, his jeans still on but unbuckled and Simon was fishing his erection out. 

"Ignore ‘em." Price chuckled down to you, physically redirecting your attention by giving your clit a bit of attention as he eased himself slowly in, all the way to his base, "Y’feel even better than you taste, sweet thing, y’know that?" 

You didn’t know that, but you’d take the compliment, if you remembered it, or your own name by the end of… whatever this was. He gave one slow and steady thrust, almost like an experiment, one hand holding your hips in place, the other holding his cigar up to his lips. 

"Dessert before dinner, how about that, lads?" 

There was a moment of recall to his earlier words, "Already had something else in mind for dessert" echoed with what he just said in your fuzzy mind. You had been dessert all along, and judging by the ravenous eyes with varying degrees of satiation,  the 141 intended to eat their fill, your online look-a-like was simply a taste test. A momentary taste of vindication on your tongue- you hadn’t been reading too far into things or fluffing your own ego, this was premeditated, and your matching set wasn’t presumptuous. Still, that only lasted a singular breath, the smug vindication was phsycially forced out of you with a rough snap of his hips, the first of many from the demanding, almost brutal, pace John set for himself. 

"There’s a girl, you just take it for me," He grunted between thrusts, seemingly pleased with your little cries and moans, "Just like that, sweet, you’ll be taking Simon’s cock in no time."  

John Price’s couch was not picked out with ‘being bent over the side’ in mind. Or perhaps, you were just a bit softer than the other’s that had had the pleasure of being bent over the arm like John had you at that moment. Taking mercy upon your ribs, or perhaps just for his own selfish purposes, Kyle slotted himself underneath your front and sat you up against his chest, throwing your arms over his shoulders. While John still had your hips over the couch arm, Gaz had pulled you chest up to his, his lips finding your lips, your cheek, jaw, and breasts as he went. 

"Poor sweet thing" Kyle cooed, his perfect pearly teeth nipping at your ear while is chest steadied you against Price’s onslaught that pushed a thought our of your mind with each quick, but deep, thrust, "Didn’t know what you were walking into, did you? And now look at what a mess we made you?" 

You couldn’t tell if Kyle was mocking you or praising you, kind words and little digs were both dipped in that sugary sweet tone that just made you nod up at him with wide eyes and a pouted lip. One of this thumbs reached up and swiped a mascara laden tear out from under your eye, the same thumb dipping into your mouth and holding it open in the pornographic O-shape after Price drew a vulgar moan out with a particularly deep thrust that also managed to scoot the sofa a couple of inches. Gaz didn’t even waver, just laughed a bit as he held you steady, "Mean, innit he?" 

Another moan blocked the chance at a snappy reply, not that you had the current brain power to make one. The sergeant just took the chance to swallow your noises with his mouth over yours, kissing you and biting your bottom lip as he pulled away. With what little fortitude you had, you grabbed the collar of that soft sweater and hauled him right back up to your mouth. It was aggressive kissing. Tongue and teeth and nails, sloppy and  dirty, your noses bumping together from the force of Price’s thrusting. 

When Price adjusted your hips, it forced you onto your tip toes to maintain the angle. And while the new angle provided incentive and reward in the way of relentless pounding of that delicious spongy spot inside you, that fact only made it harder for your already shaking legs to support you. 

"Hold her fast, Sergeant." Was the grunted order as he gave your ass a smack, like he was punishing you for the indiscretion of already having you legs fucked out from under your from the other men in his living room. Honestly, How dare you? Kyle took orders beautifully. The best multitasker on the squad, as he not only, held you at that perfect angle for his Captain, but also, trailed wet, hot kisses down to your chest, locking onto one of your nipples with devious precision, only sucking harder when you cried out. 

" ‘m gonna cum-!" It was strangled and whined into Kyle’s shoulder still fisting the collar of his shirt while your other hand posed serious risk of shredding the upholstery. 

"You gonna cum on me, sweet? Go ahead, but I’m not stopping." Price chuckled through his warning, leaning over your head and pulling Gaz in by the back of his neck for a sloppy kiss of his own. 

"Go on then. Give it to him." Kule urged in that sickly sweet tone, "The captain’s working so hard back there for you, least you could do is let ‘im feel how pretty you fall apart." 

Another moan, a garbled cry of both of their names mashed together when they pushed you over the edge in tandem with a well timed deep thrust and light smack to your clit from Price at the same time that Gaz tweaked both of your nipples.. 

"You feel that Cap? That flutter?" Gaz called, talking (literally) over your head as you sagged, twitching against him, unlatching from the hickey he was sucking into your collarbone, "That’s fuckin’ magic, that is." 

"Flutter? She’s wringing me dry in there." Price groaned, his pace only slowed by the vice like grip your core had as your eyes rolled back, "Sweet’s cunt’s practically swallowing me, bloody hell, greedy thing, aren’t you?"

The only reprieve you had was Price leaning forward so his warm chest pressed to your back, his big hands circling your clit like it might encourage you loosen back up for him so he could resume his movements, "C’mon, love, you gonna answer me?" 

"Yes…" You drawled, flopping your head over so you could meet his eyes over your shoulder, that signature mirthful smile twitching the corners of his beard of as he tweaked the little bundle of nerves to correct you. With a little cry, you answered once more, "Yes, sir." 

"Atta girl." Price nodded approvingly as he took a long draw of his cigar his pinkie shaking off little bits of ash onto your raised posterior (which should’ve made you feel degraded, or maybe it did which is why it made your eyes flutter again), both at the answer and at the relaxing of your muscles allowing him to build his pace back up.  

"Hear that, love?"  Kyle’s attention returned down to you when your face dropped back down into the curve of his shoulder, "what a good pussy, taking us all so well, and she just keeps wanting more." 

"More?" You croaked out through another moan, panting and trying to count the stars dotting your vision, not sure if you were requesting or parroting in disbelief. Though with a clearer mind, you wouldn’t have been so shocked. Price had barely stuttered in getting his rhythm back up to it’s pace, riding you all the way through your orgasm. 

"Told you, ‘m not fucking stopping." Price growled with another smack to the round of your ass. Something between a moan and a cry crawled out of your throat, but tapping our hadn’t once occurred to you. 

"You can take it, love, bet you can even give us another big finish, yeah?" Kyle encouraged. It occurred to you the Gaz had now coaxed you through two orgasms, and really hadn’t even asked for anything in return from you. And while you were sure, between the four of you, someone would throw him a bone(r), you decided to take that cross upon yourself, reaching down between him and yourself and wrapping around his dick. From what you could tell, he was on the leaner side, but he was the longest in the group, slightly curved. Which gave you plenty of room to rub and squeeze, from base to his tip where you thumbed the slit, spreading the precum back down as you followed the vein on the underside. Kyle tried to chuckle through a moan, "Bloody hell, love." 

Jerking off took on a new meaning as your movements, meant to be languid and smooth, turned jerky and choppy with the force of Price’s increasing speed, his rythym stuttering as he chased his own release. Kyle leaned down using one of his free hands to roll a nipple in his fingers, catching the other in his mouth as you continued to pump him. Between the two of them, it didn’t take long to come close to the edge once more, and you didn’t even have time to be proud of bring both of them over with you in tandem as your third orgasm tore through you, leaving all three of you dazed and breathless. You were vaguely aware of Gaz’s cum on you chest, kind of feeling the warm, sticky trail it left as it leaked down your front while John gave a few more lazy strokes as he softened inside of you. Though Gaz twitched hard again just watching your eyes roll back, and when Price was finally done, he gave your thighs a gentle, almost proud squeeze, watching his spend leak out for a moment before gently collecting you upright once more. With a sweet forehead kiss that contrasted so heavily from the cigar ashes and ass slaps, he gave your cheek a little pat, "Still with me, sweet?" 

"Mmmhm." You nodded, eyes only half opned as Gaz sat up behind you and sucked kisses across the back of your shoulders. You’d be wearing turtle necks for weeks. John’s attention shifted over to Simon, who you now realized had been watching the show with the darkest eyes you’d ever seen with poor Johnny taking the brunt of whatever storm Ghost had brewing. Your eyes fluttered watching the liutenant’s hand tighten around Johnny’s throat. Despite the tears on the Scot’s face, he didn’t appear to be too upset with his current predicament, in fact giving you a groan through a watery smile as Simon’s other hand tightened even more around Johnny’s leaking dick. 

"Got it all out of your system, Lieutenant?" Price asked with a raised brow, both him and Gaz still keeping you upright with gently roaming hands. Simon gave both his hands another squeeze making Johnny pant. 

"I’m solid." He nodded, surprisingly tender as he released Johnny, the sergeant stumbling off his lap.  Simon rose behind him, both men approaching the couch. You weren’t positive what ‘it’ was or why it needed to be out of Simon’s system, but Gaz nodded and pressed one last sweet kiss to the curve of you shoulder before letting Simon slide into his place. The largest of the men simply laid down on the couch, taking up most of the three-seater, efficently pulling you backwards so you straddled his lap facing away from him. 

"Nice and slow for me, lovie." Simon directed, lining himself up with your entrance after bumping your clit with his tip. Thank god for his strong hands guiding your hips down at the pace he set. Though Price had thoroughly broken you in, and you’d already partially taken Simon once, you still tensed up nervously but set your jaw with determination to do it again and get all of it from this new angle. With your back to his face, you had a front row set to the others watching hungrily. Kyle was leaning back against Price’s chest, the older man reaching around to palm the sergeant’s erection as Gaz pressed his back to Price’s front, grinding backwards. But Johnny, poor Johnny, with his cock almost purpled by Simon’s earlier teasing, rocking on his heels like he was just waiting for permission to join in, sapphire eyes bouncing between Simon’s face, your face, and the stretch of you pussy around Simon’s cock- like he couldn’t decide who was most jealous of. 

Inch after deliciously painful inch, Simon helped you ease yourself down until your ass was flush with his hips. From this angle, though Simon could still rut up against you, the pace was all your decision, making it harder for him to lose control again. With your hands braced against his tree-trunk thighs. Simon gave you a minute to adjust, to pant and try to focus your eyes. The soldier underneath you grunted, fingers flexing on your waist as he adjusted himself making you whimper and almost fall forward. 

"Si-" Johnny whined, his hands twitching forward like he wanted to help you, or maybe just touch you, his cock leaking down his leg. Simon’s voice was not as gentle to his sergeant, a gruff order. 

"No’ yet."  Before returning his attention to you, voice softening slightly, "Take your time, sweetheart, move when you want, I want you to feel good." 

Giving a jerky nod, you gave an experimental wiggle that nestled him somehow even deeper. Your moan was lodged in your throat as your eyes shut, but the movement earned a deep groan and hiss from Simon. With a deep breath, you managed to move past the acclimation stage so the actual pleasure started building again, which felt like crossing the finish line of a marathon. Next, a roll of your hips that genuinely blurred out your vision, feeling so good that our body instinctively did it again to chase the feeling. And then again, and again- head falling forward and then rolling back. 

"That’s it, lovie, find your rhythm." Simon tried to prain but it sounded more like a growl as his hands flexed again into the softest parts of your waist, his long fingers spanning so far that they kneaded into the plushness of your stomach, "Fuckin' hell." 

"Si-" Johnny whined again, drawing the clipped nickname into two syllables, this time his twitching fingers finding purchase in the arm of the sofa you’d been bent over earlier. If you weren’t so focused on Simon’s cock rearranging your internal organs, you might’ve heard the ominous creak of the fabric under his strength. When your eyes fluttered open, they locked onto Johnny’s bright blues, darkened to a stormy hue with impatient want. His Scottish brogue thickening deeply, "Ah keened you’d be better than the lass in the fuckin’ videos, so fuckin’ sweet and pretty-" 

"Alright." Simon gruffed  before his voice softened down again, "Go on, sweetheart, show the mutt some love, won’t you? He won’t shut up until you do." 

Even though the permission had been given to you, Johnny was immediately upon you. Much like Gaz, Johnny took up the job of supporting your upper body as Simon had your hips firmly in his grasp. With one knee pressed into the couch cushion, he hugged your chest to his, his hands groping and feel any part of you he could get his hands on like it was the first time he’d touched you or any other soft and pretty thing. Unlike Gaz, his mouth on your started out aggressive and when you would moan, he’d mirror the noises, groaning them right back onto your tongue. 

