#but at the end of the day she is not a bad person
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thedropsofblood · 2 days ago
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A wolf in hunter's clothing
Warnings: Dub-con, age gap (????), mostly gender neutral but made with male reader in mind, size difference, started as rough -> slightly sweet mid-way, bratty reader, overstimulation, blindfolding, implied obsessive behaviour.
Word count: 8k
Minors DNI, do not report, I WILL cry /nsrs
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Isekai, the act of transporting a person from earth to a different planet, world, universe, usually of a novel or a video game. It was a childish concept that you haven't bothered and never intended to look into, until you got 'isekaied' yourself.
Unlike what your younger siblings have told you, instead of beautiful vast magical worlds filled with sub-human species and a logical storyplot, you ended up in the most boring case scenario, a fairy tale. Specifically, the "Red Riding Hood" children's book that fell out of the shelf and onto the ground next to you while you were at a bookstore.
As any normal person does, you picked up the book, hoping to put it back to it's original spot, but got your body sucked into the pages instead. To be fair, it could've been worse, so, so much worse. You luckily didn't become the new Red Riding Hood, instead, you became the older brother of the Red Riding Hood.
It's not as bad as it sounds, like, you have a loving and caring family of both parents and an adorable younger sister, as well as a grandmother who you occasionally visits for the first 18 years of your life. What more could you ask for?
The life of your younger sister, that's what you could ask for. Even if they're technically not real, you couldn't help but care for them, care for the years of family meetings, the little happy moments, the vacations, even something as trivial as a meal together. And yet, imagine how your heart sunk in once you heard your mother tell your sister to deliver the cookies to your grandmother tomorrow after hearing rumors of the hunter being on break on the same day.
It made your anxiety levels go wayhire. Your sister's and your grandmother's life depended on the hunter after all, what would happen to them if there's no more hunter? Will they die under the wolf's hands? Can you even escape this book if they die?
.
.
.
Would you be trapped here forever then? What about your family outside of this? Would they even still remember you after 18 years? Worse, what if they just, hate you now?
Why should you even leave this place if that's the case?...
You crawled onto a ball on your bed, hugging onto the soft pillow in search of even a little bit of comfort. This place wasn't real, none of this is, your world was simply a scramble of words combined together by some random old man hundreds of years back, hell, you weren't even supposed to be here, why would you care if your supposed 'sister' and 'grandmother' dies?
Yet you found yourself restless. You had an idea on what to do, god knows if it'll work, but... It'll never hurt to try, right?
You throw your pillow away and change into warmer clothes, turning off the lights before sneaking out of the house through the window, heading directly towards the bright tavern in the middle of the town.
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"Brother, why are you not eating? Do you not like it?" The voice of your sister knocked you right out of your thoughts, scrambling to take a bite out of the sandwich she made for you.
"No no- it's good, it's good, I'm just thinking about what I need to get for groceries." Your sister barely bought your excuse, barely. You can still see her crossing her arms and pouting in the corner of your eyes. She was glaring at you for a few solid minutes, as if trying to pry the truth from you. With a huff, she leaned back against the chair and muttered under her breath.
"Remember to buy some candy for me while you're at it then, I'm gonna go now. I don't wanna leave grandma waiting." You let out a mental sigh of relief, ruffling your little sister's hair. "You're just as childish as ever." You chuckled.
Before you sister leaves, she jumped into your arms to give you a hug causing a small smile escapes from your mouth. Your hand reached up to pat her on the head, if you had to be honest, you don't know if you regret your deal with the hunter or not anymore.
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"Shit... If I knew slacking off would get you on my dick, I would've taken so many vacations."
The hunter chuckled, leaning in to place a loving kiss on your forehead. You pushed his head back to give him a glare, well, as best as a glare could be with the blindfold covering your eyes. You barked, gritting your teeth as you tried to kick him in the stomach.
"Shut the fuck up and just get it done with already. This deal was only for my family, bastard. Bet you can't even get anyone else to get into bed with you without forcing them into shitty deals-" Your words were cut mid way when he firmly slapped you across your face, his other hand gripping your ankle and hosteling your leg onto his shoulder.
You hissed in annoyance, yet a part of you felt pride for successfully pissing the hunter off. You can only assume what his face was like right now, is he glaring down at you like a lamb in the slaughter or is that stupid smug smirk on his face away? You didn't even have time to guess twice before he shoved his fingers into your mouth with a firm "Suck."
You held yourself back from laughing when you got your answer immediately, this guy was pissed as fuck. You decided to comply anyways, sucking on his fingers and making sure to bite them lightly as you pulled back.
"Sweetheart, did nobody teach you to not play with fire?" His hand wandered down to thrust his fingers roughing into you, his other hand gripping onto your chin to muffle your noises with a kiss.
