#at this point like we can't keep going on like this

[writerpeach]

Provocation

ITZY Shin Yuna x m!reader

15k words

“That’s not true,” Yuna argues, arms folded as if this is the most ludicrous thing she's had to explain. "Despite what everyone thinks, I don't sleep around. Maybe a few guys on the weekends, but during the week? I like to have a one-guy policy."

You don't believe her one bit—but you'll play along. "Just one guy? That's it?"

Yuna shrugs her shoulders. "Of course. One guy at a time. One guy on Monday—maybe Tuesday. And Wednesday. That's it."

"That's three, Yuna," you laugh, shifting in your seat to face her a bit more. She takes a sip of her drink, stirring it around before bringing it back up to her pouty, red lips—the ones that cause nothing but trouble.

"Exactly. A different guy each day of the week. I don't think that's a lot. If anything, Yeji gets around way more than me."

Now you know she's lying.

The way you can tell is when her lips move. That's the telltale sign. When a word slips out between them, you always know the words will be objectively false. 

Because this is Shin Yuna, the girl who flaunts every facet of her beauty like it's her job. This is the girl who wears skirts short enough to flash the entire bar a glimpse of her perfect little ass. The one who always leaves the house wearing a bra on purpose, her top always sheer enough to show the shape of her perky breasts. The same girl who would give head to a random guy just because he asked for a stick of gum.

"Yeji? Are we talking about the same girl?" you question, doubting that girl would even have a quarter the sex that Yuna has in one night. Yeji's definitely attractive, but reserved and soft spoken—nothing like the track record Yuna has.

"Hey, don't get it twisted," Yuna protests, nearly spilling some drink when she sets her glass down. "Yeji isn't some innocent church girl. She's a lot hornier than people think. Almost too much. As much as she acts all pure and sweet and innocent, she's a freak."

You'd say you believe her, except it's Yuna—so it's not probable in the slightest. "Right. She's totally a freak and you're an absolute saint."

"Glad we're on the same page." Yuna grins, stealing your drink to take a sip without even asking, leaving those red lips staining the rim of the glass. "She's more insatiable than me."

"I think you've had a little too much to drink, Yuna.” 

Yuna ignores you entirely. "I mean it—that girl is probably getting dicked down as we speak. Or if she isn't, then she's got a new vibrator that's getting the job done, watching some of the most depraved porn out there. That girl is obsessed."

"Obsessed with dick or obsessed with porn?"

"Both. You can't imagine some of the toys she has hidden."

Yuna keeps speaking, but she could say anything at this point, and you know there wouldn’t be an ounce of truth in it. She's gotten more than a couple drinks deep now. And her tight skirt rides up, each not-so-subtle movement revealing more thigh as she shifts, not even the slightest concerned who can see underneath.

"If she's a freak, what the hell does that make you, then?" you ask in all earnest, trying to change the subject, because Yuna clearly can't be trusted around alcohol. This girl and oversharing go together far too well.

"Me? Oh, I'm the best fuck of your life—the one who will choke on your cock like a goddamn whore and let you blow your load all over my pretty face." 

You don’t even look at her when you reply. "Forget I ever asked." 

"But you did ask. And now you're going to take me home so I can demonstrate exactly what I do to those poor, pathetic boys every weekend."

"Absolutely not. I don't recall making an invitation."

"Do I need one? Doesn't feel like it," Yuna asks, with a quick tilt of her head. "Doesn't daddy wanna spend all night fucking this tight little pussy?"

You nearly vomit hearing Yuna's poor attempt at seduction. "Stop it. Please, for the love of god, don't ever call me that again."

She simply laughs it off, leaning close as she rests a hand on your thigh, those nimble little fingers giving a good squeeze, when it wanders just a little too high. 

"Come on," she insists. "The second you’ve got your cock inside me, you know there won't be any pulling out. Daddy won't be able to control himself."

"I'm leaving you here. Take a cab if you have to," you warn, standing up from the barstool without even the slightest look back in her direction.

Yuna sighs. “Okay, fine,” she says as she grabs your wrist, keeping you from going very far. "I won't call you that anymore. Just take me home and fuck my brains out. Please?"

That voice, the desperation, it's hard to resist. Not to mention the pleading look, those big, round eyes staring, and when your focus falls down her shirt, barely even a shirt, the curves on this girl she dares to flaunt in your face. Yuna wants you to know that you'd be a fool to turn her down.

"What's in it for me? Aren't there plenty of guys lining up for a chance to fuck you here?" 

"This place is boring—and none of them can handle me." 

You're not even sure you can handle this girl and her attitude, but when Yuna stares like that, this longing look that begs for attention—it's difficult to say no. "Are you saying that just because you want a ride home?"

"It's a reason, yes." She can't hold back the smile, no matter how hard she tries. "You take me home, and then I'll suck your cock until your legs give out. Won't you help this poor, helpless little slut?"

Against your better judgment, there’s this temptation you can’t ignore. A devil resting on your shoulder, and on the other side, also a devil in the form of Shin Yuna herself. You can’t refuse that smile, those batting eyelashes, or those eyes without a hint of innocence in them. You’re already a lost cause. 

Yuna can’t help but smirk, seeing her prey lured in with such ease as she grabs her coat, one hand slipping in yours, and not even needing a response when the both of you know where this is heading. "No more daddy—that's a promise."

You don’t believe that for a second, but you also don't care one bit as you head out, Yuna clinging to your arm on the way to the parking lot. 

And this might be your biggest mistake yet. 

Neither of you even make it out of the parking garage to your apartment. Yuna has you backed up against the cold, concrete wall, in a dark corner that she swears doesn't have a camera—but even if it does, who fucking cares when the sight of her on her knees takes precedence, getting your cock wet between her lips as fast as possible.

And the sound of her greedy slurps echo off those same walls, somehow a thousand times louder than usual. 

"You know my apartment is right up there," you manage to say in between gasping breaths. Yuna's barely listening, staring straight into your eyes, with her cheeks hollowed to no end and every inch of your cock taken down so easily. She spits over your length a few more times, spreading it along your hard shaft before her lips swallow you whole, not breaking her gaze once for even a single breath. 

With another loud, sloppy suck with those red lips around the tip of your shaft, that's the only time she answers, a small pop filling the air when she backs off, stroking you slowly with her fist.

"That's two floors up. Why wait, when I can just suck your cock here? That elevator takes ages." she argues innocently, running her tongue underneath that most sensitive area of your shaft. "Unless you really want me to stop—"

"N-no. Fuck, no. Don't you fucking dare." 

"That's what I thought,” Yuna replies, and she has no intention to, burying her nose in your abdomen with every last inch consumed by her warm throat. And her wet mouth gets so noisy, so starved, these desperate slurps that could probably be heard all the way to the top floor of the parking garage. 

It's so completely Yuna: her lack of restraint, the enthusiasm as she bobs her head in a blur without any sign of a gag reflex. The way her lips tighten around your shaft and stay there for an eternity without pulling off even for a second, like she needs your cock down her throat for survival. It’s goddamn relentless. 

“God, Yuna, this fucking mouth—" you curse under your breath and place a hand on her head for guidance, wondering how the fuck Yuna manages to take so much at once while looking so beautiful at the same time. It's her lips wrapped around every inch, the way she stares into you, her lipstick all smeared along the base of your shaft with a fresh layer of spit glistening along the length of it. "Why the hell is your mouth so good at this?” 

It's a compliment that's only going to feed that inflated ego, as if that's even possible at this point. But you can't hold back the praise, when her lips feel this incredible, wrapped so tight with all the warm, wet suction you can handle, taking you back into the deep end of her throat like nothing. 

"I’ve told you…” Yuna starts with this smug little grin as she draws out every reaction she can out of your features with a messy kiss to your swollen cockhead. "Suck enough dick, and you have it down to a science. Nobody gives head better than me. Not Yeji, not a single person you've met."

Can’t say you find any fault with that, for once. The rare occasion when Yuna speaks the truth, with how good her mouth feels on you, slurping away to get these groans spilling that reinforces her point. How could anybody come close? 

“Don’t let it get to your head.” 

“Too late,” she says, with her playful little chuckle when you escape from the heat of her mouth. She continues to pump her fingers along every spit-soaked inch that sets you on edge, slowing down only so she can drag it out, savor the look of desperation etched across your face. Then she’s right back down, lips flush to your base in no time. 

“Shit, those fucking lips feel so good. Who knew you had any other skill other than being an obnoxious fucking brat.” 

Yuna doesn't even fight you for that one, giving your length a sloppy kiss, before sliding her mouth down to latch around your balls and suck hard. A tight fist strokes quicker than before, twisting so perfectly while her mouth is occupied, a motion that makes you completely unable to hold back the strangled noises that she gets off on. 

It all feels too good, with her full attention devoted to your aching cock that throbs in her fingers, these lewd slurps of your sensitive balls that drive you towards the edge faster when her mouth gets all hot and wet around you.

“F-fuck, fuck, Yuna—“ 

It’s so clear, the sheer enjoyment written across Yuna's features when she pops off your balls with a loud, wet pop. and then gets your cock right back in her mouth where it belongs.

There’s no stopping her this time—not when she gets a good grip on your thighs for support, so she can slobber on your cock with reckless abandon. A fucking shameless display, saliva dripping down her chin, a messy string that connects from her lip to the tip of your swollen cockhead while she takes you straight into the back of her throat, again, and again, not taking a breath unless she absolutely needs to. 

And then she’s jerking your cock right in front of her face. 

“Almost ready to cum for me, aren’t you? Don't you wanna fucking finish all over my pretty face? Don't you like how nice it looks when I'm covered in your thick load?"

Fuck, do you ever—and it doesn't help when Yuna tightens her grip and gives these rapid strokes that have your head spinning. All you can do is watch as she furiously jerks your cock straight towards her gorgeous face, tongue out so eagerly as she awaits every bit you're ready to release.

When it hits, the first explosive burst shoots across her forehead, streaking right over her hair. The rest follows, finding a place splattering all across her face. All over those open pouty lips—hot, sticky spurts that Yuna catches with her tongue as each shot paints a different spot of her features, the excess dribbling down her chin. 

Yuna laughs through it, trying not to close her eyes so she can watch you unload all over her features, a mess that has no end in sight. More hits her cheek, a nice shot across her nose as your cock pulsates in her tight fist, and the hot spurts continue to paint her in white streaks across her flawless face. A final few bursts land across her open mouth, a taste that gets her smiling so wide through a cum-stained mess.

"Fucking christ, Yuna," you exhale, out of breath as the high lingers.

Yuna lets your throbbing cock rest gently against her cheek, your orgasm slow to subside. Even when every last drop is wrung from the tip, she refuses to take her mouth off you, sucking your shaft clean with a few long slurps and flicks of her tongue that make you nearly collapse. 

"Just look at all that fucking cum. I'm covered in it, like a good little slut should be," she marvels, staring at the exhaustion plastered across your face. "Bet that felt good, huh? God, there's like a week's worth of cum here. All milked out of your thick fucking cock."

And Yuna has never looked better. 

"H-hold on, I'll get something to clean that up—"

Yuna gets to her feet, stepping in to shut down the idea before you can finish. "No need. I'll keep it on until we get to your apartment. Plus, I look the prettiest when I'm dripping with your cum."

It's insane—the words this girl will casually throw out in public, and how she wants to spend the entire elevator ride looking like that. Even if it's late enough that hardly anybody uses this elevator, there's always a chance you could run into someone who lives here. But saying no to this girl was never an option, already heading back the direction of the elevator without giving much a chance to argue, much less a chance to slip your pants back on.

Shin Yuna is quite possibly the worst influence—and yet, here you are.

Once she's all cleaned up, it's just pure unadulterated lust, from both ends as you find a spot on the couch to crash into with Yuna straddling you. Not an ounce of innocence in the kiss. Nothing but hot breath and moans, not even a second to break for air. The alcohol, the ride back here, the blowjob in the goddamn parking garage, you can't even contain yourself anymore. You let this girl get to you in the best of ways and give into this sinful temptation with an absolute desire to ruin her.

Yuna groans as you plant these rough, messy kisses along her neck—god, she tastes so good, like strawberries and sin and everything you're addicted to. She writhes under you, fingers tangled through your hair and you're not leaving your lips off her for a single second. 

"Keep doing that, please, f-fuck," Yuna pleads, and you flip her around effortlessly to do so, her tight little body flat on her back underneath you. You leave these marks all down her neck—sucking hard on that sensitive skin so easy to bruise, and sinking your teeth in at every opportunity. All these whimpers fill your ears and the louder they are, the harder you bite, the rougher your kisses grow.

This relentless assault leaves her breathless, an abrupt change from the usual confidence and arrogance that defines her. Right here, under you like this, Yuna makes it so easy to have her body entirely at your mercy—even more when you strip her shirt off and toss it aside, revealing those breasts fully to the chilly air. You barely have time to admire the sight of them before your mouth moves to devour the newly exposed flesh.

"You have no idea all the things I want to do to you, Yuna," you growl as you take a nipple between your lips, a sharp suck and a light nibble that makes her squirm even harder against the couch cushions.

"Like what? Tell me everything you want to do to me, d-daddy—"

You glare up, eyeing her intently and there's this sudden moment of silence while you refuse to get your mouth back onto her tits. 

"S-sorry, it just slipped," she says with this unabashed laughter, her apology as believable as anything else that escapes from those pretty lips. "Every guy I fuck loves hearing that. Force of habit."

"Don't make me leave you on this couch alone, Shin Yuna. Because I'll fucking do it, no hesitation."

"You'll never hear it again, I promise. Never, ever—now come on, back to what you were doing."

You raise a suspicious brow for a moment, but then it's back to your ravenous mouth focusing all over her chest, kissing up all over when you alternate between them. She loves it too—every hot and heavy kiss, every time you lick right at her most sensitive spots, latching onto her stiff nipples and sucking so hard. Yuna grips tightly at the back of your head, her fingers deep in those locks while you devour her tits and enjoy the softness of them against your face, skin flushed when you switch to the other breast.

And god, this sound that escapes her throat—when you travel down her body and kiss her abdomen, these soft little kisses that make her sigh harder and squirm more, getting lower and lower until the fabric of her skirt blocks your progression. It's this whimper from her lips when you swipe your tongue right above her belly button, a slow drag that tastes as much of her as possible.

"Skirt on or off? Your pick." You kiss at the top of her thighs, waiting eagerly for an answer as you toy around with the zipper.

"Whatever d—" she stops herself halfway. "You want. Whatever you want. On. Just fuck me with it on—can't wait, need you between my thighs already."

Can't say you're disappointed in the decision—pushing her skirt up her thighs to reveal that pretty purple lace that contrasts her pale thighs. But before you have the chance to put her out of her misery, you get a little more comfortable, stripping down to nothing but your boxers while Yuna bites her bottom lip and watches in silence. She keeps staring, wide eyes filled with anticipation as she catches the slightest glimpse of the way you're hard for her already.

"See something you like?" you ask her, Yuna shifting underneath with her skirt neatly bunched up her waist. 

"No, not a single thing," she answers, unable to hide her laughter for a second.

"Good, then I guess I can just go jerk off in my room or something," you tease, about to remove yourself from the couch until her hands lock tight around your shoulders, keeping you planted there.

"Shut the fuck up and eat me out. Can't wait a second more, ruin me with that amazing tongue of yours."

"Not even a please?"

"Absolutely not," Yuna insists, growing more impatient by the second. But it's a good thing you're generous—and more than raring to get between her thighs as much as she needs you to. 

She can hardly contain the noise when you grab the waistband of her panties and drag them down those long legs, Yuna lifting up just slightly to help guide them off. And when they slide past her feet, you don't hesitate one bit, spreading her thighs apart just to admire the sight—exposing her glistening wet cunt in all its glory.

"See something you like?" Yuna echoes your own question right back, flashing a smirk which only fades when you respond with a brief flick of your tongue. 

"Yeah, a perfect place to dump a huge load of cum," you remark back, licking a long stripe up her wet slit before ending in a gentle suck of her clit. "God, you're so fucking wet, Yuna. Dripping like crazy down here."

"Who's fucking fault is that?" 

"Not mine. You're the one who begged me to take you home because you were too scared to find a stranger in the bar to fuck."

The first few long licks do the rest of the talking for you as you bury your head deep between her spread thighs, tongue exploring her deliciously wet pussy. So sweet on your lips the more you taste, a suck of her clit every now and again, these unimpeded moans that can’t help spring free from her lips. 

"F-fuck, oh my fucking—first off, I did not beg. Second, don't pretend like you wouldn't fuck me if I found someone better," Yuna manages to get out mid-way through an absolutely filthy groan, grabbing fistfuls of your hair to push your face against her pussy.

"You're saying you could find someone better than me? In that shitty little dive bar?"

"S-shut up. Your ego's fucking broken," she argues between her desperate moans. You roll your eyes at her and get back to work—watching the way Yuna attempts to cover up her mouth with the palm of her hand. 

"Is that why you're struggling so much not to moan for me? You think any of those drunk idiots at the bar could do what I do to this pretty little pussy?" You're so determined to see her at a loss for words, lapping away at her clit, but that's all this girl brings out of you. It's difficult to play the nice guy when all her lips do is incite a response out of you like this. 

"You talk t-too much. Shut up and eat my cunt, so I can cum on your face already."

That you can do—more than happily. With a hand against her abdomen, Yuna's being pinned to the cushions as your tongue lashes away at her delicious folds to really lap up all her sweetness. It's addictive, the way you suck and lick away, from her swollen clit, right down to the bottom of her glistening wet slit, this intense groan tearing right through her as she locks eyes to watch you devour her cunt.

"Forgot how fucking good you taste—god, you taste fucking amazing.” 

“You forgot? Nobody forgets how good I taste. Not when you're addicted to eating my pussy as much as you are—"

That's a ridiculous enough statement to ignore, but you also can't bear the idea of stopping what you're doing, with your tongue exploring in slow, steady laps of every delicious morsel. Not when the sweet taste of Yuna fills your mouth and threatens to drown out everything else you feel, because she's so damn wet. It's the way your head is trapped between her thighs, keeping you right where she wants, smothering your face with her dripping cunt and forcing your tongue as deep as it can possibly reach. 

"Fucking shit—your mouth, that's so good, god. Fuck, fuck, y-you're gonna make me fucking cum! Don't stop—"

Like you could ever. Not when you have Yuna writhing against the cushions, watching the way her features contort into absolute bliss with just a harsh suck of her clit. 

Her mouth hangs open, head thrown back and the lewd, whiny little moans that you're so familiar with come right out. There's a rhythm of breathing that follows—heavy and erratic the more you try to break this girl. She struggles to even control herself when all she's reduced to is a soaking mess in front of your eyes, grinding against your face, needing to cum more than her next breath.

And that's the perfect opportunity to deny her what she wants so desperately. A split-second pause, watching the lust transform into absolute desperation. 

"N-no, please," she protests, urgency in her voice the second she feels your tongue stop. 

"Something wrong?"

"You ass—don't fucking stop. I said not to stop!" 

That's enough incentive to get back to it, fingers plunging right inside that wet heat to give your mouth a much-needed rest. Which only gives you these drawn-out moans, and fuck—there's not a single thing tighter than Yuna. Two fingers sink in with such ease, so wet, so warm, just taking whatever you'll give her at this rate. Nice and slow at first, so you can admire her reaction as you curl them inside, reaching spots that make her back arch right off the couch. 

"P-please, I'm so fucking close, fuck—"

Now she's begging, needing release at a level that's quite rare to see from Yuna. You pick up the pace, plunging those digits deep inside her sopping wet walls, hitting that same spot that makes her hips jolt so violently. 

"Is this what you needed? Come on, I know you're right fucking there. Fucking cum, Yuna. Cum like the needy little slut you are." 

