#brown trouser problems?

[feyver]

by the way, this is something i've not seen mentioned before but i notice every time.

is he wearing butt pads? or something? forgive me for staring, but i've never thought this looked natural lmaoo. when he's over arthur's shoulder earlier in the ep, you get a pretty good view and its definitely less... pointy. i just can't figure out why they would make him wear something there?

(ep 4x06)

[pedaleceleste]

A collection of Marvin Trilogy doodles I’d post on my Instagram if my followers weren’t already sick of me

These r all disorganised but I do hope they land w the right crowd teehee

[eowynstwin]

clawing at the door

ghoap x reader. jealousy. bisexual soap. bisexual ghost. emotionally constipated ghost. manipulative soap. ghost likes em thick. lightly explicit. MDNI. ao3

When Ghost first sees you and Soap together, his jealousy is hard to parse. He doesn't quite understand what he's feeling.

On the one hand, Occam's Razor. Simple explanations usually prove the truest. Soap is his boy, has been since Las Almas, and you are an interloper in their hard-won dynamic. Ghost does not absorb others into his life lightly, even less so then he allows them to strongarm themselves beneath the mask. He doesn't particularly like people, isn't really fond of their tendency toward abject mortality.

Soap's strong arms are a rare exception. And Ghost has nearly died too many times not to admire a nice round ass when he sees one—the kind that glistens and quivers beneath the weak spray of a communal shower. Some part of him has always kind of supposed the sergeant had been showing off specifically for him, too, when he dropped trousers and moaned like a whore when the hot water started flowing.

The boy certainly dogs his steps like that's the case.

Then, you: showing up on base one day, Soap's hand spread wide and possessive on the small of your back. Jewel-bright eyes following your every move. Blush high and feverish on his boy's cheekbones every time you throw half a smile his way.

So it's envy. So it's a crush, unrequited.

Simple problem, simple solution. Getting over by getting under and all that. There are apps for every heartache, and plenty of hard-bodied gym rats out there tripping over themselves to bottom for a brute like him, who can actually throw them around.

Not two minutes after making his profile (military, six-five, top), likely candidates start filing themselves into his inbox. Some part of his ego is gratified, at least. The influx of taint pics certainly confirms for him that his vanity, in fact, is justified, even if the last thing he wants to see is some random stranger's asshole.

He messages a jacked brunette with brown eyes and dimples, who led instead with a comparatively tame "hey big guy," and lets him pick the bar where they'll meet up.

And it's...fine.

The guy is fine. Equally as attractive in person as on camera, with curly hair and short stubble. He's there before Ghost, and directs an easygoing smile at him when he drops onto a stool at the bar beside him.

He doesn't even question the mask, though his eyes linger on it, half-lidded, the kind of way that suggests he's figuring something out about himself that he hadn't considered before. Not the first time it's happened for Ghost.

The problem with fine is that Ghost can't work up even much of a chub talking to him. The guy has a nasally voice and a friendly attitude that makes Ghost's teeth go numb from the sweetness. When they sequester in the dingy pub bathroom, the guy goes to his knees like an angel, and Ghost's cock actually softens more, thoroughly bored already with the notion of this random guy’s mouth on it.

The problem is, Soap would bust Ghost's balls for this.

Sure, Ghost could get him on his knees. Soap is a good boy, he'll take an order if he's given one. But he's also a fucking brat, and the moment Ghost pulled his cock out Soap would immediately start complaining about it.

Too big, too ugly, not hard enough, and when was the last time Ghost washed that fucking thing? How romantic, LT, making him suck Ghost off in a pub bathroom, hasn't he ever heard of good old-fashioned wooing?

He'd complain, Ghost knows, because he'd want, more than anything, for Ghost to just cut through the bullshit and shove straight down his throat. He'd run his mouth because the only thing he wants Ghost to do is shut him the fuck up, for once, and make him actually work for the praise they both know he's so desperate for.

And Ghost would give it. If Soap earned it. The fight isn't about winning.

This guy isn't putting up a fight. He tries nicely, licks all over the limp-hanging head and pale glans, but Ghost ends up making some excuse—Dad has cancer, Mom died, the usual—and leaving him there still on his knees.

He deletes the apps. He can invest in a fleshlight, and find some porn star another with enough of a resemblance to be functional.

Less of a hassle for everyone involved.

Problem solved.

And then he encounters you again.

You're walking out of the supermarket one night, with two huge bags over your shoulders, digging through your purse out in front of you. He has to stop you with one hand on your shoulder to keep you from running into him.

The evening is warm; your shirt is a thin camisole with little elastic straps. His palm meets your bare skin, and finds it soft and dewy with a little sweat.

You look up, startled, blinking as if caught in a bright light.

"Oh," you say, "Ghost, hello!"

"Bird," he grunts, wondering why he's surprised that you recognize him.

He pulls his hand away, and still feels the imprint of your body heat in its grooves.

"Sorry, I should have been looking," you say, smiling. It's a friendly expression, open and innocent—a daisy's petals spread on a clear day. "Johnny's making beef wellington tonight when he's off duty, so I went and got everything."

Ghost frowns. What kind of boyfriend lets his girl do so much heavy lifting?

He helps you carry the bags to your car. He's jealous, not an asshole. You thank him with a breezy laugh when he closes the hatchback—

"I'm sure Johnny wouldn't mind if you stopped by for dinner," you say, folding your arms across your ribcage. It presses your tits together as you cup your elbows in your hands, pronouncing the line of your cleavage with an uncomfortable eloquence.

"Busy," Ghost says immediately, staring very hard into your eyes. "Thanks."

You shrug, unperturbed. "Anytime. Good night!"

He stands in the carpark for a full five minutes after you drive away. He thinks he can feel his own heartbeat throbbing through the palm he touched you with.

Well, then.

Bereft of any opportunity to get to know you—as if it would even be appropriate—Ghost stalks social media until he finds you through Soap's Instagram. Your account is private, so he sends a follow request, expectations very low that you'd allow someone with a blank sky for a profile picture and only one post on their feed to follow you, "sghostriley" notwithstanding.

But—you do. And suddenly he has a decade of material to peruse, beginning with your last year of secondary school and leading all the way up to present, the most recent photo one of you and Soap at the top of some mountain, grinning at the camera in your hiking gear.

You don't post very many pictures of yourself, he finds. Instead you document interesting food you eat or make, crafts you're working on, nice scenery you caption with variations of "saw this on my walk today :)". It's all very domestic, sweet in a way without being saccharine.

Soft, really. Totally separated from the hard edges of the world he and Soap routinely throw themselves along.

And yet, honest in a way that makes your version of the world feel more like the real one, and his and Soap’s the nightmare.

Ghost hasn't been with a girl—let alone been interested in one—in years. It isn't that the attraction had ever died, exactly. Rather, it simply became so complex, so twisted in on itself and trapped beneath years of grown-over scar tissue, that he'd made an unconscious decision never to confront it. He ignored Price’s stories about his wife’s antics at home, Gaz’s perennial heartbreak after strings of failed dates—

Soap’s lurid bragging about the women he’s taken home from various pubs.

(Were you one of those pub girls?)

So, here it is now, confronting him instead. Reminding him, in a pretty camisole, just how very much it exists.

In the carpark, there’d been a bead of sweat slipping down your neck as you’d waved him goodbye. He finds himself wondering how long it would’ve taken to slide all the way down to the slope of your breast, if he didn’t catch it with his tongue first.

He continues through your Instagram. The majority of your selfies show up, he guesses, after the beginning of your relationship with Soap.

Earlier pictures of you make your discomfort obvious. You don't like the way you look, and it shows in the tension on your face when confronted with a camera lens. But later on, you gain confidence. Your expressions are softer as you show off a new haircut or glasses.

And when the first picture of you with Soap shows up, it's like seeing someone glowing from the inside.

Your head is tucked into the juncture of his shoulder and neck. The smile on your face is soft, small and lovely in how little you're clearly thinking about it.

You're happy.

It floors him. A happy girl, settled into the embrace of a man who’s made her feel that way.

Piece of work, he is. Could ogle another man's ass without shame, but present him with that man’s girl and suddenly it upends his entire sense of self.

Some old cunt psychiatrist would have a field day analyzing him.

Ghost skips the apps and, following in Soap’s footsteps, heads back to the pubs.

It’s worse.

Not that he doesn’t have options sidling up to him, that is. It seems like all he has to do is sit at the bar and wait, and women circle their way into his orbit, not really talking to him but letting him know, simply by hovering, that they’d love for him to talk to them. Batting their lashes, laughing near him seemingly at nothing.

Up to him to make the first move then. It seems to him like the rules haven't changed over his long absence from the dating pool.

Therein lay the snag—Ghost doesn't know how to talk to women. Not that way, the way one says without saying it that he'd like to take her home and bend her over the back of his couch. Say that to a man at the right bar and that was his evening sorted, but Ghost has a feeling that won't play as well among people with cat-shaped brass knuckles on their keychains.

He's not much of a talker, period. Soap yaps enough to fill in his side of the conversation whenever they're in the field. And you...well, he doesn't know about you. Ghost has the uncomfortable feeling that he'd try for you, and fail miserably.

The bartender slides a drink in front of him, distracting him from his agonizing. When Ghost gives him a questioning look, he nods in the direction of a table behind him.

One of the barflies has made the first move.

She winks at him when he raises the glass at her. She’s pretty—her dark makeup makes her eyes look angular and mysterious, and her red dress is tight, thin, and low-cut. Her exposed chest shimmers, as if she dusted some sort of powder across her collarbones before making her way here.

Sparkly and colorful, like a lure on a line. Ready to hook something and pull it in.

(Your camisole had been threadbare and lined with cheap, fraying lace. A favorite of yours, probably, something you wore when you wanted to be comfortable, and didn’t care who thought what about it.)

Ghost notices other men are eyeing the woman, and a couple of them send nasty glares his way. That is, they do before promptly averting their gazes once they see what he looks like.

He can have this, then, if he wants it. He just has to reach out and take it.

He feels your warmth in the palm of his hand again. The breeze of your laugh brushes his cheek with a soft touch.

He sends the woman one of her own drink, drops forty quid on the bar, and leaves without looking back.

Another dinner invite comes his way, this time courtesy of Soap himself.

“She told me she met you at the store,” Soap says, one afternoon when they’re in the changing room. “Really nice of you to help her out, LT.”

“You weren’t there to do it,” Ghost grumbles. Soap has been prancing around shirtless for fifteen minutes, faffing about while Ghost waits for him to leave so he can adjust his erection.

“I didn’t tell her to get everything!” the sergeant protests. “She just went and did it herself.” Then Soap’s eyes go all dreamy and stupid. “She’s grand, isn’t she.”

Ghost grumbles again, something noncommittal.

“Anyway, dinner’s at seven, and I’ll send you the address,” says Soap, pulling a thin t-shirt over his head. Ghosts watches him yank the hem down over his pecs, covering the toned plane of his abs.

Soap winks at him. “See you there, Ghost.”

Ghost grunts.

Soap does, in fact, see him there.

He goes out of resignation. Or maybe with some notion that seeing Soap and you together again will finally vanquish whatever sits on his chest so heavily whenever he thinks of the two of you.

Soap’s the one to answer the door. “There he is, the braw wee bastard!”

“Soap.”

From the looks of it, it’s your flat. It’s nicely decorated without being too over-designed, something warm and comfortable and welcoming. When Ghost steps inside, he’s hit immediately with the smell of seared pancetta and garlic.

The sergeant leads him through the flat. Ghost has a bottle of wine under one arm, having remembered at the last minute he should probably bring something along. You’re in the kitchen, stirring a pot on the stove.

“Hi, Ghost!” you chirp when you look over your shoulder. “Ooh, good, that’s drinks settled. Hope you like bolognese. It’s all I know how to make.”

“S’fine,” Ghost says, which he would say even if bolognese made him violently ill.

“Ach, you can make more than that,” Soap says, retrieving three long-stemmed glasses from a cabinet. “Pour a nice glass of water.”

You snatch the dish towel hanging from the oven handle and give it a snap in the general direction of Soap’s ass. He laughs and dances out of the way.

“There’s a bottle opener in the island drawer, Ghost,” you say cheerfully. You're pretty tonight, in a loose t-shirt and soft-looking joggers. Casual, like you don't have a guest over at all.

Like it's just a night in with your boyfriend.

Ghost pops the cork as Soap sets the glasses down. After he pours, the sergeant delivers a glass to his girlfriend, and there’s a brief moment of quiet as everyone sips and the sauce on the stove bubbles.

It’s all so nice and normal as to make Ghost’s hackles raise just in anticipation, although he knows there’s no reason for it. Truthfully, he almost hadn’t come. The thought of you and Soap, and Soap and you, in the same room, together, a unit, had made his stomach clench up so tight that he though he might not be able to get any food down.

But some part of him needed to come, and see this. Test out Pavlov’s theory, to see if enough negative reinforcement could break him of this borderline manic fixation. If he could associate Soap and you with romantic nausea, and nothing more, maybe he could finally stop jerking off every night to no satisfaction.

Because he had, in fact, found a porn star who looked like Soap. More tattoos, and a buzz cut rather than a mohawk, but Ghost couldn’t be picky.

The real shock had been to find that this proxy often partnered with a girl who looked enough like you to be uncanny. Too skinny, definitely, but in the one video Ghost had watched of them together, he could have sworn, as the lookalike reamed her from behind—

That it was you looking at him over your shoulder.

Looking at Soap. Or, looking at Ghost, behind him.

At that moment in the playback Ghost had come so hard, cock blazing red and raw in his hand, that the notion had liquified a little. So he couldn’t be sure what the thought had originally meant.

He hadn’t been brave enough to watch another.

“This isn’t bad,” Soap says after tasting the wine. “Nothin’ on a good whisky, mind.”

“Don’t neg your lieutenant, Johnny,” you say. “This is good, Ghost, thank you.”

Hearing Johnny fall from your lips so casually threads something uncomfortable between Ghost’s intestines. Uncomfortable, because he likes it.

Had Soap told you to call him that? Or had you decided on it all on your own? Did Soap think of Ghost whenever you said his name? Did he think of you whenever Ghost did?

“Simon’s fine,” he replies.

It escapes him before he even thinks about it. The same way he’d taken his mask off in Las Almas and looked directly at Soap, wondering in some hidden part of himself if the sergeant was impressed.

“That’s a nice name,” you say, swirling the wine in your glass. You take another sip, closing your eyes to savor it, and then, tilting your head like a little bird in thought, you pour a stream of it from the glass into your pasta sauce.

“Suits him, aye?” Soap says, side-eyeing Ghost with amusement. “Right posh name he’s got for a big scary bugger. Hidden depths, him.”

“Yeah, unlike you,” you snark, stirring.

Soap slaps a big hand over his heart. “Ach, lass, you wound me always.”

“Someone has to keep you humble,” you say, grinning. There’s a charming twinkle in your eyes.

“You gonna let ‘er get away with that, sergeant?”

He surprises himself by saying it. But something in the way you and Soap bicker—absent of the usual sugary drivel, as if the two of you have skipped over the honeymoon phase and stuck the landing right into stable commitment—invites him in.

It's magnetic, almost. It seizes the spinning needle in his brain, draws it to a standstill. Evens out the landscape, so he knows where he can go.

“You’re absolutely right, LT,” says Soap, who smacks his lips, sets his wineglass aside, and bum-rushes you.

You shriek as he captures you in both arms, lifting you off the floor and whirling you around—both the spoon in one hand and the glass in the other fling drops of red and white absolutely everywhere. And then you’re giggling as Soap wedges his face between your neck and shoulder and shakes his head like a dog, probably biting down.

Soap growls; a big smile takes over your face, eyes squeezed shut as you laugh breathlessly. The sergeant’s broad, brown forearms have yours pinned up against your chest, pressing your breasts together.

“Not fair, Ghost!” you exclaim as Soap’s growling noises turn into obnoxiously loud kisses. “No pulling rank in my house!”

“Two against one, hen, you’re outnumbered,” Soap counters. “What should we do with this one, eh, LT?”

“See if I ever cook for you two again, is what!” you protest, still grinning with delight. You kick your legs to no effect.

Soap, also grinning, slots his face back into your neck. You giggle again, complaining that it tickles.

Some incomplete circuit finally connects.

Order given. Girlfriend “punished.”

Soap making you laugh because Ghost told him to.

Not one. Not the other. Both.

“Think we can let ‘er off the hook this time,” he says, feeling dazed.

The pictures on your Instagram, with you and Soap together. The both of you, smiling together, wrapped around each other, standing at the top of a mountain and grinning what the two of you get to share.

Soap's hand spread on your back.

“Aye, sir,” Soap says, setting you down. You’re still laughing a little as you go to check the sauce, and Soap finds a towel to clean up the mess he made. Ghost reels in the meanwhile.

There’s an imprint of Soap’s teeth on your neck.

They wouldn’t be there if Ghost hadn’t sicced Soap on you.

He’s still reeling as you begin plating dinner, and Soap sets out the silverware. When everyone sits down to eat, the sergeant tops up everyone’s drinks.

“I hope you like it,” you say to Ghost, setting his plate in front of him. There's a shyness to you, a verity to your concern for his opinion.

“Oh, he will,” Soap says, grinning.

He trails the tips of his fingers along the back of your arm as he directs that jewel-blue gaze at Ghost. It's sharper than Ghost has ever noticed before—

“The LT has good taste. Don’t you, Ghost?”

And with his other hand, he raises his glass to the knowing smirk on his lips.

a/n: I can't use arse, I know it would be more accurate but I just can't I'm sorry

[fox-guardian]

[ID: A digital comic of Celia Ripley and Samama Khalid from The Magnus Protocol. Celia is a taller, slim, Korean woman with pale skin, short black hair, rectangular glasses, gold piercings, and dimples. She is wearing a coat, vest, scarf, trousers, and nice shoes, all in green and dark purple with gold accents. Sam is a shorter, fat, South Asian man with brown skin, short curly black hair, a mustache and small goatee, and black earrings. He is wearing a coat, turtleneck, cardigan, trousers, and nice shoes, all in brown, dark red, and green.

They are standing in a hallway in front of a closed door. Celia is spinning a set of keys, and they are smiling at each other.

Celia: Well, this is me. I had a really good time, Sam. Sam: Yeah, me too! Celia: We should do this again. Sam: Y-Yeah! I'd like that a lot, Celia.

She goes to unlock her door, peeking back to smile at Sam, who is standing awkwardly, looking away. She opens her door with a creak and gives him a shrug.

Celia: Thanks again for walking me home, Sam. I really appreciate it.

She pauses, looking at him with half-lidded eyes. Sam smiles, gesturing about sheepishly. The text as he speaks takes up the next three panels, partly obscured by the two of them and fading towards the bottom.

Sam: OH! Well, you know it was no big deal I just figured you know. It's polite and it gives us more time to talk and it's not always safe out there at night. Not that you can't handle yourself I just you know and I figured company would be nice on the walk back and we were already having so much fun so-

As he talks, Celia calmly steps closer, smiling, lifting her hands up near his face. He notices her hands, looks up at her, and then looks slightly downward towards her lips as she leans closer, his eyes going sparkly. A shadow falls over him as she blocks out the light.

Sam: It's really no.... problem....

She smiles, looking at him with intent and then looks down at his lips. A pink haze appears behind them in the background. She finally tilts her head and kisses him, knocking her glasses askew. The background is all pink with hearts surrounding them. There are two closeups, one of their lips touching and one after they've pulled slightly back, lips glistening and pink sparkles surrounding their faces.

She stands back up, smiling down at him, pink haze fading behind her, before startling slightly. She is still holding his face, slightly squishing his cheeks. His eyes are still shut and he is blushing severely, hair slightly mussed. He opens his eyes, expression vague, with tiny hearts in his eyes and sparkles around him, pink haze remaining behind him, before he suddenly tips back, surrounded by hearts, and giggles "hee-hee". The tail of the speech bubble forms a heart. Celia panics, leaning forward to grab him.

He snaps back, haze gone, with a "POP!" as she pulls him up, and they are chest-to-chest for a moment before Sam pulls back, blushing, looking awkward. He clears his throat before abruptly turning around and walking off.

Sam: OKAY BYE CELIA. (smaller bubble, an aside) Sleep well.

She watches him leave, amused and confused, and chuckles "heh-heh", a couple hearts around her. She waves, heading into her flat as he leaves, embarrassed.