This fucking bastard didn't even give you a warning before he turned you into puddy over his fingers, you bit onto the bottom of his lips, but instead of him pulling away, he continued on, ignoring the way you clawed onto his back as if you were trying to murder him.
Your hands reach up to try and remove your blindfold out of annoyance, leading to his hand snapping up to hold your wrists together, the other one pulling out of you to unbuckle his belt. "Good boys don't disobey their orders, sweetheart." He chuckled half-heartedly.
That scratched you in the worst way possible, but before you could even react, he thrust the tip of his dick into you, stealing all the air out of your lungs. "Fucking! Ugh- Warn me!" Your nails dug onto your palm, you felt like all your body strength just disappeared into thin air.
You didn't even have time to complain about it after he thrusted fully into you, huffing at the sight of your body shaking like a leaf under him. It was adorable how your attitude went away as soon as he entered, but to be fair, you would probably be more horrified when you realized his dick made a small bump on your stomach.
"What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?" He chuckled, placing a kiss on your forehead as he started moving at a fairly gentle pace. He freed your wrists to grip onto your hips, leaning forward to place comforting kisses on your neck. "Come on, let me hear those beautiful noises of yours, sweetheart."
You bit the bottom of your lip to the point of drawing blood, your hands gripping onto the bedsheets underneath to the point of your knuckles turning white. Despite your efforts, some small muffled noises still managed to escape your throat, which was enough for him to speed up his ravage with a satisfied grin.
"You're truly so, so adorable, sweetheart." He groaned, hugging you and burying his face into your collarbone. Your hand moved to grip onto his hair to try and push him away, but it barely felt like anything to him due to the lack of strength in your body. Your antics didn't last long anyways, you were already a cock-drunk moaning mess under him, and at this point, he thinks he likes you better this way.
Those thoughts made him bite your neck roughly as he threw away all self control he had, prioritizing on chasing his own pleasure instead. You wouldn't have complained if you didn't get overstimulated from that, you already came a few moments beforehand, and he didn't even give you a break from abusing your sweet spot even more.
You couldn't be bothered to try and stay quiet when you felt like you would break under him. As a warm feeling filled your stomach, you felt lightheaded as you closed your eyes, trying to calm yourself down from the climax.
He pulled you into a hug, his hand patting you on the back of your head as he pulled out and rested you on your side. Before you drifted off to sleep, you felt a kiss on your cheek as he muttered something you couldn't make out.
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A/N: This was supposed to be wolf X reader but I felt like writing some dilfs today, wondering if I should start writing more dilfs...
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vifilms · 1 day ago
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THE FIRST BITE!
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pairing. rugby player!abby x fem!reader x rugby player!vi
the introduction. abby anderson, the co-captain of the legends. the thickest, strongest girl around and she sure does pull like it. then there’s vi, tragically pathetic unable to get a girlfriend vi, a co-captain with some of the past game in the pitch but can’t find any to save her life off the field. or will misfortune of missing keys bring the luck directly to her?
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the two have done nothing but compete against each other from the day they were born. abby has been a big girl from a young age, taller than most, it didn’t take much for her to bulk up. her biceps bigger than the largest dumbells in the gym, thighs and legs strong enough to kill a man. it’s what made her a dominant force on the field. she’s a bull you’ll try like hell to doze over, but the task is nearly impossible.
then there’s violet.
she’s not as big or strong, but she’s quick. she relies on it for every match. gliding on the pitch like a leopard. it’s because of her sheer speed that the team has won so frequently. violet is also the painful thorn in abby’s side, why she isn’t the sole captain but co-captains. the best of the best coach sev says, the yin and yang of professional rugby.
abby isn’t too sure of it but she’s in it to win and for that it’s the only reason why a bond is forged between them. the hatred they have for each other becomes kinship, hours on the field bringing out the best in each other only makes them win and win, and fucking win. the surrounding districts wanting to know coach sev’s secret.
it’s friendship.
two weeks from the quarter finals, the pair decides to blow off steam and that’s when the real competition between them thrives. until recently, abby had been happily taken, violet didn’t have to compete with the beefcake. even if she’d never admit it, abby makes her feel insecure. she’s smart, kind, and seriously ripped.
the amount of girls she turns town in one night at the local bar, seraphites, makes her wanna shrivel into a ball until all she feels is the a black hole swallowing her essence whole.
but now abby is single and god, vi will cry into her pillow if another girl she thinks is pretty leaves home with abby.
“don’t feel so bad. most wouldn’t last this long with me around.”
“yeah, i feel so grateful to still be here.”
abby chuckles as she playfully punches at vi’s shoulder.