You're not sure if it's the words that do her in, or the merciless assault of your fingers—both together is what gets the job done, the constant wet squelch that echoes with every furious plunge deep into her slick warmth. It's unmistakable when her cunt gushes around your thrusting fingers—spraying all over your hand, the couch, and god knows what else is just destroyed at this point. 

Yuna turns into a relentless, gushing mess, until she grabs your wrist to keep those fingers moving, filling the air with an even more delicious series of sobs.

Beautiful doesn’t begin to describe it when her body spasms the more you pump into this sensitive little cunt. Your fingers are so drenched, with the juices that spill like a fountain, these choked moans that escape with every thrust. And when that begging for more turns into pleading to stop, you're not interested in withdrawal, not until you wring a second orgasm out, a third, however many it takes for her to finally tap out. 

"S-stop, you're gonna fucking kill me, stop—god, it's just too much," she cries out, every ounce of strength left in her failing. Only do you pull out when Yuna forces your arm away, thighs still quivering in the aftermath as you get a good look of the damage done. Flat on her back, she can hardly move on her own. A mess all along her creamy thighs, along the couch, and who knows where else. 

"My poor couch."

"Your poor couch? What about my poor fucking pussy? Look at what you fucking did, I came like five fucking times—"

Even in the aftermath of an intense, messy climax, Yuna can’t help being Yuna.

"I didn't hear any complaints when you were squirting all over me,” you say, and bring your wet fingers to your lips to suck the delicious taste off. 

"Because your fucking fingers felt so fucking good, you asshole—" Yuna's so worn out, completely unable to do anything but just revel in the mess she's made.  

"You're welcome."

"That wasn't a thank you—oh my fucking god, look at my skirt, you fuck," Yuna groans, eyes shifting to the state bunched up above her waist. 

"This is your fault, don't even start."

"Because you fucking made me ruin it, this is like a $300 skirt!"

"My condolences," you say, without a hint of guilt, the damage to her skirt not even the least of your concerns. Especially when you unzip it to slide it right down her slim figure—revealing every inch of her gorgeous body naked for you to drink in. "Excuse me, princess. However can I make it up to you?"

"Don't fucking call me that," she snaps, and even in her weakened state she's not any easier to deal with. "I'm too tired to ride you right now, so you're just going to have to fuck me until my legs don't work." 

"Still not hearing a please," you remind her, slipping out of your boxers at last, your stiff cock finally freed after seeing Yuna's naked frame laid out so perfectly.

"You can take your please and shove it right up your fucking ass. I'm not saying it."

"Fucking brat," you curse, grabbing her waist to position Yuna right where you want her. "I'll do all the damn work then—you're not going anywhere but into this couch."

"Good, about fucking time."

When she's finally done complaining, her gaze falls back to your rock hard cock aimed at her soaking entrance. You shift forward, a hand on her slender waist for support, the head of your shaft nudging her wet cunt.

"Come on then, I haven't got all night—are you gonna fuck me, or just stare?"

"Yes you do. What the fuck else are you gonna do? Go fuck somebody else you won't even remember the next morning?" Angling yourself just right, you don’t waste a second longer to slide inside, right up to the hilt—feeling that tight, heavenly cunt consume every inch.

"My fucking god, Yuna—"

She's never felt more incredible, or so goddamn tight, impossibly wet, warm—every sensation just overwhelming, getting used to it all over like it's the first time inside her. A feeling that doesn't disappear, even before you move one bit, with these beautiful legs spread wide apart as they'll go.

"Forgot how tight my little pussy was, huh?" she taunts, loving the groans that it pulls from your mouth. "You haven't changed at all. Still have that same cute little face you get when you've got your cock inside me. My pussy just ruins every other girl for you, doesn't it?"

"Too tight, god—why are you so fucking tight? Greedy slut gets pounded by twelve guys a week and still this tight? Fuck—"

"Less talking and more fucking. Move your hips—fuck me like the filthy little whore I am, come on."

Your only response is to get your hands right on both sides of Yuna's tiny waist, sliding outside with just the tip of your cock remaining, before slamming your entire shaft to fill her again. The first thrusts alone have her clutching the couch cushions to brace for more, each one a little rougher, a little deeper, the walls of her cunt clenching so hard the more of your throbbing shaft fills her. 

"Don’t hold back. I wanna feel every inch of that thick fucking cock in my wet little cunt," Yuna breathes out with this demand in her voice. "Come on, harder—ruin my poor little pussy, f-fuck."

"That's the fucking plan." All this tension you've built up between each other has reached its boiling point, the frustration, the annoyance, all coming out here and now. Because once Yuna is under you like this, everything changes, your hips pulling back only to shove in again, a relentless rhythm on repeat. 

"Better be. Why do you even need other girls when my perfect little pussy is always here waiting for your cock? You already have a pretty fucktoy to use, don't you—"

"Yuna, stop fucking talking already," you groan with no patience for anymore of her rambling. "Your schedule is a little booked up right now, in case you haven't noticed."

That's when your thrusts hit without holding back, hard enough to get a reprieve from that bratty attitude—watching her pretty features contort as you keep drilling inside that intoxicating heat. Not letting up once, the sound of her slick pussy soaking every inch of your shaft with every slam fills the room, barely audible over the sound of her loud moans. And that tightness, god—it’s unfathomable, unforgettable, each delicious clench driving your hips so you’ll feel more of it. 

"Then I'll fucking clear my schedule. As long as you promise to fuck me like this—I'll put you in my calendar every fucking day."

That's not exactly the solution, and you can't imagine being with Yuna day in and day out, even if that comes with the prospect of having access to this pretty, warm little wet hole whenever you feel like. No, not worth the hassle—maybe for a weekend, but beyond that you'd go insane.

"Once a week is enough. Maybe twice if you can keep your fucking attitude in check."

"You love my attitude. Just like the rest of this body that you can't keep your hands off."

She has a point—a painfully accurate one, but not one that you're willing to admit when you keep trying to silence Yuna with these violent slams that have your balls ready to unload sooner rather than later. Her tight cunt drives you absolutely wild, almost distracting enough from that infuriating mouth of hers.

But even more distracting is the look in her face while you fuck her, and you can't resist staring with every thrust as she continues to keep those legs parted just for you. That's until they wrap tightly around your waist, the heels of her bare feet digging into your lower back, forcing you deeper into this perfect tight body.

"What the fuck are you—"

Yuna's light giggle interrupts your question, the look in her eyes almost enough of an answer on its own. "Just making sure you're not thinking about pulling out. Want every drop you have. Fucking dump it in me."

"God, will you shut up," you groan, face burying into the crook of Yuna's neck, unable to take another second of her mouth running while your hips keep up this unforgiving pace. This tightness, this wetness, it's more than you can handle, using her cunt to fuck every bit of annoyance building inside from what feels like forever. 

"I'll shut up when you cum inside me. It's been way too fucking long since you finished inside me, since I've heard you moan when your balls empty. Does every girl you fuck let you finish like this? Bet none of them do."

You're not even interested in playing this game with her, not when she has you so close already, your pistoning hips driven by such immense desire to flood Yuna's dripping cunt. She's even clenching harder than usual with those slim legs locked so tight, a grip you can't possibly slip from no matter how much you tried. Not that you even would. 

Thrust after merciless thrust, you keep your lips sealed to her neck, sucking so hard like it's the only thing to keep you anchored. All you can do is keep moaning in her ear, keep hammering her greedy little cunt, faster and faster—

"I'm about to fucking cum, Y-Yuna—"

The words leave your mouth right before you've reached your limit. Your mind's elsewhere, not even in control, as your balls tighten and every muscle in your body tenses. Not even a word on her end, like Yuna was waiting for this moment the entire night. There's just hot breath on her neck, your cock pounding so hard into this soaked pussy, every pump taking you further past the point of no return—until that first surge shoots deep inside her wet walls.

A hot, sticky load floods right into her pussy in a violent throb of bursts, pumping one spurt after the other deep as possible. Yuna wraps her legs tighter with each, keeping you buried completely while everything unloads inside her. Everything goes blank, losing track of how many shots fill her tight cunt, a complete blur while your hips move on repeat, fucking it all deeper into her slick warmth. 

"F-fuck, there's so much," Yuna groans, struggling to find the words, feeling every ounce of your hot load spill inside, threatening to overflow before you even finish.

You just continue to drive into her without mercy, until your body begins to give out, sweat dripping all along her pale frame underneath. By the time you're done, you’ve collapsed into the comfort of Yuna's neck, planting gentle kisses along the marks you've left behind while you ride out the high. She stays quiet for a moment—no taunting, no attitude, letting your still throbbing cock rest inside her with your thick load slowly seeping out.

It's the most deserved orgasm you've had in a while, you think. Putting up with Yuna—just to unload everything you have inside, where it belongs. All her annoying remarks, that shameless, filthy fucking mouth all seem to fade into obscurity after everything. For a few seconds, there's bliss. A quiet bliss. 

Bliss that doesn't last very long at all. 

"Did that feel good? Emptying your big, heavy balls inside me?" Yuna asks you, resting her long arms around your body. It's almost calming, the light scratches down your back that lull you into a state of relaxation. Something you didn't think was possible with this girl.

"Y-yeah," you breathe out against her neck, struggling to catch your breath as you linger in the warmth of her tight pussy that can’t stop clenching for more. "I came inside you, now get off me—"

"Never, you're still fucking hard. My legs still work, and I haven't even gotten to ride you yet," she reminds you, staring straight into your eyes with her legs staying perfectly in place. "That load was just an appetizer—daddy." 

You groan—louder than ever before, but not in pleasure.

"What the fuck did I tell you about calling me that?"

Yuna shifts beneath, legs relaxing enough to release the hold—allowing you to slide your cock free from the overwhelming heat.

"What's the matter, a nice, thick creampie in my tight cunt isn't enough for me to call you whatever I please?"

You're ignoring her, in as many ways as you can when you move your gaze between her thighs to admire the sight—the beautiful mess that's dripping from her pussy, so full of your hot cum. "Go home, Yuna. If that's what's you're going to keep doing, then we're fucking done here." 

"You're no fun. It's after midnight, you're not going to send a little innocent girl like me out alone like this, are you?"

Again, you ignore her, standing up from the couch in complete disarray and making a path to the bathroom instead. "I need a shower, but you can sleep on this couch you've defiled for all I care. Please be gone in the morning."

It's a bit heartless, you know, but Yuna brings out this part in you that rarely sees the light of day, when she refuses to listen. Even more so when her footsteps follow closely behind, her petite naked frame and that mess between her legs still dripping without any ounce of shame.

"God, you're such a mood killer," Yuna sighs, grabbing your wrist to pull your attention her way. "I'll stop fucking teasing you. I'll stop calling you daddy, you big fucking baby. Just let me shower with you. Please? I won't even talk. I promise."

That's a hard one to trust, given her track record. But she sounds far too exhausted to even try any tricks, pleading so hard to convince you to let her share your bed tonight. And it's hard to turn down that pout, those bright, widened eyes that stare you into submission.

"Fine. Not a single word in the shower. And if you call me that even once, Yuna, I'm never shoving my cock in you ever again. Do you understand?"

"Of course. Swear it on my life. Promise. Never ever ever—that's it."

And just like that, this look in her eyes when she steps inside the shower after you suggests she'll live up to that word. You'll see. If anything, seeing her naked under the hot steam is enough to commit to whatever terms you've created. A selfish, yet regrettable decision.

A nice, relaxing shower where this brat doesn't utter a single sound, not a single dirty comment—that's better than anything in your wildest dreams.

Things move to the bedroom, as they usually do with Yuna. The two of you are completely devoid of any clothing, because modesty with her around simply doesn't exist. She slides into the spot beside you, resting her head on your chest, delicate fingers in a relaxed grip around the length of your shaft. And you’re happy to do nothing but watch the smile on her face while she gives these magical strokes, not nearly enough pleasure to take things any further. 

"Whenever you're ready to put this big thing back inside me, let me know," Yuna says as casually as possible—as casual as someone can get while palming their hand around your cock.

But you're hesitant to leave this moment—her body curled so perfectly against yours, to the point where you can almost tolerate her. Almost. That being the important thing in all this.

"I already filled you twice today. Not enough for one night?"

"Never enough," she insists, giving a firm squeeze that makes you reluctantly agree. "Plus, you haven't filled my ass, and we both know what a huge fan I am of that.” 

"Obsessed is more the right word. You might be more into me fucking your ass than I am, and that's saying something. Like, I could live inside there."

She giggles, her delicate little fingers tracing down your shaft while she keeps stroking. "Can you blame me when I have an ass like this? You should be the one begging me instead of the other way around." 

"I'd never beg you for anything, Yuna. You're a pretty girl with a nice ass who spreads their legs on command, I don't need much more than that from you."

Yuna responds with a tug at your balls, almost painful in nature to get a point across. "Tell me that again when you want to bury your face in my ass. See if that's true then. Let's see how long you last without getting to eat my ass."

"Okay, okay—point taken."

"Not everybody gets to tongue my ass. It's a privilege."

"So lucky, my life is complete now that Shin Yuna allows me the honor of worshiping her ass." 

That makes her squeeze your cock all too hard in this agonizingly slow stroke. "My ass is fucking amazing. The only word for it, and it deserves some appreciation. I don't even let anyone else but you fuck me there."

"Why do I not believe that?"

Yuna drops a hot, open-mouthed kiss to your chest. "You don't have to believe it. I'll let half a dozen guys all have turns fucking me at once—until they cum inside me or on my face. Nobody but you gets the luxury of pounding my ass though."

“I’m touched.” 

"You should be. Every guy I fuck should be on their knees, begging me for the slightest chance to worship my body, especially my ass." 

Nobody has confidence like Yuna does, even if it's wildly inflated. As much as her very presence annoys you, it’s hard to say you could survive long without that tight ass. Whether it’s bouncing on your cock, your face, or just existing in front of your hips to have a handprint against it. That doesn't mean you'd ever drop to your knees and grovel for her, but there's no denying how much power that ass has.

"Nobody has a better ass than you, Yuna. Not even Yeji. There. Is that what you wanted to hear?" She laughs—this sinister laugh, while squeezing your cock in her tight little hand, nodding all excitedly in agreement. You know it's going to go to her head, but the alternative is much worse. "Good, now can you just jerk me off in peace?"

“Fine,” she says, with a defeated sigh. “If that's what you want. I won't make another sound. You can just relax. Pretend I'm not here. I'll just keep jerking off this nice, thick cock until you cum again." 

"Now you're getting it."

You close your eyes and appreciate the silence, knowing this might be the only time when Yuna doesn't find some excuse to run her mouth. Her hands keep busy, and god, are her hands just heaven when she's so slow and focused. The one time she doesn't say a fucking word, just pumping your cock until you're ready to explode all over her.

You don't even remember falling asleep. The last thing you remember is Yuna straddling you, riding with all the energy in the world despite her earlier exhaustion. Hair draped over her face as she bounced up and down, hips so frantic and needy, groaning while you slipped a finger to toy with her ass. And then it's all a blur. Sweet, uninterrupted slumber, and that's how you ended up like this.

But now, Yuna isn't anywhere to be seen. And you're not sure if that's a good thing or not. So, rather reluctantly, you rise from the comfort of your bed, grab a fresh pair of boxers, a clean shirt, and stumble right into the kitchen for some semblance of routine. 

The smell of coffee lingers in the air, a normally welcome start to the day. This time it's different—it's burnt. Far from the rich aroma of a good cup, the one you've brewed on your expensive coffee machine you imported just months ago. Something's amiss.

There's the culprit. Yuna is standing there, fiddling around with the machine like the controls are in a different language. She's dressed at least, kind of, barefoot in what appears to be your shirt, white and loose fitting, barely covering her delicious bare ass when she's bent over trying to figure out the buttons.

"Morning," Yuna says over her shoulder, as if completely oblivious to the damage she's caused. "Think your coffee machine is broken."

"Did you break it?"

She takes a good hard look at the machine, as if in disbelief, before turning back around. "No, not a chance. It was like this when I got here."

"Yuna, did you break my fucking coffee machine?" you ask again, in dire need of the very thing she's about to deprive you of. 

"What did I just say? It's not broken. Look, if you press this button it comes out with this weird looking water and if you do this—fuck."

This is unbelievable. As if you needed another reason to kick her out the second you're awake, because you know first hand that Yuna should never be allowed in a kitchen. Any kitchen. Not after the burnt chocolate incident. 

"Let me handle this. Before you destroy my kitchen too."

"Hey, rude—I was just trying to be helpful. But you have some weird fucking coffee maker that you need a PhD in three different languages to understand."

She takes a step back, sighing in defeat as you take over and deal with the chaos left behind. "This is why I don't have company in the morning. A pretty girl comes over and immediately tries to burn my entire place to the ground."

There's this surprised gasp that escapes from her lips as you start everything over from scratch, dumping out whatever awful concoction that was brewing earlier.

"Wait, pretty? You think I'm pretty?"

"That's what you're focusing on right now? You really are insufferable," you mutter, with Yuna's eyes fixating on you while she just beams at the compliment. A few adjustments here and there, a fresh pour of water, and the aroma of fresh coffee starts to linger, slowly clearing up the disaster zone Yuna has left behind.

"You didn't answer my question." 

You have nothing in you but an eye roll.

"Yes. You're very pretty," you finally relent, pulling down two mugs from the cabinet above. "I could do worse than waking up to that in my bed. With my ruined coffee machine."

"Hey, it's not ruined, you jerk. It's working now, isn't it?" 

For now. Not the point you want to argue about right now, because you need caffeine in your system more than you ever have. At least you can enjoy a proper cup on the balcony with Yuna, even if that means putting up with her presence. Which maybe isn't as bad as you once thought, given the eye candy alone makes it slightly tolerable. 

Days pass. Uneventful, mostly, without anything much but the occasional lewd text from Yuna at random points throughout the day. Which you'll admit, is preferable to her showing up at your place unannounced, because you think getting off to the nudes she sends without having to hear her whining in person is a much better alternative. 

It's the weekend, and you don't have anything planned that doesn't involve sleeping it all away. An hour at the gym, maybe. Catching up on laundry, cooking yourself a nice dinner—trying that new bottle of wine that's been sitting in your cabinet untouched for months.

But you’ll never get to any of that. 

"Guess who?" 

That’s all Yuna says before forcing her way into the apartment, like she's already expecting to be let in without a second thought. This bright, happy smile on her lips, strutting into the living room in a small little crop top, and these ridiculous white shorts that are tighter than they have any right to be. "I know you missed me. So I'm here to return your shirt. I washed it. Or the dry cleaning people washed it. Doesn't matter."

"Thanks. Just leave it on the counter, and then you can leave."

Yuna frowns, far more offended by this suggestion than any other you've laid out for her. "But you missed me, haven't you? So I'm going to stay for a couple of days, and you're just going to have to suck it up."

So much for peace and quiet. 

“Absolutely the hell not. Don't you have your own apartment to wreck? You're not staying here."

"Why not?" she asks, tossing your shirt on the counter, just like you said. But just as quickly, she takes a seat on the couch and makes herself entirely too comfortable. "My place is a fucking mess, and I'd rather have some company. Plus, you have that really nice bed that's a thousand times more comfortable than anything I own." 

"You're not staying," you reiterate. "Why are you even here? Did you just get done with a dick appointment, so you're coming here now? This isn't a hotel."

Yuna stretches out on the couch, not bothered in the slightest. "No. I haven't been fucked in three days. How crazy is that? We need to catch up, so I figured I would stay with you—"

"We? Try again. I'm sure there's a gangbang going down somewhere, or an orgy you can crash. I am not letting you stay."