"And soft. Ye sound better too." Johnny groaned when Simon suddenly rutted against your rocking, leaving you crying out and digging your nails into Johnny’s shoulders. With strong but surprisingly gentle grip, your fingers were removed from his shoulders. Johnny led one of your hands in an exploratory trail down his chest, following the path of thick, dark body hair, past his abs, until he wrapped your hand around his cock which twitched even at your slightest touch. 

"So fucking soft, bonnie," he breathed, coaxing your hand into movement while kissing your other palm, before looking over to Simon, "Not a callous on her hands, Lt, dinnae even think about that." 

Simon merely grunted in acknowledgement of Johnny’s discovery, seeing as his focus was an entirely different part of your anatomy. The larger man seemed content letting his sergeant be the vocal one, sometimes rewarding you with a hiss or a strangled groan. He’d given up on letting you control the pace now that you were acclimated and half bouncing against him, rutting and grinding against you in time with your own rolling and rocking as you sped up. It was only natural for your hand on Johnny’s cock to speed up as well. 

"Sweetheart, why don’t you show him something even softer than your hands? He went through a lot for you, after all." He didn’t give you time to ask what that was supposed to mean, but you figured it had something to do the vicious series of bites and hickies on the man’s neck. You could tell Simon was moving because his cock was shifting angle inside of you, making you gasp. One of his large hands splayed against the small of your back, pressing you firmly forward and down. A sudden thrust as he applied pressure to your back made you go boneless, letting the men push your cheek first into Johnny’s stomach and then down to where your hand was still pumping Johnny’s cock. 

"Look at that, a multitasker. ’s why she’s such a good analyst for us." Gaz chided from the sidelines like he was commentating on a sports match, watching as you were stroking Johnny, holding your cheek against him while trying to catch your breath from Simon’s thrusts. Johnny helped guide himself into your mouth. It wasn’t so much length as the girth, even thicker than Price, that stretched your jaw uncomfortably. But the way that Johnny moaned sinfully above you when your nose pressed into the dark curls at his base, the way he all but melted over you like butter, encouraged to breathe through your nose and keep going. 

"Steaming Jesus, Si, I cannae last like this-" Johnny moaned, seemingly not even noticing how loud he was. Simon only laughed lowly, reaching around your thighs to dip between them, circling your clit. Your thighs were trembling, moans getting louder and less restrained, nothing about this was restrained anymore. 

"That’s alright, Johnny, neither will she, will you, lovie?" He asked with another deep thrust, "feel ‘ow she’s shaking?"  

You were shaking your head still with a mouthful of Johnny’s cock, because you weren’t going to last much longer, eyes rolling and fluttering, landing on the arm chair again where Gaz being treated as well, both him and John watching appreciatevly as Ghost and Soap had you in lopsided Eiffel tower. You were pulling out any trick for Johnny that you managed to remember between Simon’s thrusts, swirling tongue and bobbing heads. But what did him in was actually Simon’s doing. When Simon rolled his hips into you just right, hitting every good spot and giving your clit a swipe, your eyes crossed and you moaned, practically screaming around Johnny’s member, the vibrations and look on your face enough to finish him. His hand tightened in your hair, hips snapping, pushing your nose into his pelvis, and holding you there as he came with what some might call a battle cry.  After everything Simon had put him through earlier, he was pent up, leaving him cumming. and cumming, and cumming, until you had to swat at his thigh because you couldn’t take anymore. 

You swallowed what you could, taking a couple more spurts to your face and chest before Johnny crumbled onto the couch against you, kissing the taste of himself right off your tongue as Simon continued his thrusts, getting incrementally faster and harder as you proved you could handle it. The scot took over the praising and encouragement as his superior fell back into the quiet grunting and groaning against you, though you could barely make out any of the words as you approached your fourth finish. For the first time in your life you understood the phrase "fucked stupid". You were somewhat sure you were rambling gibberish accolades to the men, cries of ‘yes’ and ‘please’ and ’thank you’ intermingled with moans and curses that put your over the top XXX twin’s to shame. 

"C’mon, sweetheart, one more f’ me." Simon growled out, switching positions so quickly and effeciently that you didn’t even realize it until you body was pressed face down into the couch cushion, Simon still behind you, drilling into you with a pace that put mechanized machinery to shame. You weren’t even sure how you were taking it just that you were and if he stopped you might start crying, "I know you’re close, just lemme have it-" 

Johnny was back on his knees in front of the couch, catching your nipple in his mouth. And you turned your head towards John and Kyle, locked in their own encounter, and then it just snapped. Your orgasm not just washing over you, but a tidal wave crashing over you and frying every nerve a long the way. For a moment your vision whited out, the only thing you were aware of was Simon’s strokes slowing and working you through it. With your body practically vibrating with overstimulation, you let your unseeing eyes roam to to the cieling fan and let your mind wander as you floated somewhere above reality for a bit, enjoying the electric feelings between each neuron firing. Every noise and sight becoming background information as overstimulation fuzzed it all out except the aftershocks and twinges in your core. 

You weren’t sure how long it was before you came back to yourself, but you heard Johnny’s voice first, "C’mon, bonnie, float back down to us."

"There she is." Kyle cooed in tandem with the other sergeant while your cheek, "Lost you for a bit there. Alright?" 

You were more than alright, body more sated than it’d been in years, still thrumming and twitching with the aftershocks, so you just nodded slowly, trying to focus your eyes in on one thing at a time, voice slightly slurred with nothing to do with the drinks, " ‘m alright." 

"Was worried I broke you." That was Simon, who’s lap your head was in. You only offered a dopey smile and a lazily blink.

"You might’ve, but I’m ok, more than ok." You sighed with a dry laugh, turning your head so your cheek pressed to his thigh, though you noticed he’d slipped his sweats back on. 

"Si’s gotta work on being gentle, we don’t make him practice enough." Johnny teased, running soothing hands along your sides. Suddenly, a cup of water with a straw was placed in front of your face, and when you looked up it was Price holding it down to you before Kyle took it and held it steady for you. 

"Never see you complaining about it, McTavish." John teased right back, trading off the cup so he could smooth hair off your sweaty forehead, "Take as long as you need, sweet, y’did good for us. So good." 

His praise nestled deeply, right between your ribs, making you smile softly as Kyle coaxed the straw into your mouth, letting you sip on the water as he ran a caring thumb over the apple of your cheek.

— 

You must’ve dozed off, because when you woke up, you were still on the couch, but everyone else had moved around you liked you simply always been nestled amongst them. The thought made your lips curl in a dopey grin as you looked around them. Half upright and wrapped in someone’s hoodie, you were laying against Price’s chest, head tipped back into his shoulder as he worked around a plate filled for two, the atmosphere was cozy now, the electric  frantic tension from earlier had morphed into something warm and intimate. 

“Evening. Hungry?” His chest rumbled as he held the plate closer to your field of view. Two very juicy ribeyes, baked potatoes, green vegetable- the stereotypical macho man plate. John seemed all too proud of himself when you opened your mouth to accept a fork of perfectly cut bite-size steak, laughing when you hummed in approval, “There we go, sweet, worked up an appetite, yeah?” 

“Really? Thought we already stuffed ‘er pretty good.” Kyle teased, still gently swiping warm rags over your body, wiping away any evidence that wasn’t etched or sucked semipermanently into your skin, occasionally following his ministrations with gentle kisses and soft praises, “Feel ok, love? Need anything?” 

When you shook your head, gently squeezing his wrist in gratitude, he only smiled, giving you a tender kiss to the forehead before retrieving his own plate and sitting on the opposite side of Price, claiming the captain’s other shoulder for his own head.

Johnny was in the same boat as you, though whatever the hell Simon had done to him made his attention to you look like princess treatment, having obviously reigned himself in with you. Was that what Ghost was getting out of his system before coming back to you? Still, the scot didn’t seem to have many complaints after Simon sat him down between your legs on the couch, letting the sergeant lay facedown against the softest part of your stomach, where he’d nuzzled the hoodie out of the way so he could rest against your bare skin. It was then you noticed that you and Johnny were the only ones still in a state of undress which if your mind wasn’t moving at a snail’s pace, you might’ve tried to read into. 

Like you, he seemed half asleep and fucked out, a couple more bites around his neck that hadn’t been there the last time he’d been touching you. Soap’s mohawk gave you something to gently fidget with as Price nudged another bite against your lips. Simon took his seat on the floor, leaned back against the base of the couch with his head tipped back against the curve of your hip. One of his arms wrapped around the leg that Johnny had dangling off the couch, massaging gentle circles into the mans calf muscle. His other other arm was propped on his knee so he could catch your wrist where it flopped down on his shoulder. He was tender as he ran his ungloved hand over yours, massaging your fingers and comparing them to his much larger hands, murmuring himself, “No callouses.” 

“Told you, Si.” Johnny sighed almost dreamily into your bare stomach, leaning into your fingers in his hair. With the rest of the men doting on you and Johnny, Simon didn’t even retaliate or tease something back, just snickering quietly and fondly, offering straw topped water bottle to the sergeant. 

Another bite of food was offered to you, along with water, and something struck you funny, drawing a quiet chuckle out of you as you turned your face into Price’s neck to stifle the noise. It drew the group’s eyes, clearly waiting for you to divulge. “C’mon, hen, share with the class.” Johnny prompted with grin, always down for a laugh, propping his chin up on your belly so he could look at you through the valley of your cleavage, eyes shining like you’d hung the moon. 

“What’s on that pretty mind of yours?” Price rose his eyebrows, cutting another bite of meat for you. 

“Nothing, it’s dumb.” You snicker a little more, earning a expectant but amiable tug to your fingers from Simon, “It’s just all a little backwards, s’all.” 

“Backwards?” The liutenant parroted in that deep Manc accent, making you giggle a bit more, nodding against Price.

“I let y’all fuck me every which way from Tuesday, and you didn’t even buy me dinner first.”  You mused, ironically before taking another bite of one of the best steaks you’d ever had, which could be an effect of the post-sex endorphin rush, or maybe John was just a grill master. “Our apologies, sweet thing.” John rolled his eyes playfully, his apology deeply sarcastic as he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head. 

“In our defense, dinner and a very nice bottle of wine were on the agenda before, but some people,” Gaz’s eyes flicked over to Johnny and Simon who didn’t even have the decency to look sheepish. Simon was stone faced as usual, still playing with and kissing at your fingers while Johnny just smiled into your belly, “got impatient.” 

“Hey, the first time Simon fucked me all I got was the drink mix and wet nap from his MRE.” Johnny whined which only made you laugh harder. 

“Y’didn’t ask for anything else.” Simon shrugged tilting his head to press an uncharacteristically romantic kiss to the curve of the Scot’s knee. “ ’sides, I got your mouth on her didn’t I? think I made up for it.”  And before you could question if Simon was really the one to orchestrate all of this, Price quieted you with a bite of potato while Gaz leaned over to distract you with his lips on your shoulder, “Don’t worry about it, love.”

  And for the first time since you’d seen their search histories, you weren’t worried about much of anything other than when this might happen again.

 ____ 

me, who doesn’t ever really write smut: yes i will enjoy writing a fivesome with at least ten hands, five mouths, ten arms, and four penises to keep up with. 

Y’all should see the notesapp where I had to like draw out stick figures to see if what I was writing was anatomically possible. I feel like this has gotten me on some kind of watchlist. 

Taglist in Comments because there were too many of y'all!! Thanks to anyone who has commented, liked, and reblogged! Whenever I'm feeling uninspired, I just scroll through y'alls comments and they make me smile so so much!!!