“i’ll throw you a solid tonight then, the after party after quarter finals, i won’t munch all night and you know how hard that is for me.” abby playfully pouts.
“oh, really? how pitiful. that’s actually worse than competing with you. a sympathy thrown one night stand.”
abby harmlessly puts her hands up, taking a sip from her chilled beer. immediately, the bartender starts chatting up with her and abby starts being abby. it infuriates her how little the broad blonde has to try. she slips into this girl every damn gay girl in town eats up like a midnight snack.
each time, she starts it off slow. easy. throwing a compliment your way, if that bite into the bait, they always touch her hand, her arm, or stroke the vein protruding from her bicep. abby shamelessly flirts until they’re giggling, nearly putty in her hands.
a couple hours later, the two of them are leaving but vi is walking home alone while abby is entering a cab with the breathtaking bartender who’s shift has just conveniently ended.
it’s the only night she’s thankful abby left. it’s then she realizes as she attempts to get in her shared apartment with blondie that she’s keyless and no way to get into her apartment. the office is closed and she is so severely fucked.
vi doesn’t realize that’s she just sitting there like an idiot staring until a stranger’s voice pulls her out of it.
“any luck with your mind warping powers or are you keyless?”
vi jumps at the voice, locking eyes with the most gorgeous person she’s ever seen in her life. it doesn’t help you are wearing the shortest skirt she’s ever seen, cleavage spilling out of your top and she admires the white sheer top you’re wearing.
she feels a tad breathless.
that has nothing to with you.
just her predicament.
totally.
“do you have a roommate to call?”
vi comes to it and she murmurs and soft yeah, trying to not make eye contact with the goddess she somehow has managed to embarrass herself over.
quickly, she dials abby’s number, waiting for her to pick up not, once, not twice, but three times. damn fucker is munching right now, vi swears to herself.
but she didn’t say it to herself, she said it out loud where the girl of dreams is giggling as she speed texts abby, trying to evoke a response from her.
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“indisposed and munching?” you ask, you’re smirking and vi is blushing.
“yeah, her favorite extra curricular activity and she does it exceedingly fast.”
“is it yours too?”
shit.
oh my fucking shit.
are you hitting on her?
no. that’s not humanly possible for someone like you to be hitting on someone as tragic as her. vi’s convinced it’s just because abby isn’t here. that’s all. her cockblocking stunner of a best friend isn’t here to make her life sufferable but the way you’re eyeing her up like a hot piece of meat should make her feel slightly objectified if you she wasn’t doing the exact same thing.
“right girl, right munch.”
it’s the dumbest thing vi’s ever said but you laugh. offering her a spot on your couch and she’s eternally grateful for. you even have a pair of shorts and a spare t-shirt that she can sleep in. she’s eternally grateful she doesn’t have to sit outside her apartment alone for god knows how long waiting for abby to be done with her seven course meal.
violet planned to actually sleep but then you play a vinyl record on the turntable and it just so happens to be vi’s favorite and she can’t stop telling about every song on the record. she’s so animated as she talks, her powder hues vibrant as she goes into the lyrics she loves the most, what songs made her cry first listen and the songs that still make her cry to this day.
you’re looking at her the way vi’s always wanted to be look at. before either of you know it, four albums later, it’s nearly four in the morning and you’re leaning in close to her, so much so vi isn’t sure she can even breath. a vibrant pink strand gets twirled around your finger.
“know about all your favorite albums but not a name to the pretty face.”
“violet. or vi. whatever you prefer.” vi struggles to breathe even further as your lips ghost over hers.
“what do you prefer?”
“violet.”
you take a pause, licking your lips, slightly crazing violet’s lips. she looks a like a deer in headlight, terrified to make the first move but you like how shy she is, how she voices the thoughts she isn’t meant to. there’s a sweetness you want to sink your teeth into like cotton candy.
“violet it is then.”
putting her out of her own misery, your soft lips mold with hers and you’re dominant from the start. placing a delicate hand on her throat, claiming her with your tongue as you devour her whole. it’s hot and heavy. the clashing of teeth, the pulls at her pink hair, and violet can’t help but bring you closer to her.
still wearing this insufferably short skirt, vi smooths her touch over your soft thighs beneath the fabric. the two of you getting lost in each other until it’s all abruptly stops. she’s funneling her under the hem of your shirt, playing with the buttons until she absentmindedly plucks one open.
“fuck—” you curse, trying to maintain your compose but violet plucks another button and your perfect tits spill out of the material.
“yeah?” violet smirks, not being nearly as innocent as she appears.
“time to put that extra curricular to use then. let’s see how munch of a munch you can be.”