"What, is having me in your life such a terrible fate that you'll die if you don't have a moment's peace? A hot girl on your couch and the first thing you think of is getting rid of her?"

"That's exactly right. I have things to do today. important things. Things that don't involve babysitting you."

Yuna cocks her head at you, wide-eyed. "What could you possibly have to do today that's more important than this ass? Huh? Name one thing."

This girl is the definition of exhausting. Trying to tear your attention away from her brazen attitude is harder than it should be, with her figure slumped against the back of the sofa—arms spread wide and long legs extended so invitingly. That top riding higher and higher each time she so much as breathes, offering a full view of her toned abdomen. You can't find the strength or motivation to fight this, when Yuna looks the way she does. And you're certainly no stranger to sleeping with her.

"I don't have to explain myself to you. There are a thousand things more important than giving you attention. Now get off my couch and go find someone else to annoy."

The demand only earns a childish scoff, Yuna folding her arms across her chest. "Oh come on—look, I'll be good. I'll sleep on the couch, I'll cook you breakfast and dinner and clean whatever the hell I mess up. I won't bother you. Promise."

"You're not stepping foot in my kitchen after you almost broke my coffee maker."

"Almost. Keyword, almost," Yuna adds, barely getting to the end of her sentence before standing up and making her way across the living room to your side. "If I can't cook or clean or do anything, how do you suggest I pay you back for letting me stay here, hmm?"

You clench your fists so hard while exhaling, staring daggers into this psuedo-innocent expression that doesn't have any weight behind it. Knowing damn well what those gears turning in her head have planned. 

"Don’t worry, you're not staying here. So there's no need to pay me back." A simple rejection doesn't seem to deter her. It never does. 

She’s no stranger to the word no, but it doesn’t stop her from taking another step forward. And another one, closing the distance between, almost as a test to see how far she can go before the resistance starts. Then she steps back. Only to spin around, those tempting hips and ass pressing right into the crotch of your sweatpants, using the armchair nearby like support to push a little harder. 

And when she's looking like that, the way Yuna throws that devilish look over her bare shoulder while wiggling her ass is such an easy sell, a perfect visual that causes blood to rush down towards your cock. "If you prefer, I could just pull them right off…"

Somewhere deep inside, you want this—to give up this charade and indulge yourself in every inch of her. In that ass you have memorized to every detail, in that perfect fucking cunt that's yours to taste anytime you please. But the second you give in, there's no turning back.

Because you can't keep pretending that you can control yourself around this girl. Every shred of composure you try to have is fleeting when Yuna's there offering herself up on a platter.

"Do you know how long it's been since I've had someone spank my ass? Two weeks? Maybe even three. Nobody hits harder than those big, strong hands. Nobody can put me in my place like you do. And I've been such a bad, bad girl.” 

Staring at the view presented before you, your knees feel a little weak. The things you want to do to this bratty little tease are practically limitless, sending your imagination racing when you follow the curve of her hips. Because maybe it’s about time she got what she deserves. All those handprints, her sensitive flesh just bruised by your palm, the sight of her bent over and spanked relentlessly—maybe her punishment is your reward. 

It's inevitable at this point. And the worst part is, Yuna knows this all too well.

"What are you waiting for? Spank my ass, make it yours. Make it hurt so good. Please."

That please is what does you in. Because you can picture it now, feeling the supple skin of her ass bounce under every smack of your hand, and that high pitched yelp tearing through her throat the second you really put power behind each strike.

It doesn't help those goddamn skintight shorts that hug her ass, a perfect invitation to have your way. 

You sigh under your breath. Because you’ll fold like always, giving in to those desperate pleas. If only to satisfy the lust that builds for Yuna’s tight body. The way your cock will feel buried inside her ass, while you get so rough fucking her. Until she can barely stand on her own two feet anymore.

Fuck. She knows she's already won.

"Fine. You fucking brat. But not here, not on the couch. I'll need a drink for this."

With a final look at her—looking like sin and sex on two legs, you drag her towards the kitchen to look for the strongest thing you have, looking past the bottle of wine that will have to wait. Yuna waits silently by the counter, with that same knowing look in her eye. A look that has no chance to fade even once you pop open a bottle of something to help wash the regret down.

"God, you're going to regret wearing those shorts," you tell her, not bothering with a glass and taking a huge swig straight from the bottle. And then another. 

"I don’t regret a single thing in my life. Now where's mine?" Yuna asks, pout on her lips as she ignores the fact that those shorts are coming off the first chance you get. 

"You're annoying enough sober—you don't get shit until I've had enough to tolerate you." 

She giggles. Which at this point is more infuriating than cute. "So never?" 

Yuna watches the bottle return to your lips for another long sip. You don't even deny that—instead, your eyes are glued to her shapely figure while you wait for the alcohol to kick in. 

"Give me your belt.” 

You slam the bottle down and stare straight ahead at the puzzled look on Yuna's face—but there's no objection. Instead, she complies and unfastens the clasp before sliding the white leather strip right out and handing it over without asking a thing. 

And that's when you do the honors. Unfastening the front button of those ridiculous shorts and tugging the zipper down. Her shorts are so impossibly tight that even after all that, they still take a little extra strength to tug down past the full curve of her ass. But you do manage to peel them down, staring at the tiny scrap of blue cotton and lace that hardly covers a damn thing—what those shorts are concealing beneath, this small string nestled just between her smooth, bare asscheeks. 

“Surprised you even wore panties at all today.” 

“I wore them so you’d rip them off me. It’s no fun if I don’t make you earn it first.”

That cocky little smirk doesn’t falter—not until you grab her ass like it belongs to you, fingers digging in deep, rough enough to make her squirm. Yuna wants to be manhandled, you know that already, so you squeeze harder, spread her wide and knead every inch, marveling at how much of her there is to take.

Her thong barely counts as anything, just a bright blue string that disappears between her cheeks. It's the only thing standing between you and burying deep inside.

"Fuck, I can't wait to feel your hands hurting this ass so fucking hard," Yuna groans, rolling her hips back into your grip. 

You don't respond—because now you've got your teeth hooked into the flimsy fabric of her thong. One swift tug downward snaps the thin fabric and tears right through so you can get right to that incredible ass of hers. No sooner have the scraps of her panties fallen to the kitchen floor before you've got a solid grip on each bare cheek, sinking your teeth in just enough to mark her pale flesh.

Laughing under your breath as you run fingertips across those creamy cheeks, you shake your head in disbelief. "You think I'm going to be using my hands?" you ask while picking up her discarded belt, an almost forgotten strip of leather until this exact moment.

Yuna looks back over her shoulder with the biggest grin.

"We're doing this my way.” 

Dropping your sweatpants right around your ankles for some relief, she can't help but stare at your bulge. And a smile perks up on her lips the instant she catches sight of the leather belt in your tight fist. Surprisingly, Yuna stays silent, even as you test the belt out between the palm of your hand, the crack of leather echoing around the kitchen. "You wanna get spanked? Then you're gonna get spanked. Bad girls don't get a say in this."

"Can't wait," she responds, not obedient, but almost daring as her hands clutch tight to the kitchen counter to brace for the first impact. Neither can you. 

"Eyes forward then, slut," you demand, running the leather down her skin, tracing along every curve until she has no choice but to face away. Before any warning, the satisfying crack of leather connects right against her bare ass, ripping a startled yelp from those bratty lips. A strike so forceful it jolts her body forward and leaves a light imprint on her delicate flesh. 

It puts a smile on your face when you get the same reaction. Another sharp crack cuts through the silence, right against the flesh of her ass with even much force. Another welt, another moan, as this bright red mark begins to form as the color spreads across her flesh. "M-more, please—that stings so fucking good. F-fuck, more."

The next smack sends her hips slamming back into the counter, another strangled noise coming from her mouth right as you hit her harder without thinking. “If it's too much, speak up." 

But the noise she makes is barely coherent. All you can see is the look of excitement on her face as you deliver more stinging slaps to her same cheek, over and over until you've had enough—only switching to the other for an identical treatment and marking the unblemished skin just the same.

"N-never. I love the pain, love the feeling of this belt on my ass—please keep going." Even with the crack in her voice, the smack of leather against bare skin overshadows her cries while you up the ante and show no mercy. 

Over and over with these slaps all over her cheeks, fueled by frustration with Yuna yelping each time you send the belt flying into that sore, marked skin. But she still grinds her hips back at you for more, eager for any ounce of pleasure, and every ounce of pain that comes alongside.

The entire time Yuna stays bent over, loud gasps and pathetic whines for another while these harsh spanks rain down so she can feel the sting that lingers right after. Hard enough to leave her speechless and biting back to not beg you for even worse. She grips the countertop like she'll simply fall over if she doesn't. And after a well-timed hit, you force a break that she doesn't ask for—a moment to collect herself and catch her bearings. A moment to admire the redness that's not going away anytime soon.

"Still want more?" you ask her with a tug at her hair, the belt grazing her tender skin. 

"M-more. Give me everything you fucking have," she can barely breathe out between whimpers, gripping even tighter onto the kitchen counter, so that your next hit to that reddened ass leaves behind an unmistakable imprint on those plump cheeks. "Fucking make it hurt, don't treat me like I can't take it. Harder."

You can certainly oblige her. Harder is exactly what you'll do—each vicious snap of the belt a little more relentless, no pauses between several loud cracks against that aching flesh, causing the most delectable noise as Yuna gasps every single time. Even as you step back, inspecting the artwork you've left on her backside, Yuna is far from satisfied. "I said to fucking make it hurt. But you're holding back on me, stop doing that."

Oh, let her fucking complain. Even with a burning sting on her ass, Yuna can't help but provoke you a bit further, with your grip in her hair tightening. But those slaps only come faster—each vicious hit with the leather cracks over her raw ass, moans muffled as her cheek gets pressed right up against the cold countertop. 

The belt swings wide again, hitting both cheeks at once and making them jiggle, the redness across Yuna's round little ass making a stark contrast against the pure, porcelain skin. And she hears it first before feeling it. 

Another cry of ecstasy that escapes her throat right as the belt brings about more stinging slaps, until you let the folded length of her own belt linger in the air, so she doesn't even know when the next swing will happen. You love nothing more than watching her body tense up—every single nerve on edge knowing another hard smack will come her way the second she even breathes, her reddened ass ready to receive whatever you have left in store for it.

"Like doesn't begin to describe it. I'm fucking crazy for it," she gasps out, when the belt stays far enough away that you give her some sense of relief—until it brushes over the sore, sensitive skin, making the softest touch seem worse than an outright strike. Then it cracks over her cheeks in succession, her thighs clenching together as she takes it. 

"My god, nobody has an ass like this, Shin Yuna. Nobody. Especially now with all these pretty little marks, and those noises you make when I spank you, I could listen to those all fucking day."

You put the belt down and stroke over the red welts from where you may have gone just a little too far, not that Yuna would ever object. She glances back over her shoulder with the biggest smile, even through the tears staining her cheeks.

"That’s as much as you deserve, you desperate little slut.” 

Up her body you wander, pulling her upright and stripping her of that small crop top so your hands have better access. Then straight into the clasp of her bra, cupping her tits once you’ve freed them, kneading with a little force the way you know Yuna loves. 

"I can handle so much more than this, I swear. I could take so much more," Yuna insists with another cute sniffle. The problem is, you know she can. All you have to do is glance between her thighs, and the mess on the tiles tells you enough. 

"I know you can," you breathe in her ear, hand trailing up around her throat until your fingers close tightly around it. Yuna lets out this short and sweet moan in your grasp when you apply more pressure. “But you got what you want. Now it’s my fucking turn.” 

Yuna drips at the thought. There's no sense in resisting her, no point in pretending this wasn't inevitable from the moment she had herself bent over with those tight fucking shorts. You'll give into everything she wants despite pretending to do the opposite. 

"What's that fucking word you keep calling me?" you ask her, the grip around her neck making her thighs clench even harder this time. "Go on."

"D-daddy. That's it. But you said never to—"

"Doesn't apply here. One time, this one time, use it. Use it while I'm shoving my cock in your needy little asshole, understand?"

"Yes—I fucking understand. Y-yes, daddy. Just this once."

A quick release of her throat so Yuna can turn her body in your direction, the tears in those alluring eyes yet to dry up. Your free hand palms over her ass once again, getting a nice, possessive squeeze as a reward for everything she's endured already.

"My ass fucking hurts," she says, laughing it off between shaky breaths and the occasional sniffle. "G-god, this belt fucking hurt more than your hand ever could."

"Are you complaining or bragging?" you ask as your lips meet, hot breath against one another as her slender fingers grasp against the hem of your shirt, up and off within seconds so she can slide her fingers up and down your bare chest. 

"What do you think?" 

Your boxers come off last, not even hitting the ground before Yuna is stroking your stiff cock with this playful expression on her features. Then it's in her grip the entire time you walk her down the hallway and into the bedroom. As expected, she can't keep her hands off of you for more than a second, right up to when the bed frame hits the back of her knees and the only option is falling back onto the mattress.

"God, Yuna, the things I'm going to do to you—the ways I'll ruin you." With her legs spread wide, and thighs glistening with arousal, you get to indulge in the view while Yuna plays with her clit in lazy, drawn-out circles.

“Need you in my ass, daddy—need it now. Isn't that clear?" Oh, how unexpected that she’s going to abuse the permission of that one single word. 

"I can assure you the feeling is mutual," you insist, and join her on the edge of the mattress, taking her hips and flipping her over until she's lying right on her stomach with that sore, marked ass up on display, raised up off the mattress.

She props herself up on her elbows so she’s in position, right in the center of the bed. The sight is perfection—this shameless, insatiable fucktoy, sprawled across your bed with her legs parted, knees sunk into the bed, ready and waiting for you. 

Just as she opens her mouth to say something, you bury your face into those pillowy cheeks, the tip of your tongue swirling against her tight fucking asshole.

"F-fuuuck, it's been so long since I've had your tongue in my ass, daddy," Yuna moans, your spit lubricating her puckered hole all over, the softness of her cheeks pressing deep against your face as she tries to grind back. You shove your tongue deeper, tasting, savoring everything—eating her ass like it's the only reason you let her stay here tonight. The reason why you even opened the front door.

There's nothing better than the unfiltered moans while you plunge your tongue deep into the depths of her asshole, face first against it and greedy, spreading her wide apart while you slip in, those cries of pleasure getting higher. 

You taste—no, you devour her, tongue exploring, thrusting in and out of that tight little ring that clenches around each swipe. This delicious tongue-fuck that gets better the more desperate Yuna sounds, writhing around your sheets and pushing back, all in hopes to keep your mouth where it belongs. 

"This ass belongs to me," you remind her, a harsh slap on the still reddened flesh to make the pleasure even better. 

Yuna spreads her cheeks wider so you can plunge as deep as possible, so you can hear her delicious moans as your spit covers her glistening hole. One long, sloppy lick in and out, tongue so deep in her asshole that all she can do is whimper helplessly for more. 

"D-don't act like you didn't miss this," she says, still as cocky as ever through a breathless groan of satisfaction. Your tongue teases one last time, a thumb replacing it to press into the ring of muscle that's already relaxed, seeing how easy it is to sink into.

She’s more than ready, but you need one more taste before grabbing the lube so you can slide a wet digit right inside the puckered hole of Yuna's ass—fingering her the same way you've done countless times already. 

She's tight, of course, that’s a given, but even as a finger curls inside, this grip around your finger won’t begin to compare once your cock is in the same place. Two fingers is the limit, plunging them deep enough to stretch Yuna just enough so your cock will slide right in. "Only I get to fucking pound your asshole, yeah?"

"O-oh fuck, it's only you, daddy. Nobody else, nobody but you, I promise—your cock in my ass, right where it belongs. J-just you." 

Your fingers finally pop out, and instead the slick, swollen head of your cock is pushing into the tightest, most inviting hole—one long, deep thrust right up until the base, so her asshole can swallow every last inch in a single motion. 

Yuna clutches the sheets so tight, arching her back to push that ass up into the air. She's so tight that you can't even fathom it, this delicious clench around everything stuffed to the hilt—and there's nothing like this. Nobody gets this privilege, you believe. Nobody gets to indulge in the luxury of fucking Yuna's perfect, tight little asshole. Not a single person but you gets to make her moan quite this way. 

"Stop wasting time and fuck my ass. Pound me, p-please. Don't make me fucking beg." 

So much for savoring any of it. You sink your fingers right into her ridiculous hips, gripping her harder than usual to drag her backwards onto your cock. Hard enough to force this groan out of her—so needy and pathetic in the midst when your hips meet her bare ass. A brief moment to take it all in, before sliding almost entirely back and rocking forward with full force. 

"Oh my fucking god—my ass feels so full, shit—"

She's barely breathing between words, and you don't intend on helping her out in that regard at all when you're too busy staring at her red, tender cheeks, loving how they jiggle with every rock of your hips.

“Did you expect anything else?" you ask while giving her a good, harsh slap to that same spot where red is still clear as can be. With such a good view, it's impossible to do anything other than drive deep and begin pounding her mercilessly. "A pathetic fucking slut like you deserves nothing but a rough fuck. And that's what you're gonna get." 

Yuna does little but spew moans and throw her head back when your cock buries deep in her ass. This tightness never gets old, your hips on a mission to bury in her and hit all the places Yuna loves, enough to get her drooling all over your pillows. But her asshole—as snug, warm, and irresistible as it is, you can’t fathom how hard she squeezes every time you drill forward, showing no signs of restraint.

"S-so good," she lets out through short gasps, her face buried in the pillows and her teeth biting your sheets hard. “Love when you treat me like a fucking toy, daddy—"

"Yuna, that's exactly what you are," you tell her while you're so deep in her ass it's almost overwhelming. "So tight, I'll never stop pounding you, fuck. Tightest little hole I've ever fucked."

Yuna glances over her shoulder, while you get a good, tight grip on her hair and tug so she clenches harder, with every stroke balls fucking deep—as rough as you think she needs it. Even as the sound of your cock reaming her ass echoes throughout the entire room, nothing could possibly be enough. 

Your unrelenting, deep thrusts into Yuna's asshole cause the whole damn bed to creak from the violent force of your strokes, pulling her hair harder for that extra roughness she loves. 

No break, not the slightest pause until you absolutely have to—because you could do this all day and not grow tired of the way Yuna moans or how her cheeks bounce when you slam into them. Those cheeks that you get a tight handful of—palms full, and dig your fingers in for some leverage while your thrusts turn animalistic, barely in control at this point. 

But Yuna can take it, you can see it in that fucked out expression. The pleasure written all over her features while her mouth falls open as you show her no mercy—spreading her ass just so you can marvel at your cock hammering in and out, stretched out so wide around you.

"So good, g-god, so deep, love how deep your cock goes," Yuna can barely get out, like it takes all the energy out of her. You know you're not anywhere near wearing her out, not while watching your dick destroy her asshole.

"Not enough?" 

“N-not even fucking close. Give me all you've got, come on," she pleads for in this broken, muffled whine with her face shoved so far against your sheets she can barely breathe. 

Another deep thrust, enough force behind that slams the bed against the wall, loud enough to compete with the sound of her ass slapping against your hips. And when you draw back again, you grab her delicate little wrists, pulling her arms behind her back and using them as leverage—so Yuna can't do anything at all but let her asshole get wrecked.

"More, more—keep fucking pounding my tight ass, come on. D-don't stop, daddy. You know I'm fucking addicted to this fat cock," Yuna pleads so pathetically, immobile and helpless, taking whatever comes next with her arms hostage and your cock impaling her to the hilt.

Your hips do exactly that. Fucking her ass in quick strokes until all she does is cry out for you to destroy her, and then some. Yuna takes everything, the groans and yelps when you give no chance for recovery, the thrusts so deep and noises more depraved by the second. Her wrists pinned by the small of her back so she doesn't even have the chance of touching her swollen clit.