Celia: See you at work Monday, Sam! Sam, in a thought bubble: FUUUUCK

end ID]

~~~~

I FINISHED THE THING YAY please enjoy ripsam being. silly geese <3 after a nice date <3

[boobertronian]

Muay Thai - Part 1

Jihyo x M/Reader

Inspired by Jihyo's Seibja Ep_13

Proofread by @vorrentis, big thanks for some ideations by @authorhjk1

Word counts : 6163 words

All works are fictions ENJOY !

After a long week traveling across Thailand, Jihyo was preparing for her next new plan on her traveling show Seibja.

The last episode had her surfing and though challenging, she had a wonderful time and now awaited for her next adventure. It wouldn’t be long as the screenwriters and directors have a suggestion, and it’s something she would be eager to take on.

Director: “Jihyo, we came up with the idea that your next challenge would be to try Muay Thai, you know about the sport right?

Jihyo: “Ohh, I’ve seen how intense that can get.”

Director: “Well if you don’t mind, how about we set that for you to try at a local gym for the next episode?”

Jihyo: smiles and nods yes! I'm wanting to get some exercise in, let’s go!"

Director : “Then I shall book it. We’ll see you in a few days about the schedules for pro trainers, but that shouldn’t be much of a problem, also our cameraman will go with you too to film it, I hope you too will work well together“

Jihyo: "I work well with anyone sir, I did spent a whole trip with many other foreigners. I can’t wait!”

A few days later

Jihyo was at her hotel lobby, passing time on her phone texting Jeongyeon.

Today was her time to get her Muay Thai episode filming and now she was waiting for her driver/cameraman to take and film her. He texted her ten minutes ago he’d be there and twelve mins have passed since

Jihyo wondered if she should call or-

"Excuse me? Ms. Park?” Jihyo looked up from her phone and noticed a man approaching her and stood up.

Jihyo: "Hey there! You’re the cameraman who will be in charge of today’s filming right? How should I call you? I'm Jihyo, no need for formalities.”

Cameraman: “The name is Jungwoo, nice to meet you. Can I say that Twice is my favorite group. When I heard about this job, I couldn’t believe it. It’s a pleasure to work with their leader.” extends hand as Jihyo shook it

Jihyo: “Then let’s have fun together Jungwoo, let’s get this Muay Thai show started!”

Jungwoo chuckles at her energy as he stands to the side and waved behind him

Jungwoo: "After you Jihyo.”

Inside the Muay Thai gym

A trainer speaking in Thai: “Uppercut! THUMP Knee strike! WHACK Elbow strike - 1-2-3 Combo! THUMP THUMP WHACK”

Jihyo: “Woah! Now this is fun I wonder if I can try those moves! And Nayeon-unnie might loves those buff dudes!” the trainer looks at Jihyo’s direction and heads to her

Trainer: "Hi there, I'm the lead coach at this facility, the name ‘s Anurak. These 2 over here are Chakan and Chalerm, are you part of the korean filming crew that i’ve been contacted with?“

Cameraman: "Yes sir, our director did talk to you a few days ago about it and we’re here for the session, this is our main star, Park Jihyo from Twice, and we’ll be filming her trying out moves for the show.” bows to them

Jihyo: “Nice to meet you all. I hope I won’t be a burden since it’s my first time with the sport!"

Anurak: "Don’t worry, we have beginners nearly everyday, and we all love to teach them how to strengthen their bodies and mind through Muay Thai, so please go prepare yourselves and we’re good to go!"

Jihyo: "See you in a bit!”

Jihyo walks out proudly from the changing room,; her gear consists of blue trousers with brown top. She shadow boxes some moves while the camerman and the trainers are getting ready.

Cameraman: “Okay Jihyo, let’s get to the ring and we’ll start.”

Anurak: "Don’t forget your arm bandages and gloves. We don’t want to break your arms and such on the first day!” after tying up her bandages and gloves

Jihyo: "Alright coach! I'm ready!”

Anurak: “Ok Jihyo, so to warm up, you will do rope skipping for 3 minutes, non-stop, are you ready?" Jihyo: "Let’s go!"

Jihyo takes a deep breath then starts skipping. Her body jumps up & down through the motion, with her big titties defies gravity along with the jumps, moving up & down each bounce she takes. The motions of her tits are so noticeable for the fighters, making their eyes stare straight to her endowed chest. Anurak (thinking) : "Damn, those are some big boobs, looks mesmerizing.” Chakan (thinking) : "Holy shit, her titties just bounce up & down like crazy.” Chalerm (thinking) : "one hell of a pair for sure “

Anurak: "Ok Jihyo, first it's about the stance, it’s very important to have a strong stance so you can be balanced while striking. Put one leg in front and one leg behind, Jihyo copies good, like that, and put your arms straight in front of your face for guarding, this will be the basic of your training.”

Jihyo: "Got it."

 Anurak: “Next, you will use your right hand to punch into the pad on my right hand side of the pad, this will be the basic punch, now punch it”

WHACK

Anurak: "Good! Harder!"

THUMP WHACK THUMP

Anurak: "Very good! Now do the same thing with left hand!

 WHACK

Anurak: Good! Even harder!

WHACK**WHACK

Anurak: Great. You’re a fast learner Jihyo.”

Jihyo: "What can I say~ I'm adept to everything!”

 Anurak: Okay next is elbow strikes, use your right elbow to strike to my pad.

WHACK

"Good, one more."

THUMP

"Harder!"

THUMP WHACK

"Combo left right!"

THUMP WHACK

"Very good!"

Jihyo: "Woohoo my very first Muay Thai lessons! I feel pumped!" thumps her gloves together

Anurak: “You sure are! Okay, now here comes the quite challenging part, kicks, many of our beginners hurt themselves for this so be slow first. Sweep your kicks into my pads, learn the move slowly, ok good, a little more force, good, don’t loose your balance while kicking...

THUMP

"Good a bit harder!

THUMP

"Good! Harder!

WHACK

"Left kick!

WHACK

"Right kick!"

THUMP

Jihyo: "I'm getting a hang of this, it’s like learning for our choreos, but with more hits!“

Anurak: "sweet! Okat next, it’s combo strikes, you will combine what you just learned with me and strike into my pads, with both jabs, elbows and kicks, got it?”

Jihyo: "yes coach!"

Anurak: "Okay here we go! Left jab! Right jab! Good! 1-2-3 left right left! harder! Right Elbow strikes! Good! Go for the-Ooghhhhh!”

Jihyo: GASP Are you ok!? I'm so sorry!"

Chakan (in thai): "Hey coach what happened? You’re alright?

Anurak (in thai): “She kicked me in the nuts...shit, this hurts...”

Cameraman: "I'm gonna cut the filming, that looks painful.”

Jihyo: "Sorry I got to excited, my adrenaline just kicked in and I was too careless, I ruined our filming plans.“

Anurak: "Jihyo it’s okay….I'm gonna go...in the locker room...to check it out… holy crap that one hurts…”

Jihyo: "I'm seriously sorry for this, but we’ll help you what we can okay? Just call out if you need anything.”

Anurak: "I will..." hobbles out of the ring and back to the locker room

Chalerm : "Don’t be to worried Jihyo, you’re just a beginner, it could happen to anyone the first few times, we’ll take him into the lockers, and we’ll be right back.”

Few minutes later...

Chakan : "Okay so we helped him into the bench, he’ll be okay and we’ll have to wait if he can come back out, but we know our coach, he’s one tough dude.”

Jihyo: "Okay, but I think I should go check him out, Jungwoo would you mind let our director know that we’re on hold? I'm very sorry for this.”

Cameraman: "Already on it, and don’t be too harsh on yourself Jihyo, every show has delays. Let me know if there’s anything coming up okay?”

Jihyo: "Will do.”

Inside the lockers

Jihyo: "Hello, Anurak are you okay? I'm such an idiot for doing this to you..."

Anurak: "It’s alright...i’ve been through harder punches and kicks than this...but gotta say...you got quite a kick for a beginner...”

Jihyo: "Again, I'm very sorry, would you mind let me help you with it? It does sound pretty bad and seeing you like this is not my thing.”

Anurak: "But…it might feel quite awkward…for you to check my “friend”...I don’t think it’s appropriate for me to let you do that …. Just let me rest…a bit...and i’ll be back out there…”

Jihyo: "Just a quick look okay. I would feel even more inappropriate to let you on your own like that while keep going with the show, it’ll be quick, don’t be shy about it. Beside, between you and me, yours is not the first one I seen giggles, so sit straight up, put your back to the lockers and lemme have a look”

Jihyo said while pulling down his trousers slowly.

Anurak ( thinking) : 'this girl is fearless, no wonder she’s a leader, oh well, doesn’t hurt much to let her see my dick'

Jihyo: "Hey Anurak, you mind if I...touch it? I wanna see if you have any bruises."

Jihyo said while being internally excited.

Anurak: "Gulps s-sure…but pleas be gentle… "

Jihyo (giggles) : "Yes coach~” Jihyo uses to her fingers to move along the length of his dick, and then move to the ballsack, at first slow but then she suddenly uses her entire palm to massage it

Anurak" 'fuck, she’s moving too fast… too hard...to resist now …”

Jihyo: "You’re okay Anurak? You’re shaking! Did I hurt you?”

Anurak: “Keep goi-… oh shit…no please…slow down”

Jihyo ( pretends to not hearing clearly) : “Oh~ Keep going? Sure coach! Whatever you say!"

Jihyo moves her palm faster

Anurak: "Shit, at this rate I'm gonna… "

Jihyo suddenly slow down, but, she has other ideas

Jihyo: "Coach, I have this technique I learned long ago that can help you, you want me to try? It will make you feeeeel goooood~"

Anurak: "Oh no…” Jihyo slowly opens her lips and put his lengthy dick slowly into the opening of her mouth, while looking up at Anurak with her round but smiling eyes, letting his entire length moving in and out which each bop of her head straight to his crotch.

Anurak: ”Oh fuck, I can’t control it anymore, please Jihyo, whatever you do, do it quick!”

Jihyo pulls out her huge smile: ”Yes coach whatever you say~ I am your student (giggles)” then she get back to his dick, putting his entire length to the deepest part of her throat, gagging on it, slippery but not to mention, full of adrenaline.

Anurak: "Fuck Jihyo… too good...I'm gonna ...I'm gonna cum...too good...can’t hold it anymore …”

Jihyo keeps going, bobbing her head even faster like those quick javs she had with the lessons, pulling in and out of his dick just to tease him, and then go fast again to pick up the pace, leaving Anurak no room for breaks, let alone controlling his urge to cum.

Suddenly, Anurak, pulling his big dick out of Jihyo mouth, standing up while moaning out: ”Jihyo I'm cumming...ahhhhhh...fuckkkk…”””

Thick blobs of cum spurting out from his dick straight to Jihyo face, down to her sex lips and in her tongue, it’s like Anurak just hit a K.O for his win.

Jihyo (with cum in her face, mouth): ”Oh wow, he came a lot, and it’s thick, and mmmhhh taste pretty good too, wonder what he ate this morning?“

Jihyo said while using her fingers to scoop the cum away from her cheeks, nose, lips and get it all to her mouth while Anurak standing proud and panting with his dick still hard, falling back a bit to the locker.

Out of a sudden, Jihyo and anurak startle when they hear voices coming from the opening doors

Chakan: "Coach you okay? We hear your from out there. What's going on? Do we need to call for ambulance?”

Chalerm: ”Yeah, what's wit-what the…. y-you two-...”

Chakan and Chalerm just standing there, looking surprised at the messy scenario while Jihyo slowly turns her head back, and Anurak is rushing to pull his trousers on

Anurak: "Hey guys...uh...Jihyo and I… well she...helped me to ease off the soreness...well… it feels go-I mean, it feels less sore now...she...did an amazing job...for a non medical person…" Anurak talks while panting, not forgetting pulling his trousers up

Jihyo: ”yes. I helped him a bit, he’s alright now, your coach surely is a tas-...tough one to recover (giggles)

Chakan and Chalerm, (turning back and whispering to each other in thai) : “She just blew our coach's dick off like nothing, she’s wild dude.” Chakan said.

Chalerm: ”Yeah, and she’s fuckin hot, no wonder she’s one of their top idols, look at that face and her tits man, I had a boner back then just looking at them.”

Chakan: ”What should we do now, should we ask her to "help” us too? I mean...doesn’t hurt to ask right? His cum is all over her face already so why not?”

Chalerm: "Yeah, it’s not like we have this chance every day in this little facility. Might feel good hehe," they both turn back and speak out : "uh…miss Jihyo…I think we have a problem here.”

Jihyo: ”Ohh? What is it? Did I do something wrong?”

Chakan: ”oh no nothing wrong, it just...we’ve been training all evening before you came for your show, and Chalerm and I are feeling pretty sore, our lower body are tensed and...I think we need some help...would you mind …” Chakan pats his crouch.

Jihyo ( thinking in her head while smiling): these naughty boys "Hehe, sure i’ll help you. let’s see how tasty they are (giggles)

Chalerm: ”So...you’ll help us miss?"

Jihyo (laugh out loud): "Hehe~ Come here you two buff boys, i’ll help you, veeeeryyy good for sure, considering this my bonus from the show okay?”

Jihyo said while hurrying getting their pants off, letting their hard dicks to pop straight out, "oh stop calling me miss, it’s too formal, just call me Jihyo.”

Chakan: "Okay Jihyo, do your thing, please, we’re “very” sore now." Quickly, the two stood on either side of Jihyo, letting her holding their dicks at the same time as Jihyo again using her tiny palms and start moving, wetting her fingers with their pre-cums.

Jihyo: "Wow, you two sure are tense hehe, I guess i’ll have double the efforts~" Then, Jihyo put her mouth into Chakan’s dick while keep stroking Chalerm’s making them moan out. She’s going slow and steady, alternating between two, making them moan louder and louder each turn.

Chakan: "Fuck Jihyo, ahhhh,...so good...where did you learn this “technique”, this is even scarier than having an uppercut to your jaw”

Chalerm: "You’re such a pro for this, are you sure you’re not "skilled” enough to beat us?"

Jihyo: "Well, like I said to Anurak, your dicks aren’t the first one i’ve seen, just ones of many hehe~"

Chakan then holds Jihyo's head, starting to pump in and out of her mouth, making Jihyo gags a bit, while Chalerm is about to do the same. The two muscular fighters alternating Jihyo mouth, fucking deep and long strokes, while she just enjoying it.

Jihyo (closing eyes and thinking): "They’re ravaging my mouth, good, I want it, been a while seeing huge dicks like this anyway, beside, I'm too high on adrenaline now, feels like I can just suck them all night”

Anurak, standing there watching his two subordinates being sucked, thinking: 'damn, she one hell of a unit, big tits nice thighs, round ass, would be good if I can see ALL of thoses assets, might get me hard again for another round'

Everyone suddenly rushed out to the ring, half naked below, while Jihyo, in all her dirtiest thoughts, thinking there’s a way to make the filming even more interesting and impactful. Aftee Jungwoo setting up the camera on a tripod, all four guys around Jihyo, with her kneeling in the middle smiling.

Anurak: "Okay Jihyo, next lesson, it’s about endurance, if you can “beat” all four of us, you’ll get a treat from our facility, if you can’t, well, we’ll have some “penalties�� for you. Sounds good?“

Jihyo: "Alright coach! I won’t stop until you guys all “beaten up” hehe~ Whose first."

"I am," Jungwoo walks forward as Jihyo licks her lips.

"No way, I'm going first," Chalerm points at himself.

"Just get over here, in fact, I'll go for all of you," Jihyo stated and that brought a grin to everyone.

Jihyo starts, sucking out Jungwoo first, then suddenly turn to the side and suck Chakan, while stroking Chalerm’s dick, then she keeps going with Chalerm meaty dick, while stroking Anurak, taking turns on each of them, making them moaning out loud in the ring.

Jihyo: "How’s my technique, am I doing good? Excellent?“ Jihyo said while stroking dicks.

"AMAZING” All four blurts out, it’s too good for them to describe, having Twice's curvy member blowing them out one by one like a hungry fighter beating their foe in the ring.

Jihyo doesn’t stop, she keeps gagging between dicks and alternating hands to mouth, doing rounds of blowjobs like competing in a muay thai battleground, making each of her “foes” moaning loud and hard.

Then, a huge scream came from Jungwoo as he pulls out his dick, stroking hard and cum onto Jihyo's side cheeks, nose, while Chakan and Chalerm follow, cumming onto her pretty lips, forehead, and a bit of her hair, with Anurak finishing straight in the middle of her nose and a bit on her neck, covering her beautiful face with thick white spurts of cum.

The four panted, backing up to the four corners, while slowly recover their stamina, seeing Jihyo face being covered in cum, some of it dripping down to her top and trousers. Jihyo stays quiet, in a weird silence, making the guys feel a bit scared.

Cameraman: "Jihyo?… uh …you okay? Did…did we go too far?

Anurak: "Oh shit, I think we …. I think we really did go quite far… she seems…. upset… what should we do?"

Chakan and Chalerm: "Coach...it’s… it’s our fault… we were just being too horny seeing her...damn it… we might get in huge trouble for this ..”

“NO!” the four guys shocked to their ears hearing Jihyo screams loudly.

Anurak tries to calm down the situation by speaking calmly: "Hey Jihyo we’re sorry...we should’ve sto..”

“NO”, Jihyo shout, with continue dripping on her face and mouth "I LOVE IT, FUCK, FORGET THIS FILMING, I DON’T CARE, THAT WAS THE BEST THING I’VE HAD IN MONTHS AND I WON’T LET IT STOP HERE!”

Jungwoo, in his surprise, asking: "Jihyo did you say you...love it? Did I hear it right?”

"FUCK YEAH I DO” Jihyo keeps it as loud as she can, “KEEP THE CAMERA ROLL, BUT NOT FOR THE SHOW, FOR ME, TELL THE DIRECTOR WE’RE DELAYING, ALL FOUR OF YOU ARE STILL HARD SO I NEED YOU TO FUCK ME AS MUCH AS YOU CAN, FILL ME UP, CUM ON ME, I WON’T LEAVE THIS PLACE WITHOUT CUM ALL OVER AND IN ME TODAY, YOU GOT ME?!”

All four: "Yes Jihyo!”

In quick succession, all four starting to throw away all the clothes, getting their buff bodies out in front of Twice leader, making Jihyo eyes light up and open wide seeing them, feels excited for the wildest event in her life so far.

Like hungry animals they rush up to her quickly to grope her tits, grab her big mounds, pinch her brown nipples, move down along her abs and grope a handful of her ass, help her standing moving those rough palms all over her body.

Jihyo, being really into it, push the hands out of her for a moment, using her strong grip to rip off her clothes, throws them out of the ring like dirty rags, fully displays her entire assets for the guys to see while their dicks are straight up like pistols.

All of them shouting out “ooohhhhh” when Jihyo, flips her hair a bit, grabs her tits and mashes them together, her juicy nipples rub onto each other.

She then waves her curvy ass by using her solo song’s dance as a tease for the guys.

Quickly, Jihyo stops, blurts out: "What the heck are you waiting for, come take me! Go ahead and really FUCK me!”

The four guys, in their naked selves, resuming with their hands on Jihyo tits, nipples, ass, running along her abs and pussy, with chakan and Chalerm suck each side of her tits, lift her up to the top and second rope, while jungwoo and anurak take turns fingering her pussy and tiny anus, alternate their tongues between two holes.

All groped and licked Jihyo tan-skinned body from top to bottom like a full course meal, with Jihyo’s body is dangling on the rope being "served” with full pleasure and attention. Jihyo, feels too good she could hardly forms any words, does her best to spill out :

” FUCK, YESS, suck them, SUCK MY TITS, EAT MY HOLES OUT, goddamn it,DON’T FUCKIN STOP!”

The four guys and Jihyo, continue the sinful act on the ring for a while, alternating between her assets, making Jihyo squirts a huge stream out all on the ring floor, leaving some trails as the four guys shouting out "woooowwww” again

Anurak then says out loud : "You squirt on our ring floor, now it’s time for us to give you the REAL lesson, let’s go boys, you know what to do!”

Jihyo is still feeling enamored with the sensation, suddenly being put down to her feet.

Seemingly understand the situation, she puts out a huge smile and goes to the middle of the ring, drops down on all four, with the intention of using the camera angle, invites them by taking one of her hand to her butt cheeks and pulls it apart, showing her pink pussy and puckered anus, ready for whatever comes next.

Knowing exactly what to do, Anurak orders Jungwoo to get in front of Jihyo, while he himself lines up to her pussy, slowly enters his dick in her tight walls while kneading her butt cheeks, making Jihyo moans out and squinting her eyes a bit, but then get shut fast by Jungwoo’s dick in her mouth, still loving the feeling of deep throating his number one idol, with his hands groping her big tits.

The two start to pump in and out, leaving Jihyo a real mess in the middle, spit roast her while Chakan and Chalerm masturbate themselves, patiently waiting for their turns.

Jihyo, being filled both ends, having a real time of her life, her butt cheeks ripple in every poundings while her tits dangling back and forth, and her entire face keep touching in and out of Jungwoo’s crotch.

Even better, when the two starts to switch out, making Jihyo forms a puddle of drools between each switches, enjoys endless pleasure. Chakan and Chalerm, get their huge dicks ready, both agree they will have other plans for her.

After Jungwoo and Anurak both pull out, Jihyo, feels a bit disappointed, asks out loud while panting slightly : "Wait what? Is that all you got? I'm not done yet! We didn’t even cum! What about my other hole? That one needs a cock too! Hurry up and put yours back in! I don’t wanna wait!"

Her pleas are being full filled right away, as Chakan and Chalerm tell her their plans: "Jihyo, I think you will really enjoy this, let us show you!"

Both then quickly get into their position, while Chakan lays flat on the floor, letting Jihyo rides on top of him, with her tits bounce up & down each pounding, but also does his best to pull Jihyo’s tits close to his muscular chest.

Chalerm, has a spicier idea, takes a deep breath, gently pushes Jihyo down even closer to Chakan’s chest, enters his huge dick into her tiny anus, making Jihyo screams out loud like a full volume amplifier:

"ARGHHH !! FUCKK !! YOU TWO ARE STRETCHING ME APART !!! FUCK !!! DO WHATEVER YOU’RE GONNA DO! HURRY!"

The act continues with Jihyo being pumped in and out with two dicks in her holes. Chakan and Chalerm do their best to match each other pacing, just like how they do training practices with each other, but this time, both their cocks run in and out Twice’s leader, fill her whole.

Chakan, asks out while continue his pumps : "How you do you feel Jihyo, having two dicks inside you, you ever had this before? Your walls are crushing us too hard now!"

Jihyo, with her eyes nearly roll back, mouth opens, keeps on panting and moaning, screams loud and clear like she’s hitting her high notes : "I LOVE IT, GOSH I FEEL SO GOOD NOW! FUCKK !! YOU DICKS …. YOUR DICKS ARE TOO DEEP INSIDE ME NOW, DON’T STOP FUCKING MY TIGHT HOLES !!! DON’T STOPPPP !!!”.

Jihyo’s anus and pussy, like they’re sharing a single mind, tightly wrap around the two cocks even harder, making Chakan and Chalerm feel like heaven on earth, with each cock senses the presences of each other, but also the warmth of Jihyo’s caverns. And without a doubt, the two fighters reach their climax, do their very best to hold it together just to savor more moments with Jihyo’s two holes .

Chalerm ( finally able to speak out) :"oh fuckk, gonna cun, deep in this tight anus …”

Chakan, also blurts out :"yess !!! Fuckkk !! Gonna ...gonna fill your pussy Jihyo !!”

Jihyo: "Give it to me! Fuck! REALLY CUM IN MY HOLES !! FILL THOSE UP !!!! GIVE ME YOUR HUGE LOADS !!!!"

And so they both did, with their dicks explode inside Jihyo tight walls, feeling her holes clenching the very last of their cum.

As they slowly pull out, thick blobs of cum leaking out from Jihyo pussy and anal hole, staining the ring floor below, making Jihyo feels proud but sore at the ring floor, but she just loves the feeling, love being stretched out.

Jihyo, lays flat on the ring mat, face up to the ceiling, body slightly twitching and shaking, with cum continuing to flow out of both her pussy and anus, thinking to herself:

"Fuck...they...fucked me good… in my two holes...at the same time...but my adrenaline is still too high...I want ...more of this… shit ...i can even ...go all day...if they can...I can just let them keep..."jabbing” inside me...for rounds …”

The session continues, but this time with Anurak and Jungwoo replace Chakan and Chalerm, whom taking a small break after their enjoyments, both sitting down next to the ring’s corners.

Anurak suddenly picks Jihyo up her feet, with the help of Jungwoo, bot carry her to a ring corner opposing the camera’s view, with Anurak rests his back to it, starts to use his fingers to tease Jihyo’s asshole.

Jihyo, surprises by the act, moans out a bit while using her right hand to pull Jungwoo in for a small kiss, with her other hand forcefully strokes his cock.

As Anurak stops the tease with his finger, he lines up the tip of his cock to Jihyo’s tiny hole, whispers to her right ear: "Are you ready for another round of this Jihyo? We will do as hard as we can for you!"

Jihyo, being excited for the situation, says out loud : "Yesss !!!! Go ahead !!! FUCK MY HOLES YOU TWO!!"

Jungwoo: "We will !! And you’ll love it !!”

And so, Anurak, slowly pushes his dick to Jihyo’s anus, passing the tip, with Jihyo moans while panting hard, and even louder once he pushes his entire shaft through the warmth of her tight hole, stretching her wide.

In front, Jungwoo gets the cue from Anurak, also slowly slides his dick into Jihyo’s pussy, struggling a bit due to the position of her pussy, but only takes him a while before both cocks are sheathed inside her two holes, making Jihyo once again screams loudly to their ears:

"FUCKKK! SOOO BIGG! FUCK MY HOLES NOW!”

With that, the two guys start their movements, pump in and out of Jihyo’s holes, let her tiptoe on one leg between the two, while her other leg wraps around Jungwoo’s waist.