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rayray’s nonsense. UM HI IDEK KNOW WHAT THE FUCK THIS IS. um. yeah. abby x vi are my favs and i'm forcing this on everyone but i also fuck with it??? idek. this is a crazy midnight kinda post, spur of the moment if you will. gonna try not to get tew in my head 'bout this. that's for future me to deal with BUT ALSO DO WE FUCK WITH IT???? only time will tell. ALRIGHT. let me work on this mega long vi fic i got going on .... byeeeeee ♡
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igbylicious · 19 hours ago
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asdjksdjksdjk ISAK!!!!!! (ฅ́˘ฅ̀)
ahhhhh pls you already said it yourself but yeah, no explanation is owed <3 above all else, it just sucks that you've been doing bad, i hate that for you :// i hope this is a sign things are improving, and that it keeps getting easier for you to do fun things and do fandom stuff the way you want to again ♡♡♡
(and if that means that i now get to kick my feet and flap my hands over a 'proper' Isak reblog™, then that is just an amazing treat as a secondary side-effect for me askjdjkds (≧◡≦)♡ (fr, big big flappy hands <3<3))
(heck, i've been kinda stumbling around too; i totally get that sometimes life forces you to put things in the backseat :// manifesting a better 2025 for us both OR ELSE!! *squares off w/ the universe* (૭ˇò_ó)૭ )
ANYway! <3
San pretending to be tired of him too hdjnfhjs<3 sillie
San was just being a lil grump for having to fight down a boner when like half of their friends were right inside uwu ♡ Wooyoung remains forever and always the MVP of this trio (´꒳`)♡
Not them actually having a moving day bingo card pffff  that’s amazing 
hehe the trio is all abt using some silly life hacks to put a bit of fun in Big Stressful Happenings like moving! ♡
:’))))))))))
they've both come so far together :')
Mullet woo!!!!! thank you igby for this gift :’D 
i had to do it asdkjsdjksdjk this haircut has a tender death-grip on my sanity <3 originally he was gonna dye his hair red again bc Halazia-Woo-my-beloved, but then the comeback happened and ugh the mullet is just so beautiful on him :') i'm consumed by the wistful yearning to twirl & play w/ his hair forever :')
oh m  y god.  fuck. that’s so hot. i’m glad Reader had a peek and was able to describe this very important scene.
lbr, totally worth the 'punishment' <3 esp since she got to watch them in the end anyway hehe :3
Reader is so cute here = u= just a little silly 
reader being like [surprised pikachu.jpeg] when her usual tactics to butter up the dom don't get her what she wants :o
The “crescendo” of this first round was so fucking good, with Reader and Yunho watching woosan = u= San was the perfect amount of mean and rough. He smacked Woo’s cock into orgasm?? hello???? And Woo was beautifully wrecked. Such a little mess <3 
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH <3 fr i'm always SO happy when you're happy w/ how Woo gets ruined!!! (°◡°♡)
DYING for the way they talk about Woo like he isn’t there. Vague objectification vibes, which is a sure 10/10 kink for me personally. 
i feel you, ngl this type of talk might be one of my top favourite things abt writing moresomes (♡ ˙ ︶ ˙ ♡)
IGBY!!! Wooyoung all but sobbing underneath Yunho as he’s trying to fit inside him, the emphasis on how small he is in comparison, ho wrecked he is 😭it’s so good 
again: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!! <3 the two moments of Woo having his turn w/ San & then Yunho were def two highlights for me to write asdjkskdjsdjk SERIOUSLY I'M SO EXCITED YOU ENJOYED THOSE (also true story i often use 'is Wooyoung wrecked enough to suffice as an offering to Isak?' as a mental check-point to decide if i need to amp up a sub!woo scene more asdjksdjksdjk <3)
The brief YunSan praise and kiss were so lovely = u= i bet it’s so nice for San to have that bit of verbal approval from his “mentor” even though he’s a full fledged dom of his own now!
asdjksdjksdjk i'm super stoked you liked this & the lil San roasting moments!!! imo sometimes there just needs to be space for a bit of laughter during sex :'3 and yes San can handle the teasing, but he def still deserved some validation after all that ♡ plus, Yunho knows perfectly well that his protégé has a big ol' praise kink hehe (ღ˘⌣˘ღ)
(besides, i couldn't not have a Yunsan moment! they're one of my favourite ships after all <3 (tho ironically i usually prefer my Yunho's in that ship as the biggest softest sweet pleasure doms lol))
Of course theyre watching spiderman ahahaaah <3
whiway yunho may be a hard dom in the sheets but still a total spidey nerd in the streets! (⁀ᗢ⁀)
welp time for me to get a lil a lot sappy ilu Isak and genuinely i hope nothing but good things come for you in the new year ♡ ik i'm kinda... distant within the fandom bc of my own messy stuff but pls know you're legit one of my very fave ppl here (which btw you also would've been if you never even read my stuff lol, i just love your sense of humour and the amazing vibes you & your blog bring to my dash <3 the fact that one day you came across whichever way and decided to give it a shot? yeah i consider myself real damn lucky for that one <3<3<3)
whichever way: crossed roads [yunwoosan x reader]
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pairing: yunwoosan x f reader
rating: 18+
genre: smut, fluff
wc: 15k
summary: Yunho never got to have the threesome he wanted with San and Wooyoung — but he sees no reason to complain, not when he gets to have a foursome with you instead.