"That cock in my ass feels so fucking amazing. Oh my fucking god, fuck me, fuck my asshole as deep as possible."

When you yank her body back, your hands stay locked around her wrists with enough force for her to gasp. But you’re too busy pummeling her ass to even get a word out—too focused on that impossible tightness wrapped around your cock, the  perfect grip around every inch like it's trying to force you to cum.

"Better get used to this, slut. My cock is going to keep wrecking your tight little ass over and over again for the next two days. And maybe even longer if you really deserve it."

Her wrists go free, only for your hands to find her delicious hips again, slamming back in and using all the momentum to crash into Yuna as hard as your body can muster—until she's pinned flat onto your mattress, trapped right under you without a single break between the thrusts that hit at a different angle. 

With your legs spread on either side of her, your torso stays flat against her naked back, keeping your weight right down over her small frame. The bed shakes each time you enter the deepest parts of her ass, every single stroke her greedy hole swallows up and demands even more than you can possibly offer. 

"That's it, j-just like that. Just keep fucking my ass, love the way that you ruin it—"

"Yuna—" You bring a harsh smack down across her reddened, sore cheek to really punctuate each thrust. "You think I wouldn’t when your ass is squeezing my cock so fucking good?"

Every bit of movement between the two of you happens right where your skin is pressed against hers—sweat on her body indistinguishable from the sweat on yours. Hands around her hips so you can keep a nice, possessive grip while you relentlessly drive forward to pound her body into your mattress, no chance of lasting much longer now. Not with the way you're drilling her, no chance at all.

And yet, you can't tear your eyes away from how her ass looks getting pounded, bouncing every time your hips make contact with the reddened cheeks of her ass.

"If you fuck me any harder, you might actually break this bed," Yuna gasps out, laughter still coming to her lips despite how ruined and breathless she is. That sounds like a good option, if you can’t help it, no matter how rough you need to be with her. Yuna is beyond that—insatiable and incapable of getting satisfied for very long at all, the way most people would. 

But that doesn't mean you won't give your all for this performance. So you get back on your knees, getting each hand full of Yuna's plump ass, sinking your fingertips as much as humanly possible to watch your cock destroy this perfect girl. 

"Then I'll keep going, until we've destroyed my entire goddamn bedroom. That's how much I love pounding your ass."

She just giggles until a moan replaces it, lost in all these noises. You won't stop, not if your legs give out from exhaustion. Every hard and deep thrust has your eyes fixed upon where your hips meet those decadent cheeks. With Yuna face down on her stomach, there’s no better view to watch how well your cock stretches her hole open. 

"You're getting there, I can feel it," she taunts. You hate that you can’t even see her face, but you know she’s grinning. Smug little brat. "Go ahead, fill this tight, little asshole. Use it until you cum."

And she just gets you so riled up, that it's inevitable, as soon as those words leave Yuna's mouth. "I cannot believe I went this long without my cock inside you. When you say it out loud, it just sounds—"

"Crazy? Come on. I know it drove you crazy. The only time you're actually fucking happy is when this big dick is buried in my ass. Not just inside some random girl who's not me, or a warm mouth who's not mine."

God, do you hate when she's right. Hate it with every fiber of your being, but you don't even have time to think about anything else, because these soft cheeks you're palming so hard is the thing that's about to break you first. That same voice that you can't stand on most days, is what helps you unravel—what brings you to that delirious edge and drives your hips with full force for these last few deep thrusts that rattle the bed. 

You start to lose full control, snapping your hips a little too fast, once, twice—before finally bottoming out with her name on your lips and erupting deep inside her ass. It's unstoppable, filling her with your thick, messy release in each deep throb when your cock pumps Yuna full, her asshole accepting it with each final burst of tightness.

"There you go, fucking cum in my ass," Yuna moans out as those harsh clenches milk everything out of you. You ride that high for as long as possible, each furious thrust pumping your seed deep inside, each hammering her body into the mattress—again and again until your balls have nothing left. 

Even after then, your hips don’t cease, fucking the rest of your load deeper inside her tight, filled hole. You can already see your release trickling out, her ass stuffed too full and overflowing with your cum already. "F-fuck, there's so fucking much, it's so thick—oh my god, daddy came so much…” 

Yuna sighs out into the silence, while you're left holding those sore cheeks to catch your breath. Both of you struggling to recover. 

"That's like, several days worth of cum in your ass," you say, dragging your spent cock out of her to get a good look, holding her cheeks spread apart as it flows in a thick mess between her thighs. Your fingers slide right into that gaping, ruined asshole, pushing back whatever cum threatens to drip out.

"Jesus, Yuna. Look at how much is spilling out. Was worried I actually broke you there for a moment when you're this tight."

"Nope. Still perfect. And it's still not enough," Yuna says, insatiable as ever. Only then do you start to peel yourself off of her, her worn-out body a complete sweat-covered mess.

“Too bad. You fucking drained me dry, you greedy slut."

Yuna laughs, and when she rolls over on her back to face you, she's the image of perfection: hair matted all against her forehead with sweat, makeup a bit smeared, her lips and cheeks redder than usual—ruined but still absolutely stunning.

“Like you could ever run out. Not when I'm around…” 

Yuna shifts right in front of you until she's directly in front of your gaze and kneeling between your legs. She smiles up at you and her mouth gets right back on your throbbing, sensitive cockhead. Each obscene slurp makes it a little harder to convince yourself that she shouldn't be staying for the weekend, because you might not ever let her leave. While not a day goes by without you hating her guts, not a day goes by without wanting to pin her up against a wall and fuck her senseless.

Her mouth slides deep, cleaning off everything, and her lips, her tongue running against the slit, and the cute expression the whole time, god—this girl is going to be the death of you.

She drags her tongue in slow, gentle swipes around the head, sucking every single drop clean and looking for more. There's not a single bit of reluctance—her wet mouth eagerly cleaning up your shaft in long strokes. Then she slides both hands around your hips and shoves you back, knocking you off balance until you hit the mattress. Yuna doesn’t give you a second to recover, already between your legs again. 

Now you're the helpless one, that hot little mouth working to fit the entire thick length down her throat. You don't even care about the overstimulation, not with this view of Yuna bobbing her head, those lips sealed tight. 

"Fuck, you’re crazy—“ you let out, running fingers through her messy hair, while Yuna ignores you and devours your spent cock, balls deep down her throat until she gags the slightest bit.

"You love it, though. Because it means you’re gonna fuck me harder now.” 

Maybe you do regret ever opening the door for her and letting her inside your apartment to ruin her. Or maybe you're the one ruined instead. You're not entirely sure at this point. 

"You're gonna have to wait, not everything is at full capacity yet." Yuna cocks her head to the side, stopping her full strokes so she can crawl up and get comfortable on top of you, until you're face to face, inches apart. 

"Daddy got too worn out pounding my ass? Is that my fault?"

All you have the energy for is to brush away strands of her disheveled hair out of the way, so you can stare at her gorgeous face. "Yes. And you can stop calling me that. One time thing, remember?"

Yuna giggles. "No—one time won't be enough. You know I like saying it."

You can’t even hide the sigh that escapes. But you should have known better, you suppose, for letting the floodgates open and allowing her that one time. Now you'll never hear the end of it, and it's going to be rolling off her lips the next time she begs you to fuck her again.

"You'll never listen to anything I say ever, will you?"

You already know the answer to that. But you’ll still indulge in her lips, this unexpected soft kiss after all the roughness. After all the debauchery of tonight, it’s what you both need. 

"Definitely not," Yuna replies, eyes wide and bright. “You’re just gonna have to find a way to shut me up—daddy."

You hate that word with a passion, you'd hate it if you were to hear anyone else say it to you—but for some reason, hearing that coming from those pouty lips, you hate even more that you might grow to love it the same amount. "You get to stay the weekend, and not a minute longer. Got it?"

There's this knowing glint in her eyes, all too confident that you'll break and think otherwise. "Don't be so sure about that. After one more night, you'll be begging me to stay an entire month. Begging me."

A roll of your eyes, and a laugh that’s far too loud escapes, because in truth, she's most certainly right. It's this push and pull between wanting her far away and wanting her around more than ever.

"Yuna, don't push your fucking luck," you warn, the last remnants of trying to distract from the truth.

"It's a little late for that, don't you think? I've pushed far past my limit. Might as well just start moving my things here."

That's a step too far. You'll fuck her brains out as many times as she needs, you'll even allow her to sleep in your bed for as many nights as she wants. This is already too domestic for your liking, but the thought of her staying here without giving you a moment's break? You'd rather perish.

"Absolutely fucking not. Don't even joke about that, Yuna."

"I was kidding," she insists, playing with the locks of your hair, not bothered at all by the agony on your face. "I'm here to get dicked down, that's it. I don't need to take over your whole apartment just to make sure my asshole is stretched." 

"Jesus, Yuna. Why the fuck are you so—"

"Insatiable? Hot? Good at deepthroating you until you explode down my throat? Because it's fun to see you get so flustered, daddy." 

Another one slips past her lips. You're just going to have to live with it at this point, she's so obsessed getting a reaction out of you, and you make it so easy for her. "Fuck off, I do not get flustered. And you need to stop saying that."

"No fucking chance. I'm going to call you that every single time you pound me. I'm going to scream it while you shove my face into your pillows and fuck the shit out of me, while you fold me up and choke me, get me on my knees and gag me until I'm drooling—"

"Yuna, I am not fucking you for at least another hour. Maybe even two."

"That's fine. We don't have to fuck at all, because my ass still fucking hurts,” she says, letting out a noise somewhere near a giggle and a sigh all at once. “I'm going to feel those welts you left on me forever, that belt made my ass so fucking sore that I'm surprised I can even walk. Just thinking about it makes me fucking drip—“

"Could you be any bigger of a slut than you already are?" 

Yuna shakes her head, this soft smile as if your insults only spur her on, as they seem to do. "Never. Not even if I tried." 

[rafayelxsylusho]

imagine xav x mc x caleb throuple sex …. them being jealous and frustrated when two guys tried to hit on their girl at the beach and they fuck it all out on her

I just noticed I didn't have Xavier in the "At the same damn time" fics 😯.

I hope you like it ☺️

The update for The land of no return series is next.

⭐Melting point🍎

Tw: smut

You flash the guys in front of you your most charming smile, laughing at their jokes as you subtly angle your body to keep Xavier and Caleb in your peripheral vision. Their stares don't go unnoticed, and you can practically feel the jealousy radiating off them from across the beach. But you act oblivious, continuing your flirtatious banter with the two men, enjoying the little thrill of making Xavier and Caleb a bit jealous.

After a few more minutes of friendly conversation, you excuse yourself and start walking towards Xavier and Caleb. As you approach, their expressions morph from jealousy to possessive.

Stopping in front of them, you tilt your head coyly, batting your lashes. "What are you two scowling about?" you ask innocently, acting as if you have no idea about the effect you just had on them. "Is everything okay?"

You can sense the tension crackling between the three of you. But you simply look at them waiting on their reaction to your little game. Little do they know, you live for moments like these, the thrill of pushing their buttons and the retaliation that's sure to follow.

You grab your tropical cocktail from Xavier's hand, the ice cubes clinking against the glass as you bring it to your lips. The sweet, fruity taste of pineapple and rum dances on your tongue as you take a long, slow sip.

With no answer from them you walk back to your beach chair, as soon as you are setting your glass down on the small side table you hear Xavier ask  "Did you have fun?"

Turning your body, you lie on your stomach deliberately arching your back to expose the skimpy backside of your bikini bottoms. The fabric stretches over the curve of your ass, the edges of your cheeks peeking out teasingly. You can feel the warm sun caressing your exposed skin, but it's nothing compared to the intensity of Xavier's gaze as he stares at your tempting display.

"Nope," you reply, voice dripping with false innocence. The single word hangs heavy in the air between you, a provocation and a challenge all in one.

"How about we go back to the hotel so you can wear something else."

You turn your head slowly to face Caleb, your long hair falling over your shoulder as you meet his eyes. A tiny smirk plays at the corners of your mouth as you respond to his suggestion.

"I really like this bikini," You emphasize each word, drawing out the syllables as if savoring the taste of them on your tongue. It's like you are daring him to do something about his obvious disapproval.

Turning back to face forward, you make a show of adjusting your bikini top. You can feel the weight of their stares, the hunger in their eyes as they watch your every move.

Xavier steps closer, invading your personal space as he leans down, his face mere inches from yours. "You and every other guy around here seems to like it too. Maybe a little too much."

Shrugging you let out a soft scoff. "So?" you ask.

You knew all too well about their love hate relationship with your bratty attitude and it only spurred you on.

Rolling on your side, you prop yourself up on one elbow, facing both men directly.

"What's the matter, boys? Can't handle a little friendly chat?" You taunt, lips curling into a teasing grin. Your eyes dance between their tense faces, reveling in the jealous frustration you see there.

Caleb leans down and presses a soft towel into your hands. "Here, wrap this around yourself"

You glance down at the towel, then back up at Caleb "But I don't feel cold," you reply, keeping your tone playful yet stubborn, and make no move to take the towel from him

Xavier sighs loudly, his patience clearly wearing thin. He leans in close again, so close you can feel his breath against your ear. "Either you wrap that towel around your body, or I'll bend you over this chair to spank that attitude out of you and give those guys a bigger show than you already have."

You let out a soft, tinkling laugh. "What makes you think I wouldn't like that? Maybe I want them to watch..."

As the words leave your lips, you suddenly realize that you may have taken things a step too far, pushing them closer to their breaking points.

So you sit up slowly and swing your legs over the side of the chair. Standing up, you fix your bikini bottoms and adjust the straps of your top.

'I think I'm going to enjoy the rest of our time here before we head back to the hotel," you say, grabbing your sunglasses and slipping them on your face.

With a flip of your hair over your shoulder, you turn and start walking towards the water's edge, putting an extra sway in your hips. You know they're watching you, their eyes glued to your every move. The sand is warm beneath your bare feet as you approach the shoreline, the waves lapping gently at the sand.

You glance back at them over your shoulder, eyes hidden behind your sunglasses, a teasing smile on your lips. "Aren't you two coming?"

⭐🍎⭐🍎⭐🍎⭐🍎⭐🍎⭐🍎⭐

"Caleeeeb..."Why are you doing it like that?

You are spread out luxuriously on the hotel bed, your bikini long since discarded and forgotten on the floor. Caleb's hands grip your thighs, holding them apart. His mouth moves over your folds, tongue swirling sooooo slowly on your clit, as if he has all the time in the world. He takes his time, savoring every inch of your skin, tracing the delicate contours of your femininity with a maddeningly slow thoroughness.

The minutes tick by and your frustration grows, back arching off the bed, fingers gripping the sheets beneath you. You can feel the pleasure building, but it's too slow, too teasing, and not nearly enough to satisfy the need within you.

You toss your head back against the pillows, hips squirming beneath him. "Stop making out with my pussy"

Caleb simply chuckles and lifts his head just enough to flash you a grin, then he parts your folds with his fingers and spits directly on your exposed clit. You gasp at the sudden stimulation and his saliva mingles with your arousal. The slick, warm fluid trickles down between your ass cheeks.

Suddenly Xavier whispers against the shell of your ear, the deep timbre of his voice making the hair on the back of your neck stand on end  "What did we say about sassing?"

Caleb's fingers dig into the soft flesh of your thighs, gripping you tighter as he holds you in place.

"You have two options y/n, you can be quiet and take what we give you..."

As Xavier speaks, you feel the flat of his tongue drag slowly over the peak of your nipple, the wet muscle teasing with gentleness. It draws a sharp gasp from your throat

"So soft" he whispers.

"Or?" you breathe out, your voice trembling slightly

"Or... I will find something to shove inside that bratty mouth and take what we want anyway. What will it be?"

You quickly clamp your mouth shut, a soft whimper escaping your lips.

"Good girl," Xavier praises, the words are barely out of his mouth before you feel the sharp sting of his teeth sinking into your nipple.

A gasp catches in your throat, threatening to spill over into a moan, but you bite your lip hard to stifle it.

Caleb seems to be rewarding your obedience choosing that moment to run the tip of his tongue from your entrance to your clit several times. Then he pushes a finger inside your core, curling and stroking a sensitive spot.

You can no longer hold back the needy sounds building in your throat. A moan escapes your lips, the pleasure overwhelming your previous resolve to stay quiet.

"Caleb, please..." you hear yourself beg "More, I need more..." Your hips buck against his hand, trying to take his finger deeper as your walls clench greedily around it.

"She sounds so sweet when she begs, doesn't she Caleb?"

You feel Xavier's fingers tightening around your breast, squeezing your flesh. Your nipples harden further under his touch, aching for more of his dominant caress.

"Do it again," Xavier commands, "Beg for it, and we'll make you feel good." He licks your nipple again and Caleb adds a second finger, pumping them in and out of your pussy with a steady rhythm.

You feel your orgasm building, that coil of pleasure winding tighter and tighter in your core. A breathless smile plays on your lips as you realize the power you hold, even as these two men have you pinned and at their mercy, the knowledge that you somehow have them wrapped around your finger only adds to your arousal.

"God, you are such a fucking brat," Xavier growls "All you had to do was behave yourself, and we would have fucked you the way you deserve" 

Caleb adds a third finger, stretching you further, Xavier fingers pinch and roll your other nipple in time with the thrusts of Caleb's hand.

Your hips buck wildly, rolls only making it halfway through completion "I'm gonna... Fuck, Xav..."

Just as you feel the sweet oblivion of your climax approaching, heaven within reach, and your soul poised to soar through those celestial doors...

You open the doors to heaven, but you don't get to walk in.

Because just as the first wave of your orgasm hits both men stop. Cold air hits your pussy as Caleb abruptly removes his mouth and fingers, leaving you empty and desperate.

Xavier grabs your arms, gripping them tightly as he pins them above your head, preventing you from moving, from seeking more of that glorious friction. Your orgasm, once promising to be earth shattering, fizzles out into a mere flicker, leaving you whimpering and squirming.

"Did you really think, after today, that you deserved to cum so fast?" Caleb mocks. "You haven't earned that pleasure, brat."

Tears of frustration prick at the corners of your eyes as you stare up at them, your chest heaving with ragged breaths. Your body is a live wire of sensation, every nerve ending screaming for more, for release, but they've stolen that from you.

"If you wanted to be touched, you just needed to ask," Xavier reminds you. His grip on your arms tightens briefly, a warning and a promise all in one. "We saw how those fuckers were looking at you, like a piece of meat, a prize to be won. But you don't belong to them, do you?"

Caleb leans in and whispers, "No, you belong to us. So next time, remember this is what happens when you don't ask nicely for what you want."

Trembling and sensitive you begin to move your hands to cover your naked body, but before you can Caleb sits up, effortlessly lifting you up placing you on his lap, your legs straddling his thick thighs as he holds you up.

You look up at him, confusion in your eyes as you mumble, "I thought... we were done?"

He shifts his hips slightly, and you feel the hard length of his cock slide through your folds, the head catching on your entrance. "Oh princess," he murmurs "That was just a warning. Now comes the lesson."

He squeezes your waist tightly, his fingers digging into your soft flesh as he starts to push you down on his cock. Your eyes widen and you let out a choked gasp as you feel his girth stretching you open, the thick head pushing past your entrance.

Your head spins and when he starts to sink you lower, you feel something that always makes your mind go completely blank, the cold metal of his piercings.

He starts counting as he pushes you down "One... Two... Three..." You're not sure if he's counting each inch of his large cock as it disappears inside you, or if he's marking the way your pussy swallows up each of his piercings.

Your walls flutter and clench, trying to adjust as Caleb continues. "Five... Six... Seven..."