[brawberryz]

Goodbye World

BatFam Yan! × neglected Magic Girl! Reader 《Platonic!》

Note:English is not my first language, sorry if there is any translation error

You were going to die

You were going to die this way, alone and without anyone ever knowing of your existence, what a pathetic way to die

The magic had ended, it was only a matter of minutes before you became a witch you knew that the transformation was going to be painful and in a way you believed that you deserved this fate

You were the one who agreed to become a magical girl it is your fault, if your 14 year old self had known that this was the end maybe she would have rejected you

Now you were here, about to die, with no friends or family who cared about you

Family

You didn't know if you could call them that, they never cared about you they always left you aside and acted as if you didn't exist maybe they only did it unconsciously and they really cared about you, you knew that deep down for all of them you were just a burden and useless, they didn't tell you directly but they made you feel it and you believed that they were right to feel that way

Your mother never He was someone important, a prostitute who was lucky enough to sleep with Bruce Wayne himself, you knew he didn't even consider you a daughter, just a mistake, one of his many mistakes

Your siblings weren't that different from your father either, each one hurt and wounded you in different ways

Richard, the oldest considered himself the best, the oldest brother, he always bragged that he cared so much about his siblings that he would do anything for them

He was good to everyone except you, you wanted to believe that he cared about you but you knew it was a lie, he lies, he always lies and you knew it very well, maybe at that time you were too young to understand some things, but you knew that none of them considered you family

You still remember when he promised to go with you to the zoo, it was 5 years ago when you first arrived at the mansion, but he never kept the promise he was only good to you for the first few weeks then it seemed like he didn't care, he was just being good to you out of courtesy

Jason, you didn't have much to say about him, almost You didn't interact and if you did, he would just insult you and tell you to get out of his way while pushing you. You had heard that he had been revived and that thanks to that he now has that personality. You never got to meet him in person since when you arrived at the mansion he had already died.

You tried to get along with him, but it never worked. You always got an insult or a bad look from him. You never understood why he didn't like you. You never said anything to him. You were always good to him and what you received in return were insults. It wasn't fair.

Although, to be honest, nothing in your miserable life was fair.

Tim, you met him when Bruce brought him to the mansion, he was a year older than you but for the first time you thought you could have a friend your age, how wrong you were

At first he was distant, you thought it was because of his parents' death that he behaved that way, you gave him his space and tried not to be too annoying

But time passed and he simply spent his time ignoring your presence, you didn't understand what you had done to make him ignore you, you were good to him and treated him like a brother, why was everyone so mean to you?

When you tried to talk to him he would just tell you that he was busy or that you were being annoying, you knew that he had a lot of activities for being Red Robin, but deep down in your soul, you longed for him to look at you just for 1 second, to realize that he exists and that you are not just the shadow of the family

Damian, you welcomed him with open arms and gave him your support, you thought that since you were blood brothers you would get along better

But the only thing you received was that his katana almost pierced your head, his arrogant attitude and his enormous ego was something remarkable

He never missed an opportunity to tell you how pathetic you were and that you would never be worthy of being his family, that you were a shame, a disgrace that hammered the Wayne name

In a way he was right, you were never anyone just the bastard daughter of Bruce Wayne

With Barbara, Stehp and Cass you couldn't say much, Barbara was too busy with her affairs that she didn't even pay attention to you even though Sometimes she asked you how you were, but it was too weird

Stehp was neither good nor bad, she never treated you badly but she ignored you in some way, you never managed to talk to her directly, the only interactions you had with her were sidelong glances but nothing more

Cass, you hardly talk to her, but she was one of the few people who knew you existed, she was a person of few words although she seemed a little interested in you, but they never got to have a long conversation, just a few words like greetings or goodbyes

Your thoughts were cut off after hearing a voice, that damn voice...

"Do you have any last wishes, (name)?"

The cat spoke slowly approaching you, he was the one who had proposed you become a magical girl and you foolishly accepted, you thought that you finally had a true purpose that you could protect another like your family did, but you were too immature and stupid to realize the truth

"Yes...yes, I have one last wish."

You could barely speak, you felt like your body was heavy, it was like you had been stabbed in the back by more than 10 knives

"I hear you."

Kyubey looked too calm, and it was normal, they had already seen millions of magical girls die the same way

"I wish...I wish I could say goodbye to my father, please..."

That sounded more like a plea than a wish, in the back of your mind the only thing you wanted was for your dad to hug you, that this was all just a bad dream and tell you that everything was okay, but you knew it wasn't true

In a few seconds your vision went white and you were back in the halls of the mansion, in front of you was Bruce, walking backwards through the halls

You ran as fast as your legs could and when you reached him you gave him a big hug

Bruce He staggered at the sudden hug, he hadn't even noticed your presence or your steps

He turned his gaze and there you were, his daughter, hugging him tightly, as if you were afraid he would disappear

"(Name), is something wrong? I'm too busy to-"

Before he could speak again you quickly separated from him, you moved away a little before giving him a small smile

"I just wanted to hug a little, but anyway it's time to go"

You said as you stepped back a little

Leave? That word repeated itself in Bruce's head, what did you mean by leave? Before he could process everything you said something

"Oh, I almost forgot, take care of yourself okay? I don't like seeing you hurt"

You turned on your heels and then walked in the opposite direction and as you walked away and left a confused Bruce you shouted

"Hey dad! I love you..."

You said as you turned your head and gave him a sincere smile, you felt like tears were about to fall from your eyes

When you finished speaking you walked again and your presence disappeared the further you went down the halls of the mansion

_

That last interaction with you left him thinking, did you mean when you said "leave"? Even if he tried to concentrate on the cases in the Batcave, it was impossible, he needed answers and he knew where he could get them.

He walked through the halls of the mansion again while looking for your room, but he didn't remember it, how could he forget something so important? He's supposed to be your father but he doesn't even remember your age, the last time he saw you you were so little, a scared little girl who clung to his legs

How much had he missed? But this time it was going to be different

There would be room after room but they all looked the same, until he found one in particular, it was small and it was far from all the other main rooms

It was decorated in pink and lots of fluffy stuffed animals, but something was wrong

You weren't there, you were supposed to always spend your time in your room since you preferred to study from home, or that's what Alfred told him, but there was nothing it's like you had disappeared

He quickly went down the stairs, maybe you were in the kitchen

But to his surprise all the family members were there, except you...

"Has anyone seen (name)?"

Bruce said trying to stay calm, he had searched the entire mansion but there was no trace of you

"Why do you ask?"

Richard seemed indifferent to the question, he didn't understand why Bruce was so nervous

"I've been looking for her but she's nowhere to be found"

Bruce held on to the door, for some reason he felt too nervous, the thought that you might have left or that something might have happened to you made his stomach turn in a bad way

"You worry too much, Bruce, she's probably gone"

Jason spoke while leaning back in his chair, if he was honest he never paid much attention to you, he wondered what had happened to make Bruce so hysterical

"You don't understand, she never leaves the mansion"

Bruce decided to raise his voice, he didn't understand why out of nowhere everyone was so indifferent to you, something too hypocritical seeing from him since he was the one who ignored you first

"You worry too much B, I put a GPS on her a while ago, wherever she is I'll find her"

Tim spoke while writing on his phone computer, his confident tone disappeared as soon as he saw something on his laptop

"What's wrong, it seems like you've seen a ghost"

Jason joked looking at Tim

"I...I can't find her"

Tim didn't understand what was happening, it's like you've disappeared from the face of the earth as if nothing

"What do you mean you can't find her?"

Richard spoke now worried looking at Tim, how was it possible that you disappeared the GPS was too well hidden for you to take it out, something was happening and he didn't like it

"I can't find her I'm serious! It's like... like her existence had completely disappeared"

Tim tried to look for some sign of you but there was nothing, it's like you'd never existed

Everyone turned to look, missing? How was that possible, you never left the mansion and now as if nothing happened you disappeared

"Missing?"

Damian repeated angrily but at the same time, how dare you disappear like this? You are supposed to be his older sister, you should stay in the mansion with him, by his side, but you decided to leave like an idiot.

Somewhat hypocritical on his part since most of the time he spent his time saying that you would never be his sister, ironies of life, right?

Something inside them lit up, the thought of someone or something doing something to their sister made their blood boil

They were going to find you and they were going to make the person who took you away from them pay, you would never abandon them, right?

You always cared for them so much and loved them, you would never leave them alone like this, they are your family

It didn't matter if they had to get their hands dirty, they were going to bring you home no matter what, even if it meant having to put their morals aside

How stupid were they, they left you aside for so long and now they want you back?

What a shame that no one told them that they had lost you forever and that you were never coming back, never...

My life if I made my readers insert live a miserable life full of trauma was a sport.

[drafty-castle]

The comments section of this post is, well, very Tumblr. However: @slothorperhapscrow and others who are ‘wait, so he’s a Nazi but not a Nazi but is a Nazi?’ or perhaps just ‘water is wet’ about this, I’d like to give another interpretation.

I don’t think this post was made for those who already hate Elon Musk, who despise him, who have followed the money and the social media fails over years and are already aware of the kind of person he is.

I think this post was for those who still follow him, who still believe in the mask he has created, who have fallen for all the propaganda. I think the point is to hammer home to these people that he isn't who he presents himself to be, he doesn’t believe in what they believe in, no matter what signals - like the salute - he sends out because all he really believes in is his own power. Philip Low is telling the tech bros that Musk is not one of them. Low is telling the republicans who have accepted the propaganda how Musk has historically lied and manipulated his image to get him - personally -the most money, with no thought of those around him, including his friends. Low is telling the bigots and racists and even the actual Nazis in America that they're supporting someone that does not hold to their ideals and is using them to prop up his own personal power base.

I think its possible that post is even for those who are fence-sitters. People who don't like Musk - or don't have enough of an opinion on him - as a person but are willing to continue using his corporate products - using twitter/x, buying Tesla cars, etc. - all actions that continue to funnel money into Musk's pocket.

Functionally, I think this letter to the editor post was trying to break up some of Musk's middle and working class power base - his cult of personality, if you will - by bringing to light the ideological differences between him and many of his followers through symbolic actions such as the Sieg Heil. To highlight Musk's loyalty to no cause other than his own personal power and ego and dispel the idea - through the deliberate use of the Hitler salute - to all Nazi, fascists, and sympathizers that he is "one of them". As well as cut through as much of the "autism" smokescreen that has been thrown up in front of it as possible among those who have been trying to dismiss his actions as "awkward" rather than acknowledge them for the dog-whistle it was.

I don't know Philip Low, never heard of him before and don't plan on looking him up. Personally, I don't think billionaires should exist and that "self-made billionaire" is an oxymoron. That said, the 1% - hells, the 0.01% - live completely different lives than the rest of us. I am completely willing to believe that he has insight into Elon Musk's past dealings and personal interactions amongst fellow billionaires that the general public would have no way of having access to. I am also willing to accept that such a billionaire can look at what has been going on in the last few weeks - or few years - and lay out an analysis of Musk's actions and motivations that strip away all the flash and glamor to show the pathetic, if incredibly dangerous, man Elon Musk actually is.

[lanf1an]

DREAMS lando norris pt.2 When your childhood bestfriend Flo had convinced you to get the fashion design job at her brother's company Quadrant, it finally paid off when Louis Vuitton was announced as the new sponsor for F1.

pt.1 wordcount: 1248

The Louis Vuitton event was everything it was supposed to be—elegant, high-profile, filled with models, designers, and A-list athletes. You had been to fashion events before, but this was different. The merging of fashion and motorsport brought a unique energy, an almost surreal overlap of two worlds you hadn’t expected to be a part of at the same time.

You kept yourself busy, moving between conversations with your colleagues at Louis Vuitton, small talk, strategic networking, and answering questions about the collection. Lando had been doing his own thing—flashing smiles for the cameras, entertaining sponsors, talking to reporters, and a rotation of beautiful women.

You didn’t interact much throughout the night. Still, you were aware of him, it was impossible not to be in the suit you styled him in. You knew you had done a good job.

Until you heard your name.

The interviewer was smiling, microphone angled toward Lando as cameras recorded. 

"Yeah, the partnership with Louis Vuitton is great. But not only that, this outfit is styled by my sister’s best friend, which makes it extra special," Lando said smoothly, the perfect PR-trained answer. "Means a lot to me to be working together—first at Quadrant and now here at Louis Vuitton."

You stilled.

It wasn’t just what he said—it was how he said it. Like it was some full-circle, sentimental thing. Like he had ever said something like that to you before. As if you had actually personally worked together at Quadrant. It annoyed you, making your professional work sound like something personal and intimate, reserved for him, as if you hadn’t styled some of the other drivers with the same attention.

You turned away, ignoring the weird mix of irritation and something heavier sitting in your chest. You weren’t going to let it get to you.

And you hadn’t planned on saying anything.