note: this is a oneshot sequel to my series whichever way. imo it’s prob more fun w/ context & the start will be less confusing, but this fic is like 90% sex so if you’re just here for the smut then i’m sure you’ll still have a good time ♡(>ᴗ•)
warnings: OH BOY GET READY. foursome, dom Yunho & San, sub Wooyoung & reader, m x m, triple penetration (you have three holes for a reason), bigdick San but monstercock Yunho, voyeur reader, soft cnc play, body worship, hand kink, dirty talk, subspace, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, hand-on-throat, choking, dumbification, objectification, praise & degradation kink, spanking, pussy slap, cock slap, fake sweet Yunho my beloved, reader wears a babydoll, tie as an improvised blindfold, partially clothed sex, blowjob / face fucking, cum play, footjob (reader receiving) (sorry not sorry), dacryphilia, thigh-fucking, cockwarming, vaginal/anal fingering/sex, cumshots, creampies, buttplug (for Woo), mention of fisting, lowkey marathon sex, no condom in sight, nicknames for reader (good/pretty girl, sweetheart, baby, pervert, cockslut, toy, cocksleeve), aftercare, off-screen kink negotiation
a/n: features a soft-bodied aromantic reader who uses she/her pronouns & is in an established QPR w/ Woosan. she’s called ‘little’ but like cute/demeaning, not a reflection on physical size
a/n²: anyway this fic is for the readers who love their rightful place on the fujoshi throne, but also want to be worshipped in the center of attention like the royalty they are <3
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“So uh… is having sex together still on the table?”
Wooyoung looks around him expectantly. The grin on his face is cheeky, but the question completely serious.
“Woo, really?” San pinches the bridge of his nose, his cheeks still flushed, but he’s slowly recovering from the the series of curve balls thrown past him in the past minute.
Meanwhile, you are struck by the most intense feeling of deja vu, a memory echoing through your head of that fated question Wooyoung once asked you:
“Did you like the view?”
…Well. You had just been staring at Yunho’s hands. You glance at him again, his handsome face and soft tousled hair, the easygoing confidence with which he holds himself — and you can’t deny that you also like this view very much indeed.
Yunho bursts out in a surprised laugh at Wooyoung’s question, hiding his mouth behind one of those distractingly large hands. “Hey now, you aren’t saying that out of pity, are you!”
“Pity?” Wooyoung snorts, offended at the suggestion. “Come on Yunho, you know me better than that.”
“Hm, I guess you’re right, I do,” Yunho hums, contemplative. His eyes, usually bright and alive with joy, are now pinned on you with dark interest, studying your reaction to all of this.
You shiver at his intense gaze, wondering if the hard glint in Yunho’s gaze is a glimpse of what he’s like as a dom.
You’ve asked San questions about his past with Yunho, of course, but never pressed beyond what he willingly shared. Instead you buried your curiosity; you always assumed you’d never experience them as a team in the bedroom anyway, so why torture yourself with impossible fantasies?
But that is where Wooyoung is different from you; the bold, wise, Wooyoung, who knows better than to make assumptions. Who knows you can always just ask.
(Fuck, you need to thank him later.)
Now all your dormant curiosity comes flooding to the surface, giving your vivid imagination free reign. You swallow and reflexively reach up to brush your hand over your throat, wondering what it’d feel like to have those long fingers there instead.
Yunho’s eyes follow the movement, burning heat into your skin. His tongue prods the inside of his cheek, so briefly you almost miss it, then he turns to San.
“Well, how about it, San-ah?” he says, a playful grin curling around his lips. “A reunion, for old time’s sake?”
San lets out a deep, slow sigh, shaking his head in disbelief. But it’s not a ‘no’; you recognise the look in his eyes for what it is. Fluster, yes — but his embarrassment is rapidly overwhelmed by something else entirely, sharp and smouldering. You’ve often seen that look on him before, for the first time right after Wooyoung asked you how you liked the view, so long ago by now.
Seems like San likes the view too.
“Fuck, you guys are unbelievable,” he breathes with a wry chuckle, biting his lip as he looks over you, Wooyoung and Yunho. “Yeah. Why the hell not? Let’s fucking do it.”