As Jungwoo keeps on sliding his dick in and out, he uses his hands to grope Jihyo’s big tits, grabbing huge amounts while also uses his fingers to pinch her nipples, to the point which Jihyo fiercely reaches both of her arms to push his face into her tits, making Jungwoo both surprises but also has the time of his life enjoying her huge titties.

Anurak, from behind, even though he couldn’t see much of the action in front, still enjoys having his dick inside the tightness Jihyo’s ass, does his best to hold her hips, with Jihyo leans onto his abs and thighs, while his face somewhat rubs into the back of her hair.

Even at one point Anurak has to tell Jungwoo to stays still a bit so he can enjoy ramming straight into Jihyo plump butt cheeks and tight asshole, making Jihyo groans out loud :

"FUCK !!! TWO COCKS !!! YOUR TWO COCKS ARE RAMMING IN ME HARD !!! FUCKK !!! I'M SO STUFFED !! FUCKK !!! FUCK ME MORE !! I WANT MORE !!”

A moment later, Anurak gives sign to Jungwoo so they can move down to to ring mat, as it was quite a challenge for their position.

They both pulls out from Jihyo’s holes in one go, as Jihyo groans out in disappointment for the sudden pause, but, she doesn’t have to wait for long.

Jungwoo, lies back flat to the mat, dick points up to the ceiling, while Anurak is helping Jihyo to sit down to his dick in a reverse position, with his dick going straight up her tight ass, causing both Jihyo and Jungwoo cry out loudly together:

"FUCKKK!!”

Anurak, kneels to down Jihyo, put his dick inside her pussy, spreads her legs out to the side widely, with one of his hand gropes her tits while the other pins down to the ring mat.

Jihyo, being stuffed both ways and full of excitement, continues scream as loud as she can when the two guys start their movements, but this time, they pick up the pace, ramming her hard and nonstop.

Each time the two of them is hitting the deepest part of her holes, to the point Jihyo has to use her entire vocal cords to scream out loud

”ARHHHHH !!! FUCKKK !!!! HIT ME DEEPER !!!! FUCKKKK !!!! DON’T STOP FUCKING ME!!!! ARGHHH I FEEL SO FUCKIN GOOD !!!”

Jihyo’s scream is a huge motivation for the two to keep tearing out her holes.

Jihyo, with sweat all over her face down to her heaving tits bouncing up & down, starts groaning in random Korean words that are hard to understand.

Anurak, finally able to open his mouth after a long while panting : "Jihyo, I think I'm close...I will fill your pussy...fuckk...it’s too good!!!! Your pussy is too tight!!!! It’s squeezing my dick hard!!! I… can’t hold it any longer …!!”

Jungwoo, does the best of his abilities, also says out loud : "Jihyo, I love your tight anus …. So much !!! I'm…I'm gonna cum soon too !!!”

Jihyo is still having the time of her life, shouts out straight to their eardrums :

"THEN GO ON AND FUCKING CUM IN ME !!! FLOOD MY HOLES! MAKE ME CUM TOO !! DO IT !!!! DO IT NOW !! FILL ME !!”

And with that, the three cum loudly,, with Jungwoo moans out, shoots his cum straight into Jihyo’s anus, while Anurak, pummels his semen straight into Jihyo’s pussy, mixing his with her messy cum, spill onto their bodies.

The three pause a bit in that position, then Anurak pulls out, with huge blobs of cum flows out from Jihyo’s tight vagina.

Jungwoo then again follows, has his dick being removed from Jihyo’s asshole, leaks some of his to the mat as well.

Jihyo, once again enjoys her pleasure, rolls off Jungwoo and to the side, breathes out hard with her eyes close, full of sweats all over her body, her tits are heaving up & down, and cum leaking out of her holes in thick streams, making the mat’s being stained with cum and sweats.

But, even in her messy state, Jihyo, smiles while knowing that, this is surely not the end of this session.

After a few minutes of rests, the session continues, albeit with full force from the guys.

From having Jihyo being prone bone straight to the mat, tits mash to the flat surface, taking each dick in the two of her holes, filling her entirely and repeatedly, to having Jihyo holds her grips onto the top or second rope, in standing doggy position, being pounded hard from cocks to cocks, as she screams and cum onto the ropes and the mat, covered the whole ring with her cum.

The real highlight, is when Jihyo, while having two cocks in her holes, both of her hands on both side stroke two more dicks, alternate between sucking and stroking left and right, while her eyes are peeking or looking straight to the camera lens.

Jihyo’s lewd but beautiful face, combine with the most sinful acts she could’ve done in her entire career, being recorded on camera is something could come straight out of a porno, but for Jihyo, it’s nothing but an entire adrenaline- filled workout session.

A while later, the four guys later rest themselves in different corners of the ring, with Jihyo in the middle of it to take their breathers.

Jihyo then slowly gets up, plays around with her cum filled pussy while wiping off some of her sweat, asks up :

"Hey guys...one more time...spill on me...make my body covered in cum...let's go...one more final round..."

The four guys lazily gets up, with Anurak moves his body and sore dick onto Jihyo’s tits, moves up and down between her rack.

Chakan and Chalerm soon follow, by letting Jihyo strokes their dicks to prepare for their own titfucks, and lastly Jungwoo finally rises up from his tired self, walks towards the 3.

Anurak, with his dick hard and face’s reddened, getting close to his climax, cries out : "I'm gonna fuckin cum on your tits Jihyo, they're too good not to'

Chakan and Chalerm, both are following their coaches: "we're gonna cum on your pretty face Jihyo, gonna covered that face again"

Last but not least, Jungwoo, while, tired, doing his best to say it out loud : "I'm...fuck ...I'm gonna...cum in your mouth Jihyo...I want you to taste my cum...one last time…”

Jihyo: "DO IT! FUCKIN CUM ON ME! ANYWHERE YOU WANT !! COVER ME IN YOUR CUM !! FUCKIN PAINT ME !! GIVE ME YOUR CUM K.O!!”

In the matter of seconds, Anurak cums hard, spills his thick cum all over Jihyo’s tits and nipples, making a huge mess down below her neck to her rack.

Following by Chakan, who's cum flys straight onto Jihyo’s right side, thick white spurt of cum splashing on to her cheek and nose, with a bit on her forehead.

Chalerm, holds  it in for a while, finally releases it straight to Jihyo’s other cheek, side lips and hair.

Both guys later tap their dicks on each of her big tits, both cocks are smearing the cum onto her nipples while bumping fist with each other, with Jihyo does her best to open her eyes, cum covered, cracks out a huge smile.

Jungwoo, does the same thing he did before, pokes his cock straight to her lips, pushes it in and out Jihyo's mouth for the final drain, and he does proudly, cums straight into her throat, all over her tongue, with a bit onto her front lips, finally finish this long sexual act.

The four guys drop to their knees, finally passing out from the intense rounds of cum draining, all are having their K.O like they just finished a championship match.

Jihyo wipes some of the cum on her face, parts of it from her tits, rise up and shakily walks over the tripod.

Her tits jiggle with cum roll down from her tits to her abs and thighs, while her pussy and anus leak out even more down the inside of her legs, staining the ring floor every steps she makes.

The training session might be wrapped with delays, but nonetheless with her full satisfactions.

Jihyo looks straight to the camera, opens her mouth full of cum, swallows it in one go, then turns back to the guys and says: "So guys, we'll redo the show tomorrow? Will be hella fun hehe~”

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

(seven) days a week, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: It only takes seven days (a week) for Jeon Jungkook to get you in his bed to fuck you right. And showing up in weird places. And kissing in the rain. He's crazy. Okay, it's kinda complicated.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language (reader swears a lot); strangers-to-lovers; vague allusions to a loveless childhood and bad parenting (no specifics); JK might be insane and you do tell him that he is; slight crack; fluff; smut (fem reader, fucking with clothes on and off, m and f-receiving oral, light hair pulling, fingering, nipple play, choking, penetrative sex, handjob); non-idol!BTS – persistent!Jungkook x noona, def tsundere!reader lol ft instigator-cupid!Park Jimin setting them up

this directly follows Jung Kook's 'Seven' MV, so make sure to watch it (although I'm sure you've seen it if you wanna read this lmao)

--

monday.

“What? Something on my face?”

You stared at him and he stared back. Wide eyes, slightly parted lips, the look of caught prey and all. You had your hands in front of you, long fingers laced together, elbows on the table. You probably shouldn’t have scowled like that. That was a bit rude, especially to someone you didn’t know well, but this guy had been staring at you all night and barely speaking to you, even when prompted, so you were getting both impatient and annoyed at accepting this invitation.

“You wear… a lot of jewelry,” Jeon Jungkook said out loud, with awe.

You looked down at your hands. Well. The rings, the bracelets, even the earrings on both your ears, all sterling silver or white gold. You had even swapped out the lower lobe piercing for a pair of dangling dice earrings with grey freshwater pearls. You liked the cooler tone to bring some death to your warm-toned skin.

“Yeah. Is that a problem?” Your low voice had an edge of guarded to it.

A quick, nervous head shake. “No. No, it’s cool. I’ve never seen a girl wear so many chunky rings like that. I didn’t think I’d like it either, but then I saw you.”

You opened your mouth to snap out a comeback and then his words hit you.

There was no doubt that Jeon Jungkook was cute. Black-brown hair with a lustrous quality. Bright, expressive dark brown eyes. Slightly rounded cheeks with a distinct jawline. He said he had, and you could see, tattoos and piercings, something you quite liked but not a requirement. Built body, in the way that people where when they were committed to taking care of their physical appearance. Not so much in vanity, but in the way that matched how they felt that they should look in their head. Respect for that. But, in this chance that was what you had expected to be his, Jungkook didn’t taken it.

He looked the part.

Didn’t act it, though.

Black blazer, matching trousers. White t-shirt. Dressy but not too much. To be honest, the outer appearance didn’t matter much to you. It actually mattered the least. You wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. Really. You were often told that you had too little patience for people, but, come on!

This conversation was awkward.

Hah.

You turned as you sensed a lively presence re-entering your icy atmosphere. Hmph. The actor playing Cupid in the instance. He looked the part too. Baby blue dress shirt with the top buttons undone. Ivory slacks, neatly pressed. Black hair perfectly curled over his forehead, framing an angelic face. Full lips forming an infectious smile that made his eyes disappear as small hands folded away the receipt and tucked his card back into his wallet.

“Ah, the waitress and I had a cute little chat,” flirty Park Jimin chuckled, giving you a little eyebrow wiggle. You rolled your eyes at him. “Did you guys have a nice talk while I was gone?”

“Um…?” Jungkook started, nearly afraid to glance at you for some support.

You gave Jimin a deadpan stare. “You trying to get her number?”

“Me? No, no!” he waved his hands, sitting back down to lean in. “She gave it to me anyway though.”

Figures Park Jimin would introduce you to a guy and also get the number of someone else in the restaurant. You deliberately hadn’t answered Jimin’s question, but he hadn’t noticed.

Jungkook, however, did.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed him deflate a little and you winced in unease, not sure if you should have avoided it, but at this point the waitress had returned, lashes aflutter and gushing about how they just had to try to fried ice cream and it was on the house, as long as Jimin promised to come back, right? Right?

Jimin promised of course, of course, with a big smile.

You completely ignored him and picked up one of the pieces of fried ice cream – mango, it seemed, by the color – and placed it on one of the small plates before setting it right in front of Jungkook.

He perked up and gave you these big, hopeful eyes.

You didn’t say anything but felt your cheeks flush and your gaze shift, putting on an expression of reluctant apology. After a half second, you bowed your head just a bit, shaking off the moment and serving yourself before serving Jimin.

What?

Damn flirt didn’t even notice.

-

tuesday.

“You didn’t like him?”

“I mean, there’s nothing to like or dislike. He barely said anything. Also, Jimin, I told you, I’m not really a relationship person,” you sighed into your phone, walking quickly to the train station. “I don’t want to give this guy the wrong idea about me. He didn’t really strike me as a fuck-around-and-find-out kinda guy.”

“You said you would change your mind for the right person though.”

Sometimes you thought Jimin argued with you just to argue.

“Yeah, and I don’t even know what kind of person he is because he didn’t say shit,” you barked back to that snippy tone on the other side of the line. Some idiot honked at you and you resisted the urge to flip him the bird. Maybe he wasn’t honking at you. The hanging out the window and catcalling could be to the couple walking next to you.

You highly doubted it.

Also, maybe you just wanted to give someone the middle finger because you couldn’t show Jimin right now how much you deeply appreciated him.

“Jungkookie’s just super shy, but wait a minute and he’ll make you his.”

You rolled your eyes. Damn bad habit that you were forming ever since you became friendly with this mildly infuriating angel. “He’s not making me do anything.”

“I’m telling you; he suits you perfectly. You’re being stubborn and not giving him a chance. Anyway, I gave him your number, so don’t worry!”

“Wait, you did wha–”

The roar of the subway train below cut you off.

“Oop, you’re at the station. You’re breaking up! Can’t hear you, byeeeeeee!”

You twitched as Park Jimin hung up on you.

Asshole.

You pulled your phone away from your ear and pulled up the app to pay for your ticket. Paused for a second. New message, unknown number. Then it was your turn, so you hovered your phone screen, heard the beep, and hurried to the correct train line, finding the one to take you home. It was hectic even now, still within the dregs of rush hour, so you didn’t even think to check for the content of the text until you sat down with a big sigh, somewhat of a fwump with your distressed bomber jacket and baggy cargo pants, both made of thick black fabric. The side of your jacket slid off, exposing your bare shoulder and tight white tank top.

The guy standing about a meter away from you snuck a glance in your direction.

You tucked your tongue in your cheek and yanked your jacket back in place with the hand that was holding your phone. Noticed the screen flash, reminding you of the notification.

Fuck it.

Pressed your thumb and your phone unlocked.

Hey, it’s me. Jeon Jungkook… I wanted to say that I’m sorry about not talking that much last night. I was really nervous because you were so pretty and self-assured. I was so impressed that nothing I could think of seemed like a good thing to say, so I blanked out. I’m very sorry. I hope it is okay for me to text you like this.

An essay.

You paused for so long that you felt your cheeks heat.

The fuck?

You frowned at yourself. For some reason, even though he hadn’t talked much, you could hear the text in your head as if Jungkook was speaking to you directly. Sense the anxiousness in the typed words. See those big eyes gazing right at you with a mixture of curiosity and wonder and what-ifs. You sighed, feeling defeated. It would simply be rude to not reply.

I apologize for being too intimidating.

You sent it before thinking. Aw, shit. That was a bit short, wasn’t it? Damnnit. You saw the sending quadlet of dots spinning slowly, struggling due to you being underground. Fuck. If you sent another message now, it might be out of order and that would just get confusing. And what else could you add? Oh, geez, you didn’t even confirm it was you. The conversation with Park Jimin must have scrambled your egg brains.

The train roared out of the tunnel.

All of a sudden, the message sent and a reply instantly popped up. Actually, a serious of bubbles, rapid-fire like bullets. The confirmation must have lagged.

You’re not intimidating at all! Well… not in a bad way. In a sexy way. I mean, in a good way! In a cool way, like you’re not afraid to say what you wanna say. I really admire that in a person, so I really admire that in you. Sorry, that was weird, wasn’t it? I made things weird… ㅠ.ㅠ

You blinked slowly at the messages. It was pretty clear Jungkook had sat there and pondered over the first message for quite a while and these subsequent ones were stream of consciousness spewing. Honestly, kind of funny. Heh. You could sort of imagine it. Maybe he hadn’t expected you to respond right away. Hm, you wondered if he had hoped you would. He really was trying hard, huh. For what? What was the reason?

You tucked your tongue in your cheek and responded anyway.

Oh, you’re definitely weird, but you never know. I might like that. What’s the outfit of the day, Jeon Jungkook?

Were you fishing for a photo? Of course. He would probably scramble to put on a good outfit to impress you. To your surprise, the downloading image icon popped up instantaneously, spinning, spinning. You tilted your head, surprised at the prompt obedience. He must have snapped a pic right away when you asked. It was taking time to load though. You saw some people getting off the train and looked up, checking the stop. Oh, yours was next.

You took care not to look directly at anyone around you, keeping your sling bag in your lap.

Then you looked down to the inquisitive dark brown eyes of Jeon Jungkook with messy black hair and a black leather jacket. White t-shirt. It was a selfie, so you couldn’t see the pants. It was something borderline vain about the angle, but also a seek of approval in that parted mouth, silver ring and stud dotting the edge of the right side, flash of white teeth and slight bite of the left side revealing a small mole at the center underneath his lower lip.

You twitched.

Bold, wasn’t he?

You weren’t sure if you liked it – well, you didn’t mind it, you just weren’t sure if you like-liked it, what was he trying to play at here, trying to get your heart to beat fast or something, hmph – and you clutched your phone pointedly, your rings clacking as you prepped your fingers to type back… something, be honest here… and your fingers wavered.

Shaking a little.

You let out a breath you hadn’t known you had been holding.

Oh, the pants are blue jeans, but I’m out right now so there’s no mirror to show you.

You heard your stop being called and stood up automatically, filing behind other people getting ready to step off, the train slowing down, everything slowing down, finding yourself staring at Jungkook’s expression in the photo, why were you staring, shifting your eyes quickly, then back, it wasn’t like Jeon Jungkook could see you, ugh, this was so annoying.

Do you want to see? I can take another photo when I get home.

You let out a frustrated exhale that no one else around you could understand. Maybe not even those closest to you would get it. But you knew what it meant, and knowing also frustrated you.

Being self-aware was a bitch.

You finally sent your answer.

I much prefer this look on you than the blazer. Is this your normal fashion style?

You had worn a flowing white blouse and floaty black skirt the night before at dinner, but it was not your typical style. Well, it was, but it was one of your work outfits since you had come straight from the office. Something you wore to not get in trouble with the dress code and knowing you would have to meet up with people later. Sometimes you were a little riskier if you were feeling frisky, but Jimin had told you to look nice for the friend he was introducing you to.

But maybe it would have been better to look more you.

Then again, the restaurant was pretty high end. They might not have let you in.

Oh. Yeah. Hahaha, I wore the blazer because Jimin-ssi told me to look nice for you. I guess this is street-style? I don’t know… I’m not fashionable, I only wear what I think is cool or comfy. What about you?

You strode out of the train and briskly walked to the elevator, muscle memory already knowing where to go, typing back. Pausing when you saw the vending machine. A green tea would be nice right now.

You veered off course and headed to stand in line.

I think my friends would describe my style as dark and strong. They’re always telling me I should dress more feminine or at least in less black, but one of my core traits is not listening to shit people say. And swearing.

You tapped your card and made your selection. Waited out the whirr and clunk. Didn’t pay much attention to the world around you. It was a typical day, people passing by, no warning feelings. And, besides, your phone was much more interesting right now.

You did not just think that.

You scowled at your reflection in the glass of the vending machine before picking up your drink.

I hope I get to see you sometime soon so I can appreciate it. :)

You raised an eyebrow at your phone as you ticked open the can and started walking again, taking a crisp sip. It was slightly irritating that he was better at flirting over text than in person. Or maybe it had just been the circumstance. Come to think of it, it would have been weird if he did with Jimin right there, although you were sure Jimin wanted to be there to witness whatever unfolded. The awkwardness was probably just as entertaining to him as it would be if Jungkook had been more forward.

Hmph.

What was more irritating was that you weren’t instantly annoyed by it.

Hmmmmph.

Are you saying you aren’t intimidated by me, Jeon Jungkook?

You hurried home, following the streetlights, breathless, not because you were running, but because you wanted to be home so you could be alone with…

I’m saying I like feeling your effect on me in person.

Him.

-

wednesday.

The next time you saw Jeon Jungkook, you were groaning and setting your forehead on the edge of washing machine, screaming internally. Would have banged it against the metal if you weren’t going to lose a substantial number of brain cells. You were going to pay cash because you wouldn’t get that card surcharge if you did but, of course, of course you had accidentally shorted yourself and pocketed the wrong amount.

Fuck!

Now you were already at the laundromat. Walk back home and lug your shit to and back to get the right amount? Or just forget it and pay the extra charge? You had already put the detergent in. Fuckity fuck fuck. Technically you could go home, it wasn’t that far, but, ugh, it was extra annoying today because you had slept late and now you were grumpily doing your life responsibilities. Come back a different day? No, you had specifically told yourself to get off your ass and get that pile washed. Damnnit, if you hadn’t slept late and scrambled your egg brains, this wouldn’t have happened!

But you had been talking to Jeon Jungkook.

Ending the conversation had been more difficult than you expected. You gritted your teeth, feeling stupid for pulling such a teenage move. Still young, huh? Young and stupid.

Grr.

You heard the metal slide of the money drawer being closed and then an approval ping!

You jumped back, freaked out at the thing you hadn’t done, and then snapped your head to the sudden presence next to you. Dark blue jeans with giant holes at the knees. Gray hoodie sliding off a built right shoulder. White ribbed tank top. Messy black hair. A piercing, no, two on the right side of open lips.

Big, round, dark brown eyes.

You noticed he was wearing a few silver rings himself.

“Um… hi? I noticed you were short a little so I just…” Jeon Jungkook trailed off, giving you a hopeful look.

You gawked at him.

“What are you doing here?”

Ouch. A little too snappy. Jungkook faltered, those peepers shifting. “Ah… well…”

You bit your tongue and reeled it back. “Sorry. I didn’t expect to see you, is all. Obviously, you came here to wash your clothes like everyone else.”

He reached up and scratched the back of his head nervously. Wait. Why was he looking at you like that?

“W-Well, actually… Jimin-ssi told me you normally come here on Wednesdays to do laundry and I was nearby so I figured., maybe, I’d just check if you were here…”

You stared at him.

“You’re stalking me?”

“N-No!” Jungkook sputtered, waving his hands frantically even though you hadn’t raised your voice.

There was a bristle to your tone though. Indignation and frigidity you couldn’t hide. You frowned, narrowing your eyes, cornering him with your gaze. There were only a few people on this slow day, which was why you picked Wednesday to do laundry, but all the patrons had AirPods or other earbuds in, busying themselves with their shoving of clothing in and out of the washers and dryers. No one was going to interrupt anyway.

Not their business.

“I… I…”

“And how did you recognize me anyway? My head was down,” you remembered, advancing on him, and Jungkook took a step back, swallowing hard. Your outfit was baggy too, dark denim jacket and jeans, the tight black tank hidden by the bulk.

“I couldn’t forget how beautiful your hair is,” he mumbled out quickly, looking a little too mesmerized by your fierceness. Forget that. “And your hands were on the edge of the washer. Your rings. The star chain bracelet you wear. I…”

He was fixated on your collarbones and the thin black choker around your neck.

Or lower.

“Oi! My face is up here,” you hissed, snaping your fingers and making him jerk his head. He had stopped backing up though. You pointed at him, somewhat rudely. Actually, very rudely, but whatever. “What do you mean, check if I was here? And who told you? That idiot. I’ll kill him.”

And why was Jungkook looking at you like that?

Like he thought you were hot when angry.

He better stop that shit because you were losing your irate demeanor for some fuckin’ reason.