But when the event was wrapping up and you were back at the hotel, by some cruel twist of fate, you ended up in the elevator together. Just the two of you, the hum of the lift filling the silence as the doors slid shut.

Lando leaned back against the mirrored wall, hands in his pockets, looking unbothered as ever. You had to say something. 

"What was that all about?" you asked, breaking the silence.

He glanced at you, feigning innocence. "What are you talking about?"

You gave him a look. "That perfect little PR answer."

He smirked slightly. "Thought you’d appreciate the shoutout."

You folded your arms, unimpressed. "You’ve never said anything like that to me before."

"Didn’t know you wanted me to, the media has given you enough attention." he shot back, tilting his head.

You huffed a laugh, shaking your head. "Right, cause that’s all I care about."

Lando turned, arms folding over his chest. "What’s the problem? It was a nice answer."

"That’s not the point."

"Then what is?"

You didn’t have an immediate response, which only made his smirk widen.

The elevator doors slid open, and before you could walk out, his voice stopped you.

"Anyway," he drawled, walking towards the door. "Thanks for the nice outfit, it was great, should’ve asked you to style me sooner.’’ he stretched his arms above his head, yawning.  ‘’Can’t wait to take it off though. Looking good is exhausting, sweet dreams stylist" 

You rolled your eyes without a response, walking to your room annoyed that it had gotten to you.

-

The second night of the Louis Vuitton x F1 launch was in full swing, luxury and motorsport merging under glittering lights. You kept to your side of the event, mingling with the LV team and ensuring the drivers looked sharp.

You barely interacted with Lando after yesterday, just the occasional glance across the room to admire the suit you had picked out for him tonight.

Then, as if sensing your thoughts, your phone buzzed.

Lando: Where are you?

You frowned, typing back.

You: At the event, obviously.

Lando: Need you. Now.

Your heartbeat kicked up. You glanced around, trying to spot him, but he wasn’t in sight.

You: What? Why?

No response.

Then another buzz.

Lando: Toilets. Back hallway. Please.

Your stomach twisted. Without thinking too much, you slipped away from the crowd, making your way toward the hallway. You pushed open the door to the private restroom area, and there he was—leaning against the sink, looking both frustrated and amused.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, shutting the door behind you.

Lando exhaled sharply, tugging at the waistband of his pants. “Zipper broke.”

You stared at him. “Are you serious?”

“No, I’m making it up for fun,” he deadpanned. “Yes, I’m serious.”

Your eyes narrowed, stepping closer. “A Louis Vuitton zipper doesn’t just break.”

Lando hesitated. Just for a second.

It was quick, but you caught it. And suddenly, the situation felt… off.

You crossed your arms. “What exactly were you doing before this broke?”

Lando’s expression didn’t change, but you knew him well enough to catch the shift—the slight smirk, the too-casual way he leaned back.

“Are you implying something?” he asked, voice teasing.

You raised a brow. “I don’t know. Am I?”

His grin widened, but he didn’t answer.

Your stomach twisted, an irrational frustration bubbling up. Why did you care? It wasn’t your business what—or who—he was doing before this event. But the thought of him slipping away with someone, being careless enough to mess up his suit right before stepping out onto the carpet, annoyed you more than it should have.

“Forget it,” you muttered, stepping closer. “Just—hold still.”

Lando’s smirk lingered, but he obeyed, shifting just enough to give you better access.

You knelt down, fingers adjusting the fabric quickly. The problem itself wasn’t as bad as he made it sound—it was a minor snag, nothing you couldn’t handle. But the proximity was dangerous. Your fingers moved with careful precision, but it was impossible not to graze the warm skin beneath the waistband. You could feel the way Lando barely shifted, his breath steady but controlled, like he was making an effort not to react.

“Not bad at this, are you?” Lando murmured, voice lower than before.

You didn’t respond. You just focused, ignoring the way his muscles tensed when your fingers brushed against him.

Finally, with one last tug, you straightened. “There. Fixed.” 

Lando glanced down, then back up at you. Neither of you moved.

The air shifted.

And then, before you could think too hard about it, he leaned in.

His lips met yours, firm and insistent. It was messy, rushed, like neither of you had planned for this but couldn’t stop it either. You barely had time to react before you were kissing him back. His hand slid to the small of your back, pressing you into him like he was afraid you’d slip away if he didn’t hold on.

Then, as suddenly as it started, you pulled back.

Breathless.

Lando exhaled, eyes flickering over your face, searching. “Well,” he murmured. “That’s one way to handle a wardrobe malfunction.”

You stared at him, your own breath unsteady.

What the hell just happened?

WN: Hope you guys like it! Let me know!

tl: @freyathehuntress

[allaboutynn]

THE SPARK BETWEEN US

💐 synopsis — it was good being the maknae of aespa, they always treated you like their younger sister, well Except one member who definitely thinks of you more than that.

⚠️ warnings: Urm idk why I wrote this in first persons POV but never trying that again :/, 5th member reader, avoiding

💬 Rin: first actual attempt at writing something that’s fic related, yay(?) came up to the decision of making this blog my writing fics blogs and created another for reading and interactions!

☀︎︎☁︎︎ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓 ꆭ ᷎ ࣪ 🎀ᩖ ࣪ ۪ ̃ ✿

As I spent more time with the members of aespa, I couldn't help but feel a sense of belonging. They were all so kind and welcoming, always making sure I felt included and comfortable. Karina would often give me advice on fashion and beauty, while Giselle would share stories about her love of food and cooking. Ningning would tease me playfully, but always made sure I knew she was just joking.

But there was one member who treated me differently. Winter would often find excuses to sit next to me, or to touch my arm while we were talking. She would look at me with a gaze that was almost... intense. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but I knew that Winter saw me in a different light.

At first, I tried to brush it off as mere friendliness. But as time went on, I began to realize that Winter's feelings for me went far beyond friendship. She would make subtle comments, or find ways to be close to me, even when it wasn't necessary.

I have to admit, it was a little intimidating at first. But as I got to know Winter better, I realized that she was genuinely kind and caring. She would do anything to protect me, and make sure I was happy.

And as I looked into her eyes, I couldn't help but wonder... did I feel the same way?

As I pondered my feelings, Winter's gaze seemed to hold mine for a bit longer than usual. I felt a flutter in my chest, and my heart skipped a beat. I quickly looked away, trying to brush off the sensation.

But Winter's eyes seemed to follow me, and I could sense her gaze on me even when I wasn't looking. It was as if she was trying to will me to look back at her, to acknowledge the unspoken tension between us.

I tried to focus on the conversation around me, but my mind kept wandering back to Winter. I couldn't help but wonder what it would be like if we were more than just friends.

As the evening drew to a close, Winter walked me home, her arm brushing against mine. The touch sent shivers down my spine, and I felt my heart racing in my chest.

As we stood outside my door, Winter turned to me and smiled. "Thanks for tonight," she said, her voice low and husky. "I had a really great time."

I smiled back, feeling a sense of nervousness. "I had a great time too," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.

Winter's eyes locked onto mine, and for a moment, I thought she was going to kiss me. But then she seemed to hesitate, and instead, she leaned in and whispered, "Goodnight."

As I watched her walk away, I couldn't help but feel a sense of disappointment. But at the same time, I knew that Winter's feelings for me were real, and that she was willing to take things slow.

I smiled to myself, feeling a sense of hope. Maybe, just maybe, Winter and I could explore something more than friendship. And as I drifted off to sleep, I couldn't help but wonder what the future held for us.

The next day, I couldn't shake off the feeling that something had shifted between Winter and me. We had always been close, but the way she had looked at me the night before, the way she had whispered "goodnight" in my ear... it all felt so intimate, so personal.

As I went about my day, I found myself wondering what Winter was doing, whether she was thinking about me too. I felt a little silly, to be honest - I had never really considered Winter in a romantic way before, but now I couldn't seem to get her out of my head.

It wasn't until we met up for practice that afternoon that I saw Winter again. She smiled at me as I walked in, and I felt my heart skip a beat. We exchanged a few pleasantries, but I could sense a newfound tension between us, a sense of awareness that hadn't been there before.

As we began to practice, I found myself stealing glances at Winter, watching the way she moved with such precision and control. She was always so focused, so dedicated to her craft - and yet, when she caught my eye, I saw a flicker of something else there, something softer and more vulnerable.

I felt a pang of curiosity, and before I knew it, I was wondering what it would be like to kiss her, to hold her close and see where things might go. The thought sent a shiver down my spine, and I quickly looked away, trying to compose myself.

But as the practice drew to a close, Winter caught up to me, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Hey, what's wrong?" she asked, her voice low and teasing. "You seem a little distracted."

I felt my face heat up, and I looked away, trying to play it cool. "I'm just tired, that's all," I said, trying to brush it off.

But Winter just laughed, her eyes glinting with mischief. "I don't think that's it," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I think you're just avoiding me."

I felt my heart skip a beat, and I turned to her, my eyes locking onto hers. "Why would I be avoiding you?" I asked, trying to sound casual.

Winter just smiled, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "I think you know why," she said, her voice low and husky. And with that, she turned and walked away, leaving me feeling stunned and confused.

As Winter walked away, I felt a pang of curiosity. What had she meant by that comment? Was she really suggesting that I was avoiding her, or was she just trying to get a rise out of me?

I decided to follow her, to see if I could get some answers. I caught up to her in the hallway, where she was waiting for the elevator.

"Hey," I said, trying to sound casual. "What did you mean back there?"

Winter turned to me, a sly smile spreading across her face. "I think you know exactly what I meant," she said, her eyes glinting with amusement.

I felt a flutter in my chest as I met her gaze. There was something in her eyes, something that made me feel like she could see right through me.

"I'm not sure I do," I said, trying to play it cool.

Winter laughed, a low, throaty sound. "Don't play dumb," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I know you feel it too."

I felt a shiver run down my spine as she stepped closer to me. "Feel what?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Winter's eyes locked onto mine, and for a moment, I thought she was going to kiss me. "You know exactly what I'm talking about," she said, her voice husky with emotion.

And with that, the elevator doors opened, and Winter stepped inside, leaving me standing there, feeling stunned and confused.

For the next few days, I made a conscious effort to avoid Winter. I would take the stairs instead of the elevator, just so I wouldn't run into her. I would sit in a different part of the cafeteria during meals, and I would arrive early to practice so I could warm up before she arrived.

It wasn't that I didn't want to see her - it was just that I needed some time to think. I needed to process my feelings, to figure out what was going on between us. And I couldn't do that with Winter around, being her usual charming and persuasive self.

But as the days went by, I started to feel a little guilty. I was avoiding Winter, and I knew she had noticed. I could sense her eyes on me during practice, could feel her watching me even when I wasn't looking.

And then, one day, Winter decided to confront me. We were at practice, and I was sitting on the sidelines, taking a break. Winter walked over to me, her eyes fixed intently on mine.

"Hey," she said, her voice low and serious. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

I nodded, feeling a sense of trepidation. I knew what was coming.

Winter sat down beside me, her eyes never leaving mine. "I've noticed you've been avoiding me," she said, her voice gentle but firm. "And I want to know why."

I shrugged, trying to play it cool. "I don't know what you're talking about," I said, trying to sound nonchalant.

Winter raised an eyebrow. "Don't lie to me," she said, her voice firm but gentle. "I know you've been avoiding me. And I want to know why."

I sighed, feeling a sense of resignation. I knew I couldn't avoid this conversation forever.

"Fine," I said, looking down at my feet. "I've been avoiding you because...because I don't know how to feel around you. Okay?"

Winter was silent for a moment, and I could sense her processing my words.

"Because of what I said the other day?" she asked, her voice soft and gentle.

I nodded, feeling a sense of relief. "Yeah. Because of that."

Winter nodded, her eyes never leaving mine. "I see," she said, her voice thoughtful. "Well, can I ask you something?"

I nodded, feeling a sense of trepidation.

"Do you feel the same way?" Winter asked, her voice soft and gentle.

I felt my heart skip a beat as I met her gaze. Did I feel the same way? I wasn't sure. But as I looked into Winter's eyes, I knew that I couldn't deny the spark that had ignited between us.

I hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to respond. Winter's eyes seemed to bore into mine, as if searching for the truth. I felt a flutter in my chest, and my heart began to beat faster.