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It just doesn’t seem right, but somehow life still goes on as normal after an earth-shaking conversation like that. So there you are the next afternoon, unpacking the last boxes from the move like it’s a perfectly ordinary day.
Wooyoung is already back to work at the flower store so it’s just you and San, filling up the half-empty bookcase. Each of you are going through a pile of games; you are sorting tabletop games, while San handles the console ones.
But while life might appear to go on like normal, there are definitely a few charged looks between you and San. Like you’re sizing each other up all over again, imagining all the ways he could wreck you with the help of his old partner-in-kink. A faint buzz of anticipation tingles across your skin, your mind constantly gliding away from the stack of cardgames that you’re supposed to organise.
Not much has been set in stone yet; you couldn’t exactly hash out all the dirty details on the spot, on a balcony with the door wide open and half your friends right inside. Instead Yunho promised he’d check his work calendar and text to set a date for a proper talk tomorrow, and that was the end of it for that day.
(The end of talking about it, at least. Your thoughts had still been going a thousand miles an hour, even into the night. You did have a relaxed morning with San and Wooyoung, quietly celebrating your first breakfast in the new apartment with a big spread of food, but now those thoughts are picking up speed again.)
“So. Yunho, huh?” you finally say, trying to sound casual as you speak the unspoken between you and San.
He snorts. “Yeah. Yunho. Gotta say, didn’t have that on my bingo card for our official moving in day.”
“And what a shame too,” you shake your head with a dramatic sigh. “You came so close to winning!” (But Wooyoung had taken the victory when ‘Seonghwa knocks over a pot of paint’ gave him a full column down the middle of his card.)
“Don’t remind me!” San pouts. “All I needed was you breaking a glass or a mug, I thought I had it for sure. You really let me down there.”
“Pff what? Sorry I guess??” you say, rolling your eyes, but then give him a cheeky little grin. “What are you gonna do, punish me for not being clumsy enough?”
San raises an interested eyebrow. “Could, yeah…” he says, rubbing his thumb over his bottom lip in consideration. “Could even ask Yunho to lend me a hand, I suppose.”
A heat creeps up your neck. “A hand, huh?” you say, trying and failing to sound casual.
“Yeah, you like his hands, right?” he grins.
You let out an embarrassed groan. “Ugh, am I really that obvious?”
“Eh, to be fair, not many people who don’t likes Yunho’s hands,” San says, but his grin widens before you can rejoice too much. “But yes, yes you are. Totally obvious.”
You shoot him a heavy side-look. “Don’t get too cocky, mister ‘openly checked out my ass the day after he moved in next-door to me’!”
“What can I say, it’s a good ass!” he laughs, rosy blush colouring his cheeks. Still, San gives you a thoughtful once-over. “So, is that the kinda direction you’d like this to go in? Might be useful if we hash out some of that stuff among ourselves before we do any negotiation with Yunho.”
“Oh! Actually, about that…”
“Hm?” San encourages you, curiosity gleaming in his eyes. “What’s on your mind?”
You bite your lip. A thought had struck you yesterday, after you and the guys had gone back to work. A thought that hasn’t let go of you since then.
“Well, you trust Yunho, right? As a dominant?”
“Completely,” San says without hesitation. “Wouldn’t let him in the room with you and Wooyoung if I didn’t.”
“Then… are you okay with it if I sit the negotiation out? Leave things up to you guys?”
San frowns, a mixture of surprise and confusion. “You… don’t want a say in what’ll happen?” he says, looking at you so intently that a wave of self-consciousness washes over you.
“Yeah, kinda? It’s just— It’s been a while since I’ve been with anyone but you and Wooyoung, and there’s something exciting about an unknown factor in the bedroom, you know? Not that I’m bored with you!” you add quickly, not wanting San to get the wrong idea. He can be a little sensitive, sometimes. “But… I just like the idea of not knowing Yunho. What kind of dom he is, what things he’s into, what he will do. Does that makes sense?”
Even now, you absent-mindedly rub your thighs together, feeling yourself get worked up at the thrill of the unknown. To have no idea how San and Yunho plan to break you down into bite-sized pieces for their enjoyment, or all the ways you’ll get to watch them do the same to Wooyoung, fucking the brat out of him until even the insatiable is sated.
“Hmm, yeah, makes sense,” San nods, looking you over thoughtfully. “So you want me to talk with Yunho for you then? …You trust me that much?”
There is a softness to his question, touched to have your safety and pleasure placed into his hands — but the flicker of heat behind his eyes does not go unnoticed either. Trust is important to San, more than anything else, and you can tell this does something to him on multiple levels, some of which have nothing to do with softness.
You give him a crooked grin. “Hey. Wouldn’t let you in the room with me if I didn’t.”