“I texted you almost all night. That wasn’t enough?” you half-growled, half whispered.

A tiny head shake.

Ah, shit.

You deliberately did not think that was cute.

“I liked it so much that I…” Oh no, oh no, not that honest tremble and deep gaze into your eyes. “I was hoping I could talk to you again, in person, more bravely this time.”

You opened your mouth to sink in that verbal bite and nothing came out.

The entire laundromat could flood right now and you wouldn’t even notice because you were staring at Jeon Jungkook and wondering if this audacity was freaking annoying or freaking impressive. Not this damn guy within two days leaving you speechless. Well… actually, no, never mind the technicalities.

“Are you even thinking before you do things?” you grumbled, not yet backing down.

Jungkook stuck his hands in his hoodie pockets suddenly. Hm? Nervous and shaking? You couldn’t tell, but you watched him closely, observing his body language, your eyes following those lines.

“Mmmm…” He bit the left side of his lower lip. “No?”

You strongly resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

Shy smile greeting you, accompanying the lip bite.

“I’m just listening to my heart.”

Now you visibly cringed. “Don’t say stuff like that.” Looking away slightly, somehow unable to meet those honest eyes.

“Why? You don’t like it?” Genuinely curious.

“You don’t mean it.” He did mean it and you could see that he meant it but you did not want to admit that you knew that he meant it. Yeah. “You barely know me. We only talked over text.”

“But you gave me thoughtful, frank answers. I don’t believe that you were being dishonest,” Jungkook protested, following you over to the tables a few steps away from the washing machines. You dragged your laundry bag with you and kept your voice down.

“I told you, I’m a straightforward an honest person. I won’t lie to you. And I won’t hesitate to cut you off if you lie to me,” you reminded him.

He nodded. You wanted to shake him and yell at him to stop giving you those eyes. “So I just decided to do what I wanted to.”

You cocked your head at him in disbelief. “You didn’t think you went too far?”

What was with that mischievous smile? “I’m the all-in type.”

You let out a puff of air.

“Also, you haven’t told me directly that you don’t like it,” Jungkook pointed out, leaning toward you, smiling.

You gave him a deadpan stare. “You don’t get me,” you said back flatly.

Those dark brown orbs sparkled. “That’s okay. I don’t have to get you to think you’re cool, clever, and stunning.”

Your eyebrow twitched.

“And why do you say that? Because you see how people look at me? Because you enjoyed my useless facts and tangents last night? Because you think with your dick?” You added the last question with bite, leaning forward too, having enough of this, not really him but…

The fact that you didn’t want to tell him to fuck right off.

Silence.

Jungkook was staring into your eyes.

“The shape of your eyes is so… perfect.”

You felt your ears heat.

He raised a finger and traced the air right in front of your left eye, the scent of his clean cologne drifting in your direction. “The way they sharpen in the inner corner, like a bird of prey… And your irises are so dark and striking…”

You grabbed his finger out of the air.

“Don’t be… weird.”

Why did you pause? Hello? No way you’re being like this over this guy right now.

You pointedly pulled his hand down, pinning it to the table. “Pay attention.”

Jungkook was giving you this dreamy, hazy expression. “Huh? What were you saying?”

You narrowed your eyes. “You can’t even listen.”

He leaned in closer and you caught a whiff of that delicious cologne again. “Sorry. I will. Say it again, please. I’ll listen carefully.”

The fuck were you saying again? The lights of the old laundromat flickered but you barely noticed. A common occurrence in these ol’ mom-and-pop places. And, besides, you were staring at this determined, patient smile and mentally shoving down those butterflies that you definitely weren’t feeling, nope, violently compacting those distracting internalizations into a tiny, windowless box.

“You don’t seem very good at listening,” you finally said, tight and even.

“I am,” he insisted softly. “I promise.”

“I’m too much for you.”

Or was Jungkook too much for you?

“I’m offering all of me,” he whispered to the shared air between you and him. “It might not be enough so I’ll be to work hard and do my best.”

What was he so earnest for? You hesitated, the edges to your hard demeanor softening. You didn’t want to trust stuff like this. It was so easy to get burned and you wanted to be the one to do the burning. And how could you trust people? Even you didn’t say everything out loud. Some things you could say and some you couldn’t say. It was too much trouble to believe in someone.

You had never received unburdened kindness when you were younger.

“We’re not on the same page.”

Jungkook tilted his head. “Aren’t we? But you’re reading me easily and I’m doing my best to learn about you too.”

Your shoulders released the tension. “Don’t pretend with me. It’s clear you’re a relationship kind of guy. And, while I’m not against them, I can’t deliver the same kind of devotion you are willing to give. Can’t you see that?” You removed your hand from his, not realizing it was still there.

His fingertip traced a line on the back of your hand.

Sparks raced along the base of your head.

You remained stern, feeling heavy and hot in your clothes.

“Why do you say that? You don’t think you’re loyal?” he asked very sincerely.

Your eyes narrowed. “Of course, I am. If I like you in that way and you asked me to bury a body, I’d already be digging the grave. But I’m not a flowers-and-chocolate kind of girl. That’s not how I show affection.”

You had no idea how far your clothes were in the cycle. The whole world could crash down and you would still be staring at Jungkook and his body language. His shoulders slouched a little more so he could look up at you with those pleading eyes.

Inhale still in your throat.

“Then, do you not like me?”

Say something.

But you didn’t say anything at all, gazing down at Jeon Jungkook and wondering why you couldn’t get through his thick skull that you were a bad decision. Honestly? Honestly, fine, it was because you grew up with parents that never liked each other nor their kids. Honestly, it was because you grew up too fast and with too much independence to not see the filthiness of the world. Honestly, it was because you saw the finicky innate nature of humanity of never devoting themselves to anything, much less anyone, and why would they?

People were crazy.

Call it personal experience.

You sighed.

“Jungkook, I’m not gonna lie to you. I fuck before I care about anybody. I’m only living to get my pleasure and not take care of anyone, okay? I’m barely keeping my own head together. I’m blunt. I don’t need or want romantic gestures. I just want dick. There. I’m not a good person.”

He was smiling.

Aw, shit.

“I must be favored to know you.”

You twitched, tucking your tongue in your cheek to avoid scowling, which was pretty much scowling anyway, so you failed spectacularly.

“Also, you haven’t said you don’t like me,” Jungkook pointed out. Infuriatingly. “Because it’s not true and you don’t lie. Right?” He said your name with a little too much sweetness and knowing.

You yanked your hand out of his and shoved his hard, muscular chest. He bounced back, grinning a little too happily. You told yourself to hate it and you didn’t. Fuck. “What are you even still doing here? Gonna fold my clothes for me or something?”

The energy at being offered a household chore was disturbing. “Oh! I can! I’m very good at doing laundry. And washing dishes. And cleaning. I like doing that stuff.”

“Sure, you do,” you puffed sarcastically,

“I do,” Jungkook insisted, coming around the table. “And I’m good at it.”

You scrutinized him up a down. “Yeah? Because you don’t know where else to put all that energy of yours?”

His lips parted but all he did was gawk at you. Oop. Right on the money. You were liking this expression a little too much. Maybe it was time to lower these walls a bit. After all, it didn’t seem like Jungkook was going to go away any time soon. He was pretty harmless anyway.

“I could drain you in a night,” you chuckled, smirking.

The tips of his ears were getting red at your lowered tone.

“You think you could keep up?”

-

thursday.

Ugh, it was one of those days that fuckin’ suuuucked.

Woke up late and had to rush to get dressed and bounce, then got to work and some shit was going down about missing documents and people moving papers they shouldn’t have, forcing you to play manager because everyone else had no goddamn spine to fix anything. This department would be a disaster without you. To top it all off, you had people stalling, keeping an irrelevant conversation going, leading you on a wild goose chase with no funny honking – turns out the documents were in some random copier right behind you, for fuck’s sake – and you had a very strong inkling it was because of what you looked like.

Which was fine.

Unless you were actually trying to do your job.

Then, one of your side dishes you had brought for lunch had gone off, so you ended up slightly less full than you wanted to be, and you forgot your jacket at work, leaving it hanging on the back of your chair in your rush to leave, and the train halted several stations before your stop because there was some emergency maintenance or some shit.

Fuckity fuck.

It wouldn’t be so annoying it if wasn’t so windy, but it was and you were wearing a sheer sweater with splashes of jewel-toned colors and a longline black sports bra under it – you had worn your jacket half-zipped until your boss had left in the middle of the day and your co-workers didn’t care how you looked, the dress code was stupid anyway – and black jeans, mid-rise. The rules were more about being covered up rather than being professionally dressed.

The job was primarily sitting at a desk and sorting documents, did it matter how you looked?

Or maybe you just broke the rules a little because you were a rebel.

Your stomach growled angrily and you told it to shut the fuck up.

You stood on the corner halfway between work and home, debating on whether or not to do some damage. The problem was you didn’t have any of the usual bad habits most people had. You didn’t drink, so getting stupid drunk and getting thrown out of the noraebang was out of the question. Also, you couldn’t sing. But, anyway, you barely took medicine, let alone know where or how to procure the illegal fun stuff, so that was also out. You didn’t have a sweet tooth either so you couldn’t down a whole cake with gusto, although that sounded like a great way to go.

You sulked.

You had an addiction, but you just stared at the names in your phone and felt guilty. Guilty! For what? For some guy you met literally less than four days ago? Ugh, no, this couldn’t be you right now. Seriously? Seriously? You crossed and stalked up the block, not yet deciding what to do so you kept walking until you figured it out during this internal battle. You had to keep this guy at a distance. Okay, yes, you could admit you liked him.

And that was the problem.

If you didn’t really like him, you could just fuck him and establish those hard boundaries. No issue. You had been in love before but that was a long time ago and ultimately you ended it because it wasn’t right and you weren’t good enough to be devoted to.

You breathed out hard, the unease spilling out of your insides.

It was definitely easier to not expect anything from anyone. You had spent a lot of life not having and, ultimately, not needing to rely on others, both out of necessity and simply having too much to work on by yourself. Years of fighting off bitterness that you had always tasted, years of letting go of important moments realizing that supposedly important people in your life would never be there for them, years of lashing out and becoming the shadow of the abuse you endured. Eye for an eye and all that. Keep the cycle going, until you had that moment in the eye of the storm to get hit by lightning and realize that this wasn’t right.

It wasn’t any particular thing.

Just finally accepting the creeping self-awareness that you had been miserable and were making other people miserable on purpose because you tore them open and took their hearts to find yours.

Metaphorically, duh.

So now you sort of did this martyr shit of being there for people when you could and not asking for anything back. Especially not a relationship. Intimate to heal a heart and then give it away, which totally worked if they weren’t into you, just into what you could do.

You didn’t really feel it yourself but you did get sex out of it.

Bad addiction, yeah.

Your phone vibrated in your pocket.

You ignored it.

Stepped into a chicken place and stood in line, feeling the weight of your world on your shoulders. You brain tried to reason with you that it was Jeon Jungkook’s own fault if he got hurt. He was the one who chose to spend all that time sitting at the laundromat with you talking about random shit. Your favorite video game – Persona 5, excelling in your top three most important things about a video game: music score, gameplay, and art style. Your favorite American rapper – Ludacris and the way he could rhyme the weirdest words. Your favorite movie genre – surrealist psychedelic drug movies, which earned you a confused head tilt. You had asked Jungkook what he liked. Mood lamps. Singing. Watching cooking videos on YouTube.

Had asked him if he believed in soulmates.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket as you ordered at the kiosk and paid.

You don’t think I could have met you in another life?

You stood with the other waiting patrons, ignoring everybody and your phone thrumming against your hip, thinking about last night.

I probably broke your heart.

Thinking about that smile with two piercings and a lip mole. That smile didn’t trust your answer at all.

Maybe the universe is giving me another chance to make up for my past mistakes. I can’t give up.

You made a face at past Jungkook’s answer, too taken aback all those hours ago to scowl properly. Maybe you had been too tired. Too worn down by his earnest nonsense to fight it properly at that moment. Your hand hovered over you hip, wondering if you should check it. Then dropped.

What, did you need to see him every day or something?

Your name was called and you stepped up to receive your order.

Oh, fuck, you miss him.

You yanked your phone out of your pocket and stared at it as you walked out of the restaurant, only to get plopped by a fat raindrop on the lit-up screen. You looked up to the gray sky and let out a hiss.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!”

You turned around and sat down, grumbling as rain poured down and you replied to Jungkook’s texts.

Stupid.

Not him. Just you.

-

friday.

“What are you trying so hard for?” you snapped.

“Why aren’t you trying hard enough?” Jeon Jungkook shot back.

It was going really well.

Clearly.

You let out a hiss and flicked your hands as if you were trying to physically get rid of his reply. Argh, this… man! The thundering rain was pouring down, down, and you were both standing under a bus stop with no intention of taking the bus. You bit back the volume of your sudden anger. There was no need to yell anyway. No one was coming out in the thick of this monsoon.

Only you and crazy-ass Jeon Jungkook.

Switched tactics. "And what makes you think your virgin ass–"

"I'm not a virgin!"

"You are here!"

And you jammed two fingers into that very muscular chest, right next to the left side of his sternum. Too fast to be stopped. The shove actually made him stumble. Or maybe it was the utter shock of the verbal and physical double jab combined with the deep growl that your voice had suddenly become. His racer jacket and black hair were slick with rain. Half of his white t-shirt soaked. Even the front of his blue jeans drenched.

You panted hard after your outburst, the anger draining away all in a flash of lightning.

Jungkook stared at you with stricken eyes.

The rain pelted down, down, beating into the silence.

“How did you know?” he breathed out.

You didn’t but somehow you did, feeling something inside of you break. Not afraid of the world. Never, never again. No, afraid of what you could do, afraid of breaking something this pure, because you broke your first love too and that past guilt still lingered. Not that you thought Jungkook loved you. He couldn’t This was only the fifth day of him knowing you.

The fuck is going on?

“I see your type all the time,” you sighed, your damp hair all over your face. “Looking for light in black holes instead of stars.” The rain had slipped off your black leather jacket. Your cropped band shirt wasn’t wet, but your black cargo pants were sodden knees down.

This coldness, however, didn’t come from the rain.

“You really should stop. For your own good.”

You looked away from him, feeling as if your own words had pierced bullet holes into your walls. Dark sky, never-ending rain, cars struggling to drive, people running with umbrellas and ponchos, arms huddled close to their bodies, and here you were just standing here in the rain, the world acting out your mind. How nice. You thought you had come to terms with everything, but obviously not. Somehow once you saw Jungkook again, once you felt his presence again, the pull was even stronger and the storm was even more intense and the worst part was that you didn’t want to leave.

You heard Jungkook’s soft, silvery voice through the gray rain.

“Why are you blaming yourself for shit that hasn’t even happened yet?”

You turned your head to look into those pleading brown eyes.

Lightning shot across the sky.

Thunder followed seconds after, eating up the night.

“W… What?”

He shook his head, dripping water.

“You haven’t hurt me. You don’t mean to, either.”

That smile, his hand extended, the inked snake on his wrist showing.

You stared at Jeon Jungkook with droplets beading on your skin but those goosebumps weren’t from the weather. Jerked your head away. What is with this gentleness? How could he know anything? He couldn’t know anything. He was just an airhead who watched too many dramas and made others believe that they could be real.

“Noona?”

You whipped your head to Jungkook, shocked at his use of the honorific. He only used it when Jimin was at the meal. Afterwards, the conversations had been clearly directed at you. Not completely informal speech, but sometimes you slipped and he did too. You never corrected him because, well.

You slapped his hand away.

Nothing was going to happen.

You closed the distance and grabbed his head, pressing your lips to his shaking ones.

It was going to be terrible. Cold. Wet. Acidic from the lingering feelings. There was no way that this kiss could be anything else with this setting.

This was real life.

Not a story.

Your hands cupped his cheeks and you sunk into his kiss. The hard edge of his jewelry and the softness of his breath, caught by your mouth, your eyes already screwed shut, nothing to do but feel, feel the way he instantly pressed back and set his hands on your elbows, pulling you closer, shuddering as your forearms pressed to his chest. A weird feeling, like two fires melting together, prickling racing across your skin, no, deeper, past your ribs and into your heart.

The storm raged on.

You snapped out of the kiss, nose to nose, water trickling in places it shouldn’t, over your eyelashes and down your neck, feeling fingers graze across your elbows. Slipping under the leather. Droplets soaking into your shirt and then warm hands lingering at the curve of your exposed waist.

Tracing your lines.

“Fuck,” you muttered.

And you kissed Jeon Jungkook again.

-

saturday.

No, you didn’t take him home. You’re reckless, yeah.

But you knew how that would go.

Not that Jungkook didn’t try. Maybe you would have done it, if you weren’t the equivalent of wet cat and equally torrenting emotions. His hands around your waist, pulling you closer, heat blossoming between layers of rain-drenched clothing, kiss after kiss, your hands in his hair, tangling those dark waves into wilderness, getting more and more breathless, heady with a feeling you knew but didn’t want to believe in.

For someone who hated lying, you sure enjoyed lying to yourself.

You had reasons.

How could this time be different if it was just following the same trajectory that you always followed?

You had to pry yourself from him, lips tingling, tongue curling, feeling your blood course through your veins and your heartbeat as loud as thunder, opening your eyes to his blissed-out expression, his own eyes still closed, pressing his lips together to savor your taste.

Damn.

You had wanted to tell him to stop it, stop it with all this falling, you were being dragged down by his vibe, clothes feeling heavy, desperate to be stripped away, but you kept your hands along the sides of his head, your exhale escaping but giving you away like a bad con artist.

Those shimmering dark eyes had opened, following Jungkook’s smile.

“You’re a great kisser, noona.”

His hands stayed on your waist, drumming his fingertips on your skin, tangible kisses creating invisible but no less real electricity.

You scoffed, corner of your lips rising.

“Shut up.”

Tendrils of his black-brown hair clung to his forehead. The rain drummed but it had lessened a bit. You had looked back to his eyes, defeated.

“Shut up so I don’t miss you more.”

One last, drawn-out kiss, tongue to tongue and you had broken from him, warning him sternly.

“Don’t follow me.”

Ran all the way home, face burning, not even feeling the rain even though it was still falling.

Now, present time, you sat at this boring farewell party in some fancy hotel with the sun blaring outside. Figures the nice weather would come out when you would have to stuff yourself in a fitted blazer dress and pretend to care about your boss’s boss retiring. Black, of course. For the formal occasion. Sadly, no one was dying except this old coot’s career.

Maybe you were a little salty that you couldn’t retire yet.

You looked down at your phone, which was on silent, noticing you had a new message.

ㅎ.ㅎ

O… Okay. Whatever that face was supposed to mean. You didn’t even bother to answer. Couldn’t, anyway, forced to plaster on a mildly interested expression as your boss gave a speech that you zoned out of. There were multiple large circular tables in the hotel ballroom. Outside the ballroom was an outdoor area with the buffet. Everyone had served themselves before sitting down, but, first, a few words.

A few was turning out to be too many and your salmon was getting cold.

Employees had been allowed to bring plus ones. Wives and husbands. There were a few empty seats, and a few significant others popped in mid-speech, trying to be quiet and politely bowing in apology. Of course, they weren’t required to be on time, having other obligations and such.

You twitched.

Was that why this was dragging on? So everyone could eat at once? For fuck’s sake, who cared if they were late. Then you noticed your boss’s wife stepping in, looking pretty and put-together in a forest green high-necked dress, holding the small hand of a kid in a lopsided children’s tuxedo with an equally confused expression.

Oh.

Come on.

You suddenly felt a disturbance in the Force.

“Excuse me. Sorry, sorry.”

You whipped your head around to see Jeon Jungkook in a black pinstripe suit cha-cha sliding in the empty chair next to you, picking up your black velvet purse and holding it out to you with a grin that made his large, dark brown eyes light up.

You gawked at him.

“Hey. Sorry I’m late.” He added your name politely and with affection, smooth as butter, criminal undercover. Even the honorific, oh, shit.

The blood drained out of your face and you tried not to think about how your co-workers sitting at the table were staring at you and him like you both had three heads. Of course, no one was supposed to be talking, so no one asked questions yet, but that was definitely going to start the second your boss was finished with his sentence.

You took your purse without another word and glared at Jungkook with such fire that you hoped he burned alive at the spot. Oh, this could turn into a murder and a funeral real fucking fast. All he did was give you those shining big peepers that made you want to strangle him. In an unsexy way.

For now.

You leaned over as the clapping started. He caught on and delicately leaned over, offering his ear to your lips.

“The fuck are you doing?”

Jungkook turned his head so only you could hear his whisper.

“I was nearby, so I figured…?”

You stared at him, plumb slack-jawed at this audacity.

He closed the distance and gently kissed your cheek. You ticked your head almost robotically, piercing eyes following his playful ones, and now you wondered if Jeon Jungkook was truly not right in the head or perfect for you.

Well.

You weren’t right in the head either.

You did text him earlier this morning that you needed to come to this party at this hotel to send off this important retiree. If you missed this, then it would have reflected poorly on you, especially when you wanted to keep your job, so, yes, it was part of the reason why you had not attempted to convince Jungkook to sleep over – not that he needed any convincing whatsoever – and the other reason was to get enough sleep so you could tolerate socializing. Did you think Jungkook was gonna finesse his way into the seat next to you? Hell no. Did you think he was gonna dress smartly and with his black hair parted neatly in the center, fuckin’ black tie pressed and collar pinned? Fuck, no.

Did you think you would like it?

No!

“How did you get them to let you in?” you hissed under your breath.

Jungkook was clapping like a seal because everyone else was. A champagne bottle was being popped. He looked systematically impressed and awed. Amazing acting. “I just said I was with you.” Glanced at you and grinned, the silver piercings on his lip gleaming. A hoop and a stud. “Aren’t I, noona?”

The urge to growl at him to shut the fuck up was silenced by your brain reminding you to be safe-for-work.

You felt a poke at your sleeve. Your co-worker sitting at your left, bleach-blond and with the curiosity of a child. Full of sudden comments and questions too, just like a kid.