"I...I don't know," I stammered, trying to sound nonchalant despite the turmoil inside me.

Winter's expression didn't change, but I sensed a flicker of disappointment. "Okay," she said softly, her voice tinged with a hint of sadness. "I understand."

But I could tell she didn't understand. Not really. And I couldn't blame her. I was confused myself.

Winter stood up, her movements fluid and effortless. "I'll leave you alone for now," she said, her eyes still fixed on mine. "But can I ask you one more thing?"

I nodded, feeling a sense of trepidation.

"Will you at least think about it?" Winter asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "Think about how you feel, and what you want?"

I nodded again, feeling a sense of resolve. "I'll think about it," I promised, my voice firm.

Winter smiled softly, and for a moment, I thought I saw a glimmer of hope in her eyes. "Good," she said, her voice gentle. "I'll be waiting."

And with that, she turned and walked away, leaving me feeling more confused and uncertain than ever. But also, somehow, more hopeful.

I watched Winter walk away, feeling a sense of relief wash over me. I was glad that the conversation was over, but at the same time, I couldn't shake the feeling that I had just made things more complicated.

As I sat there, trying to process my emotions, I couldn't help but think about Winter's words. "Will you at least think about it?" she had asked, her eyes pleading with me to consider my feelings.

And I had promised her that I would. But as I sat there, I realized that I had no idea where to start. I had never really thought about my feelings for Winter before. I had always just assumed that we were friends, and that was it.

But now, I wasn't so sure. Winter's confession had thrown everything off balance, and I was left feeling confused and uncertain.

I decided to take a walk, hoping that some fresh air would clear my head. As I strolled through the streets, I couldn't help but think about Winter. I thought about the way she smiled, the way she laughed, and the way she always knew how to make me feel better.

And as I walked, I started to realize that my feelings for Winter went far beyond friendship. I felt a flutter in my chest, and my heart began to beat faster. I couldn't believe it. I had feelings for Winter.

But what did it mean? And what was I supposed to do now? I felt like I was standing at a crossroads, unsure of which path to take. But as I looked up at the sky, I knew that I had to be honest with myself. I had to acknowledge my feelings, no matter how scary it seemed.

And with that, I made a decision. I would talk to Winter again, and I would tell her how I really felt. I was nervous, but I knew it was the right thing to do.

I took a deep breath and made my way to Winter's room, my heart racing with anticipation. I had been thinking about our previous conversation nonstop, and I knew I had to talk to her again.

As I knocked on the door, Winter answered with a curious expression. "Hey, what's up?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with interest.

I smiled, feeling a sense of nervous excitement. "I wanted to talk to you about what you said the other day," I began, my voice barely above a whisper.

Winter's expression softened, and she nodded encouragingly. "I've been thinking about it a lot too," she said, her voice gentle.

I took another deep breath, feeling my heart pound in my chest. "I have to admit, I was surprised at first," I said, my eyes locking onto Winter's. "But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I feel the same way."

Winter's face lit up with a radiant smile, and she took a step closer to me. "Really?" she asked, her voice trembling with excitement.

I nodded, feeling my heart soar. "Really," I replied, my voice firm.

Winter's eyes sparkled with joy, and she reached out to take my hand. "I'm so glad," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

As our hands touched, I felt a jolt of electricity run through my body. It was like the whole world had come alive, and everything felt new and exciting. I smiled up at Winter, feeling my heart full of joy and anticipation.

As Winter's eyes sparkled with joy, I felt my heart skip a beat. We stood there for a moment, hands touching, and I knew that everything was going to be okay.

Winter smiled and leaned in close. "I'm so glad you feel the same way," she whispered, her breath tickling my ear.

I nodded, my heart racing with excitement. "Me too," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.

As we stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together. And I couldn't wait to see what the future held for us.

✰𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐀

[pan-demic69]

Did anyone else notice the fact that Doey is made up of 3 different kids is foreshadowed IN THE COMMERCIAL?

It clearly shows three different Doeys and each of them match the descriptions of each of them we see in the files

Matthew Hallard is most likely the tallest one because in his files, it said he was 15 and was often kind and a mentor figure to the rest of the children in the facility and the photo depicts this Doey holding on to the 2 younger ones to reflect that

Kevin Barnes is likely the bottom left Doey due to the manner in which he's interacting with the other 2 Doeys. This one shows disgust at being around the other 2. Kevin's file states that he was prone to getting into fights and had issues with the other kids often but was picked to become Doey due to his physical prowess.

The final Doey on the bottom right is most likely to be Jack Ayers. This Doey seems to have a child-like personality and is a lot shorter than the other 2. As we see in the intro, Jack may be around maybe 6-7 at the time of him going to the factory. The fact that he later falls into a vat of dough also supports this theory

I love this foreshadowing because of how clear it is to tell that there's 3 Doeys from the beginning and this picture perfectly reflects how we see Doey during his boss fight. Matthew, the oldest, feeling guilty for not saving those under his care, is shown taking care of two younger children who have also become part of Doey. Kevin, who screamed that all that everyone did was hurt and is clearly shown to be the most aggressive of the 3, is shown with disgust at being around his counterparts. Jack, who shouted for his parents before Doey's demise is shown acting childish with the other two, showcasing how young he was when he fell into the dough.

It's crazy how much thought has been put into this chapter

[deanssun]

✧ dean winchester x party girl!reader | minors do not interact

when dean spots his ex, it was likely to

end in a fight, but instead they let out their

pent up emotions in a different way..

! mentions of drugs. alcohol. sex. fucking in the bathroom. dean cums inside !wrap it up y'all!. exes to lovers (once again).

dean winchester and his ex, you, were toxic–highschool sweethearts which in all honesty hated each other. still you both kept crawling back to one another. it wasn't until you found out about deans hunting, and he found out about the parties you threw. you were just a girl–who was he to judge? you broke it off for good and you never saw each other again.

until years later while at the club, here he was at the bar, drowning himself in his sorrows.

his eyes trailing over various womens figures, eventually landing on yours. a tight dress that hugged your curves just right, perfect hair that he'd love to pull, and glossy lips.

all the feelings he had pushed down came back up–anger, annoyance, but worst of all jealously. he was jealous that you were still living your life.

and that other men had got to touch what was his, once his.

deans mind trailed off, unbeknownst to his legs carrying him off towards you. his hand coming to rest on your waist, the thin fabric doing nothing but igniting a fire beneath his touch. you whipped your head around so fast it almost hit against his.

“dean!? what're you doing here, and especially around me?” you questioned him quickly, voice slurred and a lingering smell of weed clung to your form.

you couldn't help the warmth that begun in your core as you got a better look at his face. the bright lights of the dance floor highlighting his features.

he had aged well, and it wasn't helping with the arousal that pooled in your panties at his presence. he still had such power over you, that's why when you both were young, you couldn't help but crawl back to him.

the smell of leather and whiskey overpowered anything else around you, all you could think about was just him. but you didn’t let that stop you from arguing.

"you think that you can just walst back into my life, pull me close and expect me to start sucking you off!” exclaiming loudly, facing him with a headstrong stare, a pout etched onto your lips and your hands snug on your hips.

“oh no, kitty, i don't–” dean smirked, one that made your knees weak.

your cheeks warmed as he called you your nickname from highschool. watching and letting him pull you even closer, dress riding up which allowed you to feel his denim-clad bulge. you bit your bottom lip at the sensation.

your friend, who'd been the one to get you to break up with dean in the first place walked by you with a wink. swiftly handing you a joint and patting your ass. you looked towards her in confusion, not that it lasted long because dean was dragging you by your waist into the bathroom.

it was small and cramped yet you both found a way to make it work. his thick cock was pumping in and out of you. your legs were locked around his waist, back pressed against the door which rattled with each thrust.

“i bet you wanted me to see you, fuckin’ slut. i know you missed this–missed my dick filling you, ruining you for any other man.” dean rasped, groans leaving his saliva covered lips.

your pussy clenched at his degrading words, mewls and whimpers spewing out from you. it was dirty, so dirty and you both didn't care to mind.

not when his cock was hitting that sweet spot each time, the tip lightly grazing your cervix. your hips bucked up towards his calloused fingers that ghosted over your clit, touching once-in-awhile.

“dean, dean, dean!” you moaned his name like a prayer, but he was no god. he was as man, your ex, fucking you like a whore in the bathroom of some dingy club. and you liked it, you'd really missed him.

your hands tousled with his hair, grasping onto it. sweat causing the strands near his face to stick to his forehead.

your actions caused dean to let out noises of his own, his head falling in between your breasts. harsh breaths fall from his plump lips. he growled, nipping and sucking at the sweat covered skin, leaving marks in his wake.

the feeling of his dick slipping in and out of your tight, wet walls was all that you could think about, bringing you closer to the edge.

when he knew you were close, he finally began to rub your clit. giving rough attention to the pearl. his fingers applied just the right amount of pressure.

you were dripping, soaking his cock. the air was thick and the smell of sex clung to the both of you. anyone walking by could immediately tell what was happening in the room. the sound of his balls slapping harshly against your ass and the slick sound of his dick inside you was loud and rung in your ears. your bodies stuck together, bound by the feeling of pleasure.

your body shuddered and your hands grasped onto his forearms. the muscle flexed beneath your touch. you screamed his name as you came, your body limping against the door.

deans hands gripped onto your ass to hold you up. his dick still unrelenting, fucking you hard and fast. even as you came down from your high, he never slowed. moans continued to fall from your lips, though more breathy and quiet.

dean came inside you with a low groan, his warm sticky seed filling you up. the white substance stuck to your inner walls, proof of his claim over you.

“you're so good f'me, baby. taking my dick so well–” he whispered into your ear, his fingers tracing patterns on your bottom.

he caged you in his hold, his mouth working magic on your neck. leaving little hickeys so everyone would you were his, once again.

dean pulled out, little whines fell from you at the loss of contact and warmth. he quickly pulled your panties back over your cunt. trapping his seed inside you.

you attemted to fix your hair and makeup, mascara dripped down your cheeks and your lipstick was smudged. you felt a smack on your ass, and a kiss on the cheek as dean opened the bathroom door.

“have fun cleaning up, sweetheart, and when you wanna leave–come find your daddy, yea?” he teased with a wink, which in response to you rolled your eyes.

watching his form leave and head back to the bar. his hair was a mess and he was glistening with sweat.

but he was still so handsome to you. your heart fluttered with the love you once felt for him as it trickled into your being.

and now you knew that you can't stay away from dean winchester forever.

sunny yaps! HII MY ANGELSS!! I decides to just write something for party girl!reader. I KNOW IT DOESNT REALLY DIVE INTO HER CHARACTER BUT I WANT DEAN WINCHESTER SOOOO BAD RN!! I do NOT write smut good so comments would be appreciated if you find this enjoyable!! I didn't mean to write a lot just a little drabble but ykkk....HEHE ANYWAYSS!! I LOVE YOU ALLLLL, KISSES TO UUUU !!

[the-ghost-of-jason-todd]

Interesting that you bring that up, because I think it ties into a different Jason post I made once. You don't have to read all of that, the important part is this:

i think thats my favorite thing about the red hood. he pulls people out of the abyss. he never steps entirely out of the shadows himself, but he will extend a hand to someone else, until they can get their own grip and climb past him. he did it with roy and kori, and with the random pyg minion in batman reborn, and with duela dent, and suzie su, and bunker, and ma gunn, and in a way even his own father. he does it all the time, and i love him for that.

That post is in regards to the (eventual) conclusion to the Duela Dent arc, where Jason helps her unjokerfy and go back home. Because it really is a theme we see! I don't think DC did it intentionally, especially since half of these happened during Scott Lobdell's runs and I don't think the man did anything except throw spaghetti at a wall in the hopes that it would stick, but it's become a theme. (....Scott Lobdell also had the Generation Outlaw storyline that he didn't fucking land or conclude in any satisfying way, but that's a rant for a different day).