Then he gives your waist one last firm push, sheathing that final inch of his pierced cock deep inside you. When your ass presses against his thighs and your hips align, he finishes counting "Eight."

His hands grip your hips, holding you in place as he starts to roll his hips slowly, working his cock in slow circles. "This is how it feels to be ours"

You let out a shaky moan when you feel Xavier's hands squeeze your breasts from behind. Driven by instinct and desperation, you find yourself rolling your hips, grinding your ass against the length of his cock .

Xavier's voice is a warning growl in your ear as he feels your teasing movements. "Don't be greedy, bunny, If you keep pressing your ass against my dick like that, I'm going to fuck it."

Caleb, still fucking you so very slowly whispers "Careful what you wish for Pip, Xavier's not as gentle as I am. He might just take what he wants"

But you're too far gone, lost in a haze of sensation and desperation, to heed the warning in their voices. The words spill from your lips before you can stop them, fast and breathless.

"And that would be a problem, why?" you ask, rolling your hips, deliberately grinding your ass against his erection one more time.

"Because, once he starts, he won't stop until he's emptied every last drop of his cum deep inside your ass" he gives a sharp thrust, grinding his pelvis against yours, making you cry out, "and right now, your little cunt is too busy milking my cock to take much more."

"Is that what you want?" Xavier asks, "To be fucked until you can't walk straight?"

Your breathless whisper of affirmation is all it takes to shatter the last of Xavier's restraint. He spits crudely into his palm, coating his fingers with saliva. Before you can process the lewd gesture, he's pressing the slick fingers against your back entrance.

His eyes are dark with lust as he watches Caleb's cock disappear between your wet folds, your walls clinging greedily to every inch of his length. "Tell me, Y/N, do you deserve it?"

You're too desperate with need to lie, so the truth tumbles from your lips in a plea. "I don't," you admit, your voice breaking on a moan as Caleb's buries his cock to the hilt again "But I need you right now, Xav, please!"

Xavier's pupils dilate and without warning, he presses the head of his cock against your back entrance. Your body instinctively clenches, your hole squeezing down on the intrusion.

But jealous Xavier is anything but gentle, so with a single thrust, he buries himself inside your ass, not stopping until his heavy balls press against the underside of your cheeks. The sudden, intense stretch has you crying out, your back arching as your fingers scrabble at Caleb's chest for support. 

"FUCK!" you scream, feeling split open, stuffed so full of hard, pulsing cock that you swear you can feel them in your throat.

Xavier swears under his breath, pressing his forehead against your shoulder "Fuck, Caleb"

"What?"

"I can feel your fucking piercings"

Caleb's hands squeeze your ass and spreads the cheeks apart as he starts to thrust again and says "Your welcome"

Desperation claws at your insides as you clench down on their cocks, feeling every ridge and vein, every piercing and throbbing pulse. You can't form a coherent thought beyond the need for them to move, to claim you, to use you.

"Xav," you whimper, your nails digging into Caleb's skin. "I need you to move, please!" Your hips move between them, seeking more of that intense fullness.

He's testing his control, ensuring he won't embarrass himself by cumming on the spot the second he starts to move. After a few tense heartbeats, he seems satisfied that he can hold back, if only just barely.

"Hold on to Caleb and remember I love you," he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin. "Because in about five seconds, it will feel like I don't."

With that ominous warning, he starts to move, pulling his hips back until just the tip of his cock remains inside. Then, with a hard snap of his hips, he slams back into you, burying his length deep inside your ass.

The sensation of being so impossibly stretched steals your breath away, leaving you gasping and panting. Your mouth falls open, desperate for air as each of their thrusts drives the oxygen from your lungs.

Caleb takes advantage of your open mouth, leaning in to catch your lower lip between his teeth. He tugs on it gently before releasing it and flicking his tongue out to lave over the sensitive skin, soothing the sting of his nip.

"You wanted to be fucked stupid, princess?"

You don't answer, you can't. Not when the two of them are fucking you like that

"We're getting there...she just lost her ability to talk"

Xavier throws his head back, the tendons in his neck stand out, his muscles coiled and flexing as he chases his pleasure, lost in the tight, silken heat of your ass.

You're sandwiched between them, a willing victim to their lust, your body a plaything for them to use for their satisfaction. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mixing with your desperate moans and their harsh pants and groans.

Your body is wracked with sensation, every nerve ending screaming with a dizzying mix of pleasure and pain. Tears stream down your face as you cry out, "I can't take it anymore!"

Xavier leans down, his lips brushing your ear "Yes, you can, stubborn thing. Look at how well you're doing right now."

Caleb reaches down, gripping your thighs tightly. With a sharp tug, he pulls your legs further apart, opening you wider to them. The new angle has Xavier's cock driving even deeper into your ass.

The pleasure is so intense that it blurs the line with pain, leaving you dizzy and disoriented. You can't distinguish one from the other anymore, only knowing that you're drowning in them.

 

"It's too good, it's too much... I'm about to...Xav"

"You don't need my permission, bunny. Don't hold back now."

"Caleb..."

Feeling your body shaking between them, he murmurs words of encouragement "Go ahead, Pip. Come for us, I'll be right there with you"

With a swipe of his finger against your swollen clit, Caleb sends you hurtling over the edge. Your scream tears through the room, your body convulsing violently as your orgasm crashes over you. Tears pour down your face, vision going white as pleasure detonates behind your eyes.

Your nails rake down Caleb's chest, leaving red lines in their wake as you ride out the aftershocks of your orgasm. You can feel Xavier's rhythm start to falter, his thrusts growing erratic as he chases his own release.

Caleb's hands grip your hips tightly, holding you in place as he slams up into your spasming cunt, his own orgasm building rapidly. You can feel his cock growing impossibly harder.

"Fuck!" Caleb moans, his eyes squeezing shut as the first hot, thick spurt of his release paints your cervix.

"Shit, I'm close too," Xavier pants harshly "Don't you dare fucking stop, Caleb!"

Xavier's balls draw up tight, his impending release coiling hot and heavy. With a scream of your name that echoes off the bedroom walls, he hilts inside your ass one last time, his cock pulsing as it begins to erupt. 

Completely spent, you collapse against Caleb's body. Limbs trembling and face nuzzled into the crook of his shoulder as you try to catch your breath.

After a long moment, you start to giggle, a breathless, incredulous sound that turns into a full blown laugh. Caleb looks down at you, his eyes crinkling with amusement as he takes in your expression.

Still giggling, you tilt your head to meet his gaze "You two need to get that jealousy under control."

His brows furrow as he cups your chin "We don't want you talking to guys like that anymore," he states firmly, his thumb brushing over your lower lip in a gesture that's almost tender, if not for the underlying demand in his tone.

"You can't just order me..."

"We can and we will, see that's where you are wrong bunny, it's our cum filling you up right now. Not theirs" Xavier hips roll lazily against your ass, stirring his release inside you.

"You are ours."

[hrrtshape]

i am finally at financial peace and my 3d is bullshit!!!!!!!!!!!. or how i climbed my sisyphean mountain. or manifestation success story!!!!!!!!!! because i know people need loa blogger to show their results!!!!

emmanation. listen. i know after today some of you were looking at me like. oh. she's hit the limit. this is the peak. how could it possibly get better than balenciaga and multiple rounds of free café crème. and to that i say: babies of mine. don't tempt fate. of course it can get better. of course it will. that's literally the whole point of me being on this app. i’m everyone’s fairy godmother.

so. context: we splurged. a few monsters. maybe you saw the earlier post. but here's the part you don't know. just under two years ago, my mom's bakery empire lwk collapsed lol. roman republic style. one minute we were doing tasting menus for private chefs, the next i'm shoplifting m&ms because the cashier's back was turned and my lunch was a moral question. my mom had to start a whole new business from actual scratch. we're talking: me skipping school to crack ten dozen eggs. me piping gluten-free mille feulle at midnight. me doing admin work while covered in flour and let me be real, businesses don't exactly pull louis vuitton profits in year one. and yet.

last year for my birthday i had ice cream. no cake. i paid for my own lunch. and i smiled through it because what else do you do. this year? i got a 2.5k louis bag. limited edition. last one in paris. you tell me if that's a manifestation win.

(also yes. i've shifted. fifteen times since like. late jan. early feb. but with shifting it’s hard to PROVE???? it???? so here’s my manifestation success story lol because at least my cr is tangible.)

and before anyone asks why i'm not permashifting. the answer is obvious. my mom. she's in all my drs, yes. she's always fine there. but i can't leave her here yet. i just can't. not while there's still rent. not while i can still help. i don't care how many authors i am in how many timelines, she's my person.

and this matter to me. because. like. not just for the receipts. not just for the bag, i can get one in my drs lol. not even for the fact that the saleswoman said “this is the only one in-store in paris left” and my mom still said yes.

it matters because this is still my…………i dont know. not original place, but the place i’m in. the one i always woke up in. the one with the same street corners and same bank account passwords and same people who think change is slow or conditional or maybe not even possible. and i needed, needed!!!!!!!!!!! to prove that it is. that you can turn it all around with nothing but the words in your head. not a job, not a plan, not a miracle, just the assumption that it’s already done.

because i’ve been wanting a bag like this since i was like ten when i first saw regina george waltz around with that pink lv sakura bag. before i even knew what loa was. before shifting. before i could spell balenciaga properly. and when i started affirming it, when i started saying it’s mine over and over and over, it didn’t make sense. not with our finances, not with our timeline, not with what we had left in savings. like it shouldn’t have worked. but it DID. because i didn’t flinch. i said “it’s mine” even when it looked like a joke, even when we walked into the store with maybe zero intent to buy, even when the price tag could’ve said dream on.

and then it happened, and not because i had shifted or because i worked hard. or that i deserved it. but because i assumed. i decided it was mine and everything else rerouted.

so no. this isn't me going “yay look at my hauls!!!” this is me going: this is the chapter where i realise reality really does melt if you keep poking it. i’m telling you because it’s real. you don’t have to wait, you don’t have to earn. you just have to assume. and keep assuming even when the world says you’re dumb for it. especially then. that’s when it’s working.

and i only started understanding loa properly-properly like. three months ago? and already the dominoes are going down!!!!!!!!!!i'm telling you!!!!!!!it's not about how. you already know how. the part you're scared of is doing it without flinching, so do it. don't wait for it to feel holy. don't wait to be worthy. just assume. it's so much closer than you think, i promise, i really, really promise.

[melodyofmbaku]

Touch of a Woman (Elijah "Smoke" Moore x Annie)

Preview: “Annie, laughing at another man’s touch... And just the thought alone made Smoke sick to his stomach."

Warning ⚠️: sorry in advance

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N Wheeewww. I haven't done something like this in a while. Hope you like it. I really appreciate your comments/reblogs, it's what keeps me writing. Can't wait to hear what ya'll think! 😘 My Masterlist __

The invitation came in a stiff white envelope with gold trim and Smoke’s full name printed on the front like he was somebody important.

Elijah Moore.

An old acquaintance from Chicago — one of those slick-talking men who still called him “Big E” — was throwing a formal dinner and ball just outside town.

Society folk. Wine glasses so thin they looked like they’d shatter from a hard look. Smoke hadn’t planned on going. But the man insisted. Said he wanted both of them there.

That’s when the fight started.

It wasn’t loud at first — just a look from Annie when the name was mentioned. A tightness in her mouth when she asked, “So… this friend of yours. He the same one you used to run with your Chicago crowd?”

Smoke didn’t answer right away. And that silence was all she needed.

“I ain’t never hear you mention this man before.”

“Annie, we was boys,” Smoke said, shrugging off his shirt. “Ain’t seen him in years.”

“But clearly ya’ll close enough for you to get an invitation. Funny.”

Smoke exhaled. “What’s funny?”

“That every time I turn around, there’s some part of your past I ain’t never heard about. And now I’m expected to smile pretty and shake hands with folk who think I don’t belong in the same room?”

He turned to her. “Ain’t nobody said that.”

“They don’t gotta say it. It’s in how they look at me.”

Smoke stepped forward, voice low. “You think I’d bring you somewhere you didn’t belong?”

“That’s not the point,” she snapped. “ I know I belong. It’s just exhausting havin’ to prove it.”

Smoke’s jaw worked. “Annie—”

“I seen the way you talk when you’re with them. Straighter posture. Less drawl. Like you gotta prove something.”

He swallowed. “That ain’t fair.”

“No, you a man who had a life before me. And that life’s gonna be there in that ballroom. That’s fine. I can handle it. But don’t expect me to smile while I’m bein’ measured.”

He didn’t have an answer. So he didn’t speak. He just watched her gather herself. The tension swelling in the room.

“We don’t have to go.”

“I’ll go,” she said finally, looking at her shoes. “I’ll play nice. I’ll wear the dress and I’ll eat the food and I’ll do the dance.”

Her voice dropped then — more vulnerable than she meant it to be.

“But don’t you dare act like I’m crazy for feelin’ what I feel.”

And Smoke didn’t respond. Just shut down.

They got dressed in silence. Shared a ride in silence. And now here they were — walking into the ballroom, with smiles that didn’t reach their eyes.

___

The room sparkled in soft golds and low voices, the kind of place where everything smelled like money. Annie looked like she belonged — radiant in a deep plum dress, hair pinned to perfection, chin lifted with that sharp, self-made grace.

But her stomach was tight. The heat hadn’t left her all evening, and the champagne did little to cool it.

The two had parted a bit earlier after doing their rounds. Annie with a few ladies she met near the restroom and Smoke to the man who called out to him obnoxiously across the room “I know that ain’t who I think that is!”

It had been some time and she was looking for her anchor. 

She turned her head — her eyes searching the room — and stopped cold.

There he was. Smoke. Near the far end of the room, framed by marble pillars and candlelight.

And across from him, smiling like memory never faded, stood Delilah.

Green satin. Long lashes. Too-close posture.

Annie couldn’t hear a word, but she didn’t need to. Delilah’s hand touched his coat sleeve, light and deliberate. Smoke didn’t move. Didn’t push her away. Just stood there.

Just fuckin’ stood there.

Annie’s throat went dry. Her grip tightened around the stem of her glass.

From across the room, it looked like something private. Something kept.

She didn’t watch long enough to see what came next. Didn’t give him the chance.

She turned.

Walked away.

And the rest of the night passed like the taste of something bitter — stuck in the back of her throat no matter how many times she swallowed.

__

As they entered the house, Annie set down her purse and slipped off her shoes.

“Well, she was real pretty. Real refined. Bet it brought back memories.”

“I didn’t know she’d be there.” Smoke said.

They’d reserved their argument for when they got home. Wanted to spare the cab driver's ears.

He had 40 minutes in the car to formulate an explanation as to why he was talking to his ex girlfriend at the party and that's what he came up with? He was cooked.

“We ain’t even made up from earlier. You barely said ten words to me. And then here she comes — all soft smiles and shared history. Ya’ll get a quickie in the broom closet too?”

Smoke shot her a look.

“Don’t start. You had an attitude before we even got there. This ain’t got nothing to do with Delilah and you know it.”

“Bet you were happy to see her. Your favourite city girl.” She scoffed. 

Smoke noticed it under all that anger, there was a thread of insecurity. 

He sighed deep. 

“Annie. I can’t help that I had a life — a woman —before you.”

“I’m sorry that people got to experience a different version of me, I can’t do nothing about that.” 

She spun on her heel quickly. Heat in her eyes. 

“I ain't talking about people. I’m talking about her.”

Smoke still stood his ground and refused to fight fire with fire. 

“Ain’t no her. I ain’t seen the woman in 7 years Annie and the fact that we talking about this in our home right now is insane.” 

He started towards her. Fingers flexing lightly. He wanted to hold her. Tell her she hadn’t a thing to worry about. 

She stopped him before he got close with a hand. “You stay right there.”

Smoke nodded to himself, once but kept his distance.  A shift passed over him — the soft gave way to something sharper. His mouth pressed into a line, and when he spoke again, the edge was back.

“No woman can hold a candle to you. You ain’t weak. You got nothing to be jealous about. I’m yours. I’m right here!” he beat his chest.

She looked at him almost shocked. 

“Wow.”She laughed bitterly. “That’s what you think this is? Cheap jealousy?”

She shook her head softly before responding. 

“Elijah I’m not mad because you ran into her, I’m mad because…”

She paused before she said the words that broke Smoke's heart into pieces. 

“You let her touch you like she still had a right to.” Her hands shook as she gripped the vanity behind her. 

“Like you ain’t belong to another. You ain’t see anything wrong with that?” She asked.

Now this? This — Smoke could understand. 

He reached out to her once more and she snatched her hand away from him.  

“She touched you.”

Her voice broke. 

“And you’re mine.”

The room went still.

He swallowed. The hurt in her voice hit him in his chest. It wasn’t just about Delilah — it was about him.

“I want you to put yourself in my shoes Elijah.” She started. 

“Another man, with his hands on me. You’d sleep well after that?” She pointed a finger at him. 

She was getting heated again. 

“That image won’t flash behind your eyes everytime you close them? It won’t sow a seed of uncertainty in you?”

Smoke didn’t answer right away.

But the truth crept in — heavy and hot. The picture she painted etched itself behind his eyes: Annie, laughing at another man’s touch, her hand on his chest, her eyes soft.

And just the thought alone made Smoke sick to his stomach.

She saw it land.

“So yeah, maybe it's me. Maybe I’m weak, but if being strong like you means I let people mess with what's mine and I gotta be cool with it? Then I don’t wanna be like you at all.”

He took a step closer, real slow.

“You think I belong to anybody but you?” he asked, voice rough, worn.

Annie didn’t answer. She just looked away.

He exhaled hard, pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You ain’t gotta fight for me,” he said, softer now. “You already won." He sought out her eyes. "Baby, I'm right here."

“She touched you,” she said, voice cracking and eyes watering. “And you let her. You didn’t move. You didn’t even look uncomfortable.”

“I didn’t even notice,” he said honestly. “I swear to you, baby. I didn’t notice. I’m sorry.”

Annie swallowed, her voice low and cutting.

“Right. Just muscle memory then.”

Smoke stood there, fists clenched at his sides. He had been keeping himself at bay. Swallowing his anger. Trying. Apologizing. And she’d have none of it. 

Smoke exhaled sharply and stepped back.

Then, without a word, he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small, wrapped parcel. Set it gently on the table between them.

“Here,” he said. “This is what she gave me.”

Annie blinked, not moving. She looked up at him accusatory manner.

"Whats this?" she snarked.

“Open it.”

With shaky hands, she untied the twine and peeled back the cloth. Inside, nestled in paper, was a small muslin pouch — familiar, fragrant.

Sweet balm.

The note underneath read:

“For your lady. Knew she’d need it. You’re lucky, E. Don’t mess this up. —Langston”

Annie stared at it, blinking slowly. Her lips parted, the words not quite coming.

“That’s what she handed me,” Smoke said, voice flat. “That’s what you saw.”

She didn’t move.

Smoke spoke low. “Langston was supposed to bring it from Chicago. I asked him to get it. For you. He got shot last week. Couldn't travel. Sent it down with her.”

Her fingers hovered over the pouch.

“I didn’t even ask her directly,” he said. “She just handed it off. Told me to give you her best.”

Annie’s breath stuttered. The guilt landed heavy.

And that’s when Smoke’s voice changed — quieter, rawer.

She started towards him but it was his turn to keep her away. He shook his head no and took a step back. 

He nodded, more to himself than her.

Smoke stepped back once more and pointed at her.  “You think I’d let another woman put her hands on me — for no reason?”

Annie’s throat bobbed, her fingers twitching on the twine.

Her eyes stayed on the note even as something sharp — shame or sorrow — pulled at her ribs.

“You said you liked that balm from Miss Halloway’s shop. The one you used to buy before from upstate. You been rationin’ it. Thought it might make you feel good to have it again.”