“Oh, oh! You never mentioned anything about a boyfriend!” Because you didn’t have one until right now, apparently. “So handsome!” Yes, he was. You had taste. “How did you meet?” Circumstances beyond your control.

“Through a… friend.”

That was a very generous word for instigator Park Jimin.

Jungkook poked his head past you and waved. “Hi! Nice to meet you.” He was using you as a shield to avoid directly interacting with these people he didn’t know. Just chiming in with polite nods as you introduced him to the table and sitting back to let you have this uninvited spotlight that was burning you like the sun did to vampires.

Pretty close, in all honesty.

“Aw, what a sweet guy. It’s nice to meet you too. I didn’t think your type was so young and cute.”

You almost made a face of distaste. “You thought my type was old and ugly?” Oop, there goes your sharp tongue.

“Nooo.” You tried not to flinch at the playful slap of your arm. “More mature, maybe? But this is better. You don’t have to be so serious. Look at his smile! I bet that’s what drew you in.”

You glanced at Jungkook and he appropriately smiled big at the right time. Somehow, he had obtained a plate of steak. How, you didn’t care. You narrowed your eyes just a sliver. Jungkook did not stop smiling but there was at least an iota of fear in those big brown eyes. Speaking of vampire, maybe you should suck the life out of him because he was being too fuckin’ much.

“Well, he was persistent to put it lightly. Might as well give him the chance to win me over.”

Jungkook beamed like a billion-kilowatt lightbulb. Or a crystal chandelier. It depended if you wanted to say the light came from his white teeth or sparkling eyeballs.

Fuckity fuck.

You wanted to rub your temples but refrained.

You would never recover from this.

“Are you mad at me?” Jungkook asked you later.

Oh, now he wondered if you’re mad. You didn’t even look at him, dragging him away from the crowd by the elbow. Hopefully you had stayed long enough but there had been so many of the same questions that you were either getting dizzy or murderous. Hm. Why not both?

“I’m not mad at you,” you muttered.

“You kinda sound mad.”

“I’m not mad but I’m gonna get mad if you keep saying I am,” you warned. “Don’t start a self-fulfilling prophecy.”

“A what?”

“Where did you park?”

His voice became small even though he was right next to you. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

The sun was blaring down on the open parking lot, it was annoyingly humid, you were socially drained, and this, not this. You spun abruptly, too much crashing down too fast, flinging Jungkook’s arm from you.

“No,” you hissed out. “No. Don’t you dare take it back. You wanna be crazy and drive me crazy, fine, do it, keep doing it, don’t stop, but own up. I’ve got enough push-and-pull jammed into my head and I don’t need you adding to it.”

It was so easy to simply give in to the rising anger, but you found yourself locked into Jungkook’s wide, taken-back eyes, drowning in them, deeper than the ocean, seeing how rueful he was.

“Don’t do that to me,” you sighed.

At least your voice didn’t crack. You didn’t want to be angry anyway.

You raised your hand to cup his cheek but paused, not knowing anymore what was what. Always been so sure until the world started getting flipped upside down by Jeon Jungkook. You always knew all of the things to do to make someone interested, all the things to say to make them swoon, and now you didn’t know anything at all because this guy showed up and jumped right in, not even caring about the damages, the fine print, or the past that lingered.

Why are you blaming yourself for shit that hasn’t even happened yet?

Jungkook leaned forward and completed the curve of his cheek into your hollow palm, now looking at you eye-to-eye with a curious expression.

The corner of your lips curved upwards.

You leaned forward, saying your next words very seriously.

“You. Are. Crazy.”

-

sunday.

You sat against the window, waiting for the document to print out.

No one was in the office. You had rolled over here out of sheer boredom, looking up at the gray-blue sky and watching shafts of sunlight phase in and out. Overtime to prepare documents for Monday. You hadn’t bothered to follow dress code, but there was a breeze today, so you wore brown plaid trousers and an old vintage t-shirt with the sleeves cut off. The faded album cover of Papa Roach’s Infest. Your oversized black leather jacket was on the back of your office chair once again.

You spun in your chair, the print job long done.

Thought back on the week.

Day one, awkward dinner and the start of a rollercoaster.

Day two, clutching your phone and waiting for replies due to the spotty service of the subway.

Day three, washing machines and dryers and long conversations.

Day four, shitty day with a nice ending to more texts. Better service too.

Day five, cold rain and warm lips.

Day six, surprise! You have a boyfriend and everybody knows!

You got up and wandered to the copier. Stacked everything up and clipped the right parts together, setting it on your boss’s desk. Glanced at the time at your computer. The blank screensaver abruptly appeared, showing you your blurred reflection.

Your fingertips lingered on your chest, the soft, worn fabric of the shirt reminding you of night after tumultuous night of the past. Time that made you, you. Scars you made by holding on too tightly to pain others gave you. The thought of scars in others that you started and they held on to. Repenting, in a way, healing the hearts that came in your path with intimacy and the passion you were afraid to show Jeon Jungkook because what if, what if…

What if it actually matched well?

“You,” Park Jimin had said to you months ago, “You need someone who thinks of you as their whole world.”

“I don’t want that.”

“You don’t want it. But you need it.”

You didn’t have Park-Jimin-being-right on this year’s bingo card, fuck.

You clocked out and collected your stuff, turning off the lights as you left the office, black boots the only solid sound around you, pulling out your phone to check the address one more time.

“Why are you wearing clothes?” you asked accusingly.

“Um…?”

You gripped the sides of the denim jacket and yanked it off his shoulders, pinning Jeon Jungkook’s arms to his sides. He immediately yelped but you silenced him by stepping through the door and pulling him to you by the button placket, tracing the edge of his open lips with your tongue.

“W-Wait, noona, the d-door…”

“I don’t care.”

Kissed him, deeply.

That now familiar scent, closer, slipping your tongue between his lips, succumbing to the flutters. In, out, feeling him collapse under you and moan in his throat, hard body stumbling into yours, hand haphazardly smacking the edge of the door.

It closed behind you.

You rolled your body into his, closer than close with too many layers in between, tangling his arms in his own jacket, swallowing his gasp and feeling him wiggle determinedly to free his hands and then they were on your face, strong fingers fanning out over your jaw, his jacket falling to the floor, hungrily following your tongue and lips with his own.

Something addicting about the addition of metal to those soft mouth.

This was your forte, the ability to make fantasies come true, and you took it seriously, throwing your bag onto the table by the door and shedding the protective layer of leather. Pressed chest to chest, holding his head and tracing his lips, slow fucking them, running your fingertips over the curve of his ears and making him shiver, noting the three hoops along his left ear.

Pressed your hands down his chest, over the smooth ribbed white tank molding to his muscular torso, down, down, kissing past his lips, to that mole underneath, down his chin, his head tipping back, your name drifting above your head as you kissed down his neck, the sharp clean scent of his cologne getting stronger.

“I thought… we were… o-oh, g-going out…”

“I’m gonna fuck you,” you breathed into his collarbones, hot and low, nicking his skin with your teeth and making him shiver. “Right now. Tonight. Maybe tomorrow too.” Undid the button of his jeans with some effort, yanking him towards you again and molding your hips to his, thighs to hard thighs, and that stiffness wasn’t only a sturdy zipper. “Tuesday as well. Fuck it.”

“The whole week,” Jungkook gasped as you unzipped his charcoal jeans.

“Yeah, good, you’re keeping up,” you murmured and grabbed his head again, catching a fistful of his black hair, kissing him hard with your other palm pressed to his hardness. Your tongue tracing the edge of his lips, breathing into his mouth and swallowing Jungkook’s wanton moan, intoxicated by the moment.

You pulled back just to yank your shirt over your head, tossing it to the floor.

It took longer for it to float down than for you to get on your knees.

“Woah…!”

Hooked your fingers on the elastic waistband of his Calvin Kleins and tugged them down, exhaling over that thick length that popped out. He smelled clean, like he had just showered, and you half-smiled, approving, closing the distance to curl your tongue around hard taut skin.

“Ooooh… fuuuuuuuck…”

Tightly taking control, using only your tongue to scoop around his girth and flick against his balls. Kisses, licks, flutters of breath, all of it, sensation after sensation, layering on the heat, adding sweetness to the obscene, his twitching cock hitting your cheek as you pressed kisses to his balls.

“Let me show you something,” you hummed and swallowed his pride.

Jungkook gasped so loud that his hands shot up to his mouth, fingers laced over his moan, one inked arm and one tan one, tilting his head back as your lips closed around him, softly, your tongue cupping the head, caressing the underside, the slit, letting him throb against wet muscle. Pushed him up to the roof of your mouth and slowly, in and out, rubbing the base of the head against your lips every time you ascended, fanning your fingers over his crotch to hold the base and cup his balls in between your index and thumb. Steady and consistent, sucking him off with deliberate precision.

You had a lot of fancy skills to show off but, for this first time, might as well give him the stripped-down version.

Heh.

So you blew Jungkook at his front door in your bra and pants with his clothes half-on and struggling to breathe.

“A-Ah, so s-soft… and so tight… h-how…”

You didn’t speed up. Didn’t put in more force. Used your whole torso, not just your head and neck, to avoid strain, holding his hips to take him deeper but at the same pace, letting the orgasm build with his heart rate, running your thumbs over his balls, a gentle caress, closing your eyes to savor it. Hard and twitching, but you didn’t let him disturb what you had going on, extending out the minutes, saturating every second with flowing, unavoidable bliss.

What?

You could match his vibe with your kind of romance.

You heard Jungkook’s pitch hike and the muscles under your fingers all tensed up. You spared a look upwards, but he wasn’t looking at you, shoving his hands into his messy black hair, displaying his prominent triceps, and moaning to the ceiling, dragging his bangs over his eyes.

“Oh my God, I’m cumming, fuuuuck…!”

You pillowed your tongue around the head and his salty orgasm flooded your mouth, spilling out and down your throat, but you cupped what you could and coated the sensitive head, pleased to hear Jungkook’s shudder and whimper of ecstasy, gripping his hair and pulling. The close-fitted nature of his tank top left nothing to the imagination, the aftershock rippling up his chest, even his hardened nipples poking against the fabric.

You swallowed.

Jungkook moaned and his head fell back again, his eyes probably rolled back.

Gotta finish him off right.

You licked around him carefully, cleaning him off and keeping him hard.

“You…”

Cocked an eyebrow as you shifted your eyes up, his cock buried in your throat, pulsing your muscles around his length. His chin was on his chest, wayward dark curls hanging down, shaking wide eyes watching you with fascination, his shaking voice full of awe.

“You know… how porn calls it a mouth-pussy? I really thought that shit was fake and sounded stupid, but… you have a mouth-pussy.”

You blinked at him and tried not to snort out in laughter.

You just raised both eyebrows and flicked his balls with your tongue. A few seconds later, you pulled back and countered with, “Really? Mouth-pussy? That’s how you show gratitude for the best suck of your life?”

“B-But it’s true!”

You shook you head and waved a hand at him.

“Clothes. Off.”

Every hour, every minute, every second.

Full of sex.

Jungkook wasn’t lying. He wasn’t a virgin. He was a little too good at fingering to be a virgin. Well, you hadn’t had his dick yet but it was pretty obvious with the slow circles on your clit and the kissing of your collarbones. Clothes didn’t even make it to the bedroom. Most of them were left by the door. Your shoulder blades and ass touching the bed, his other hand along your back and tracing your spine as he kissed across your breasts, shyly shifting his gaze back to your face to constantly check if you were enjoying it, not quite confident that he was making your heart flutter. You smirked back at him, taking his hand and pressing his fingers to your wet slit, pushing them in yourself.

He breathed out with you, watching your face as the pleasure snaked out from your core.

Two of them, taking it slow, but you shook your head and pressed his down, your hard nipple against his lips, and he followed your lead, faster, harder, your inner walls clenching around him, sighing deeply as the pleasure flowed, soft licks and tracing tongue. You let him have it, the slower, more romantic pace, spreading your fingers over his sheets and thrusting into his hand, adding to the pleasure, and Jungkook’s eyes glittered, kissing from one nipple to another with a smile.

“Harder?”

“And faster,” you agreed, licking the air between you and him.

Hey, you weren’t a virgin either and you liked it rough.

He kissed you first, entranced by your tongue, harder, faster, your hips following his hand, entangled in this beat, and then it was back to your nipples, kissing sucking, sparks of sensuality over your skin, your hands diving into his hair. Heat. Roughness. Passion, catching your breath and your head falling back, inhaling his scent and the clean sheets, the orgasm flooding through you, delicately forming his name with your lips.

“Ah, Jungkook…”

You didn’t let it stop there though.

His hand moved to pull out and you clutched his wrist and pushed him back in, your nail catching his ring finger, collecting it too, gasping at the added fullness, and you pulled his left hand out from under your back.

Jungkook watched you curiously as your rode his right hand and turned his left, thumb down.

You fitted it around your neck and positioned it correctly, grinning devilishly at him.

He got the hint.

Slightly unsure at first but you built his confidence, comfortably laying back on his bed and spreading out your fingers, moaning softly for him, rocking your hips into his hand, climbing to the high again, stronger his time. His fingers pressed inwards and you breathed out, savoring the choking, the way time slowed down, the way the sensations heightened, your spine arching, low gasp like heavy smoke, immortalizing the moment in his memory, black pupils blown out in those beautiful dark eyes, leaning forward to run his tongue over your nipples.

Your fingers curled into the sheets, thrusting into his fingers harder.

Lids heavy, drowning in the pleasure, his tongue, his hands, the way he looked at you like you were his whole world, the tension between you and him, sweet and intense and overwhelming, just perfect, your exhale only a thin wisp now, closing your eyes and moaning to the ceiling as you came.

It was a hard, thundering pulse, much more powerful than before, your shivering pussy gripping his fingers and your hips bucking. Thighs snapping closed, whining as you felt the hardness of his tattooed forearm, your head snapping to the side the second he released you, the rushing blood knocking you down and making your nerves sing, strong flinches across your arms and torso. Gasping to catch your breath.

Wasn’t his first time choking, but maybe the first time he got really turned on by it, because Jungkook was ogling you like a three-star Michelin meal.

It was like that all night.

From the first time he entered you, one condom wrapper the start of many, biting the left side of his lip and shuddering – “H-How are you so tight…? I just f-fingered you – oooh!” – and you wrapped around him tightly, smirking a little too smugly, one arm around his neck and one leg on his shoulder. Your fingers petaled around the base of his head, cupping him in the flower of your touch. Your thigh against his hard chest still trembling from your kisses. You angled your hips and he slipped in deeper, groaning in disbelief, his brows furrowing at you.

“H-Hey!”

Your tongue pocketed in the side of your smirk and you fucked him right.

“Gah!”

Jungkook, too, fucked you right.

You lead the pace so he could bring the force of his hips. Ah, fuck, right there, like that, and you let him know, the cries tumbling out and mixing with his, rushing wave after wave pressing into you, filling you with his girth and his power. You brought the intensity, the flint to his flame, the break in his pride and Jungkook was looking down at you, shoulders flexed, jaw tight and eyes hazy, clear emotion swirling within them and you saw your own gaze fixated on him, wanting him more than you wanted the sex.

Oh.

Shit.

You gasped and dug your nails into his scalp, grasping the pillow and throwing your head back, not expecting the suddenness of your high, injected into your heartbeat and pushing all the air out of your lungs, veins ablaze with heat as your core clenched, inner walls throbbing all around him. Jungkook groaned, biting his lower lip and thrusting hard, the small mole underneath shaking just as hard as his shoulders, but he couldn’t hold back any longer, squeezing his eyes shut, muffled scream as he came, his head falling back, two tones the start of an ongoing, wanton melody.

“Holy… fuck…”

Well, more like unholy fuck but you didn’t correct him.

You kind of expected him to pull out and leave, but instead his head snapped back and he dived down, catching your lips and dripping sweat on you, making you both laugh. Kiss after kiss, all over your face, and you could barely sputter out – “Oi, you’re sweaty!” – but he didn’t care, kissing all over your cheeks and down your neck, your chest, slurping at your nipples, you narrowed your eyes at that but those playful eyes just sparkled with deviousness, trailing down, down.

Slowing.

Jungkook pressed his lips to your waist, looking up at you.

Your heart thundered against your chest and sparks danced over your skin.

Somehow at ease.

“What?”

You smiled down at him.

“I don’t ever want to leave your side.”

Your lips parted to give him a snappy comeback, yeah, well, I gotta go to work, but nothing came out.

Jungkook grinned, his whole face lighting up and dove between your legs, biting and kissing the inside of your thighs, attacking them with his menacing mouth.

“Hey! Oi! I’m sensitive, f-fuck!”

Even planting a fat wet kiss on your clit for good measure.

“Ah!”

Shoving his tongue in your pussy.

“YO!”

You gawked at his audacity, twisting away from him. Infuriatingly, he followed, scrambling for your ass.

“There was just a condom in there!”

“Ah, who cares,” said the one that clearly didn’t. “Kiss me.”

“Hell no!”

After cleaning up and pinning him down on his own bed and thoroughly scolding him, somehow you ended up making out with Jungkook and his fingers were in your pussy again. It sounded very wet and squishy down there, probably because you showed Jungkook just now much you liked kisses under your earlobe. His tongue against your skin, teeth nicking, sucking hard and making you moan and grind on his hand, pressing against his chest.

“Sit on my face,” he whispered in your ear.

Which was know you ended up grasping his headboard and his tongue between your legs, the piercing pressed against the left side of the outer lips. You kept your weight on your knees, but Jungkook grabbed your ass and tipped your hips at a different angle, your clit right on his tongue, his nose against your crotch.

“Fuuuuck, you smell so good…”

You could barely hear him but you felt him speak, gasping at the strange sensation of hot breath and swiping tongue, his lips wrapping around your most sensitive nerves. He had a much softer tongue, but there was consistency there and plenty of gusto. It helped, actually, to have his hands gripping your thighs, adding the amplifying pleasure of restraint. You rode his face, matching the movement of his tongue. One of your hands left the headboard. Trapped your nipples between your fingers and pulled at them, making Jungkook’s eyes go wide and watch eagerly, licking and sucking harder.

Layered and intricate, full of sensation and emotion, gazing down at him and smirking as the sparks turned into lightning and you soaked his face, shivering, tipping forward at the flinches of climax, swearing under your thin breath, panting, snapped tension draining you and wetly sticking to his lips, his tongue, his cheeks.

He shoved his tongue into your quivering pussy and you sucked in a breath, feeling your inner walls pulsate around his curling muscle, his low, gravelly moan filling what little air there was between his mouth and you, his satisfaction vibrating through your body and mixing with your afterglow.

You slid down his chest and kissed him again, tasting your subtle sweet-sour on his slick lips.

He wanted you to jack him off hard and fast, the fingers of your other hand splayed out over his chest, forgetting about anything else, time only a construct, your phones discarded by the door, and here, in this bed, there was only Jungkook and you, his cock pulsing in your grip, your foxy expression to his desperate one, his eyes rolling back in the intensity, biting down hard on the left side of his lip, the small mole underneath shaking in anticipation, the tendons of his neck popping out.

You raised your free hand and gently stroked his cheek with your knuckle as you punished his cock.

His lower lip popped out of his mouth and he groaned, rough and breathless.

“A-Ah, fuck!”

A hot stream of liquid dripping down the back of your hand, drenching you and him in the strong scent of sex. Thick and potent, and you leaned forward and kissed him deeply, tightly holding his jerking cock and squeezing it all out of him.

“You’re amazing,” Jungkook panted, even after getting up – once again – to attempt to clean up your collective mess.

“Mhm,” you hummed, sitting beside him. He was radiating heat. “I was never worried about that.”

“Hah… You’re… You’re crazy…”

You had obtained your phone and just now sent a message to your boss that you would be taking a sick day on Monday. You have plenty of those. “Speak for yourself.”

“I mean, you’re like… um… uh, oh! A semen demon…”

“What?”

You almost threw your phone in laughter. Actually, you couldn’t even hear Jungkook’s explanation for what the hell he meant by semen demon because you were laughing too hard, barely able to breathe. There wasn’t a normal explanation anyway – how could there be? – and you kept inelegantly snorting afterward at inappropriate times. Jungkook, for his part, seemed proud for making you laugh so much.

“You look so beautiful laughing.”

Your response was quick, immediate, and lighthearted.

“Shut up.”

He snuggled his still too warm head into the crook of your shoulder.

“Will you stay?”

You gave him a look and then showed him the sent text message on your phone. There was something special and perfect about the smile that lit up his face, clearly showing his devotion and clearly seeing yours.

“Yeah, I’ll stay.”

Jungkook skipped work too. Both of you ended up sleeping in.

--

masterpost

[jayybugg]

i hate you

Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader

Summary: Draco gets his payback....

Warnings: Rough sex (Smut), Language, Semi-Public sex, Creampie, Minimal Plot (Basically Non-existent for real).

Word Count: 1.8K

Note: Yes, I wrote more Draco smut because.....I will always have a small, soft spot for him, and I truly just love feral Draco. Sue me. I wrote this as a part two to my previous Draco fic, but you can read this as a standalone, really, since I barely reference anything from the first fic. Enjoy!

Banners from @cafekitsune

Draco hates you. He hates you more than he hates Harry Potter. That didn’t change after the locker room fiasco a month ago. If anything, it made him hate you even more. You had the one up on him--the advantage. You knew how to make him weak with a simple short skirt and a slight bend of your knees. It was like you had made it your mission to become the number one nuisance in his life.

Despite hating you, he wanted a repeat of that day in the locker room. He dreamed about it day and night. During class, quidditch practice, and parties. You were on his mind at all hours.

And he hated it.

Draco gritted his teeth as you flicked another piece of paper at him with a soft giggle to follow. It was so stupidly adorable that he wanted to tape your mouth shut forever. He cut his eyes at you, drinking in your uniform for the day. Your pleated skirt was short, way too short to be allowed, and you had your shirt a few buttons undone to give him a good view of your cleavage. Draco was heavily convinced that you were dressing like that to piss him off.

A grunt left his mouth as another piece of paper at him. “Don’t you have anything better to do?” He frowned. You gave him a slight smirk, shrugging. “What could be better than this?” You said, launching another paper at him.

The classroom cleared out as Draco stood over you, his eyes narrowed. “What the entire fuck is your problem?” He asked. You looked up at him, your head tilted in fake innocence, “What do you mean, Malfoy?”

Draco leaned down, his frame towering over yours. Annoyance, hatred, and unresolved want were swirling in his brown orbs. “You know what the fuck I mean.” Draco growled, “You’ve been an annoying ass brat for the longest time now.”

“How rude of you. I think I’ve been a joy to be around.” You said, “It’s not my fault that you have a stick so far up your ass that—”