Anyway, the point is that yeah, in some ways Jason DOES still have to choose. A lot of the storylines he has are with people who do, eventually, decide to be less morally gray. And that's just something he doesn't do. Or, if he somehow did, if he TRULY came back into the light, he would ABSOLUTELY lose the ideological purity that drove him in the UTRH era. I'm not saying it's not possible for someone to stay with him in his moral gray zone or even in his True Villain Zone, but there is actually an interesting tragedy in the fact that no one does, because it kind of highlights the point of his character--which is that he KNOWS BOTH SIDES and he CHOOSES to stay somewhere between them. He wavers sometimes in canon, moves more toward one side or the other, but so far he always returns to that gray zone, consistently, every single time.

Comics are, in a lot of ways, black and white. Questions of morality are almost always framed in what is right and what is wrong. Characters are good or bad. Things are mutually exclusive. I don't think it's impossible to find the balance, but IMO it would be much trickier to make it work, especially in canon. To find that balance and make it truly compelling would need some significant skill. We would need someone who was truly okay to live in that gray zone, but whose values wouldn't turn out to be incompatible (which is often, I think, why he and Rose don't usually work out when they're put together. Rose WOULD be that character, but I just don't think they're sustainable, generally speaking).

With that in mind, I can see why it's usually the Batfam that he returns to in search of family. He doesn't want things that are fleeting. He doesn't want "well, we can put Joker in Arkham until his next breakout", he wants the Joker DEAD. And he really doesn't want the people in his life to give up on him!! He WANTS both. NEEDS it, maybe. Even as far back as UTRH we saw this tension. Jason is holding VERY tightly to his ideals in that comic, and still he all but begs Bruce to join him so that he can have both. His origins will always be most deeply rooted in the Batfam. But maybe that brings a different sort of tension to the question--one having to do with whether a fan wants Jason to keep hold of his history, his roots, and find the permanence that Bruce promised when he took Jason in... or if they want him to give that up and forge a new future with a new family.

Jason really is, IMO, about tension. Not just in the conflict sense, though he does tend to bring tension and conflict to interactions. But thematically, his character and his arcs are filled with themes that constantly pull him in opposing directions. Even the dichotomy of the poverty he faced as a child versus the abundance of living with a millionaire is like that. In a lot of ways, canon tells us that he really just can't have everything he wants. So the question is... what does he have to give up?

i’m starting to realize there are at least two camps of jason todd fans. 

there are the ideological campers, who took under the red hood and ran with it.  the ones who believe whole-heartedly that jason todd is a character with a moral stance–counter, perhaps, to the man who raised him and the monsters that shaped him, but extant, all the same.  these people see jason shucking his ideals in canon and scoff, saying that it is a loss of integrity and a tragedy of what was good characterization. 

and then there are the emotional campers.  the ones who saw jason todd’s pain, his desire for a family who loved him enough to act as executioner.  it wasn’t an ideological purity that drove him–it was the emotional one, the familial one, and these people see jason struggling to mend bridges once burned and cheer him onward.  the ones who desperately want to see him shed his lone wolf persona and really, truly, become a part of the family.

in some sense, it ends up being a question of how faithful to the original characterization you want to be.  when jason is the villain and often when he’s the outlaw, he is antithetical to batman by nature.  he grips his pain and grief in his hands and uses it to act, same as batman, but in a diametrically opposed way.  in order to hang onto this, to keep this opposition in place, he cannot have his family.  but in order to have his family, to change from what he once became, he cannot have his ideals.

and i think it’s neat, because both of these camps want jay to succeed, you know?  but the question lies in whether they want that success to be in ‘cleansing gotham’/‘ridding the world of that which hurt him so no one else can be hurt’, so that he might save the world…

…or if they want it to be just him, reaching out a hand to someone and asking to be lifted up, so that he might save himself.

[colorlessjay]

hello! may be a weird request but do you have any fanfic recommendations?

BUCKLE THE FUCK UP

OH DO I HAVE SOME RECS FOR YA'LL

Mind you, 90% are based on personal preference and fics I think about way too often than I should. A lot of them influenced the way I make characters interact

Some of them might not be your taste and that's cool!

First off, Gotta promote the fics that people wrote inspired by my art (I am truly honored)

Time Cast A Spell On You by bethefirstwhoeverdid

Cabin of Feathers by Featherpie (Izupie)

Return To The Past by faeryn

NOW FOR MY COLLECTION

Just any fic written by everandanon

I swear to you, all of their fics are worth a read. They are frustrating (In a good way for me) but the worldbuilding, comedy, dialogue, and character interactions always have me physically getting up and laughing. At one point during Quarentantion, I had to stop reading to rant to my friends about it because it made me feel so much that I went to 3 different friends about it. With Interest actually made my heart physically hurt at certain points. Expectations had me on a roller coaster ride But if you think their fics are a little overwhelming, I recommend reading Casicorn. It's the first ever fic I read from them and it solidified my love for this author. I swear I am on my hands and KNEES waiting for them to finish their newest fic

Where All My Journeys End - (a Twist and Shout alt universe) by Say_It_In_Enochian

Did reading Twist and Shout devastate you? Did it emotionally hurt your heart and make you wish there was something to make the pain lighter? READ THIS FUCKING FIC NOW I got so fucking lucky when I found it immediately after reading T&S and when I tell you the JOURNEY this fic took me? It healed my soul The struggles, the history, the relationships, the LONG fight to get to their happy ending I am FLOORED this doesn't have 1000 Kudos!

The Ed Sheeran Effect by tricia_16

It made me laugh. That's it. It's sweet and funny and really fun and just feels very campy, like it could've been a decent movie I would rewatch on days I just feel like feeling good Am I a sucker for HighSchool/College AU fics? Yes do I fucking care? No

The Best Years of Our Lives, My Ass by ireallyhatecornnuts (CharleyFoxtrot)

I. fucking. love. this. fic The story alone was so interesting but it was the DIALOGUE that hooked me in. I swear I think about this fic in the middle of drawing and go "Damn, good times" like it's a long lost friend

Slide Away by Castielslostwings

It's the TENSION that got me. I can't explain to you how much I just love their hate-pining for each other Read it, love it, in my digital bookshelf

Sleep Without You by turningthepages

Hilarious. The density is so high it could float. I swear to god I've read this fic at least three times and think about it once a week I remember reading it and cackling so much that I woke up my mom

Should've Just Asked by Annie D (scaramouche)

I wish this fic had a follow-up that was just Dean's perspective because I would LOVE to read more of it. The situation is so absurd and I binged it all in one day (I'm a very slow reader)

Pinfall by crowleyo

I'm gonna say it. I'm so actually angry this fic doesn't get enough attention. It is so so SO well-written and heart-wrenching. Am I still a sucker for highschool sweethearts? YES! I OPENLY ADMIT THIS! But COME ON

Of fuming and partaking and so on by zation

This fic and literally any fic from Zation. I absolutely love the way this author writes. It's so funny and self-aware and the dialogue and scenarios always keep me entertained and laughing They have such a large catalog of fics that I'm pretty sure I have at least 15 saved on my phone

Mr. Blue Sky by anyrei, queerwolf79

This fic specifically and literally ANYTHING from these two. I swear, a lot of their fics are certified bangers. Mr. Blue Sky is probably a personal favorite of mine cause I actually teared up

Love Me More by Saiorse_Irvyne

I'm not the biggest fan of A/B/O stuff, but MAN this has me feeling things. When a fic makes me feel strong emotions, I just gotta recommend it

Lock and Key by tricia_16

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH it's THAT good

Kind Of A Forever Deal by komodobits

It's FUN. It's FUNNY. It's so fucking campy and cute and the progression of their relationship was just AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

It's Always the End of the World Somewhere by Annie D (scaramouche)

I can sit here and recommend Annie D's fics all DAY, but I'm recommending this one specifically because of this: “Get a room, assholes,” someone mutters. “Hey!” Crowley whirls on the offender. “I could set on you on fire!” And that's one of many fantastic quotes

Cinderwings by bendingsignpost

One of the first fics I've ever read from this fandom, and I recommend it to ANYONE regardless of whether they know Destiel or not. The story is so fucking captivating it makes me want to eat my foot it's so GOOD

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

Do I have a type when it comes to fanfics? Yes

But I like gravitating towards funny dialogue and silly shenanigans. I thrive off of fun fics that sometimes take themselves seriously, but still pull me back and make me laugh

If a fic can make me feel such a strong emotion that I PHYSICALLY have to get up? Then fuck yeah it's going in my archives

I would recommend some of the darker fics I have, but this is for fun

[the-uninformed-zennial]

Okay so I wanna talk about the ecosystem of a fandom space like Fable/Bound SMP and those that extend off of it.

(long post below)

So one of the things that kinda stands out to me is that many of the popular ships are just canon. Like… off the top of my head the only two popular ships that aren’t necessarily canon in Fable are Kaleidoscope (Midas x Malitae) and Prison Duo (Centross x Icarus). But even one of those has been hinted at being canon by Sherbert in a few streams so like???

Looking at this from the outside it’s almost worrying. But the thing is, I think it has to do with three different things that are all unique to the Fable/Mer/Bound (and adjacent) fandom(s) and might actually be the sign of a really warm and welcoming community (as the Fable & adjacent fandoms have always been imo).

Firstly, the medium. If these were not lore-heavy, highly improvisational, live-streamed stories the fandom wouldn’t be able to provide feedback and the creators wouldn’t be able to react to said feedback in time to adjust. Think about Hermitcraft, it’s highly improvisational, yes. But lore-wise it’s not super heavy and thus all ships kinda teeter on the edge of being canon or not canon. Likewise smth like Whitepine where it’s recorded beforehand (and I think scripted??) doesn’t give the creators the flexibility to adjust the content in the same way the fandom is moving as quickly as the fandom moves.

Secondly, the fact that the creators interact with the fandom. Hi, hello, I’m living proof of this cause if I hadn’t gotten picked up by Heyhay and Art I never would’ve gotten to become one of said content creators. But this goes far beyond that. This has to do with the fact that they listen and interact and bounce ideas off of their fan base. Even if it doesn’t always feel like it, the opinions and ideas you guys share out here do influence the story, even if it’s just confirmation that you guys are picking up what the creators are laying down. It still serves as a sounding board to see how well things are coming across, and speaking as a creator myself (albeit a newer one) I find it incredibly helpful.

Thirdly, the size. Obviously if this venn-diagram of fandoms was as large as say Hermitcraft or QSMP the content creators simply wouldn’t be able to keep up with the fandom and many ideas would get lost in the jumble. Even just with how large Fable got at it’s peak, there came a point where it was nearly impossible to keep up with the amount of fan art and theories that were being made. So I think this point kinda feeds back into the second, that having a smaller size helps the content creators keep up with the feedback they receive from their art and lead to the fandom having more influence on the story than anyone really realizes.

These three things work together to create a space where people get to feel heard and seen. One of the most enticing things about being a community member for me was having that ability to influence the story, to talk to the characters themselves, to poke them about things I wanted to know the answer to. And when they responded?? It was so cool! I remember I used to keep a tally of little things in the world that I had affected because of messages that had been sent during live chat. It wasn’t ever anything big, but sometimes it’s the little things that count. That’s why, as a creator now I try really hard to interact with community members. I know I’m obviously not one of the big creators in this space, but I still want to help you guys feel seen and heard, because that’s where so much of the magic of being a part of this fandom space comes from imo. And if I can help recreate what helped me fall in love with this fandom space even a little bit, I’ll do what I can.

Anyway, I’m just super grateful to this community and the fellow creators within it. I have been so lucky to be able to get to experience this fandom from both the community member and creator side and honestly it has just been one of the most overwhelmingly positive experiences of my life, from both sides of the spectrum. I know things like that are fickle. I know fandoms and people are always growing and changing and maybe that won’t always be the case. But I just wanted to say I really appreciate the community that has been built here and all the work that goes into keeping it a positive and safe space. So, thank you guys 💕

[lilbardrhi]

CoD RPer/Creator PSAs/Reminders (EDITED)

Roleplayers/Roleplay Blogs

It has been brought to my attention by a friend that some RP blogs (that I don't recognize the handles for, so I'm asuming they're fresh to the community) have been interacting with other fandom members posts, but not specifying if it's out of character or not.

As a roleplay blog, it is your responsibility to make sure creators are ok with you interacting, in-character, with their content. A lot of content creators have such posted somewhere on their blog whether or not they are ok with in-character interactions. It is your responsibility, as the interactor, to make sure you are specifying if you are interacting in-character or out based on the creator's contnent of which you are attempting to interact with.