Her arms fell to her sides.

And Smoke saw it—that flicker of realization. The regret. The dawning ache in her eyes as her gaze landed on the envelope with her name on it.

He waited, watching her crumble. But he didn’t soften.

“You wanna know what I find funny?” His voice stayed level, but there was heat beneath it. 

“You stay making all this noise about the person I used to be. About how filthy my lifestyle was to you. And I ain’t say nothing. I took it.”

“But the man I was in Chicago? That’s the same Smoke I am now. Maybe a little softer. But the same damn man. That life — that work, those people — it shaped me. It gave me the spine to stand up for you now.”

“And maybe that’s the problem. Maybe you don’t want that version of me.”

He shook his head slowly. 

“I love this life we built. The domestic shit. I really do. I ain’t never been this happy.”

He looked down before looking her in the eyes. “But that don’t mean I don’t carry everything I used to be in my back pocket.”

“I ain’t never dragged up your past like this. I ain’t never ask you to explain that broken engagement. I ain’t never made you pick apart the pieces of who you used to be. I took you. Whole. Mine.” He beat his chest once more.

Annie’s stare didn’t break, but something in her posture shifted. She didn’t stand so straight anymore. Her arms slowly dropped to her sides. The righteous indignation went right with it.

He looked at her, eyes tired. “I know I gotta be strong. I’m a man. My back ain’t supposed to bend, or break. I get it...”

His voice dropped, thick now. “But this? What you doing right now?” He gestured between them.

“You tearing us apart.”

“I knew I’d have to protect myself from bullets, cuffs, and the mother fuckin’ KKK but I ain't never think I’d have to protect myself from you too.”

Annie’s lips parted — but nothing came out.

“And for what?” he asked, nearly whispering. “A trophy for who the most holy?”

His laugh came bitter, breathless “I don’t wanna play anymore. You got it.”

The room felt too small for the two of them. Too tight to hold all that pain.

Smoke nodded to himself, like he’d said what he came to say. He turned, ready to put distance between them.

“You stay here,” he said softly. Always softly with his Annie. “I got the couch.”

As he walked past, Annie reached out — just two fingers brushing his sleeve.

“Elijah…”

He pulled away gently. Didn’t look at her. Just kept going.

The door closed behind him with a soft click.

Annie stood alone, the silence pressing in.

She looked down at the sweet balm on the table. The note with her name on it. The care he’d shown — even when she’d doubted him.

Her chest rose, then fell.

The tears came slow. No sound, just heat.

She sat down, elbows on her knees, and stared at her trembling hands.

And in that quiet, she saw it clear:

Her grip on his past was standing in the way of their future.

Annie dropped her head into her hands.

And sobbed. __

A/N Ya’ll know me for the love stories but I’m actually an angst monster. ✨Surprise ✨ 😂 

With all this focus on the trio I thought I’d bring it back to give some attention to the OG lovers. 

I am still working on the fic with Annie soft-domming Smoke. Alot of ya’ll asked to be on the taglist for it. It’s there, I’ve got about 3 variations I’m working through. Will likely post it next weekend.

Your thoughts and encouragement keep me writing. Can't wait to hear what ya'll think 🥰

____

Interested in my future works? Let me know if you'd like me to add you to my tag list. My other works can be found in My Masterlist. Thanks for reading!

___

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[beanarie]

@bucktommywhumpweek day 4: grief. following from day 1 and days 2-3.

~

Tommy is awake. That might be the only way Buck was allowed in to see him; he was able to give consent. So Buck is grateful for multiple reasons.

He looks awful, weak and pale. But, he's awake. He blinks lazily, his brow furrowing as he registers what's in front of him.

"Why you here," he breathes.

Oh.

Buck should've known.

Buck touches the wheel of his chair. "I- I'll go, if you want. I-"

Tommy shakes his head slightly. "New cast," he says, a shade louder, pointing down. At Buck's leg.

"This?" Buck gestures at it. "Structure fire at a fitness center. Set of kettlebells tripped- tripped me up. I always hated those."

"Rude," Tommy whispers, a tiny smile playing on his lips.

"How are you feeling?" Buck asks.

"Like..." Tommy pauses to take a deeper breath. "I got T-boned."

"What a coincidence," Buck says, trying to sound light. "That's exactly what happened to you."

Tommy's smile goes from tiny to small, crinkling his crows feet. "S'good to see you." He lays his hand on the bed palm side up, and Buck gently takes it in his. "Never apologized."

And here's Buck's moment. The one he's been procrastinating over since the spring. "No, I didn't, but I am, so sor-"

Tommy tugs Buck's hand and points at himself.

"What do you have to be sorry for?"

Tommy lifts his other hand and uses two fingers to mime walking.

Buck huffs out a laugh. "That was like three relationship and federal crimes ago."

"Worst one," Tommy says, his smile gone.

"It was pretty bad." Buck runs his thumb along the back of Tommy's hand. "But I- I can't blame you for not wanting to live in the loft. I didn't even choose to stay there."

"I'd live there..." Tommy's eyes slide shut and he drags them open. "With you." Then he does it again. After the third time, he is fully out. Endeared, Buck glances at the monitor, and his blood runs cold.

Tommy's heart rate shouldn't be climbing right now.

"T-Tommy?" Buck wheels away from the bed and the nurses close in. As he exits the room, assisted by an orderly, the doctor yells for an ultrasound.

~

After Buck gets settled in the waiting area, he expects someone to reclaim the wheelchair. They're for patients, and upon his discharge, he officially stopped being one of those. Surely it's needed somewhere.

But no one says anything. Buck drifts again.

A hand squeezes his shoulder. Buck opens his eyes, realizing he hasn't seen Josh since he got Buck's phone back from the ER.

"Hey, I got you a vitamin water. Drink up. We need to get some electrolytes back in you."

Eddie, of all people. Buck takes the bottle and takes a sip.

Eddie nods approvingly. "Bobby's sick, so Maddie gave me a call."

Buck keeps his flinch internal this time. "Thanks," he says, because that's what you do. Just as Eddie did when he told Buck he's relocating with Chris and Buck said they might as well take the house back.

"Are you sure?" Eddie said, and Buck nodded instead of shrugging. Of course he wouldn't keep what has always been Eddie's house while they found some other place. (It was Eddie's kitchen where they had the fight. Somehow that made it better in Buck's mind.)

Then Eddie said, "Thanks, man."

Buck never once considered asking him for help moving. Eddie was busy, and he was probably still raw about Bobby, and that was a bad combination. Buck was not going to set him off again.

"Let's get a move on. Chris is making up the couch for you as we speak."

Suddenly Buck is in motion, but he doesn't want to be. He doesn't want any of this. "Stop," he says, engaging the brake when Eddie doesn't react quick enough. "I'm not leaving. Tommy's still in surgery."

"Buck, you stay here any longer they're gonna put you back in a room. You look like roadkill."

Why does it suddenly matter what I look like, Buck thinks. "I'm not going anywhere."

Eddie eyes him for a second, before letting his shoulders drop. "Okay. So we wait."

Right, wait. For Eddie to point out that Tommy is his ex, not his boyfriend, or check the time on his phone, or point out what else he needs to do today. Or. Or.

Buck watches Eddie pick out a pamphlet about pain management from the display and take it back to his seat.

"You can go, actually."

Eddie groans. "Come on, Buck."

"I don't need to be handled," he says. His heart is pounding in his ears.

Eddie takes in a breath that is absolutely a stifled sigh. "What are you talking about?"

"No one knows how to handle me," Buck quotes. "That's- That's fine. I'm not asking you to."

"Give me a break," Eddie says under his breath.

"If he doesn't m-make it-" Buck blinks rapidly, his chest burning. "If- If he dies in there, it wouldn't be your loss, too. You stopped being his friend before you stopped being mine. W-Why are you still here?"

It's not fair. It's not even entirely true. But it feels right in the moment, and Buck is so sick of holding back out of fear of retaliation. Go ahead, he thinks. Grab me in front of all these people. Give me a shove that tips over this wheelchair.

Leave. Stop making me think I can count on you and then yanking the rug out from under me.

Eddie is staring at him, hands loose at his sides. The pamphlet fell on the floor at some point.

"I wasn't there for you after Shannon, and I- I tried to make up for that ever since. But you. You were here. You've been here."

Buck's ankle is killing him. Josh got him meds from the pharmacy downstairs, but Buck shouldn't take pain pills on an empty stomach. There's nothing he can do that doesn't require doing something else first. He's so tired.

He shoves at his temple with the heel of his hand. The headache is back, too. "I wake up three, four, five times a night every night and I don't pick up the phone. I don't tell anyone the next day. Because how dare I make it all about me."

"I wanted you to talk to me," Eddie says. "To actually talk. But all I got were those stupid assessment questions, because you were in your head about it. I didn't want psych triage, Buck. I wanted my best friend."

"Sorry picking you up from the airport and telling you we were just glad you came wasn't enough. Sorry, I couldn't be more of a 'best friend'."

"God, Joan of Arc over here. You sure you aren't Catholic?"

"What did you do?" Buck asks.

Eddie clenches his jaw. "I tried."

"When?"

"Is anyone here for Thomas Kinard?"

[galadrieljones]

Okay but wait is no one gonna talk about the part where the reason this freshman can't focus is because they're spending so much time on tiktok that their eyes hurt?

Too much reliance on generative AI is a symptom of a larger problem. It's not the problem itself. Social media addiction has actually destroyed the attention spans of an entire generation, and it's not even funny. The difference between someone who's 18yo with a social media addiction and someone who's 35+ is that the olds have memory of a time before and methods for returning and finding clarity. We were already young adults when social media became a Thing. Most of us were out of college or at least in college before the first iPhone even came out. We had already developed methods of living and coping and problem solving BEFORE we had social media and the internet at our very fingertips to tell us what to do.

BUT someone who grew up in this environment, unless they've been actively taught and guided by conscious, well-educated caretakers, has zero knowledge of anything else. We can't expect that our experience is in any way relatable to theirs. It's as alien as anything. And those caretakers by the way, aka parents who are usually Gen Xers, are imho doing the best they can, in most situations. Just like their children, most don't have a frame of reference for what's going on. They may assume that what they lived was the default setting for human existence because life really was different without the internet, like it was REALLY DIFFERENT, and so they do simply assume it will Be Okay, and while this sort of naïveté is ALSO a problem, we can't just outright blame them either. There's no one person or group to blame.

But. This is part of why there is a huge disconnect in academia, as your teachers are in their 40s and 50s, and they legit cannot grasp the issue. Just put down the phone and type! Ha. In the other direction, you have institutions creating entire departmental roles to try and meet the attention span issue halfway. Gamification. Online learning environments. Shorter readings. In-class personal essays. The list goes on. Anything to keep the kids from running to the ChatGPT!! I taught in higher ed for 14 years and I saw all of this. The rancor and hand-wringing over AI in its earliest, most misunderstood days was insufferable in its futility.

So at the risk of sounding contrarian, we actually can't just ban AI or demonize AI and those who use it. AI exists now and is readily available to even those who don't go to college. This is the new normal. Learning how to use it and incorporate it effectively while slowly introducing the concept of an Attention Span to those without one is just part of the only way forward. Also, people are going to use AI for things we may consider to be "stupid" but like, it is going to find its place, just like everything else. We've already entered the "moral superiority" stage, btw, in which people tout their "ChatGPT virginity" as if it makes them a better person than some tired college kid in Bowling Green who used it a couple times to finish a research paper the night before it was due. Realize that in 2007 there were ppl for whom Not Being On Facebook was a point of pride and virtue also. Every single one of them is on Facebook now at the very least, and some are social media addicts just like the rest of us. Such is the progression of time and adaptation!!

In terms of kids "cheating their way through college," again, we can't just blame AI. There really is something to be done about the cultural importance of "college," and figuring out why we have so many kids in college who actually don't need or want to be there. If college were a place you went to learn and grow, then ChatGPT would not be such a pressing concern. Instead, it's become a mostly mandatory extension of high school, with any perspective on what it means to NOT go to Traditional College entirely limited and in many places, outright and unfairly stigmatized. But that's really another discussion altogether.

Anyway, when it comes to AI, noticing the problem is GOOD. But Fighting it tooth and nail and hoping it just goes away is futile, because it's actually not the root cause of what's going on, imho.

Generative AI has destroyed academia.

In the next few decades we’re going to have thousands of people who don’t really know anything, and can’t do any critical thinking.

[angelsforthenight]

wwould you continue the sub ellie on an aphrodisiac drabble? kinda wanna see how we help her...issue

for all the filthies asking for more ;) (pt 1 here.)

content (18+): sub!ellie, porn w/o plot, cussing, teasing, strap-use, very faint degrading, praising

it'd take a while before ellie would get over her embarrassment, before the aphrodisiac fully kicks in and clouds all her inhibitions and judgements. that's why she insists at first to cover her face.

you let up and have her sprawled on your lap, attentive fingers smearing the moisture on her needy cunt. ellie cannot stop herself from jolting and twitching on your lap, muffled moans surging from the poor thing as she buries her red face in the sheets.

you have to coax the embarrassment out of her, leaning in and letting your soothing breath wash over her skin.

'come on... show me your pretty face.' in which ellie would respond with a deprived whimper. she's shuddering so much it's as if she's in pain, but you're able to tell she's overtaken by a thumping pleasure instead: especially when she finally gives in and looks at you; a pure total mess. so quick to losing herself.

you smile at her as you sharply thrust your fingers in, rubbing right against her sweet spot. she arches her back obscenely, like a cat. her jaw falls slack, resounding grunts and moans being pulled out of her.

she comes quickly, of course. eyes rolling to the back of her head. you've done nothing different; finger-fucking her like you usually do, but the drug definitely made it feel like it was the holy grail.

ellie slowly flips herself around, laying on your lap and staring up at you with eyes stricken with tears. her breathes come in short pants.

'more... please... please give me more.'

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

ellie watches in awe as you adjust the harness around your strap. you can palpably see the way her eyes sparkle. it's so amusing considering she's seen it on you so many times before.

'you're so fucking high off of that shit, aren't you?' you point out amusedly. eager little thing wouldn't even be able to hear you, because she's busy crawling over to you and wrapping her fingers around the base of the faux-cock.

you're surprised when you see ellie wrapping her pink lips around your strap. you didn't even ask her too, but here she is: bobbing her head up and down as she gazes up at you with dazed eyes. drool is vulgarly leaking from her chin and dripping on her boobs. she's moaning too, and when you crane over your neck wondering what's got her so damn pleasured from merely sucking on silicone, you're met with the sight of ellie touching herself.

'how slutty...' you tease, cupping her face and gently pulling her away from the strap. ellie lets go with a pop, following with a needy breath.

'is it wet enough?' ellie pants, unable to keep her eyes off your dick. you can't help but laugh. never in your life have you heard ellie say such nasty things. who would've thought an aphrodisiac would've got her like this? it's adorable, but you won't deny how much your cunt flexed at the sound of that.

'you did just fine. such a good girl initiating things for me.' you drawl. ellie's eyes warm over at the sound of your praise. as a matter of fact, you can visibly see the way she melts. you could never ever get enough of her.

ellie can feel her entire body respond to you. so when your hands are gripping her sides; snapping your hips as she scrabbles to hold onto the sheets for support, she can feel her entire body vibrate with so much pleasure. too much. you watch, mesmerised, as a dribble of sweat travels down her back. her body is like a work of art you never tire of observing. every single little detail, like the sunburnt spot on the tip of her shoulder, or the light scar on the corner of her lower back.

ellie throws her head back in full ecstasy, her eyes fluttered shut as she babbles incoherently on how good it all feels. her hips move all on her own, with you hardly having to thrust. her ass slides back and forth against your strap and lo and behold, ellie lets out a scream full of rapture — making a mess of herself yet again. and of course, she's begging for more.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

you pamper the hell out of ellie. you take care of her, fucking her as nice and hard as you can. ellie responds so beautifully, her body coated in a film of sweat making her glisten. you lean in and smell her neck, your tongue dragging vertically along the humid flesh. my god, you could eat her if you could.

'i'm cumming... again... i'm gonna die, i'm gonna die!' ellie babbles repeatedly. her brain has long gone, replaced by a gloop of lust and hazy need instead.

'you're not gonna die, ellie.' you chuckle, playing with her rock hard nipples that have become overly sensitive. ellie whines shamelessly, trying to squirm away from your touch.

'too much...' she mumbles, hardly discernible; fucked so much her language is nothing more than incoherent slurring

'it can never be too much for you can it?' you joke, pinching her nipple as you say so, punching a desperate keen out of her throat. yet again, she shudders violently, pearly white gloop flowing out of her fluttering pussy - that's clenching and unclenching around nothing.

you two spend hours upon hours, rounds upon rounds until you both have had enough.

note: didn't proof read this one because i was so desperate to get out of writer's block and upload something .·°՞(≧□≦)՞°·. anywayyyy hope u liked and i have sum other ideas brewing up so yeeayayyy

[bililyy]

Best friend!Billie - Pt2

This has a Drabble at the end that you guys will like lol

Warnings! Cheating, probably homophobic parents, Reader is a bit confused, Billie desperate for Reader's love, no use of Y/n

read the first part, so this one makes more sense.

Masterlist

"He's no good for you."

"You don't even know him!"

"No one is good enough for you."

Bestf!Billie who reluctantly agrees to meet you, but only because she needs to find flaws to show you.

"Billie, please smile."

"What? I don't want to smile at him, I want to smile at you."

Bestf!Billie ho almost rolls her eyes forever as soon as she sees him walk into the restaurant with a stupid smile.

She hates the fact that he just kissed the lips that should have been hers.

"I've heard so much about you."

"I wish I could say the same." She smiles innocently.

Yes, she thinks she's being tortured by being in this situation.

"Don't interrupt her!" She says as soon as your boyfriend interrupts you as you excitedly tell about your day.

"She talks too much."

"You talk too much!" She says pointing her finger in his face

Well, that left an awkward atmosphere for the rest of their night together.

"Can we kill him?" She says watching his back walk away.

"Billie!"

You already know that she showed you all of his possible "flaws", right?

"He has ugly hands."

"He interrupted you twice, damn it!"

"He didn't even bring you flowers."

"He didn't even offer to take you home."

"You didn't leave Billie."

"It doesn't matter, he should have tried harder."

But hey, a man wasn't going to stop her from being close to the love of her life, so it was okay.

Best friend Billie! who always puts on a lot of perfume when she comes to see you, so when your boyfriend asks:

"Is that perfume new?"

You'll always answer:

"No, I was with Billie before I came here."

He doesn't suspect you, but he finds it strange how attached to you she is.

"Does she... sleep in bed with you?"

"Yes, we're best friends!"

Best friend Billie! Who starts doing... not so friendly things to you.

She pulls you into her lap when you walk by and sits hugging your waist with her nose in your neck.

She keeps on like that.

Giving you little kisses on the mouth sometimes

Pulling you into her lap.

Sometimes even kissing your neck and leaving a soft mark.

You had to say something, you know you should but... it's such a good feeling.

Until one day...

Best friend Billie is lying on top of you (as always) and starts to caress your belly under your shirt.

"Billie, what are you doing?" You answer with your eyes closed.

She gets up a little and is inches from your face.

"I love you." She says seriously, those blue eyes staring at you as if you were her whole world.

"I love you too." She closes her eyes at that.

That's not what she meant.

"No... I love you much more than that, please break up with him."

"What? Billie that's-"

"I promise to treat you much better, I promise I'll take care of you." She says kissing your cheeks.

"Where does this come from?" You ask a little incredulously.

"My love for you? It's always been there." She smiles a little and gives a wet kiss on the corner of your mouth.