Draco’s hand reached out, wrapping his hand around your throat in a swift motion to yank you closer to his face. “You’re so fucking infuriating. Do you ever know when to just shut the fuck up?” He frowned. You opened your mouth to speak, but Draco was too fast for your words, stuffing his index and pointer fingers into your mouth. “Don’t fucking speak, just suck. Use those pretty lips for something rather than spewing out bullshit.”

You peeked through your lashes, sucking his fingers obediently. Draco let out a shaky breath as he released your throat to pop open the rest of your shirt. “All you do is run through my mind. With your stupid ass smile and cute ass giggle. It’s so annoying.” Draco muttered, more to himself than to you.

He yanked his fingers out of your mouth, wrapping a hand back around your throat to pull you down to your knees. He continued to mutter to himself as he unfastened his trousers. A tiny smirk played on your lips as he pushed his boxers down, letting his dick spring free.

“Open your fucking mouth.” Draco hissed, using his thumb to separate your lips. You fluttered your eyelashes with a mock pout. “ You can at least use some manners.” You sighed dramatically as you widened your mouth.

Draco didn’t respond to you as he pushed his cock past your lips, groaning at the warmth of your mouth. His hands pushed your hair into a makeshift ponytail, pushing himself further down your throat. A cruel smirk crawled his way onto his face as you gagged. “Aw, is that smart-ass mouth of yours too full now?” Draco mocked.

He held your face still as he thrust his hips forward, not letting you control how fast or deep he went. His tip bullied the back of your throat, and saliva trailed down your chest as the lewd noises filled up the empty classroom. Draco was unleashing all the pent-up annoyance and lust that he had been feeling for the past month.

“Look at those pretty eyes, getting all watery for me.” Draco cooed, catching a stray tear as it fell from your eye with his thumb. He brought his thumb to his lips, letting his tongue slip past his lips to taste the salty tear on his digit's pad. Draco pulled your head close to him as he thrust deeper, the tip of your nose tickling his skin as his seed leaked down your throat.

You gagged loudly, tapping on his thigh as a sign of tapping out. Draco pulled out, letting you catch your breath. He bent down to your level, patting your cheek lightly. “Tapping out already? Shame, you talk so much shit but can’t even take your punishment?” Draco mocked.

Your chest heaved as you looked up at him with watery eyes. Draco stood back up straight, pulling you up to your feet. “Bend over.” He demanded, voice deep and rough. A light smirk grazed your lips as you tilted your head. “You don’t have any manners, Dray.” You sighed dramatically.

Draco narrowed his eyes at you, stepping toward you. “Bend over the fucking desk, love. I wasn’t asking or trying to be nice.” He snapped, “Because one way or another, I will have you bent over that desk in the next minute.”

You pouted, following his orders and bending over the desk. You wiggled your ass against him teasingly, causing Draco to groan. Your panties were on full display for him to see the soaked seat of them. “Such a fucking brat.” Draco muttered, pushing your skirt up to reveal your ass, “You’re fucking enjoying this, aren’t you?” He pushed your panties to the side, groaning softly seeing your bare pussy.

“I don’t know what-” You started, but your sentence was cut short by the whimper that erupted from her throat. Draco smirked as he dragged his red, leaky tip down your slick folds. “Hm? What was that, love?” He asked, “Almost thought you were about to say you don’t know what I was talking about.”

Draco pushed into you, groaning at the feeling of you pulling him in. “Fuck...always so tight, huh, love?” He muttered. You gripped the desk, a moan falling from your lips. No care in the world that the classroom door was unlocked and the walls in the castle were particularly thin, especially compared to your moans.

Draco gave you a few slow thrusts inciting soft moans from you before pulling his cock out of you.

“W-What are you-”

A sharp gasp fell from your mouth as Draco slammed back into you. His hips met the fat of your ass in sharp, fast, and rough thrusts. “D-Draco...” His name fell from your lips in a strangled moan. “Shut up.” He muttered in response; his eyes focused on his cock coated in your juices as it plunged into you. “I don’t want to hear you unless it’s you begging for more or apologizing for being such an annoying brat for the past month.”

His pace was relentless. The sound of his skin slapping against yours, plus the pleasurable pain of the desk digging into your skin, almost sent you into orbit. You couldn’t even focus on the mumbled words from Draco. “P-Please...” You moaned, burying your face into your arms.

Draco’s eyes snapped up at you, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “Please, what, love?” He asked. He grabbed a fistful of your hair, “Use your fucking words. You talk so much any other time. Talk now.”

He gave you a hard thrust, a loud moan tumbling out of you. “I....I- D-Draco...!” You babbled out.

It was pathetic. Truly, it was. You couldn’t form a coherent thought, let alone a coherent sentence. “Look at you,” Draco chuckled, “So drunk on my cock that you can’t even talk.” He looked back down at the connection between you both when he felt you tighten around him. He pulled out of you, not missing the whine from you. He pulled you up, turned you around, and picked you up onto the desk. Prompting you to wrap your legs around him, he grabbed the base of his cock, teasing your folds again. “Don’t worry, love. I’m giving it back to you.” He teased.

He pushed into you again, bringing both of his hands up to wrap around your throat. “I knew you were about to cum, but I want to see you cum on my dick. I want to see this pretty fucked out when you tremble from your orgasm.” His hips met yours at a hard pace that only served to make your mind blank even more.

You tightened around him again, your eyes fluttering closed. Draco’s hand patted your cheek before returning to your neck. “Oh, no, love. Keep those pretty eyes on me. I want you to look at me when you cum.”

Your eyes were hazed over with lust, not a single thought behind them other than wanting this to never end. Your legs trembled as uncontrollable moans filled the air. “Go ahead.” Draco whispered, “Cum. I want to see it.”

The whispered command was the small push you needed. You trembled as your orgasm washed over you like a wave crash. Draco rode out your high, bringing one of his hands down to rub your sensitive bundles of nerves as he continued to thrust. “That’s a good girl. Finally listening, huh?” He praised, slight mocking in his tone, “Now, tell me, where do you want me to cum?”

Your voice was breathless; you opened your mouth to answer him, but it was just seemingly impossible. Draco let a smile grace his face as your fucked out state. “Do you want me to cum inside you, love?” He asked. You nodded quickly, your eyes wide and still locked on his.

His fingers that were rubbing your clit, slapped it, making you jump slightly. “Say it. Say you want to finish inside of you.” He demanded. You swallowed hard, taking a deep breath. “I want... I want you to cum inside of me.” You whimpered, “Please.”

Draco smiled, “You look pretty when you beg.”

With one final thrust, Draco moaned and filled you up with his cum. He stayed still, his grip on your neck loosening a bit. He pulled out of you, looking down at your slick pussy. “You better not let any of it spill out or I’m going to fill you up again.” He said as he moved your panties back in place.

He backed up from you, pulling his pants back up, smirking as you stuck in place. “You should get up, love. You don’t want someone to see you so fucked out, do you?” He teased, pulling your skirt back down.

He patted your thigh playfully, a small chuckle falling out his mouth. He walked out of the classroom, humming to himself. He finally evened out the score.

You: 1

Draco: 1

[midnightarcheress]

woke up wanting to write something with my pretty boy kyle and this was born.

cw: nsfw. f!reader. gaz obsessing over the pretty college girl by his side. implied future stalking ig? unedited. part one | part two

someone catches Kyle’s attention on the plane.

his legs are on the verge of cramping and his breath is ragged, running to board his connection flight at the last call. after falling off a helicopter twice in the last operations, he developed an uneasiness of flying, no matter the aircraft, preferring taking the train over being miles up in the air, even if it triples the travel. but this time, he just wanted to get home the fastest way possible for a much-needed night of sleep in his own bed, instead of the barely cushioned military-issued mattress.

he hopped on the plane and made his way through the corridor, gaze fixed on the numbers under the luggage rack, attentively looking for his spot. he stopped by row thirteen, eyes darting between the number and the woman on the window seat. i could’ve sworn i marked that one when i booked? Kyle checks the boarding ticket again – row 13, seat A. it’s the right seat, why is there someone on it? 

an annoyed sigh escapes his lips, gathering the energy to speak up and reclaim his rightfully bought seat. the problem is, he gets ultimately struck when the seat-thief notices him standing and turns to face him. wide eyes meet his brown ones, immediately softening at the sight of your tempting glossy lips and delicate fingers pushing a lock of hair behind your ear. pretty little thing.

“i’m sorry, is this your seat? it was empty on the first flight,” you say, an apologetic tone in your voice as you frantically close the book on your lap and shove it in a bag, “i’ll move back for you–”

“it’s alright, keep it.” he interrupts, throwing his carry-on in the rack and taking the empty middle spot beside you. he smirks at your appreciative nod and watches you settling again on the backrest, buckling the seatbelt at the shining signal hovering your heads and paying extra attention to the flight attendant announcements, even when no one around seems to care. sweet girl, so considerate to everyone.

the plane starts speeding on the runway, and from his peripheral he views your squeezed eyes and nearly white fingers gripping the armrest, breathing quickening during the gravity push of the take off. it takes a moment for you to release your tight grasp and exhale, making his hand twitch with an urge to soothe you, tell you that you’re safe.

he shakes the sensation and leans his head back, focusing on the one thing he can do to pass the time – sleep. but he can’t keep his gaze out of you, glancing to his left whenever you make a movement, no matter how small. the rapid keyboard tapping guides his irises to your laptop screen, catching a few words in a sea of what for him sounds like an alien language. DNA strand? allele? locus mutation?

he sneaks a look through your figure and his eyes land on the familiar blue logo on your hoodie, the same one he always sees on the walk from the market to his flat. uni a couple blocks from me. do you live on campus? or nearby? that neighborhood is awful at night, full of old blokes searching the pubs for a quick fuck with a naive college girl. but you seem smart, not the type to fall for their tricks, right?

the harder he tries to avoid your presence, the more you make yourself known, almost making him feel like it’s on purpose. the way your plump lips wrap on the water bottle, slight drop scaping on the corner and trailing down your neck, your flowery perfume filling his nostrils when you shift on your seat to remove the top layer of your clothing, exposing the low-cut blouse underneath and the soft roundness of your tits. is that for me, sweet girl? need a break from studying so hard? the sudden tightness of his trousers brings him back to his senses, stirring the thought out of his brain. 

keep it cool, Garrick, he repeats over and over in his mind, ignoring the tent forming on his lap and praying to whatever god is out there that you won’t see it, even while standing up and brushing your legs on his knees to get to the corridor due the cramped space. however, he doesn’t miss how the guy by his side shamelessly ogles your cleavage when you step past him, making his blood boil and his fists clench – like he wasn’t doing the same exact thing minutes before.

while you're away, he glances at your screen again, noticing the constant message notifications from the contact ‘Marcus - DO NOT ANSWER’. already looking bad for you, mate. curiosity takes hold of him and he starts reading the texts, silently chuckling at the guy’s pathetic attempts to get your attention. what did he do to earn a cold shoulder, sweetheart? did he hurt you? didn’t he pay enough attention to you? i bet he couldn’t even fuck you the way you deserve. 

he keeps skimming the messages until the grin tugging on the corners of his mouth fades into a frown when he reads ‘you’re gonna regret leaving me’. now, who’s this prick? think you’ll get away with threatening my girl?

his body stiffens when you come back, eyes darting back to the small telly in front of him when your hand brushes on his thigh while sitting once again. he hears your irritated huff when you skim through the messages, shutting the laptop with near violence. i can take care of him for you, love. you won’t have to deal with that by yourself anymore. 

the pilot’s muffled voice coming through the speakers and announcing the landing shortens his daydreams about getting rid of Marcus. it would be a great way to keep himself busy while on leave, making sure to do it fast and secretly, of course, just to protect his sweet little thing. poor guy wouldn’t even know what hit him.

the pressure change on his ear is the telltale sign of the aircraft lowering its altitude, landing gear out to hit the lane and brake the machine. he turns to the side, watching again your knitted eyebrows and how your nails dig into the seat. this time he doesn’t contain himself and his hand gently lingers over yours, the softness of it sending lightning strikes over his body and almost making him cum instantly. 

your glinting eyes find his face with a grateful gaze, lips mouthing a sugary thank you when the plane finally stops. he helps you take your handbag out of the rack with ease, using the situation to flaunt his muscles. i can even pick you up, darling. would love to feel your pretty thighs around my waist. you wouldn’t have to walk a day in your life. 

his eyes follow the sway of your hips through the airport, heart almost bursting when you wave goodbye and flash him a timid smile. you think that’s the last time you’ll see him, he thinks this is just the beginning. a name and university? he’s used to finding people with even less information. see you soon, sweet girl.

[miley1442111]

Hi sorry to bother you but can you make a spencer reid x reader with the mute!reader and he helping her with everything.

Thank you so much sorry to bother you.

this is so cute! I did some research but I am nowhere near well-versed enough to know everything so please someone tell me if i've made a mistake !!!

mutism- s.reid

a/n: intended for fem reader, but as always imagine what you like:)))))))))

summary: how you and spencer met, the first time spencer heard you speak, and a look into your life together :)

pairing: spencer reid x mute! reader

warnings: none

You were mute. You knew sign language and could talk to specific people on very specific occasions. You’d had it since you were diagnosed at 4 years old and it truthfully wasn’t the end of the world, but it did suck to not have had a date at the age of 22. Not that you weren’t beautiful, not that people hadn’t tried, you just… didn’t speak. 

But, CalTech was amazing, you were a biology student and you loved it. You could just lock in, ignoring the world around you and spend time in the lab for hours on end. Though, you couldn’t exactly investigate the growth rate of organisms in a crowded college bar. 

“I’m getting another drink!” Your very drunk friend shouted over the voices in the bar. You nodded your head, staring down at your half-empty drink as you sighed. You wanted to be anywhere that wasn’t here, at this stupid bar. Your friend, Maria, was a party-animal. You two had been dorm mates for the last 3 years and she had started learning sign language from the first week. She’d brought you into her friend group, allowing you a group of about 7 girls who all had your back. 

Well, they usually had your back, just not while they were all drunk and hooking up with their partners in the bathrooms or in their dorms, which is what all of them were doing right now. 

A tall and lanky boy sat beside you on your left and your body went rigid, silently begging him to not try and talk to you. 

“Spencer, come on!” One of his rowdy friends shouted. Spencer. Spencer was very cute. He had long-enough hair, brown trousers with a tie and shirt on. He looked far too overdressed for a simple college bar and you smiled. 

He was more than cute, he was gorgeous. You were shocked you’d never seen him modelling.

“No, I’m tired,” he laughed at his friend. “Go dance without me!” His friend gave up, walking off to a group of equally lanky and nerdy boys, all attempting to dance. 

Another man sat on your right, the seat where Maria had sat and you were instantly filled with anxiety again. Maria was nowhere to be seen and there were two men beside you, either of them could easily start trying to talk to you and what would you do? Just write it down on a napkin? On your phone? 

You hadn’t had this problem in a very long time. 

“So, you come here often?” The guy on your right asked, a soft smile on his face. He seemed to be the typical frat boy, kind of asshole-y but nicer than others you’d met. You tried to ignore him, pulling out your phone and texting Maria, saying you were going home instead of staying out longer, but he persisted. “What’s your name?”

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Spencer had been attempting to make conversation with you all year. He knew you were the smartest in your class, since he and your professor were friends and he often read over your papers. He thought you had the most beautiful mind, he didn’t even care what you looked like, he just wanted to know you. 

But, he had found out what you looked like from your photo online and he fell harder. You were gorgeous, smart, and interesting. He also knew you were mute. Back in your first year at college most people had just assumed that you were rude or too prideful to speak to certain people, and that you were getting special treatment from teachers by them letting you not present your projects. This meant your facilitators had to make an announcement to most of your classes, explaining why you didn’t speak. He saw your face one day as your professor explained to the class that you were mute, you looked so embarrassed and ashamed and he felt his heartbreak. He'd been embarrassed of his intelligence his whole life (but trust me, he knew that these were VERY different things) and he felt an uncertain connection to you. 

“She’s my girlfriend,” he tried to sound intimidating to the guy but he knew he wasn’t exactly a beefy 6 '2 frat boy.

The frat boy got the message. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You felt sick, Spencer was speaking for you and all of it could’ve gone to shit if that frat boy hadn’t gotten the hint. You quickly got up, looked at Spencer and signed ‘thank you’ and practically ran through the door, just wanting to get back to your dorm, 

“Umm, wait!” Spencer followed you out to the car park and you turned to face him, feeling hot under his gaze despite the cold, dark night around you both. “I’m S-Spencer, sorry if that was really weird but I wanted him to l-leave you alone, I-I know who you are a-and… yeah.”

He knew who you were? You looked at him confused. 

“Professor Monk! I help with his corrections sometimes, I’ve read your papers, they’re really good,” he smiled. “C-can I get your number or something?” Something like panic flashed over his features, clearly shocked at his own words. 

You took out your phone and wrote out “I seriously doubt I’d be much fun, I don’t talk,” you showed it to him, and he chuckled. 

“I know sign language,” He smiled and your heart swelled. You didn’t know it now, but on your wedding day, he would admit that it was a very big lie. 

You held out your hand for his phone and he handed it over, you punched in your number and that was the start of your beautiful love story. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Through your life together, Spencer was always there for you, there to calm you down, speak for you, be there for you, and to love you.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The first night he heard you speak was a year and half into your relationship, it was purely accidental on your part, genuinely comfortable enough to just speak and you did. 

“You’re so funny,” you quietly said between his and your own laughter. His own smile grew, while your face heated. 

“You spoke,” he observed, holding you from behind, his taller figure engulfing yours. “You have a nice voice.”

You whispered a meek “thank you” and he could’ve sworn that his heart grew three sizes. He didn’t want to push you, he just kissed you on the cheek and continued on with his cooking while he internally freaked out. Despite being together so long, you still found ways to fluster and surprise him. The majority of the time, he spent feeling like a schoolboy with how smitten he was with you. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

So, you knew Spencer would always have your back, always love you, and always care.

He promised you so on your wedding day.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------

criminal minds masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, marvel, top gun, obx+)

[jarofstyles]

Lush

Hello my ducklings! Since we have been getting a lot of questions about our Patreon and what is included, we decided to give you guys peeks into the series we have exclusively on there. This is Lush, escort y/n x dark businessman H. There will be some twists and turns in this one, hot smut, a fake relationship and a possessive and slightly obsessive dark H- our favorite. This series will only be on Patreon but this is the first part to give you a taste!

Check out our Patreon for access to Lush and our other exclusive series + 100+ exclusive writings.

Warnings- escorting, mention of homelessness and money struggles, daddy kink etc

WC- 2.9k

-----

Y/N knew her job, and she did it well.

Sit still, look pretty. Perched on her favorite client’s lap, his strong thigh covered in a trouser that matched the blazer that probably cost more than she’d made in the last 3 months, she sipped her champagne quietly and ‘let the men talk.’

Harry Styles was an enigma. He had popped up a few weeks ago, bringing her to a dinner after a debriefing in a lux hotel in one of the bigger hotels on the Vegas strip. The window had overlooked it all, a penthouse that seemed to be used quite frequently considering the fridge had been stocked and he had socks stuffed in a drawer that she’d used later that night.

“I need you to sit on my lap, keep me company.” He had said plainly. The man was intimidating. Broad and tall, soft brown hair swept back and off his forehead. Stubble shadowing his face and over his lip, his features were sharp and his eyes a little harsh, but she could whole heartedly admit that he was the most attractive client she’d ever had. Being a year in after escaping a situation that was still haunting her nightmares, she had been eager to accept the higher paying and well vetted job she had, thank god, stumbled into. It wasn’t conventional, no, but nothing really was in Vegas.

“I can do that.” She replied, hands folded in her lap. He stood before her as she had sat on the couch, looking up at him as he spoke. “Is that all we’re doing in our time together?” To put it in a nicer way of asking. She could have bluntly asked if he was going to want sex, but she did try to at least have a little decorum- until the situation granted the freedom of it. It wasn’t uncommon for her and she was safe, tested, and generally did enjoy sex- but it was a job. This time, however, would probably be enjoyed more than she had in the past. A real attraction to the man would be helpful in many parts of making this more enjoyable.

“Who said that?” He rose a brow, looking down at her. It was a smoldering look but she couldn’t find it in herself to look away as he got closer and tilted her chin up. “I intend to take everything you’ll offer. I’d suggest canceling your plans for tomorrow.” She didn’t have to ask why. It was clear this man intended to fuck her, and fuck her well.

Spoiler- he did.  Harry had, for all intents and purposes, rocked her shit. So when she found his name on her books twice the next week, she hadn’t complained. She’d been excited, actually, considering she’d been able to feel the sting of her ass when she’d sat in the Lyft the next morning to take her to her apartment. Another good thing about him, she found as she looked in her purse, was that he tipped extremely well. More than was deserved, if she was being honest, but the one time the girl brought it up he had shoved another hundred dollar bill into the waistband of her sleep shorts and sent her on her way.

It had become known to her that he specifically requested her. If she wasn’t available, he’d offer more money than the other client was paying- and her Madam had no problem with that, considering it upped her cut. She found herself with him 3 times this week, frequenting clubs and drowning out business talk as his large hand splayed across her waist and the other hand held a sweaty amber colored liquor on the rocks. Much to many of her friends and client’s surprise, Y/N didn’t drink much. She stuck to lighter things, champagne and rosé, and kept to a one to two drink maximum. She preferred keeping a clear head when on the job and honestly? Drinking wasn’t her thing. A buzz was nice, but anything past that meant a headache in the morning. She wasn’t a morning person to begin with.