San rolls his eyes at your teasing, but his lips can’t help a happy, pleased grin. “Okay, yeah I’m in,” he says, anticipation deepening his voice as his gaze wanders over your body, your skin prickling wherever his eyes go. “I’ll ask Yunho if he’s alright with it too.”
Excitement flutters in your stomach at his intense look. Maybe these cardgames can wait a while longer before putting them away…
Just as you’re about to super subtly suggest to take a break, both of your phones suddenly buzz in quick succession. Must be Wooyoung, you think, sending you a selfie from work or something — but no, it’s not Wooyoung.
The text is from Yunho; he has added you, San and Wooyoung to a new groupchat so you can discuss a date together.
“Woah, he’s quick,” you say, taken aback by Yunho’s reliability on the follow-through. When he said he’d text tomorrow, you figured he meant that in the traditional ‘I fully intend to text tomorrow but I’ll probably forget and get back to you in like a week or so’-way.
“You know what? I’ll try calling him right now,” San says, getting up on his feet. “Ask him how he feels about surprising you.”
You bite your lip as San heads to the balcony to make his call; tempted to stop him so he can help you out with this unrelenting heat building up in your core. Damn, maybe the men in your life are a little too reliable on the follow-through.
Undoubtedly they’ll be one hell of a pair… and you’ll have no idea of their plans for you and Wooyoung.
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Wooyoung whistles lowly when you step into his and San’s bedroom, and he looks you over with an admiring grin. “Very nice,” he says, drinking in every detail of your sheer lace babydoll in the dimmed light. “Knew I made the right choice.”
The lace, a see-through deep purple, leaves very little to the imagination. Thin straps hold up the negligee, the cups snugly hugging your breasts. Wooyoung lingers on the plunging neckline, his fingers twitching when he notices how your nipples show through the lace. Then his eyes trail further down, to the skirt that barely covers your upper thighs.
You do a little twirl just for show; and it lifts the hemline even higher, giving Wooyoung an unobstructed glimpse of the matching panties underneath.
Usually you don’t fuss too much with lingerie, but it is a special occasion. Wooyoung even picked it out himself. He casually admitted a curiosity for seeing you dolled up in something sexy, after which you obviously had no other choice but to drag him into a store for some shopping.
(He’d been unexpectedly serious about the task, with not a single pervy comment during the whole shopping trip. Instead he perused the store with his brow deeply furrowed, committed to finding something that’d suit you perfectly — and that he did.)
“Now I get why you didn’t let me take a peek in the changing room,” Wooyoung hums, eyes dark. He steps in closer to run his hands over your sides, getting a feel of the textured lace. “Looks even better on you than it did on the rack. Well… the store rack.” He licks his lips, thumbs brushing against the underside of your breasts.
Ah, there are the pervy comments. “Lech,” you snort in amusement, but still push his hands down. San had clearly instructed you and Wooyoung to wait, and you’re not about to get into trouble just because Wooyoung can’t keep his hands to himself.
“What? I’m just being appreciative,” Wooyoung says with a wide grin, his fingers now playing with the bottom edge of the babydoll. “Don’t get to see you like this every day.”
“Hm, this isn’t a bad view either,” you admit, eyeing Wooyoung. He’s temptation itself, every inch of him seducing you to defy San’s instructions yourself.
He’s wearing black leather pants, the pair he only hoists himself into when he’s extra keen to impress, combined with an ivory white mesh shirt, oversized and clinging attractively to his shoulders. Usually Wooyoung wears another shirt underneath the mesh, but now only his tan skin peeks through the loosely woven threads. He even got a fresh haircut today — you’d been sceptical when he said he wanted ‘a mullet, kinda’, but now? Now you feel strongly compelled to write his hairdresser a passionate thankyou-note.
You didn’t think it was possible for Wooyoung to reach even higher levels of allure, but the way the long black strands curl against his neck, enough length left on the bangs to fall into his eyes… You haven’t been able to stop touching his hair all day, much to Wooyoung’s poorly-faked chagrin.
(He definitely has the worst poker face you’ve ever seen, constant smiles bullying their way onto his lips whenever you ‘nagged’ him to play with his hair.)
“So you still don’t know what’s gonna happen today, huh?” Wooyoung asks, a dangerous spark of mischief in his eyes.
“Well,” you say, tapping your bottom lip as though deep in thought, “I do have this nagging suspicion we might be having sex. Just an educated guess.”
Wooyoung lets out a breathy chuckle. His fingertips skim over your plush thighs. “Yeah. Maybe.” He runs his tongue over his teeth, looking you up-and-down like you’re a tasty morsel for his consumption. “Or maybe they’ll only let you watch. Sit back while they have their way with me.”