"Billie I can't... fuck, I can't break up with him like this now." She looks at you sadly.

"Why not?"

"Billie I don't know how I feel about liking a girl and... my parents like him." You say the last part quietly and Billie feels her head spin.

"It's okay you... you don't have to figure all this out right now just... let me have you."

"What?"

"I don't care that you're with him I just... yes, I really want to hold your hand and kiss you in front of everyone but... if you're not ready for that yet, I'll wait for you, but don't push me away."

"Billie, this is wrong."

"Let's solve this together, please give me a chance." She begs with her eyes, and damn you are so in love with those eyes.

"I don't know what to do."

"Let me love you, my love." She says, leaning down and kissing your neck, and you sigh, smelling her hair.

And wow, you've never felt so good having someone's hands on you like this.

She gets up from your neck, and speaks against your cheek.

"Please? I promise he won't find out." She approaches your mouth, and waits a while, giving you the chance to move away from her, but is surprised to feel you pressing your lips to hers in a kiss (which she returns immediately) full of sighs and longing.

Damn, where have you gotten yourself into, huh?

Maybe I'll do a part 3 with a one short lol

Thank you for your support and affection, please comment what you think 💕

[iamgonnagetyouback]

꒰ james who's against potter!reader's relationship with regulus ꒱

james potter had always known one truth that no one could change― his little sister deserved the best.

and the best certainly did not mean regulus arcturus bloody black with his pressed uniform and his too good for anyone attitude.

so yes— james had a right to sit three feet away in the library and "casually" read while glaring holes into the back of regulus’ head.

and yes, in his mind, he was fully justified in assembling backup— even if said backup consisted of the least discreet people in all of hogwarts.

sirius and remus were standing near the bookshelfs 'very subtly', and peter was 'casually' talking with ms. pince about the latest books in the library. together, they were absolutely certain they were invisible. even an eagle, they swore, wouldn’t catch them.

regulus— who obviously didn't identify as an eagle— whispered to you, without looking up from his book, "your brother's hiding behind the quidditch through the ages, holding it upside down, may i just add."

"and pete— bless his poor heart— has been listening to ms. pince go on about her love for books for fifteen minutes now. i think he hasn't blinked once."

"and my dear brother and lupin have been quiet for too long. i am suspecting they're snogging but that's just me."

you raised a brow, "the chances are more certain than we'd like believe."

regulus smiled as he looked back down at his book again. he tried to concentrate — he really did — but james, who kept glancing up every few seconds to spy on the two of you, was doing a fantastic job of ruining any hope of focus.

it wasn’t the first time james potter had been a distraction. it was, however, the first time regulus had to resist the overwhelming urge to laugh in his face about it.

so with a smirk, he exchanged a look with you and put his hand on your thigh, close enough to make james faint but far enough to keep it comfortable.

and the expected reaction came when james coughed so loudly ms. pince broke eye contact with peter and threw a dirty look at him.

"i think your brother may be dying," regulus chuckled. "should we call madam pomfrey?"

"no, he'll survive," you shrugged. "he deserves to choke a bit after spying on us."

right on cue, remus and sirius emerged behind the bookshelf and subtly walked by near you. they 'appeared' to be chatting but stopped as soon as they were close enough and gave a nervous chuckle simuntaneously when you made eye contact. "y/n, reg, we didn't expect to see you here."

"funny, cause i wasn't even aware you knew the way to the library, sirius." regulus raised a brow.

"i was just here to get...." he nervously looked around and grabbed the nearest book from the shelf, "... the copy of ancient runes."

"firstly, you're holding charms for charmers: impressing dates with magic and modesty, which i didn't think you had an issue with." you pointed out as regulus continued.

"and secondly, you dropped out of ancient runes two years ago."

"well, i am... revisiting." sirius stammered.

regulus tilted his head slightly. “you know, if you’re revisiting your studies, i’d be happy to tutor you.”

“in ancient runes?” sirius asked, suspicious.

“in subtlety,” regulus replied, deadpan.

"okay, enough. you both know, we know, james knows, peter knows and even ms. pince knows why we are here." remus started, rubbing his forhead as if having a migraine.

sirius opened his mouth.

“don’t,” remus cut in, not even looking at him. “you’re holding a book on magical flirting. the subtlety ship has sailed.”

regulus stifled a laugh and muttered. “and sunk.”

james taking the moment, barges over to the table, "alright, regulus keep your hand away from my sister, and y/n you're grounded."

"you can't ground me." you argued.

james put his hand on his heart, "yes, i can. i emotionally can."

"how does that even work?" you asked indecorously.

"it doesn't, so we're not doing it." remus interuppted. "y/n, regulus, we just want to ask you both, very calmly about what your intentions are with each other?"

"i'll take it from here, moony." sirius slid on the chair in front of you. "so, where were you the night of your first hogsmeade date?"

james, also slid next to sirius. "i told you he's not good for you."

"he didn't force you into anything, right?" sirius whispered to which you and regulus gave him a concerned (for him) look.

"he dresses up too nicely. that's suspicious."

"how often do you guys fight? is it more than how you guys kiss?"

"he wears a pressed tie, that's so weird."

"did you know he once kicked our family cat in the morning while walking down the stairs?"

"he once sat on a bug and didn't even apologize to it."

"he-" sirius continued but was stopped by you reaching over the table and holding them both by their ears. "ow ow ow ow! woman, are you crazy?"

"say that you won't speak a word until me and reg are done talking. say it!"

when they didn't budge, you pulled harder on their ears, "your sister is crazy!"

"she learnt it from mum. okay, okay, fine. we won't speak a word."

you eyed them suspiciously, "you promise?"

"we promise."

you released their ears hesitantly as you settled back into your seat. "okay, so obviously we're not going to answer your questions/accusations. but to calm your dumb minds, i'll just say that we're not just messing around. we love each other. we are in love."

"you are?" james asked as sirius looked as if he was half about to cry.

you and regulus looked at each other for a second as you smiled, "we are."

"oh my little sister and my.. regulus (?) i'm so happy for you too." james gushes as he nearly jumps over the table to hug you both. sirius on the other hand had a breakdown already with remus rushing over to comfort him, "they're in love. that's the sweetest thing i've ever heard."

"james, i can't breathe." you muffled out from between his very powerful hug.

james chuckled. "of course you can't silly. because regulus here stole your breathe."

"no, dummy. i genuinely can't breathe." you smacked his head. "i think you can call pete over now. that boy hasn't blinked for so long he's crying. but i think madam pince thinks it's because of her emotional book ending."

peter walked over a minute later with tearful eyes, "she wouldn't stop. she thought i related to the protaganist."

requested by ! anonymous

©iamgonnagetyouback౨ৎ please refrain from copying, translating, or reposting any of my work

[vaguely-concerned]

thinking about how deeply lucanis' life has been defined by a lack of control of that life -- as he himself points out, even before the ossuary went and carved the headline out again with big bloody letters. of course he reacts badly to losing what little control he did manage to construct for himself even within those circumstances.

(namely: experience has taught him that things (caterina, loss, pain, love, all horribly and indelibly intermingled) will happen to him whether he wants them to or not and there's nothing he can do about that... but he gets to decide what's let in or out of his soul as it happens, even if he has to close it all down and deaden and numb himself out in the process. (even if that means he drifts further and further away from illario, who's been desperately reaching out and trying to keep hold of him until he finally gives up completely and tries to cut the bond all at once when lucanis doesn't seem to reach back anymore.) it's such rare well-observed freeze logic solidly constructed from the bottom up, I'm still so impressed with it.

the way illario seeks constant external means to cope with caterina's abuse and importance in his life -- he can't win her admiration or acceptance or warmth (or like. acknowledgement even, at times :') ), no matter what, so he goes out and finds those things in others and then disdains and dismisses it for how easily and falsely it's won from them. he plots, he conspires, he tries to beat her at her own game however clumsily, he tries. lucanis doesn't try things that way. he's not about 'how do I improve my situation' by nature, he's 'how can I stop this from getting worse'. he avoids, he internalizes, he hunkers down and makes himself nothing until the pain maybe ends. he's fundamentally not a plotter, he's a reacter. an expert assassin pantser, if you will, to illario's clear and stated exasperation fhsak. man I love them. illario says 'get us out of here!!! if you loved me as I love you you'd help me get us out of here before it kills us both', lucanis says 'there is no other place, there's nowhere to go, all we can do is endure. and if it kills us... well, that's just family. that's what love is (the way things are headed I'll die first anyway so it's fine I won't have to face losing you)', and they're equally baffled and hurt by each other's POV. but they're both right, and they're both wrong. there's no 'right' way to deal with caterina's treatment of them, or their situation. the house always wins, if you pardon the expression. house dellamorte still stands and that is what matters to caterina in the end more than anything.

it also fits so well b/c like... their core wounds are that illario is the least favourite and is constantly dismissed, so he has to prove to caterina again and again that he matters. not even that he's worth love or respect or warm regard, but that he's here at all and as such should be considered. he has to shout 'in case u forgot I EXIST!!' at the top of his lungs or else be rendered nothing within the family structure (and himself, because it's all about family, that's all that really matters. in some weird twisted way I think caterina openly declaring him before all the other crows to still be of house dellamorte -- and no one from house dellamorte kneels -- is kind of a victory for him, as much as it's also a furthering of a prison sentence and public humiliation. house dellamorte brainfuckery goes hard.). lucanis is the favourite, and it's the double-edged sword that he gets all the affection and attention but also all the control and impossible expectations. drowning under all of that constant stress and close evaluation, his brain whispers 'I don't exist' to try to escape, to hide and hold on to the deep parts of himself that are crucial to life but not part of the perfect grandson caterina demands of him as the price of her love.)

I think a lot about how what seems to disquiet lucanis the most post-ossuary (as it would anyone with that psychological makeup) is the dissolving of internal boundaries and control he's been relying on, which is part of what spite symbolizes. his anger and reactivity has seceded from the union to the point of personification as a little guy (a little guy he resents and fears for his unpredictability and invasions into regions of his psyche he wishes to stay frozen and barren, and yet cares about deeply, loves! and also constantly dismisses and frequently helplessly lets down unless he's helped to learn to do otherwise. does this remind you of another relationship in his life, perhaps. it makes me feel nuts to think about the illario/spite parallels thanks for asking), and now that little guy is out there running the show freely the moment he glances away or closes his eyes. literal nightmare scenario I feel for him so deeply. so much of his coping is predicated on being able to Not do or feel or want certain things, and that's out the window now, Spite has Opinions. Spite refuses to stay wisely in place even if that place is hell on the logic that if you move you could find yourself in a place that's even worse, somehow. Spite actually wants to experience the world, however fucked up and scarring the way he arrived here, not just endure it. Spite means he has to face that maybe illario wasn't wrong all those years, at the same time as having to admit and face what illario has done to him, and figure out what to do about any of it.

anyway. mary kirby ma'am that's some good fucking metaphor work. thank you, and sorry about all the shit that happened

[rory-multifandom-mess]

MORE EXITOR AU COINY STUFF except this has more to it; A WRITTEN PORTION because I don't feel like drawing anymore (putting it under a cut because . yeah)

Pencil hesitated. She felt embarrassed. Coiny and Pin had always been her enemies, ever since that second season, and she hadn't let go of that opinion yet. At least not about Pin.

But looking at her now, the desperation in her eyes, the way her hands clasped together in a plead, her voice shaking ever so slightly. It was pathetic, really. But- Pencil couldn't say that to her face.

She shook her head and turned away from Pin, storming off so she wouldn't have to look into her forlorn eyes.

"It-it's none of your business, Pinhead!" Pencil responded, refusing to look back.

With every step, she fell deeper and deeper into her own mind. Her thoughts were swirling like a whirlpool, thinking about her time in the EXIT, her time spent with Coiny. She'd never payed much attention to him outside of being an extension of Pin. But those years spent in the classroom- UGH. Why did she care so much? It was frustrating at best!

Her mind went back to a conversation they'd had alone. The only conversation they ever got to have alone, really. Four had just stormed out of the classroom, so angry that the room had started to shake. They had zapped Coiny three times that day, all within the same two hours. His copper body was slightly charred around the edges. His right arm fell limp, no feeling in it whatsoever.

Pencil had dragged him out of the door they entered through, slamming it behind her.

......

"What is your problem, Coiny?!" She scolded the moment the door was closed, turning to him.

"Why do you keep putting yourself in danger?!" She asked, angry- but she didn't know why. Not at the time, at least. She began to pace around, gesturing her hands wildly.

"I get it, you're chaotic, but this is too much! We keep telling you to keep your head down or you'll get hurt- Which we were RIGHT, by the way! Look at yourself, you can't move your arm!"

He did, in fact, look down at his arm, limp by his side. He looked back at her, brows furrowed and teeth gritting. Why was he angry? Did he not like being told off? Because, oh boy, did she have a lot of words for him.

"Why can't you just follow the rules for once in your life?!"

"Because then he'd have no one else to talk about!" Coiny shouted back finally. His words stabbed through her like a dagger and she froze, a sinking feeling in her stomach. Her anger dissipated, as if it was sucked right out of her.

"...What?" She muttered, the air heavy.

Coiny inhaled deeply. "I annoyed him out of spite at first, but then I saw how scared he made you and the others. I pissed him off more and more so he would only focus on me and be more lenient with you guys. Yeah, it backfires at times, but- If I stopped, then there would be nothing else to protect you guys."

Pencil stared at him, questions running through her head. She'd never payed attention to him. To how he acted. She didn't care. It didn't concern her. All she cared about was how he was just an extension of Pin- but now she realized she was wrong.

"...Why?" She asked, "Hardly any of us get along with you. Why... why would you risk yourself for people who don't even like you?"

At this point, she realized she sounded more worried than she wanted to.

"Even if we don't get along," Coiny started, glancing at the ground, "we're still here. Together. We're going through this hellhole together. I think that's enough to form a strong bond with others."

Pencil stared at him.

It all started to make sense. The way he was with Pin in BFDIA made sense, sticking by her side even though they would be awful to each other sometimes. The way they made up, even after they had their falling out.

The way he'd always jump in when Four was about to discipline someone else and get their attention. She thought he was just being annoying-- but there was a purpose. A method to his madness.

Suddenly, she felt his hand wrap around hers.

"I see you as a friend, Pencil. You may hate me, but I don't hate you."

......

Those words echoed in Pencil's head for a moment, lingering in the ocean of thoughts like a boulder dropped in a calm ocean. She couldn't remember what happened after that. But those words struck her with a feeling of displacement and conflict. She wasn't sure how to feel about him to begin with-- but it was worse now. She groaned, placing her hands on her head. Great. She had a headache now.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Ok thanks bye

[nerdyscouttribute]

First Time (Smoke x Annie

Summary: Annie smokes for the first time

Warnings: mentions of weed, smut

An: I don't smoke,so some things might not sound right. Didn't proof read ,so excuse the errors , or point them out so I can fix it. Enjoy!

Ib: @nahimjustfeelingit-writes

Smoke sat up in bed, rolling up some blunts ,as Annie laid beside him in thought.”I wanna try”,Annie says, snapping Smoke out of what he was doing . “Try what?”, Smoke says with confusion written on his face. Sitting up Annie points to the previous joints Smoke rolled. “You sure? This shit strong”, Smoke says, finishing rolling the last blunt. Annie looks at Smoke with a soft look in her eyes nodding . “Alright, come here”, Smoke says, moving stuff off his lap, motioning Annie over.

“Wait we gotta set the vibe first”, Annie says getting up ,changing the song in the background to “Didn't Cha Know by Erykah Badu”. Settling down in his lap , Annie starts to hum along to the song-rocking back and forth. Turning her attention back to Smoke ,seeing him bringing the lighter up to the blunt settled in between his lips. Settling the lighter down, closing his eyes, inhaling- opening his eyes , looking straight at Annie's exhaling. “You still wanna try it”,Smoke says, sitting his hand on Annie's thigh. Annie answers him with a nod, “Open yo mouth” taking another breath of his blunt ,he grabs Annie's neck bringing her forward.

Their lips almost touching, smoke blows out his mouth into hers. Catching on she inhales, exhaling the smoke in his face. Framing the smile that's settled on his lips. Letting going of her neck ,he holds the blunt up to her. “Go on, try it”, Smoke says with a nod of his head. Leaning forward Annie takes the blunt in her mouth- Smoke lets go of it letting her take it as she inhales. Smoke leans back watching as Annie grabs the blunt in between her fingers exhaling with her hand titled back.

Slowly bringing her head down- her eyes wandering over Elijah,” I think I like it”, She says with a grin on her face. So they sat there passing the blunt back and forth ,until they got to the third one and the tension got high. “Can't Take My Eyes Off of You by Lauryn Hill” starts to play in the background. High out of her mind Annie just stares at Eligh- admiring him.

Leaning forward she grabs his face in her hand while the other trails her thumb across his brows .

Trailing her hand down to his lips- thumb brushing over the top lip. Moving down, tapping the area near his bottom lip. Smoke, knowing what Annie is trying to tell him, untucks his bottom lip. Parting his lips- allowing her thumb to push forward. Closing his full lips around her thumb. Moving her other hand to the back of his durag covered head, slowly tilting his head back. Smoke taking it all, eyes rolled to the back of his head. Easing her thumb out his mouth ,she reaches over, picking the still lit blunt up,” I wanna try something”, Annie says, before bringing the blunt up to her lips.

Getting off his lap ,she hands the blunt back to Smoke, undressing herself. Lips parted , Elijah stared at Annie with lust in his eyes. Trailing his eyes down her body-doe eyes staring back at him. Bottom lip tucked between her teeth. Full- heavy breast,with a silver shine going through her nipples. Soft, round belly- thick thighs that any man would be willing to lay in between.

“So, you gonna keep staring or-”,Smoke not letting Annie finish- setting the blunt down. Pulling off his white tank top- gold chain laying idle on his chest. Feeling Annie moves towards him, he pauses his movements . Saying nothing - she dragged her hands from his shoulders, down his muscular arms. Trailing down his thick ,but muscular abdomen. Feeling his stomach quivering underneath her touch.” What you doing”, Smoke's voice shakes as Annie gets on her knees.

Without answering him ,she leans her face into the bulge of his gray sweatpants-breathing him in. Settling her hands on the band of his pants. Pulling them down inch by inch until his dick was exposed. Stepping out his pants-knees feeling weak. Moving back, sitting on the bed. Getting harder-tip leaking, as Annie crawls over to him.

Now settled in between his legs,once again. Hands gripping his thighs. Smoke leans back onto his hands. “You gonna keep staring or suck it”, Smoke says ,staring at Annie's doe eyes admiring his dick. The curve of it. The chocolate length with a pink tip. Thick veins trailing all around it. Lifting her hand-she wraps around him. Swiping her thumb across his tip. “Shit”, Smoke whispers under his breath ,as Annie leans her head down, swiping her tongue from the base of his dick to his head. Closing her warm mouth around him.She moans at the taste that sits on her tongue.

Lowering her mouth down until her nose hits his pelvic bone. Holding her mouth there until she couldn't. Not slick with her spit ,she twists her hands around him. Staring up at him, his eyes already looking at her. Low groans leaving his lips. Letting go of his dick ,she grabs her breasts fitting them around his tall dick. Smoke's eyes rolled to the back of his head;the feeling of her soft breasts against his hot leaking dick almost made him cum.

Moving her breasts up and down , she leans down, sticking her tongue in his slit. Humming at the taste of him. Still looking up at him she let's spit dribble from her mouth on to her breast and his dick. Repeating the motion until she hears and sees Smoke moaning loudly, falling back on to the bed. White liquid shooting out his tip-catching some of it in her mouth, the rest getting on her chest.