This meeting was going past its normal time, making her wonder what was being said. If she was being frank- Y/N didn’t do much listening in his meetings. It felt like they were talking in code, another language, and she couldn’t be assed to listen about imports and exports and blah, blah, blah. Her brain was happy to sit and be warm on a handsome man’s lap, observing the dance floor. Dancing used to be so fun, something she’d always loved to do as a child. Now she didn’t get to do as much, even though she’d wished she could. Club dancing was far different than her normal type but if she was on the balcony of the most VIP of the VIP sections, she was going to take her people watching to the next level.

“Y’alright?” His raspy voice breathed over her ear, not taking his eyes off the men who were talking amongst themselves. “I know it’s late. We can go back soon.” While Harry wasn’t the most warm and fuzzy person, he did respect her time. He was a little scary, truthfully, and she didn’t want to upset him. He hadn’t done anything wrong. He was respectful and kind to her, he spoiled her with tips and orgasms, and she had no complaints. If staying out a bit later than he had said was the least of her worries besides his scowling, she was golden.

“I’m okay.” She smiled. “People watching. Sorry, I’m not paying attention. Dunno what half of the stuff you’re talking about means.”

Y/N had no reality of what he did. No clue. She was too afraid to google him. To ruin the illusion she had of him in her head. He passed the background test and signed the heavy contract that came with hiring her, so he wasn’t about to harm her or anything- and from what she’s learned in Vegas, sometimes you’re better off not knowing. There was a lot of shady business practices that went on. It was legitimately upset her if he was a bad person outside of the law, so she decided not to go searching for answers she possibly didn’t want to find.

“That’s good.” He murmured, pressing a private kiss underneath her ear. “Don’t worry about it. S’nothing interesting anyways. Got t’keep up appearances.” His voice dropped. “Would much rather be between your thighs. Missed this body while I was away.”

And, Oh. It made her hot, a nervous giggle leaving her throat as the words tickled against her ear. Harry had gone away on a business trip, he’d prefaced it because he had been gone 4 day. He’d prescheduled to meet her on the day he came back. Her stomach did a swoop in her body as the cool hand that held his glass deposited it on the table, finding her thigh and squeezing over it. “You did?”

She had to wonder if he was buttering her up, but the thought was dispelled because Harry didn’t need to do that. He had always been a bit blunt and she liked that about him. Less sweet talk that he didn’t mean. What he said made sense- complimenting her body and her mouth and appearance, what she did for him, but he never went too far and said things he didn’t mean. So she believed him when he nodded, slipping his hand further up her dress and making her swallow thickly. He’d given her pretty lingerie he’d bought from wherever he went, the buttery silk laying against her body under the dress that hugged her figure. Red, he said, because she was a little devil between the sheets. “I did. Got t’bring you with me next time.”

Some girls did that. Y/N wasn’t even sure what the rate would be for a trip, but the idea appealed to her. “You sure you can afford it?” She whispered back, a playful tilt to her lips. Obviously he could. He was by far the wealthiest man she had in her books, evident by the liquor he ordered, the watches he wore and the cars the drove in. It was arousing to her, if she was being honest. When she settled down one day, the one thing she really wanted was financial stability. Maybe that sounded shallow, but with her history with no money and being a little jaded, it made sense to her.

“Can afford that, and a shopping spree for you while I do business.” He brushed his cool fingertips against her slightly damp panties. Harry didn’t smile often, but when he did? It was a smirk. A hot, arrogant little smirk that she should probably be annoyed by, but wasn’t. “Need to get you out of here, though. Have something I want to talk to you about before I sink you down on my cock.” His fingers retreated after a gentle brush to find them wet, moving to her leg as he began to wrap up the meeting. People would listen, even if they weren’t finished- he just had that way about him.

—--

Y/N had no clue what, exactly, he wanted to talk to her about. They’d had some nice conversations so far about a plethora of things. Movies, books, restaurants, some morals. But it wasn’t too deep. Both of them had seen it for what it was, even if they had impeccable sexual chemistry. She didn’t know the man all that well, only what was told to her and what he had divulged- and knowing the man had a sweet tooth didn’t account for much. So it was slightly intimidating when he asked her to meet him in the living room of the suite as he put away his watch and jacket.

What could he possibly have to talk to her about? Her brain was coming up with nothing.

“C’mere.” He sat himself down on the couch, offering his lap back up to her. It wasn’t something she did in private unless his hands were down her panties or she was riding him, but she decided to go for it. Her heels kicked off to the side, she sat herself back in the familiar way. It had taken her off guard, but his hand took her own and she watched as he flipped it over, thumbing over her ring finger. “I need to ask you a favor. A proposition.” He murmured, calculating eyes going back to her face. “And you can say no, if you want. I’ll understand.” Of course, this made her alarm bells ring but there was little time to panic. Considering he was a very get to the point man, he did exactly that. “I’d like for you to quit your current job and pretend to be my fiance.”

The bomb was dropped. Why, exactly, a man of his caliber needed a fake fiance? She had not a fucking clue. Harry continued, her face slack in shock. He took that into account, it seemed. “I like you. You’re polite, know how to behave in public. Gorgeous little thing. You’re intelligent, you’re quick, and you understand how to keep to yourself. That’s a very valuable thing to me.” His thumb resumed rubbing her ring finger. “We have incredible sex. You fulfill and exceed my needs, and I’m satisfied with sex for once in my life.” Y/N let him do whatever he wanted and thoroughly enjoyed it. There was no faking it with them. Their chemistry crackled in the air when it shifted. There was no doubting that. “My family has been pressuring me to settle down. I have no time to properly date, nor the desire to.” He sure as fuck wasn’t the type to go on dating apps, and the dating pool he was around was a lot of vapid people with money hungry libidos. At least he would know Y/N was there for money and there would be no confusion between them. “I enjoy your company. It isn’t traditional nor conventional, but I’d provide for you. I will deposit your average monthly income in your own bank account and give you a card to my own. I’d pay for your rent while you stay with me, and you’d have free time to do as you please. Whatever hobbies you’d like. Horse riding, art, reading, I don’t care what it is if you like it.”

Her head was swimming. What the fuck? She’d heard of men falling in love with escorts, sure, but this seemed… More transactional. For some reason, it made her feel a little more comfortable. He wasn’t proclaiming love after barely knowing her. He knew how it went and that she needed to be provided for. “Like a sugar baby?” She blurted out.

“Not particularly. My fiance in title. You’ve been introduced as my girl to everyone already, so it isn’t a difficult sell to anyone but my family. We’d announce our engagement, I’ll bring you to London to meet them, let it run it’s course.” His eyes bore into hers. “I don’t want you with anyone else while you’re mine. I’ll be the only one you sleep with, and vice versa. I don’t want you to split your time between me and anyone else. I’m asking for devotion, which is a lot. But I’d like it to be you.”

“Why?” Y/N knew he had explained it but it was still confusing. “I know what you’ve said but… surely theres other people that you’d want to ask? I’m just an escort you’ve been seeing for a little while. I mean.. The sex is great, don’t get me wrong.” And she was extremely attracted to him and his energy, but… “I’m not in my escort mode all the time. I don’t want to be working 24/7. I’m not as docile while off the clock.” She wasn’t about to get put into 24/7 smile and nod territory. It was fine when it was an outing, or even a night, but she did have a personality she quite liked outside of it.

“I wouldn’t expect you to be agreeable all the time. In fact, I’d like to see you fight me a little.” Harry’s smirk returned. “Makes the sex hotter. But…” he returned to his business face. “I chose you because we get along. I don’t like a lot of people. I may pretend I do, but it’s difficult for me to find people who don’t make me irritated. You’re… interesting to me.” It wasn’t the answer she expected, no, but still. She had more questions.

“So what about after it’s all done and over with? I’ll end up on the streets, homeless again because I know Madam isn’t going to just let me back on her lists.” She crossed her arms, not realizing what she’d said. Harry caught it, pocketing it for later. It didn’t sit right that she had been on the streets at all, but that wasn’t a topic he could broach right now. He didn’t have the right to ask yet.

“I will make sure you’re set after this is done.” He promised. “I will have all of your expenses covered while you’re with me. Nails, hair, food, clothing, hobbies. You’ll be making your pay and then some every week and not touching it. And if it ends early, I will payout an extra mil. Does that sound reasonable?” He rose an eyebrow. “I’ve got the paperwork with me, but you can sit on it if you want.”

“How long can I sit on it for?” It took everything in her to not bite at her nails. The one thing the acrylics were good for was curbing that habit. “It’s not a no, but I’d like to look at the contract and have a lawyer look over it before I agree to anything.” As young as she may seem, she wasn’t stupid. This would be a perfect way to take advantage of her. While she didn't have that feeling from him, she’d be dumb not to protect herself.

She didn’t expect the smile from him, but it made her heart beat a bit faster as he brought her hand up to kiss it. “Smart fuckin’ girl you are.” He laughed. “Good. That works with me. I hope you do sign it, though.” His eyes darkened a bit. Harry wasn’t good at sharing and the idea of this pretty thing belonging to him, in essence, made his dick twitch. “I’d love to take you with me to Italy and see you on my yacht. Maybe fuck you on it. Think you’d really love that.”

Y/N had a feeling she would, too. The idea of being with one man, a man she so far enjoyed despite a bit of arrogance and intimidation, was appealing after a year here. But she needed to cover her own ass before sinking into something too good to be true. “I would.” Her nails moved from his hand to card through his soft hair. “I’d love that. But I think you should focus on tonight, hm?” Her legs opened a little, and she guided his hand back to where it had been previously. “Take a look at the pretty things you’ve already got, Daddy.”

[the-fiction-witch]

I Like Him

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Oscar Tully Couple - Oscar X Reader Reader - (OC) Jaerra Targaryen [Daughter of Daemon Targaryen & Rhea Royce] Rating - 12 Word Count - 1121

Requested -

Hello Miss Witch! Can I request an Oscar Tully story in your “Boys Yet To Have Books” please? The reader is a Targaryen (probably just the same age as him and named Jaerra) and has a he-dragon, she flew to Harrenhal to accompany Daemon and then met Oscar and just some cute interactions between them that grew into something. It’s up to how you will write it and can have lots of parts too because I will love it either way. I hope you read this request. Thank you! <33

The dark echos of Harrenhal seem to sicken Daemon the longer he remains, food seems to turn to ashes in his mouth, wine soured, his mind a mess of his own failings and falls.

“I’m surrounded, by witches, and idiots.” He sighed to himself,

Suddenly a familiar sound echoes through Harrenhal’s half-melted halls, the sound of a dragon's triumphant cry. Which caused Daemon to perk up and move quickly for the first time in months. He headed out to the courtyard part of him hopeful to see Syrax across the sky, or perhaps even MoonDancer.

But a deep blue dragon with shimmering white scales fluttered down onto the grass,

“Iēdar lilagon…” he sighed, He approached the dragon glaring down at its rider, “Why did she send you?”

“Because you're causing chaos on your own,” Jaerra answered as she climbed down from her dragon, wearing her tall boots and grey washed-out leather trousers, a deep blue jacket with a high low skirt and dragon clasps down her chest, her long Targaryen blonde hair with a single dark brown streak by her face knotted up into a tight braid.

“I already have enough to deal with,” He sighed,

“Hence why I’m here.” She said pulling off her leather gloves and walking past him, “You’ve been causing enough problems around here, so she thought I’d be best to come. Plus everyone else is far too busy to be your babysitter.”

“Busy!” He said as he followed her,

“Her grace is busy, planning wars and alliances,”

“And what does she think I’ve been doing!”

She rolled her eyes and continued, “Jacaerys is defending his claim at her side -”

“Baela and Rheana?”

“Baela is beside her betrothal, as she should be. Rheana is with Aegon and Viserys in the Vale.”

He sighed, “I’d have taken Corlys before you.”

“He is of far to high priority.” She glared, “You get me. If you’d have been more careful I wouldn’t be needed and I could be patrolling.”

“So that’s what she’s got you doing? Patrolling?”

“Ravens are slow, men even slower. Dragonback is the best way to get sights of our lands and the movements on them.” She explained, “Speaking of which, the riverlords are here.”

“They haven’t-”

“They haven’t arrived yet but they will in an hour, I flew over them.” She answered before she went inside,

“...Fucking-” He sighed following her, “We have an hour, time to change into a gown for the Riverland lords.”

“Alright,” She shrugged, “Off you go, to get dressed.” She glared,

“I meant you.”

“Seems a waste of my time.” she sighed, “We are at war, gowns seem pointless at this point,”

“You are … so much of your mother,” He barked,

She chuckled, “Is that meant to insult me?” She smiled, “I’d rather be a spitting image of my mother… than anything like you.” she spat, “Now let's get this sorted out before we all end up on spikes in Kings Landing.”

Daemon sat at the head of the table in Harrenhalls Grand chamber, Jaerra to his side with two seats between them, as in walked the Lord of the river lands. Jaerra raised an eyebrow given this was not the man from the many lords she saw from Dragonback whom she expected to be the lord. Lord Oscar Tully made his way in dressed in his fine amour, curls messy from his helmet. He simply nodded as a greeting to Daemon and his eyes flicked to Jaerra, he did a double take but focused his eyes forward.

“My condolences on the passing of your grandser.” Daemon spoke, “But the crown congratulates you on your ascension to the head of your house. And Lord Paramount of the Riverlands” He explained, “Truly Glorious well done,”

“I did nothing,” Oscar answered,

“Nevertheless, you are here which is the important thing.” Daemon nodded,

“You were quick enough to dismiss me before.”

“You were of no significance to me then.”

Jaerra sighed, rolling her eyes a little.

“Now. I shall have my great host you have a decision to make.” Daemon stood from his chair mostly to avoid the eyes of Jaerra, “Presume it is clear to you which is the right one.”

“You will forgive me, your grace… I am green. In this sort of matter. As you so kindly point out, but it does seem to me that you’ve made rather a mess here.” Oscar explained making sure to meet Daemon's eyes as he walked around him, “Countenancing barbarities in the queen's name.”

Jaerra choked back a small laugh but made no secret of her smile, as she rested her feet on the table,

“Who’s side are you on?” Daemon glared the boy down,

“... The river lands are held together by oaths.” Oscar nodded, “House Tully swore on oath to King Viserys Targaryen, We recognize the authority of the named heir Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen… And your own as her king consort.”

“Good.” Daemon nodded, “Then we should go to face your vassals and you shall call your banners to war,”

“That might be difficult my king,”

“Well… I was told they would come to heal When house tully declared it’s allegiance.”

“That… may be the case,” Oscar nodded, “But it is yet to be seen that they will heed my authority, as young as it is.”

“You are no older than my daughter.” Daemon chuckled as his eyes met Jaerra,

“... I’d further follow her than you.”

“Power and control don’t have an age. Merely a mindset.” Jaerra smiled,

Oscar nodded to her, “And there is another problem… they all hate you.” he turned back to Daemon,

“Everyone hates him.” Jaerra spoke up again, “Never stopped him before.”

“I don’t need their love, I need their swords.” Daemon glared,

The two in a deep moment of staring before the door opened,

“You’re grace, My lord, the river lords await. I fear we cannot delay them any longer.”

“Of course,” Daemon nodded, “Come along lord Oscar,”

Oscar nodded and walked out hand on his sword,

“You too.” He demanded to Jaerra,

She sighed setting her feet down on the stone floor and made her way out the door, but turned around as she passed Daemon walking backwards out the door, “I like him.”

“You would.” he glared, forcing her out with him.  

[loverickyys]

. ݁𖦹₊ ⊹ Professor Hanbin!

minors dni (answering an ask by anon, can't include it unfortunately!)

- frankly speaking you were not a bad student. always able to keep up with the burden of assignments in uni but it all changed when your psychology professor had to leave mid semester, a younger professor coming in to substitute him.

- you never thought the new professor will turn out to be so hot that from being a top scorer your grades will plummet so badly, all due to him of course.

- don't get it wrong, hanbin is a great teacher. he listens well, he never discourages anyone, helping everyone around with his ever pure and angelic smile. in your eyes he is literally an epitome of gorgeous.

- and that's where the problem starts. he is so hot and pretty that all you can do is stare at awe, blushing when he smiles back at you so beautifully or your stomach exploding in butterflies when he bends down slightly against you to help you with a question.

- no wonder all you think about before, during and after his class is him. your head is filled with him. hanbin, hanbin, hanbin cluttering in your mind even at a glance of him.

- exam season comes and you fail badly. (who else can be blamed other than your sexy professor of course). while distributing the results hanbin's eyebrows furrow with disappointment as he asks you to stay back after the class to have a chat. the sadness from the awful result already vanishing as your heart beats with excitement getting to spend some time alone with him.

- "i wouldn't lie to you. i am pretty disappointed, you were among the top students earlier the semester. makes me wonder if my teaching methods are not helpful to you. do you need any help, you can always ask me." hanbin sighs, leaning back on his desk with you standing in front of him. the class is empty and only the soft music he plays during the sessions can be heard in the background. he looks displeased and confused, staring at you for some reason.

- you look in his deep black eyes. he is looking even sexier today, wearing a white shirt, left unbuttoned to show his tattoos, brown trousers that fit make his thighs look delectable and glasses sitting at the bridge of his nose.

- "it's not my fault professor, you are always distracting me." you smile a little, a weird confidence overtaking you (probably directed by the horniness you feel looking at him) as you stand up straighter coming on his eye level. hand moving slowly to pop open a button of your pink blouse to show some cleavage.

- hanbin gulps slightly seeing your movements, eyes not so shyly going to your boobs. "i am not sure what you mean by that. and if it's what i am thinking it is, i'll have to say that is highly inappropriate of you." he tries to fight back. he has now rolled up the sleeves oh shirt, hand flying to open another of his shirt's button as if to mimic your actions.

- you know he is clearly not backing away. pushing yourself more you lean towards him, palm coming in contact with his chest, your index finger tracing the lines of his tattoo. "and what are you going to do hanbin, report me? you want this too, accept it."

- there is a glint of surprise in hanbin's eyes but he regains his composure almost immediately. smirking as he grabs your chin pulling you closer, lips inches away from you. his arm wraps strongly around your waist, trapping you in his hold. "what do you want? just say it" he scoffs and let's go of you leaving you a little frustrated with the want to connect your lips together and taste him. your thighs rub uncomfortably, panties sticking due to how wet it feels underneath your white skirt.

- "i want you to pass me in this exam" you cross your hands across your chest. hanbin chuckles darkly, eyes now filled with lust. "and why would I do love?" he smiles at you, taking off his glasses and putting them on the desk. "because if you do i'll let you use me as your personal cumslut, professor"

- he doesn't need to be told twice, picking you up immediately, nails digging in your thighs as you yelp and hold on to his shoulders. he throws you on his desk not caring about the mess he is making. "you really shouldn't be talking like that you know?" he grabs you by the neck pulling you in for a messy and rough kiss, tongue sliding in your mouth instantly. your hands tug at his hair pulling him closer and closer while his pry your legs open, now standing between them.

- you let go to catch your breath, a string of saliva between you both as hanbin attaches his lips to your neck, nibbling and sucking harshly. you moan at the sensation and feel one of his hands sneakingly going inside your skirt and underwear. his fingers excitedly rub circles at your clothed core and he slips his index inside your hole, hooking it up and teasing your sweet spot. "fuck i- hanbin i-" you groan out as he fingers you slowly. "cat got your tongue now huh?" he teases you adding another finger.

- the way his fingers move in and out of you and the added pleasure of his mouth marking your neck and collarbone has you cumming in no time. he helps you ride the orgasm, cooing at how pretty you look practically screaming his name. he pulls out his fingers to pop them in his mouth, groaning in satisfaction at your taste before taking them out and pushing them in your mouth for you to suck on.

- you suck on his fingers delicately then instantly drop on you knees to return the favor. looking up at hanbin as he stares at you with pure lust and awe in his eyes. "let me help you professor" you give him an innocent smile and unzip his trousers. there is a patch on his boxers, cock begging to be freed from its confinements. you palm him gently as he grabs your hand. "don't be a tease now love" he says and you follow his orders, pulling his boxers down with the trousers. cock slapping at his stomach, tip red leaking with precum. it looks pretty just like he does all the time. your mouth waters as you lick a big stripe from the top to the bottom of his cock, sucking the tip lightly.

- hanbin grunts when you take him fully, mouth wrapped around him and hands playing with his balls. your tongue swirls around his cock, loving his taste. "you are such a whore, aren't you love" he groans in pleasure fingers tugging your head as he starts to fuck your mouth. you moan around him, the degradation making you rub your thighs together. you take whatever he gives you, now speeding up as tears well in your eyes, spit gathering at your chin.

- hanbin cums with a low groan, eyes blown, shirt all messed up, not letting your mouth leave his cock for one bit. when he is done he lets go off your hair and pulls you back. you still sit on the floor diligently, opening your mouth to show him you have swallowed everything. he smiles, his whisper dimples showing at his cheeks, "such a good girl, my little cumslut. consider your grades up love." you smile back at him, never been more satisfied.

(Had to repost because my account likes to get on my nerves sometimes :)

[so-i-did-this-thing]

Kind of a niche fashion question but I tend to dress on the goth side of vintage, if that makes sense? (It made more sense when I dressed in girl clothes, I miss it) Do you know of anywhere that sells men's period and new-vintage styles in darker colors or am I doomed to sew my own clothes forever...

The problem you'll run into is, if you want to stick to blacks for pants and coats, the usual fabrics won't be as interesting, imo.

Darcy Clothing has some black waistcoats and high waisted trousers, including some nice brushed cottons.

Bronson has black motorcycle breeches.

Here is a dark fairisle vest and another here.

If you like more 40s casual style, this is a fun polo from Revival Vintage.

You can find dark browns, greys, and greens easily enough, but if you tend towards deep reds and purples, that will be a tougher to find. I feel like a velvet waistcoat in a rich color would also be up your alley, or a brocade smoking jacket.

Other folks welcome to chime in with recs!

[paddymoonstruck]

Pairings: Charles Leclerc x Nepo!OC

Summary: here !!!

Next Chapter

Notes: It’s here! Hope you like it. Please feel free to share your thoughts in the comment section. Let me know if you want to be added on the tag list!

In the midst of the bustling crowd, the whispers of the cool wind blew past Sofina’s figure. Her honey brown locks cascades down her back, jostling the perfected curls on her head. She produced a well-mannered smile at the cluster of people beginning to narrow down her walkway as they approached her path. Their collective voices sync achingly in her ears as the volume increased in a rapid pace.