Not everyone is ok with our (roleplayers') interactions in-character on their content. That is reansonable and should be respected. PLEASE check a creator's blog for their boundaries PRIOR to interacting with a roleplay blog handle. If you see no mention of rp blog in-character interaction (permission OR denial), please assume that is a NO/Do Not Interact.

I would like to note that no one is "in trouble", we just need to be aware - as a community - that some people in fandoms (not just CoD) don't even want the fan-made content, others just want art or fic, some want to roleplay or interact with the roleplay blogs, etc, but not all fandom members want every side of the fandom.

Creators/Creator Blogs

It is your responsibility to have your boundaries for interacting with your blog posted somewhere that is easily found on your blog. Yes, some would assume "no mention of consent to 'x' interaction listed" would mean "do not interact", but other people do not read a lack of boundary as such, unfortunately. I am hoping that this post, as the rp side of CoD Tumblr is still small, will reach as many roleplay blogs as possible.

I hope everyone is having a beautiful time zone! I will have my own boundaries/blog interactions up soon, but will say here that I am just fine with the roleplay blogs interacting with this blog ( @lilbardrhi ) in character. This statement will be included in my pinned post once I finish it and get it posted/pinned.

Roleplay blogs I have interacted with (in and out of character) or am following (not that y'all are doing this, I just want to make sure this is seen) tags to spread awareness: @ghost-askblog @askthemactav @shadow-5-05 @shadow-2-08 @shadowcompanys-medic-beaks @itsvargen @krueger-acc @brav0six @ask-private-141 @call-sign-songbird @konigisking @justradiospirit @ask-corporaltwins-141 @verytiredmedic @ask-theplaguedahlia @callsign-king @shadow5-7 @captain-after-dark @lieutenant-banks @lusttoke @callsign-trebletrouble @alejandro-ask @el-perro-rabiosa @callsign-kits @price-askblog @b1gm0n3yb1gg3rc4n3 @callsign-cups @ask-alejandro @keegan-askblog @generalshepherd-askblog @gaz-askblog @ask-alex-keller @valera-askblog @ask-roachsanderson @jeanzoriley-cod @ask-gaz @ask-soapmactavish @ask-phillip-graves @johnprice-asks @ask-philgraves @soap-askblog @konig-askbox <- Literally everyone I'm following. If I know you have different blogs for different characters, I only tagged one blog. If I don't know such information, I apologize for the multi-tag. Just trying to keep everyone on the same page. Notice that my tags for this post are not just "cod rp", but also "cod fanfic" and "cod fanart".

We need to work together to make sure boundaries are respected.

Adore you all! The Lil Bard, Rhi (previously backseatsoldier)

P.S. - If you are a minor running a roleplay blog, you have my express permission to reblog this post!!!

[dreamyintersexouppy]

idk what fantasy you're living in that you think speaking to me this way is ok, but it really seems like you're assuming i'm... not an intersex transfem, or at least i don't count cuz i'm one of the Bad Ones. stop talking to me like im ignorant cuz im not. i lived this, my life has been real and my thoughts and personhood is real. if you think im diminishing your trauma just because i said you're not tma you aren't listening. if you think im being reductive when i talk about agab affecting position in transfeminism you have understood too few transfeminist concepts. it's not about "being raised as a boy", cuz i sure wasn't, i was raised as a faggot, and i never got to be a girl. the difference is me being a girl is not aligning with my agab, i have no "im afab" to fall back on to explain why im on e or getting bottom surgery. i don't doubt that you face transmisogyny but you are not who it is for. you literally admit yourself that the small moments where you do get your assignment remembered the transmisogynistic abuse lessens. i never have those moments, i never have escape.

i understand this is a lot of pain to experience intersexism and get hit by elements of transmisogy at the same time, probably because that's what my life consists of. your argument boils down to the same awful argument that people use to discredit tme/tma language and honestly, thank you. thank you for demonstrating exactly the kind of interaction that the concept of an afab transfem is meant to foster. you claim i am speaking Over you, you insult me, degrade me, you call me things i've heard a thousand times and you do it righteously, can't you see you're only trying to silence me not trying to argue. you are not being insulted by being told you are appropriating my life, you're doing it to describe very painful and valid trauma but that doesn't make what you appropriated actually true or especially unharmful to others. if any ounce of you is a transfeminist like your bio says, you wouldn't speak to trans women this way ever again, but somehow i think that's a useless plea, i honestly believe you'll just keep on talking like this, keep misinterpreting transfeminist language and wearing my life as a mask to hide your pain, only ever having the transfeminist solidarity with your own and then screaming at us for being "exclusionists." it's unoriginal, i've seen it all before, and im just so tired of all of you assuming i'm stupid. but hey, getting away with this kind of vocal abuse is what having privilege over transfems lets you do, i wonder how you got that privilege

surgeries and goals does not a tranny make, but i know you've seen a lot of what our lives are made of, the systems that perpetuate transmisogyny. of all people you should know better

ok for the record, the intersex argument for afab transfems is still baseless, when we are coercively or especially forcefully assigned a gender at birth we are subject to the forces of that assignment. it doesn't make me get treated like a cis woman because i had a period, i got treated like a weird "man" with something wrong with me, the same is true for any intersex person, how our conditions may show themselves don't actually change our cagab, which is the thing that matters for our society to identify deviants. we're placed into a category and if we perform that category we get to stay, if we don't we get put in the deviant box and excluded. afabs performing womanhood is EXACTLY what is wanted from them, even if they think they're "biologically male." and that's the crux of it really, being intersex is a biological condition, and because transness and gender is defined socially by our systems privileging certain genders and forceful reinforcement of the binary, it has very little to do with biology (ex why the trump order has bad biology in it, it's not about biology, it's about exterminating a social group not defined by actual biology). the assholes who argue for the case of the intersex afab transfem simply believe that there is something about transfems that can be biological, as in something biologically male. they always bring up theoreticals like "well what if they were assigned female and grew up with a body that went through male puberty" and like... you know what happens right? they get hrt, often forcefully. they are not trans they are being forced to be CIS women, and society won't demonize them for that. no one bats an eye when an afab takes estrogen, no doctor struggles to prescribe it to them, no one gets fanatical about how there's an evil cult giving them estrogen, no one calls them predators or baeddels or pedophiles. like i'm sorry but if you think an intersex argument has any validity you are boiling transness down to something biological, boiling the identities of intersex people down to be centered entirely around our conditions, and treating real trans women like a costume that can be put on and taken off for fun while we truly suffer under the weight of constant transmisogyny. you are a stooge and you invite only your own to join, either purposely or unwittingly letting them be fed vitriol and lies that align with supporting the patriarchy and continuing the real oppression of real trans women. biggest tell that the afab transfem isn't transfem: she and those who support her care nothing for her transfem sisters, disgraceful

[lansseaux]

Moments are best lived involved

Pairing: Mom! caitvi x daughter! reader

Synopsis: Vi changes the bandage over Cait’s eye whilst you try to get their attention

Warnings: S2 Act 3 spoilers

Author’s note: Going to do a couple different versions of this because I have soooo many ideas about Caitvi moms! trying to deal with their injuries and being moms — I’ll probably focus on Cait’s eye after the war just because Cait’s my favourite. The versions will include: the reader trying to mimic caretaking behaviour, the reader wanting an innocent sort of revenge (innocent since they wouldn’t have a proper concept of revenge) on the person who hurt their mother, the reader getting accustomed to bandages being changed roughly every x hours or medicine being taken every x hours (for example) and worrying that caitvi will forget when they go to sleep (thinking reader wakes them up in the middle of the night, but it’s a case of the increment being able to be skipped overnight), and either cait/vi struggling to do something with reader they did before they got injured. There might be more — those are just the versions off the top of my head.

Caitlyn and Vi were in their room, you were just about old enough to be left to your own devices and neither of them knew quite how you’d react to Cait’s wound. It was still fairly fresh, gnarly, and exposure was inevitable since Cait’s bandage needed to be changed frequently so they did their best to retreat into privacy. There was never any telling how long it’d take for you to grow bored of independent play however and it seemed today, time would not be on their side. “Mama?” You called, the sound of your footsteps dashing down the hall coming just as soon as Vi had unwrapped the old bandage. “Mama’s gonna get you!” Vi called over her shoulder, waiting a moment to listen out for the sound of your footsteps retreating again before she refocused. The response was almost immediate, the sound of you running in the other direction accompanied by squealing and laughter — it was the beginning to a simple but common little game where Vi would chase you around, tickling you upon catching up. A small smile had formed on Caitlyn’s face at the brief interaction and sound, faltering slightly as Vi made sure her wound was clean - despite the best attempt to be gentle. Soon, at the end of the hallway, you realised there were no footsteps. Your Mama wasn’t chasing you after all and so you began to run back towards their room, retreating when the claim came again, “Mama’s coming!” You didn’t pick up on her distracted tone.

“Sorry.” Vi murmured softly once Caitlyn failed to mask a sharp inhale, one hand on Cait’s cheek to keep her head steady as she disinfected her eye. “It’s healing well so far,” she reassured, setting a second only slightly bloody cotton ball onto a small plate with the Kiramman insignia. “Thank you.” Vi’s gaze returned immediately to Cait’s, “You don’t need to thank me every time, you know?” A half-tease backed by somewhat concerned intent, followed by a soft but amused sigh at the sound of your approaching feet. Cait chuckled softly, your footsteps were slightly apart - you were evidently trying to tiptoe and thought you were being much quieter than you truly were. “Excuse me?” Vi exaggerated as she unraveled a fresh bandage, a small giggle followed before you quieted yourself - quite obviously hoping they hadn’t heard. “Does mommy have to come tickle you too?” Vi had barely even managed to stand when your quick refusal came — being tickled by just Mama was barely tolerable for long — and your mother go to great efforts to suppress their laughter; Caitlyn, unsurprisingly, being more successful than Vi who has to pause before beginning to wrap the bandage over Cait’s eye. Confused by their laughter, you also pause — not wanting to be tickled but also now seeking reassurance. Once a couple layers have been wrapped, there’s no need to keep you at bay any longer and so neither discourage you when they hear you coming closer again. “Don’t tickle me!” You demand, slightly upset as the need for reassurance outweighs the fun of the game. “It’s alright.” Cait affirms whilst Vi remains focused on wrapping. You quickly sped closer at the affirmation, clambering onto a corner of their bed before settling beside Caitlyn, who had already opened an arm for you. Curious as ever, you watched at Vi as she secured the bandage in place; her concentration broke momentarily to blow a raspberry at you, earning herself an accusatory finger. “Mama, that’s naughty!”

“Naughty? That’s not naughty—” Vi tried to explain but you cut her off, “Mommy said it’s naughty!” Her eyes flickered to Caitlyn’s, at which Cait corrects, “I said, it’s impolite.” Vi scoffed playfully, “What’s impolite is not paying off your debts and *you*,” her gaze fell from Cait to you,* “have a debt to pay with the tickle monster!” Your squeal of protest was cut quickly cut short, giggles taking over as Vi tickled you. “Mama!” You just about managed every few seconds between giggles, the half-hug from Cait makes it even more difficult to escape though she soon withdraws her arm, a gentle smile on her face as he watched the interaction. A moment of reprieve is gifted before the tickling continues again, your breath barely caught and after a few more seconds, a small cough escapes between the sounds of laughter and Vi stops - the signal typically had Cait fussing but this time, Vi was a step ahead. She lifted you, a surrender cuddle ready but it seemed your cough did not mean your energy was spent just yet as you resisted in favour of trying to tickle her beneath her chin, giggling, only… it didn’t seem to work. “Are you challenging me?” Vi teased, ticking you gently for a moment as you squealed a protest, before returning you to Cait’s side — who quickly became your next victim. Her smile remained, amused by your antics, “Mommy’s not ticklish either.” The claim became void a second later when her armpit was caught in the crossfire. And as the air filled with shared laughter once more, Vi watched with a bittersweet smile — there had always been so many things she’d wished she could have changed, people she wished she could have saved, and yet… if she could, if she did, the possibility that you would never have come into her and Caitlyn’s lives, that she’d never have met Cait, was entirely plausible. She didn’t allow herself to dwell long enough to cry, playfully questioning who she should help, for moments were best lived involved.