Leaning up on his arms the site in front of him almost makes him cum aging. With no patience left he reaches down, yanking Annie off the floor. “What are you doing?”Annie says, shocked by the sudden action. “I need to get inside you now”, Smoke says . Looking up at Annie with lust in his eyes. “Alright, but do something for me real quick”, Annie says; Smoke looking at her with confusion on his face. When Annie took her fingers, scooping some of his cum off her breast onto her fingers , putting her fingers up to his mouth-he got what she meant. Without hesitation he leaned forward taking her fingers into his mouth. Annie stepped further in between his legs- taking her fingers, using them to slowly guide him on his back.

Other hand lying on his chest. Easing her fingers out his mouth, she straddles him , and kisses him. Moaning at the taste of him. Grinding on his lap. Smoke's hands found her hips, moving her against him more. As she kissed him down his neck leaving marks he said “come on baby I wanna feel you now”, through moans. Lifting her head from his neck , she leans down planting a kiss on his lips.

Reaching her arm down ,she lifts up a bit, settling down on his dick. Both their moans fill the room as she finally reaches his base. Smoke's hands digging into her thick hips; trying to stop himself from cumming. Without warning Annie starts to rock back and forth. Hands planted on his chest , she starts to lift herself until she gets to his tip. Teasing Smoke and herself. “Please, baby don't tease me”, Smoke says through clenched teeth ,holding it together by a thread.

Slamming herself down onto him , they moan so loud, breaking sound barriers. Choked moans come from Smoke's mouth ,as Annie feels his warm cum filling her up. She continues bouncing up and down , fucking him through his orgasm . “Wait baby slow down”, Elijah says feeling overstimulated from what he just felt . Annie listens, slowly rocking herself on him. Smoke leans up taking one of her nipples into his mouth, while toying with the other one. He continued to do that , feeling Annie getting faster, feeling her clenching down on him. Knowing she was close to cumming he freed her breast; moving his hands down to her ass. Gripping her , taking control, making her go harder.

“Fuck!”, Annie moans loudly as her orgasm crashes over her. With no more energy she falls flat on Smoke's with soft breaths. Bringing his hands up, rubbing her back , trying to calm her down.”You think you got a little bit left in you”,Smoke says, finishing with a kiss to Annie's forehead . Annie raises her head looking at Smoke with a tired look in her eyes,”To do what”, she says.”To taste you-to taste us”,Smoke says, easing himself out of her . Annie now feels some of his cum seeping out of her hole.

Without another word Annie moves , setting herself against the head of the bed leaning back on the pillows. Leaning over grabbing a blunt ,and lighter. Lighting it , she inhales-blowing smoke in the air. Looking at Smoke with now hooded eyes she says ,” What you waiting for”, spreading her legs apart. Eagerly getting up moving in between Annie's thick thighs. Breathing her in , watching his cum mixed with her juices, leaking out of her. Leaning down dipping his tongue in her hole, moaning as the taste of them together hits his tongue.

Getting even close, gripping her thighs enough to leave a mark-he starts to fuck her with his tongue. Bringing his thumb down , circling Annie's clit.Annie looks down at Smoke blunt settled between her full lips, grinding against his face. Replacing his fingers with mouth , he wraps his lips around her clit, sucking her in. Which drags a loud moan out of Annie. Bringing two fingers to her hole, without warning he starts fucking her hard. Annie arches her back off the bed. Using his other hand, he pushes her back down, pushing down on her stomach. Feeling her tremble under his hand.

Feeling her tighten around his fingers, knowing she was close. His eyes looked up, breath caught in his throat at the image. Annie's head tilted back , one hand gripping her full breast, the other hand holding the lit blunt,smoke in the air framing her body in the best way. Skin glistening, Smoke wanted to taste her. Bringing his body forward he sucks a nipple into his mouth. Annie's hand lands on the back of his head. This pushes her over the edge. Smoke feels a wet liquid splashing against his lower half. Prompting a moan to fly out of Elijah's mouth, as he cums again.

They lay against each other in silence, nothing but light music playing in the background.

“I gotta get you high more”.

[gtzgoblin]

I've been thinking about this episode all week because I'm gonna have to watch it again with my kid this weekend but I just can't get over Belinda. She started off such a strong character, she was calling the Doctor out on his shit, she didn't want to be there, he was being almost sinister in his attempts to keep her with him and like the time didn't pass for her to be the way she was in the Space Eurovision episode never mind the end of the last one.

Now don't get me wrong, I have a kid, I would go into the box with my kid in a second if there was any risk there. I understand why Belinda did that in character at that moment. But when she vanished, the only person bothered by that was Ruby (which I did feel terrible for her about, don't get me wrong, I was desperate to give her a cuddle coz she's been hard done by these last two series as the Doctor dropped in and destroyed her life as ever). If Belinda had given any sort of unease (in the series to suggest she was a mother and time had changed or at the end when Ruby was creating) I'd be more open to the ending but, like, the Doctor has then saddled this woman with a little kid she had no knowledge of before the event - he literally changed time to make it so - and Poppy didn't even turn out to be his. Now Belinda has an ex and has to work nights and it just could have been written so much better even without changing the ending if they really had to go there - but they didn't! The other weird baby went to Carla. In the Space Babies ep Poppy wanted the Doctor and Ruby to be her parents. Ruby was the one who knew she was gone and cared. I don't understand why Belinda ended up with her when she'd shown absolutely no wish for a kid outside of a situation where she was brainwashed.

And on top of that why was Ruby the only one who knew? Why couldn't Belinda be the special one in that occasion? Her character was just watered down through the series and like, the companions have their flaws, but I've been watching s11 and by the end of that series Yaz has tonnes more depth and she's much younger and much more wobbly in herself (due to age). Amy Pond had a similar storyline and it broke my heart.

The episode itself, and most of the series, I've enjoyed on a surface level (that left me with a bad taste in my mouth admittedly) but that's all down to the acting of the cast, who have been wonderful. Ncuti, Millie, Varada, all of the UNIT cast, Anita Dobson and Archie Panjabi were fantastic (and the Ranis exit sucked too, what a let down) I hated Conrad because Jonah Hauer-King was so good (when Ruby was going on about his dad my heart stopped coz me and my husband had a bet on whether the Master and Lucy Saxon were his parents).

I get that things out of the series' control happened, and things had to change because of it, but everyone deserves a good send off and that send off for poor Ncuti was not only lacklustre (excluding Jodie, but again, she didn't need to be there) but overshadowed as much as his first one (still not over DT getting an award for the regeneration when it was Jodie's exit) which is absolute bullshit for the MAIN CHARACTER of the show. He should have had a better, more pointed regeneration. Even the Rani hitting him with a damn laser or Omega getting him (I'd rather we forgot about Omega altogether though, that also sucked) would've been better than him changing time for no reason.

And why couldn't he have gone to find the real Poppy on his way out, seen her happy with her family, or brought those babies back to earth where someone could've looked after them instead of making Belinda a one-dimensional incubator and happy about it?

Ugh, go back to the £5 budget and filler episodes running down corridors that are flashing red against a Dalek, or something bad CGI with big teeth please. Two of my favourite ever episodes are the Jodie one with the Dalek and the time loop and the Matt one in that hotel with the minotaur and they were just classic Doctor Who: show string budget, non-compicated plot, some cool companion events, the Doctor shows off after thinking it's all doomed.

That's better than this.

(P.S. did I misinterpret the genetic bomb thing? Is that how the Master wiped them all out or not? If so, how did he keep some of them in the cybersuits (I'm guessing he chose specific people he hated most to be exempt), he'll be furious at bigeneration (I stand by that that's a stupid concept though I'm glad Anita is still lurking somewhere), and also how did the Doctor then bigenerate if he's not technically a Time Lord? Is he a Time Lord? I never got the nuance of that so decided to just ignore it...)

(P.P.S I fucking hate gimmicks so I'm not touching that regeneration with a barge pole)

(P.P.P.S if DT doctor regenerates will he regenerate, will he turn into Ncuti again, will he turn into someone else, go backwards into Jodie, or will he just explode and destroy the earth?)

if you asked me a week ago how i thought 15 would die i would have guessed succumbing to his injuries after rescuing rogue from hell and dying homosexually in his arms but. no. instead he dies forcing a baby onto a woman who has never shown interest in motherhood. great...

[sorryitsmyfirstdayonearth]

how do you think the boys yearn/deal with a crush? I’m trying to envision a dynamic between a hunter reader and the two brushing off their feelings

Oh I LOVE this question with all my heart! Thank you, anon, for sending it in! ❤️

It's kind of a shame we never got to see either of them really with crushes. Out of all the romantic scenarios the show didn't have (which is fine, not complaining at all, we wouldn't have that much amazing fan fic if it did, is my theory) them yearning/pining is the thing I would have loved to see the most.

Dean just becomes a puppy dog, I think. He's all smiley and giggly around her. Hangs on every word she says. That woman can do no wrong. Extra points if she's a bit of a trouble maker, and Dean gives her a pass on everything, which reeeeally weirds out Sam, cause he wouldn't get away with half the stuff you do!

It's only when she puts herself in real danger that Dean's super protective side comes out. He can't contain the worry, gets grumpy. He's angry at whoever hurt her, and they'll get what's coming to them, but his fear for her safety translates into a bad mood. No assurances from her side that she's fine are gonna calm him down, either - it takes hours for him to get out of that state, and at some point, when all her wounds are taken care of, he'll probably isolate himself, stew a bit. Love's great and all, but it's exhausting. He doesn't know how to make her his, and he doesn't know how to be around her when that's all he wants to do. Maybe at some point he'll try to take a step back, keep some distance. But at the first sweet smile or inside joke, he's right back where he was before.

Sam's kinda similar, except that he makes sure to keep his distance the moment he realizes there's something going on. He's seen the show too - well, he lived it - and he knows he's no good in that regard. Plus he's got better self-control than Dean. Still, he can't help being drawn in my the little things: you sharing your excitement about something you read, you getting a little cocky and playfully flirty once you've had a drink. When he reaches for something for you and passes it down, and you look up at him with that look that tells him you know he enjoyed that. But it can never be. Sam knows that.

He gets jealous as hell, but doesn't allow himself to express it. He doesn't have any right to you, he knows that. Doesn't matter how much he imagines things could be different, how much he wishes they were. He lies awake at night, one arm tucked behind his head, deep frown on his face while that big brain goes over the problem he's trying to solve again and again. There is no solution. He rolls onto his side and tries to sleep, but only dreams of you.

And I know you didn't ask for this specifically, but if they're both down bad for you? Oh man. They can read each other, know each other so well, so they immediately know what is going on . There's no way either of them is going to get in the way of his brother getting what he wants, getting something good - and you are the best there is. They'll both try to keep their distance, failing, of course, miserably. Cause how can they stay away when you make them feel so alive so good? Something's gotta give, but whether it's an unplanned kiss after surviving a life threatening situation, you taking the initiative or confronting them about acting like absolute weirdos - only time will tell.

[literallypyro]

Three (mostly) random headcanons for all the mercs!

Warnings: none

Genre: fluff, angst if you squint

Scout:

-He can cook, but only WITHOUT a recipe. Look, I know he's illiterate, so just imagine someone's reading it to him, mkay? Idk what it is, but when he has to follow a recipe, it ends in disaster. Let him wing it, and you'll think you're at a 5 star restaurant.

-Tells his mom all about you. She basically knows everything about you, and it's not because she asked.

-Total malewife. What you say GOES (unless you tell him to stop buying Bonk. That's a losing battle, toots. When has a little radiation ever hurt anyone?)

Soldier:

-While this man is virtually never quiet, he's noticeably the least loud around you. Unless you feed into his loudness. If that's the case, may God have mercy on the rest of the team's souls.

-He isn't book smart, and with a lot of people, emotional intelligence isn't really his strong suit either. But around you? It's like this mf has a sixth sense. It's almost concerning. You CANNOT hide your emotions from this guy.

-Please for the love of all that is American, take this man to a chiropractor. I know he's used to rocket jumping, but that's precisely the issue. He doesn't even realize how fucked up his joints are.

Pyro:

-Actually the sweetest ever. Just cuz they're crazy doesn't mean they aren't the silliest hopeless romantic ever. Can't kiss you through the mask, but will damn sure try. They have left a print on your cheek from pressing their mask into it before, and they will do it again.

-If someone disrespects you, they will be catching Pyro's hands. The flamethrower will be saved for when the idiot who insulted you can't use any of their limbs.

-CLINGS to you when it's bed time. You'll have to wait until they fall asleep if you want out of their grasp (but why would you?)

Demoman:

-Never short on stories. If you're bored, just say so, and he already has five stories in mind that he hasn't told you yet. Sometimes he laughs a little too hard and it takes a minute to get back to the story.

-PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE compliment this man. We see how quickly he can swing between insecure and confident. Additionally, he would absolutely adore any eye patches you make him. If you make him multiple, he's switching them out every day. Make ones for specific occasions, and bro is at your mercy.

-If you can out drink him, or even just keep up, he's lowkey worried about you. He knows he has a problem. He's actually pretty realistic about it. He WILL be asking if there's something you want to talk about at some point.

Heavy:

-He knows you don't need to be protected at all times, but he has a hard time letting you defend yourself. Just look at the way he grew up. A big chunk of this man's personality is just "bodyguard to loved ones". You will have to bring his attention to it if you want him to back off, and as soon as you do, he listens. It's mostly out of habit, if I'm being honest.

-Lord help anyone who makes you uncomfortable. He gets such a threatening look on his face as he asks the person questions that don't SOUND like threats, but they damn sure feel like threats.

-Oh, you thought he wouldn't go out of his way to write translated versions of his Russian books so you can read them when he's not around? Well you're WRONG. If you ask if he has translated versions of his books, he won't tell you he was the one who translated them, but you recognize his handwriting.

Engineer:

-This guy will grill out every single day if you ask him to. Burgers? Got it. Hot dogs? Easy peasy. Smoked ribs? Don't gotta ask him twice! Mans will make sure every craving you have is satisfied, or may lightning strike him where he stands.

-He has already memorized your schedule. You were about to take a shower but- it's already on? No one's in there??? And it's at the perfect temperature???? Not to mention how your laundry was mysteriously folded when you were too tired to do it all at once... Safe to say, even though it was unintentional, he has committed every single one of your habits to memory like a tattoo.

-This man is a thinking, breathing jukebox. Can play literally any song from any genre off the top of his head. He can also easily convert songs to different genres.

Medic:

-He actually has amazing handwriting when it comes to signatures. The only reason he writes like a stereotypical doctor is because he wants to be able to switch up last second if he needs to.

-You are one of the very few people he trusts to watch his birds, and it's because he knows you know how he is. Did you forget about the whole baboon uterus thing? Surely not.

-Actually surprisingly careful with you. He'd be mentally punching himself if the rib thing with Heavy happened to you. Even owns your soul so the devil can't try to use you against him.

Sniper:

-Your are literally the only reason he would sleep in the base at night, but he REALLY prefers you sleep in the camper with him. He's kinda clingy, but not to Pyro's extent. Seeing how he is with everyone else, he obviously understands personal space.

-Secretly has the voice of an angel. He has intense stage fright about it, though, so NOBODY is about to find out.

-If you're scared or over-cautious of animals, he's definitely gonna fix that. He'll ease you into it, but given the time, you will have pet and fed every animal he can get his hands on.

Spy:

-We've all seen how much of a romantic this guy is. You are getting absolutely SPOILED ROTTEN when he is around. Hold his arm anytime you want. You want flowers? Tell him which ones, what color, and from where, darling. Can't dance? Well, he's pretending not to notice. He gazes at you lovingly, and you can't even tell he's in immense pain from you stepping on his feet.

-Has every high end cologne and has a different one for every occasion. This guy has SO MANY. He even has different ones for different restaurants. You could consider it a hyperfixation if you wanted to.

-You are his queen/king/monarch and WILL NOT let you forget it. Tells you every single day, sometimes multiple times a day how important you are to him and how much he cherishes you. Who cares if the team is around? They're just mad he got to you first, ma beauté.

[p0ltus]

This tiktok comment really pissed me off so I'm gonna go on a tirade LMAO

Blaming South for "letting competition ruin the relationship of family" is such an insanely moronic take. Did you pay attention when you watched the show? Do you actually understand what was going on? Because it doesn't seem like a lot of people do.

A lot of the lore around the Freelancers is given to us through offhanded comments during longer dialog scenes, so sure, a good handful of it could've been missed on a first watch, but if you took even the shortest moment to think about these characters I cannot understand how you'd come to the conclusion "South was a bitch and it was her fault for being mad".

The Director was a manipulator. He was A BAD. PERSON. A BAD PERSON.

North and South were signed onto the project by their parents. The Director saw the opportunity to play psycho-scientist with twins and only gave one of them an AI to see what would come of it. It was an experiment. SOUTH was the experiment.

We get some tidbits here and there from North about what his life with his sister was like before they became Freelancers. 90% of this dialog suggests South has always had an inferiority complex when it comes to being compared to her brother. This has been a life long issue. This was not brought upon by Theta. It was NEVER about Theta.

For her entire life South has felt as though she'll never be as good as North and that mentality is what made her grow to be so cold and snappy. The feeling of inferiority weighing on her for that long ruined her. North was always kind to her, but we've seen this trope before both in fiction and reality.

When the person you continuously get compared to shows you unwavering kindness your brain starts telling you they're being facetious. They're fucking with you. They know they're better than you, they're just being overly warm and understanding to keep that facade up. If they're kind to the person beneath them that just makes them look better.

Even though that was never North's intention, that's clearly how South was taking it. She envied him for so long that it drove a wedge between the two. Again, it was never about the AI. It was never about being a soldier. It was about feeling inferior for your entire life because no matter what you'll always be compared to someone else. North getting Theta instead of South was an intentional decision and that was her breaking point. She is a victim.

Stop villainizing South for "letting jealousy ruin family" because this was never about JEALOUSY. It was about INFERIORITY. She didn't want what North had, she only wanted to stop feeling lesser than him. She wanted to stop being treated like the younger sibling. She thought Project Freelancer was her chance to finally show she was just as good, if not better than her brother, but The Director played right into her insecurity and that downward spiral was what got both her and her brother killed.

South. Is a victim. South is a victim.

Edit: someone reblogged this blaming North. Idk how you misinterpreted his character THAT bad but no, he is not the problem. He doesn't see South as inferior. His problem is that he still sees her as someone he needs to care for. He's not dumbing her down or implying she's not as good as him in a combat/technical sense. This is a brother who can't get it out of his head that he doesn't need to raise his sister anymore. He never implies she CAN'T BE as good as him. He does not at all consider her inferior to him/that he's better than her. Not once does he say anything to her or to anyone about her to imply that. I have no clue where that came from.

"But it didnt bother HIM" yeah. Because from his perspective he only sees Souths personal struggle, not the fact The Director is intentionally manipulating BOTH of them. He sees Souths situation as her struggling with FEELING inferior, not BEING inferior, but the problem is that The Director is INTENTIONALLY PUNISHING AND PICKING ON HER because he is trying to pin the freelancers against each other. CT has an entire scene where she confirmes this to Wash. What did you expect North to do? It was The Directors call on who got an AI. Whats he gonna do? Go tell The Director to give his sister one??? NO???? He supported her until the second he died. He NEVER saw her as inferior to him. The real issue was the fact he still loved her too much to truly let her be her own person. She expresses that exact sentiment of wanting to be "her own person" in Recovery One. Thats not "a superiority complex" from North thats called being family. He cared for her deeply and acknowledged her struggle. He did what he could. Do you really expect him to try to argue with his superior? Are you forgetting this is the military? This is not a safe space for North hate either. Both the twins were victims and deserved better.

I rewatched the saga to see where this take could've come from and if anything that rewatch only further proved my point. I'll make a separate post about that with clips probably