She bowed her head, an attempt to conceal the mischievous smirk plastered on her face. Her fingers adjusted the sunglasses shielding her eyes from the blinding flashes of the cameras pointing at her face.

“See, this is why I don’t particularly like arriving with you.”

Behind her shades, she gave a sidelong glance to her company. She tilted her head up to meet his gaze. His lips thinned, brows furrowed at the earnest as he scratched the back of his neck.

“I don’t see a problem,” She shrugged, a whimsical tone carried in her voice.

Joris looked at her, a scowl decorating his lips. He gave her a once over, deepening the lines on his forehead as he observed the aching differences of their attire.

Sofina graced the paddock in a white oxford button up, cream-colored wool blend high waisted trousers that was secured by a leather belt and a pair of flats and a watch that certainly cost as much as his house. Her whole ensemble mercilessly trampled on the white tee and light washed jeans he’d probably bought in a thrift store.

“We agreed to dress casual,” Joris sighed, shaking his head but the slight simper on his lips betrayed his expression. “You said you’d follow this time.”

“This is casual!” Sofina argued, smirk growing every passing minute of this conversation. She knew it wasn’t.

On Joris’s part, he should’ve known better. Sofina was the daughter of a prominent business magnate. She was a part of a family far beyond their wildest imagination. Exuding the confidence and prestige she naturally had was an aura no common man could possibly learn.

“I look like your driver.” He droned.

“Nonsense, you look dashing!” She assured, nudging his brooding stature. “And besides, my driver is somewhere over . . . there,” Raising her palm, she pointed to their intended destination.

Sofina smiled victoriously as she noticed his quiet relent, hooking her arm around his and proceeding to drag him through the mix of bodies despite his protests. They ignored the media’s shouts for attention as they weaved their way towards the obnoxiously bright red infrastructure that was otherwise known as the Ferrari motorhome.

Upon their arrival in the motorhome, they were immediately greeted by the roaming staff in the lobby.

The first to come near was the French Team Principal of Ferrari, Frederic Vasseur with his usual jolly smile.

“Sofina! What a pleasant surprise!” He gushed, lengthening his hand for her to shake.

The brunette returned his infectious delight, baring a kind smile of her own and taking his hand. “Surely it’s not that much of a shock that I’m here, Fred,” She jokingly tutted.

To which the Frenchman bellowed out a hearty laugh. “Of course not! I just was not expecting you to be so early. Everybody’s just warming up, you see.”

Sofina hummed, looking around the room. It was indeed a latish time for her to be here. In contract to the countless media outlets fussing about outside, Ferrari’s motorhome maintained a tranquil commodious space.

The clank of her shoes echoed through the air as it hit the marbled ground. Strolling further inside, she has yet to spot the one she was looking for.

“Charles is getting ready in his driver’s room,” Fred supplied as if having read her mind. “He will be out shortly. Feel free to have a seat in the lounge.”

Sofina nodded, flashing Fred a grateful smile before he went on to do his job.

She went ahead and sat down on one of the red polyester armchair while Joris settled in a duplicate just across her.

After a several minutes of endlessly replying to company emails and submitting “between life and death” documents to her father, the faint squeaking of sneakers finally broke the cycle.

Sofina instantly glanced up from her torturous tasks to be greeted by a certain emerald eyed, Monegasque.

“Charlie!” She beamed at him, standing up with her arms already reaching for him.

Charles’s dimples pop out from the corners of his mouth at the greeting. He happily granted the excited girl’s request, elongating his arms around her waist.

He chuckled as her antsy limbs encircled his neck, never-minding the constricting grip she has on them. Bending down, he allowed her an easier access that was suppressed by their differences in height.

She gasped as she pulled away, sending Charles into a frenzy at the sudden reaction. He searched her eyes for answers but was only given a cutting glare.

“Have you been eating well?” She interrogated, voice low but filled with nothing but concern. “You look thinner than when I last saw you . . .”

Charles raised an eyebrow, corner of his lips twitching at her exaggerated statement. “We saw each other last week.”

“And?” She asked, genuinely confused by his utterance.

Charles laid his palms on both sides of her face, blaring out her displeasure with the mission to smooth out the distress on her.

“Ow!” She hissed, swatting away his arm as pain seared in her cheek from his the ministrations of his fingertips.

“I’m fine, bébé,” He assured, bitting his lip to prevent the further growth of his smirk. “You know training in the first week is the most crucial. It’s normal to lose weight.”

“By this much?” She scoffed, motioning to his face. His cheeks were hollower, making his cheekbones more prominent and the thinning of his face were generally noticeable.

Charles tried to ward away her worries, placing a soft peck on her cheek before shifting his attention to Joris.

Sofina watched them engage in pleasantries, Joris mentioning how dressed up Sofina was. She merely stifled a laugh at the scandalize look that resurfaced on his features once more at the topic.

“Oh come on,” Charles quipped, eyes traveling from her feet to the top of her head. “She looks fantastic,” He winked, “You look very beautiful,”

Sofina gave him a thumbs up at his specification, amused by his antics.

“What do you need now? More money? A cheque? A car?” She raised a finger up to silence his mirthful face. “My soul?”

His bubbly exterior exploded into a fit of hysterics at the reference she used. Sofina introduced him the hit reality show Keeping Up With The Kardashians when the pandemic started. It was her insistent persuasion that ultimately led them to binge watching every episode until they’ve had to wait for the newest one.

Joris rolled his eyes at the giggling pair, waiting for them to collect themselves. Sofina caught his eyes and began to explain. “It’s Khloe Kardashian.”

Truthfully, he didn’t gain any knowledge from the vague clarification. Nonetheless, he nodded.

“Do you need anything?” Charles faced Sofina.

“Aside from today’s testing results, not really.” She concluded, tapping at her phone to check her duties. “Sorry I wasn’t here for first and second day. I was drowning in paperwork.”

Charles omitted a sound of sympathy. Now that he was paying attention to her face, the dark circles under her eyes were more visible, matching the exhausted sigh that passed her lips.

“Did something happen?” He queried, gliding his fingers through the disarrayed curls from when she was sitting down.

She shook her head. “No, not exactly. But you know— I can handle it.” A buzz blossomed on her chest as the warmth of Charles’s palm radiated on her cheek.

Charles inhaled deeply, adjusting to the shift of the atmosphere. Instead of adding to the heavy pressure, he decided to change the subject.

“The car’s doing great,” He chided, hand falling onto her shoulder. “Ferrari finished on a high on both days. . .”

Sofina managed a smile, bobbing her head at the news she already knew. The information should have brought her more joy than what she was currently feeling but for some reason, a churning sensation struck her in the pit of her stomach.

“. . . Maybe even faster than Redbull?”

The claim got her to look up at Charles. A sheepish simper on his lips. Sofina couldn’t resist the amused huff hold hostage in her throat.

“With all improvements made, it’s a relief you’re more comfortable in the car than last year,” Her affirmation was met with a consensus from Charles and Joris.

Whenever Sofina was consumed by the sudden reminder of her intense duties, this was a place she often ran to. Ran to hide from the ridiculous demands of her supposedly unproblematic life.

With them, the biting tension of having to continuously prove herself didn’t exist in the here. It was without a doubt, easier to be. Especially in the eyes of whom knew her best.

Sofina met Charles’s eye. His emerald spheres dancing with a molten rays of the Bahrain sunlight. She would never tire of staring at them. The absurd amount of beguiling enchantment his eyes hold should be dubbed as illegal. If one were to stop and take a moment to admire he—

“GOOD MORNING, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!”

The sonorous voice from the speakers woke Sofina’s consciousness from her trance. She swiftly blinked away the dolly lopsided smile stuck on her face, tearing her gaze away from Charles. She bore the boundless embarrassment in regards the drawn out time she spent gawking at him.

“You— you get out there and uh—” She cleared her throat, avoiding his teasing eyes. “—Do your best—Charles!” She squirmed, a hand shoving at his shoulder as he got into her face, trying to catch her adorably flaming cheeks.

Charles aired out a laugh at the deathly glare she sent his way, admiring the futile attempt to hide her blushing face from him.

“I’ll see you later?” He declared, soft and gentle.

“Of course.” She wheeled her eyes, struggling to keep her smirk in bay as she saw to giddy look in his face.

With one last peck on the cheek and a wave for Joris, he turned and went on his way to the garage.

The tremulous sigh she released nearly collapsed her lung. Another year of Formula One, and owning most of Ferrari’s sponsorship held a great weight on Sofina’s shoulders. The pillars of her chosen empire were bound to fall with one wrong move. Proving her father right was the last thing she wanted and she’d hate for all of this to be blown in a million pieces because of what her father referred to as her incapability to be a firm leader.

Alas, heavy is the head that wears the crown and so is the heart that weighs it down.

Tag-list: @seairsunset @mindflay3r @tangointhequango @bwormie @eugene-emt-roe @herondalism @comfortzonequeen @weekendlusting @nomie-11 @i-ship-bullshit-2020 @cc13723things @charlesgirl16 @namgification @charizznorizz @missenclod @outerudeth

[starlightshadowsworld]

The Sheep King and his Demon AU

Aka Bsd except Chuuya doesn't join the Port Mafia.

"What's the occasion, Chuuya? Don't tell me we have an anniversary I'm not aware off." Chuuya rolls his eyes but his smile is found as he hands Dazai a large bag.

"Nothing like that" he hesitates "just... Open it." Dazai takes it, intrigued as to what's gotten Chuuya so shy.

He's about to tease him for it but pauses, seeing the bags contents.

It's a hoodie. A large one, so it's definitely not one of Chuuya's. It's a sandy brown with a patch of a white crab sewn on the front.

"None of us have a problem with you wearing your usual clothes. But the weather's getting cold, and we don't exactly have the best heating." Explains Chuuya, pointedly looking anywhere but at Dazai.

Dazai runs a hand over the fabric, it's soft and cosy but not in a way that would make him feel uncomfortable.

"We found it. The rest, well we couldn't get you anything new so we all pitched in." Says Chuuya, seeing Dazai pull out the rest of the items.

Yuan's light blue gloves. A pair of Shirase's tan trousers. Brown boots Dazai recalls Chuuya complaining about not fitting him. A white t-shirt with short sleeves, would cover the parts his bandages wouldn't.

And a black coat, but unlike his Port Mafia coat this one was shorter, waterproof and warm.

"And I know it's no Port Mafia fashion but-" Chuuya is cut from his nervous rambling by Dazai kissing him. Dazai smiles, a fond and warm smile that eases all Chuuya's fears.

"You did this, all so I wouldn't catch a cold?" Chuuya blushes, gently turning over the coat and revealing the back, the symbol of the Sheep sewn on.

"And so when you come down here, everyone in Suribachi knows, you're one of us. That your mine and not to mess with you."

It was Dazai's turn to blush brightly and he laughs, warm and bright and hugs Chuuya who hugs him.

The next time Dazai shows up it's in his new outfit. He's suprised by how light he feels wearing it.

Maybe it's because it shows the Sheep accept him, having given pieces of their own meager wardrobes to keep him warm.

In a way that is comfortable because they know him well enough to know what he likes.

Or maybe it was Chuuya's smile when he saw Dazai walk in wearing it. And the approving smiles of the Sheep, even if they did smirk knowingly.

Dazai was sure it was both, and both was good

[silverinkbottle]

Oh. You

Alright. Finished up the season, enraptured by the concept and premise. Especially with our lovely deer boi's total not mental break at the end.

HUGE SPOILERS FOR FINALE OF HAZBIN. GO WATCH THEN READ

Chapter 2 <-

Warnings: Violence. Murky employment of child-like spirits.

Alright. On to the premise of the fic AU.

Summary: Unexpected meetings with Exes are always dramatic. Meetings in Hell after a historic battle aren't an exception to the rule.

A/N: Shorter chapter, but writing the next one as we speak. Yes, more Reader powers/backstory shall be revealed. This was just a hint of it.

Radio Demon..Gone

A pause in the wave of whispers.

Defeated?

Your lips curled in quaint satisfaction. It wasn’t true. No, he was far too proud to go out like that. The cigarette in your left hand was quickly extinguished in a nearby ash tray as you slid over the familiar carriage of the metal typewriter. The melodic ding of the mechanisms as your fingers hovered over the cool keys. The pamphlet would have to be perfect as you could all but hear your boss’s ranting and raving if the ‘excitement’ of the failed extermination. The bravado of Hell’s singular Princess. That was the problem when writing propaganda, it was so much harder when imagining details instead witnessing them first. Or second hand as there was a faint ding of a bell, a small furred paw slid across a new memo over your desk as you glanced over it with little interest. 

Radio Demon. Located.

“Show me. My little rabbit.” You purred as your little messenger respectfully tipped his hat to you. Gently gripping your hand with its paws, you couldn’t help but hold your breath at the claustrophobic sensation of the endless darkness. It was how these little lost souls traveled throughout Hell, through the little pockets of forgotten realities.  Never really existing as a true Sinner or Hellborne, all but clinging to a semblance of existence instead of nothing. It’s how your ‘paper’ boys came to your service. The boys came in a collection of fur colors, blacks, browns, whites even the occasional red, all with long rabbit ears popping through tweed caps, looking smart in little vests and trousers. One key feature remained the same, their facial features were blank like a mannequin in a shop. As if unable to manifest their ‘true’ faces from their past, or was it the disjointed collection of spirits unable to enforce a singular will on the others. 

“Oh”.  Your eyes flickered around to the carnage of rubble. It was a mess, that was the gentlest way of putting it. However, there was an undeniable note of copper in the air, mingling with strangely sweet notes as you nudged at the corpse of an Exorcist in passing. Even that tap with your boot provoked further golden ichor from numerous stab wounds. 

“Don’t touch that.” You hissed quickly grabbing the paperboy’s hand to plug him away from the puddle. Who knew what would happen if it managed to somehow consume the holy blood. The gory vision of an imploded corpse passed over your mind. Or somehow the souls reviving themselves. No, it wouldn’t do as your hand tightened about the child-like figure’s wrist as the pair of you marched toward the wreckage of the radio station. 

The copper flecks in the warped into something far saltier as you unceremoniously kicked in the half-broken door. A squeak of excitement came from your servant as it was drawn to the energy lingering in the air, bouncing into the room. Paws reaching for the unseen as another loud squeal came from its’ faceless mask. A true scream like that of a small child as black blood dripped down onto the floor, followed by the corpse dissipating much to the disappointment of the predator. Alastor lazily flicked the ink-like blood from his hand as you sighed.

“You look like shit.” You said as that seemed to grab his attention from the corpse to you. Suit torn, a visibly hurt shoulder and above all, that dim smile that seemed to go even thinner with your inspection.

“Like even worse than the time with those moonshiners who gave us a bad batch after that wrong call out. Worse than-” 

“What. Are. You. Doing. Here.” 

His words edged with a metallic screech as you couldn’t help but laugh. His pride made it all the worse to have someone witness the great, dangerous, infamous ‘Radio Demon’ licking his wounds. 

“Making sure your ears aren’t burning, darling. The walls talk and this whole stand-off with Heaven will be all the rage on the streets. Especially about YOUR disappearance after returning so briefly for all the fanfare you stirred up. Aligning yourself with the Princess of Hell, facing Angels and aiding in some hotel. Had to come see it for myself..”

“Seems like I was a bit late for that last part. Shame.” You sighed as you jabbed a pointed finger towards the mess outside. Stepping over the corpse it was all too easy to see the little restraint remaining in the demon’s gaze as sharp nails grabbed your face.

“Don’t get pissy because I am telling YOU the truth. A nice change for once, don’t you agree?” You teased as his free hand drifted over the crimson fur of your fox ears. Your sharp canine sank down onto your lower lip to resist the urge to squeal when the gentle touch turned to a rougher tug. A thin trickle of blood drifted over Alastor’s smug expression as you had managed to cut a razor-thin line with your folding knife over his skin. His throat would be next if he didn’t release your ears as you hissed low in your throat.

“Curiosity killed the cat, dearest. Surely you know that better than most.” Alastor retorted as his gaze flicked down to your covered throat. 

“Aren’t we terribly clever.” You sneered as you took a few steps back. Even in his weakened state, you knew it was wiser to play your cards cautiously than provoke him further. Genuine surprise crossed your features as you spied to battered remains of that infernal microphone. So those rumors were true as you withdrew your little black book from your dress pocket. A snap of your fingers as an inkwell pen neatly checked off the short list. You were quick to close the book with a loud sigh as Alastor’s peering over your shoulder was less than subtle. 

“Don’t you-”

“My, my, still writing all sorts of rumors aren’t you. However, do you find the time?” Alastor mused as he flicked lazily through the pages. Irritatingly sidestepping you with each attempted grab. There wasn’t much worth in that book, but it was still beyond infuriating. Taking a deep breath, you forced a pleasant smile on your face as your fingers snapped together. There was the faintest ding of a typewriter as another small rabbit-like creature sprang from the floor, collecting the book with a quick grab. 

“I have reliable help. Which is surprisingly difficult to come by these days. Unlike some Sinners, I can’t shrink from my duties to throw a temper tantrum.” You ticked off the comments on your fingers as Alastor’s ears went flat at the petty remark. 

“Oh, I am sorry. Would you like me to embellish it a bit? A dramatic session of sulking after a bruising defeat. An outburst of egotistical pride? No. Something far more crude. A shit-fit.” You nodded to your little rabbit as its paws hastily scribbled your dictation into the notebook.

“Hilarious.”

“I prefer charming.” You deadpanned as he shook his head at you. There was an almost faint feeling of nostalgia in the air now. It was almost human as the faintest memory of you finding him sulking after a less than perfect evening show. That his beat was off, ever the perfectionist as you patted his head with gentle encouragement. Far less cruel times before the darkness began to contaminate both of you.

“You never did answer my question. What are you doing here?” Alastor quipped as he ran a fingertip over the broken top of the microphone. 

“You really think I would miss out on the potential of this?” You dramatically gestured to the carnage about you.So many stories waiting to be written as you clapped your hands together. Summoning two more paperboys as their ears quivered from side to side waiting for your word. 

“Now off you go. Don’t leave a stone unturned. I wonder if we can get some true numbers on the casualties of saintly Heaven. Now would stir up the populace.” Your pen cut through your book without a thought as if you were in the privacy of your office. Instead of that of one ex-husband who was looking more and more perturbed at your avoidance of the question.

“I’m waiting.” Alastor chirped as his fingers splayed over the wet ink, pulling the book away from you. Or at least he tried to as you were quick to jab the sharp tip of the pen into his index fingers provoking a small hiss from the demon.

“You’ll keep waiting. I’ll give you a single crumb, I didn’t come here for YOU.” You snapped as you did your best to smooth out the crinkled page. The writing itself was a smudged mess of ink as you scowled at the once crisp paper.

“Then. Why?” Alastor asked as you gently closed the book shut, slipping it into your dress pocket. Now came the difficult or was it the dangerous part? Despite your estranged relationship, he was an Overlord and you were well..You. Your connections came from the rumor mills of Hell, whispers of your paperboys hiding in the shadows and the scant bit of information from the rants of your boss.

“I was asked to inspect the battleground, sort out the truth from the gossip and exaggerations. Plus the smallest bit of curiosity-”

“About-?” Alastor mused as he cocked his head at you.

“If it was true that Angels had been slain by their own weapons. I know markets are going to flux with all that. Not to mention the apparent discovery of near comatose cannibals found on the side of the road. Complaining about being TOO full for once, it was quite-” 

“You’re chirping an all too familiar song, kit. I know you are hiding something far more than that. Now whoever could have convinced YOU to do the dirty business of finding out sources yourself.” Alastor mused as he placed a single finger under your chin, tilting your head up to look at him.

“It was Vox.” 

Laughter burst from you as saw the telltale twitch of his right eye. The harsher smile over his face at the mere mention of his hated rival. The potential power vacuum or perhaps the reverse of it now that the King of Hell seemed less reclusive.

‘Now, don’t get your antlers in a knot. It wasn’t Vox, you really think I would lower myself and quality for his trash version of news? Please, darling. I do have standards.” You smirked as you smugly patted his cheek before turning on your heel to leave the wreckage of the studio.

“Now, don’t sulk for too long. I imagine that little hotel needs you now more than ever.” 

As soon as you stepped back into the air. Small papers were all but shoved in your direction. Questions, answers, comments all things to be filed away as you dove into your work. Allowing words to shove out the memories of the past. To continue forging your path in this forsaken place in your own way. With the smallest bit of leverage through blackmail, threats and a flair all your own. 

Flipping through the notes, the faintest tug on your sleeve pulled your attention from the words. A simple request. One that made you want to throw a tantrum of your own as the golden ink burned in your vision. It wasn’t a request. 

It was an order.

“Fuck me.” You hissed as you pulled a cigarette from your pocket, allowing the flame of your lighter to ignite the blissful nicotine and eat away at the fine paper. Burning the message into ash to join the rest of the wreckage around you.

You hated feeling cornered. It was an ugly feeling that made your skin crawl like a fox with its leg caught in a trap. There was bitter irony in the scenario as you caught sight of your reflection in the mirror. The vulpine-like features weren’t as much of a hindrance as you knew it could be for other sinners. Your ears twitched as you could hear the faint conversation outside on the street beneath your room’s window. However, it did make your emotions more expressive as you could guard your tongue, but your ears were another story when it came to harsher emotions.  Running a brush through the soft fur of your tail as you perched on the edge of your desk, quietly directing the paperboys about you. Files had to be carefully moved, copied, sent elsewhere for safekeeping and then copied again. Each copy had little fragments of the truth in it, it would be quite the task to assemble all the pieces of the puzzle if someone was desperate enough. Or stupid enough given the true owner of the content wasn’t fond of others knowing his secrets.

Hours passed in a mere blink of the eye as you sighed running your fingers over the last box of files with satisfaction. All written in ink or typed by typewriter, some called your method of recordkeeping outdated. You preferred to think of it as efficient, it was far more difficult to change dried ink than a meddlesome electronic document. Besides, your boss was pleased as long as you managed to write his dictations without the need for a pause in his rambling. Yet, given the events lately, hopefully the work would keep him bursting into your quarters late at night too often.

Clicking together the last few buttons of your tweed dress collar as the lapel was accented by a singular red rose pin, you couldn't help but admire the shine of it. Its metallic petals caught in the sunlight as you stepped out onto the busy streets.You were quick to grab the ears of the paperboys flanking you, halting them from bolting off, especially with the boxes in their hands.

“No time to dawdle, I can’t be late..” You hissed before releasing the furry ears with a nod. Others would soon follow their steps as you silently hoped your arrival wouldn’t be met with much trouble. Up to the steps of the newly refurbished, rebuilt and endorsed by the King of Hell himself, the newly improved..

Hazbin Hotel