[burningembers91]

All of You - Park Min-Su x Fem!Reader (NSFW)

Follow up piece to:

The Secretary Lunch Date Awards Night Overtime The Taste of You

Synopsis: Desperate to show you that he loves you, Park Min-Su showers you in gifts. But the only thing you really want is him

Park Min-Su was head over in heels in love. Ever since that night in your apartment, he felt like he was walking on air. You were perfection personified, everything about you a dream come true. He walked a little taller, his head held a little higher, content in the knowledge that you wanted him, and he wanted you.

His father had him working almost relentlessly in the office to prepare for a meeting, and it meant Min-Su hadn’t had much time to see you outside of work. He had to make do with stolen kisses in his office, your floral perfume enveloping him as you draped yourself over his lap while he sat in his office chair. He was so in love with you, so in awe of you, but he had no idea how to express the way he felt.

His parent’s marriage was one based on convenience rather than mutual affection. His mother’s family were rich and influential, and it was a marriage based on strengthening their empires. Min-Su was sure he’d never seen a flicker of affection pass between his parents, and he often wondered how they’d stood each other’s company for long enough to make him. There were no words of affection, no looks of love or sweet kisses between them. They stayed as far away from each other as possible, interacting only when entirely necessary. Min-Su didn’t know how to express his feelings towards you, so chose to shower you with gifts.

Every day something would arrive at the office for you: flowers, jewellery, a pair of shoes made by a brand he knew you liked. Each gift was more extravagant than the last, and he never got tired of seeing the look on your face when you opened them. “You don’t need to do all this,” you smiled, unwrapping a custom-made perfume he’d designed especially. “But I want to,” Min-Su insisted. “You’re worth it.” You could see he was trying, but what you really wanted was to spend more time with him. You’d barely had five minutes to yourselves in the last few weeks, and you were craving more of him. Ever since that night in your apartment, he hadn’t left your head. Min-Su treated you better than anyone ever had, and you found yourself desperate for more. You were finding it hard to admit that your feelings for him were more than physical, so used to being used and then thrown away when you no longer served a purpose. You couldn’t help but wonder whether Min-Su was using you, using you to teach him things before he moved on to a new girl. But deep down you knew he wasn’t like that; he was different from anyone you’d been with before.

“What would you like instead?” he asked, desperate to know what it was that he could do to please you. “Just spend time with me,” you smiled, spritzing some of the vanilla and tonka scented spray on your neck. The smell was heavenly; he’d somehow managed to capture your essence in a single scent and it matched you perfectly. “Tonight,” he said, almost begged. “Tonight. Let’s do something. Whatever you want.”

“Take me for dinner,” you told him, “and then I want you to take me back to my apartment, and I want you to fuck me.”

Min-Su groaned as you said the words, pulling you down onto his lap. He’d thought of nothing but making love to you, of hearing you moan for him again. His lips met yours, his hands trailing up your waist and across the soft contours of your breasts. He was getting more confident with you, taking charge a little more. You loved it when he kissed you, his hands softly gripping the nape of your neck so he could tilt your head back. Around you, the Min-Su who was scared of his own shadow was gone, replaced by a confident man who knew what he wanted. You only wished that bravery extended to his family and colleagues, but Min-Su hadn’t made it that far yet.

That night, he pulled out all the stops, taking you to the best sushi place in Seoul, ordering the most expensive champagne and cocktails. He wanted to tell you how he felt so many times, but he could never seem to find the right words. He’d never had anyone tell him they loved him before, and he’d never said the words either. Up until you, he had been sure love was something made up. But you made his stomach flip, his heart sing and whenever he was with you, everything just seemed to make sense. You looked especially beautiful tonight, the soft glow of the lighting above the table illuminating your features. Min-Su couldn’t wait to get you home, couldn’t wait to finally know what it would feel like to have all of you.

You walked back to your apartment, the city streets buzzing with the busy Friday night crowds. You were so wrapped up in each other, you barely noticed the sea of people around you. Min-Su clasped your hand in his, wondering how he’d gone so long without you. He couldn’t understand how his parents stayed together when they didn’t feel anything for each other. What he felt for you was so strong, so raw, and he couldn’t fathom the fact that his parents didn’t have that. You were everything he’d ever wanted, and he hoped you felt the same.

Arriving back at your apartment, Min-Su felt that all too familiar pang of nerves as you opened the door. He wanted to please you, to make you feel good, and there was always a little voice in the back of his head telling him he might get it wrong. He helped you take your coat off, hanging it on the hook by your door. It never ceased to amaze you how caring he was, how he looked after you in the smallest of ways. “Come here,” he whispered, pulling you into him, his fingers gently brushing up the soft skin of your arms. He kissed you, relishing in the little moans of affection that fell from your lips. “I want you,” you breathed, your fingers fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. You’d started this relationship being the one in charge, but tonight you felt entirely at his mercy. His hand cupped your chin, his lips trailing over your cheeks and jaw. He’d learned so much from you already, and tonight he wanted to put it into practice.

Leading him to your bedroom, you sat down on the soft mattress, taking in Min-Su’s toned torso that peaked through the opening in his shirt. Your hand reached up to take his, gently pulling him down next to you. You could feel him shaking, could hear his breath hitch as his hand brushed against your thigh. “Take off your dress,” he told you, savouring the moan that fell from your lips at his order. You liked this bossier side of him, enjoyed seeing him taking the reins for once. You did as you were told, standing up and letting the soft, silky fabric fall to the floor.

Min-Su would never get enough of your body, your soft curves sheer perfection. He pulled you down onto his lap, tracing the outline of your breasts with the pads of his fingers. He pinched your sensitive nipple in between his thumb and forefinger, smiling as you moaned again for him. He liked having you needy for him, enjoyed using his hands to make you feel good. He could feel how wet you wet, the fabric of your underwear damp with your arousal. As much as he wanted to tease you tonight, he needed you, needed all of you and he couldn’t wait anymore.

His lips met yours, hungry and desperate as he unzipped his jeans. You pulled his shirt from his shoulders, his lithe, taut body warm against yours. Lying back for him, you spread your legs, and for a moment, Min-Su saw stars. “We can take it slow,” you smiled, mistaking his adoration of you for nervousness. “I don’t want to take it slow,” he whispered, “I want to show you how much I love you.”

You stared up at him, shock etched on your face. No one had ever said that to you before, no one had ever cared about you the way Min-Su had. “I love you,” he whispered again, his hands trailing down across your spread thighs. His thumb pressed gently onto your clit, your moan the sweetest sound as he whispered those three words to you again. Now that he’d told you how he felt, Min-Su would make sure he whispered those words to you every day. “I love you too,” you smiled, pulling his body down on top of you. You helped guide him inside of you, the guttural groan he made as he entered you lighting the fire deep within your belly.

You moved slowly together, Min-Su clinging to you as he got lost in the sensation. You were so tight, so warm, your walls clenching him so deliciously he forgot to breathe. Your legs wrapped around his waist, pushing him further inside of you as he cried out at the overwhelming sensation. He knew he wouldn’t last long, not when you felt this good. “Min-Su,” you whispered his name, knowing it drove him crazy. “You feel so good. Harder, I need it harder.”

He planted his hands either side of your head, thrusting fast and deep into you. You cried out, your moans his undoing. He told you that he loved you as he came, painting your tight, wet walls with every last drop of himself. “Stay with me?” you asked him as he collapsed next to you, waiting for your breathing to return to normal. “Always,” he whispered, his face buried in the crook of your neck.

He made love to you over and over again that night, drawing your pleasure out until you begged for a release. You’d given him so much over the last few months, and now it was Min-Su’s time to return the favour. He would make sure you never wanted for anything, would ensure that every day you knew how much he cared for you. He refused to be like his parents, to simply exist alongside someone.

You were the only thing that mattered to him now; not his job, or the company, or the life his father wanted him to lead. Somehow, he had to find the courage to start living for himself, to make a life for the two of you. He wasn’t sure how he’d find the guts to stand up to a man he’d feared his entire life, but he needed to start being brave.

If he wanted to make a life with you, he had to break the chains he’d father had placed him in and start building something new with you.

[rafesbuzzcutseason]

chasing city lights

chapter 6 - you look good

synopsis: you move to new york to start fresh, hoping to find comfort in the city’s atmosphere. that’s when you meet sarah cameron, where she takes you to a concert and you catch sight of the lead band member, rafe cameron. it only takes a moment for you to realize you’re captivated by him. as sarah helps you navigate your new life in the city, you start to get pulled deeper into rafe's world—the music, the fame, the chaos. the more you get to know him, the more you realise that rafe is not just the rock star he seems to be. he’s wrestling with his own demons, and the last thing he needs is someone like you getting close.

masterlist

cw: lanuguage

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you headed out of bed and made your way downstairs to where everyone was having breakfast, a rush of nerves taking over you entered the room, searching for the group.

you could feel rafe's gaze on you before you even looked in his direction, and when you did, you could see his eyes narrow, his look unreadable.

"there you are!" sarah spoke, "thought we were gonna have to leave without you." she laughed.

"don't be silly i just needed my beauty sleep." you laughed back. "what's the plan for today?"

"thought we could have a walk around a bit before we had to drive back?" cleo asked.

"sounds good" you said as you grabbed some pastries. "you gonna come rafe?" you asked him directly as he was yet to address you.

"i will if you are" he said quietly, making your heart skip a beat, his remark not going unoticed by the rest of the group.

jj cleared his throat, and a small smile played on sarah's lips, enjoying the small interaction between the two of you. "alright lets get going then, you guys ready?" she said.

"yeah lets go" topper said bluntly, a shift in his usual upbeat demeanour, but he quickly bounced back as you all made your way outside.

after a few hours walking around, you all made your way back to the hotel to pack up your things and get ready for the drive home. the boys had a flight to san francisco for their show before they were headed to LA for their last nights on tour there.

you had all made a rough plan to fly out to LA for the last show, making sure the whole group was there to celebrate the end of tour.

as everyone made their ways to their rooms, you hung behind with rafe, walking slower than the rest of the group, intenitally from you, and hoping it was for rafe also.

"how are you feeling to be finishing the tour?" you asked him, breaking the silence.

"sad, but ready for a long break and to spend some time at home" he replied leaning against the door as everyone got into their rooms.

you nodded understandingly, "LA will be good though. it'll be my first time there."

"no way? i'm gonna have to show you around then." he responded smugly.

"yeah?" you pushed.

"yeah." he smiled, "can't have you lost in the streets of LA now can we?" his height meaning he had to lean closer to you to get his words across.

"i guess we can't."

"i'm happy you're gonna be there." he added

"you are?'

"course." he responded quickly. "always nice to know there's a pretty girl in the crowd cheering me on." and with that, he turned away from you and made his way to his own room, leaving you flustered and stuck in your stance, taking in his words. pretty girl?

as you went to open the door, it flung open and sarah dragged you in.

"oh my god not to be a CREEP but i heard that all" she said excitedly. "y/n he likes you. i knew it i knew it!" she shut the door with an exagerated slam, not even giving you time to process what just happened.

"lord sarah what just happened." your voice barely above a whisper.

"he literally just called you pretty. i KNEW he was acting different around you, he's been so nervous." she squealed.

"are you sure it wasn't just rafe being rafe?"

"stop right there. look i'm not blind. it all makes sense now, the way he's always looking at you. i just thought he was trying to figure out his opinion on you, but he likes you. rafe isn't the type to throw out compliments like that, he's always playing it cool, he doesn't care about anything. but the way he just spoke to you? that was different"

"you don't mind?" you asked nervously.

"i would if i hadn't got to know you like i do now. i'm so protective of him and his whack ass fans, but i love you y/n, you've become my best friend in such a short time, i want you happy, and i want my brother happy. do you like him?"

"fuck, maybe. what does this mean?"

"i don't know, but i know LA is about to get a whole lot more interesting." she grinned. "come on let's hit the road and chat with the girls. we need to come up with a plan."

and with that, you finished packing and headed out the door, making your way to the car for the long drive home, where you were sure a lot would be unpacked.

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a/n: feeding you all today, felt the slowburn needed to be RESOLVED. anyway just wanted to clarify you can tell who's ig story it is by the profile pic as i'm not sure if that was clear or not my bad

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