He tugs you a little closer, his mesh shirt brushing up against your lacy bodice. Is he trying to rile you up, or himself?
Your stomach clenches at the thought of only being a spectator. “San wouldn’t be that mean to me, that’s more his style with you,” you argue, but there is a flicker of doubt in your mind. San knows damn well how much you get out of a little voyeurism, so it’s not an impossibility. Often it’d be a source of excitement — but today you’re definitely aching for a little attention yourself.
Wooyoung ignores your objections, too caught up in his little fantasy. “Apparently Yunho is a big boy,” he breathes in your ear, raising goosebumps on your skin, “big everywhere. Sannie says I might not be able to handle him. Want to watch me prove him wrong, see how Yunho stretches me open with that monster cock?”
He giggles at your soft whine, your back involuntarily arching into him.
“Yeah, you’d like that,” Wooyoung murmurs, and presses a firm kiss on your neck. “But it’d be mean to neglect you completely, wouldn’t it? Maybe we should have some fun now, just to be sure.”
Your breath catches as his hands slip under your babydoll, squeezing the back of your thick thighs. His fingers graze against the edge of your panties, perilously close to where heat has started to pool between your legs.
“Wooyoung, no,” you say, reluctantly pushing back against his chest. “S-San told us to wait for him and Yunho.”
“Yeah, so? We can do stuff while we wait.”
Your exasperated laugh comes out as a moan when he nips at your earlobe. “Pff, come on Woo, that’s not what he meant and you know it!”
You make a noise of surprise when Wooyoung suddenly falls down to his knees. “Did he really?” Wooyoung purrs, dangerously, staring up at you with hunger burning in his eyes. “How do you know this isn’t part of today’s plan?”
Wooyoung does not give you time to think about it, pressing his face against your stomach and moaning in adoration of your curves. He mouths at your skin through the chemise, sucking at a soft stomach fold before he gives it a cheeky bite. Wooyoung has never made a secret of how much he loves your body, loves all the places he can sink his teeth into; he made that perfectly clear ever since the first time he laid his hands on you.
“F-fuck, Wooyoung…” you gasp. “I-is it? Part of their plan?”
Wooyoung just hums, continuing to worship you through the lace fabric. Nudging you to spread your legs, his mouth slowly travelling down.
It’s when his fingers brush against the damp spot on your panties that you snap back into reality. “Oh my god, it totally isn’t, right?” you laugh, tangling your fingers through his long hair to pull him away. “You’re just trying to get me into trouble, you pest!”
You playfully scold him, lightly smacking at his wandering hand.
Wooyoung pulls back reluctantly, not a trace of remorse in his wicked smile. “What can I say? Damned if I do, bored if I don’t,” he grins up at you. “But in my defence… it was part of the plan.”
He tilts his head to shoot a meaningful glance past you, at the bedroom door behind.
You turn around on reflex — and startle at the sight of San leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed, with Yunho towering right behind him.
“See? Told you,” San says to Yunho, a hint of smugness in his voice.
Yunho cocks his head as he studies the scene in front of him, interest shining in his eyes. “Yeah, you did,” he says, his gaze settling on you.
Both of them are dressed smartly, to the point of intimidating; San wears a crisp black dress shirt and black trousers to match. The top buttons of his shirt are opened, and a simple silver chain hangs around his neck with a small, rectangular tag that rests neatly on his bare chest. He’s rolling up his sleeves, drawing attention to his muscular forearms.
Yunho is also in black, decked out in a full suit. His slacks and fitted jacket have a subtle pinstripe that make him look even taller than he already is, with a dark tie and waistcoat underneath. Thick silver rings glitter on Yunho’s long fingers as he rubs his chin, his eyes burning into you.
“In front of the bed, Wooyoung. On your knees,” San orders sharply. “You had your fun, now it’s our turn.”
Wooyoung shoots you one last, brash grin. He pinches your thigh before he does as instructed, eager to let the others have their ‘fun’.
But San saunters over to you first. He has one hand stuffed in his pocket, running two fingertips over his bottom lip as he circles you, inspecting you almost casually.
“Pretty,” he finally says, coming to a stop right in front of you to rub the sheer fabric between his fingers. San’s arm flexes as he moves, his black shirt wrapped snugly around his biceps — and there is something maddening about the knowledge he needed to have it custom fitted, his shoulders too wide for most off-the-shelf dress shirts.
“Be nice to Yunho, hm?” he says, not even looking at your face, more interested in the generous exposure of cleavage. “Don’t think I won’t be keeping an eye on you just because Wooyoung’s got my cock down his throat. Best behaviour.”
“I will, Sannie,” you hum, a warm flutter in your chest at the hidden reassurance of him watching you. “I’ll behave.”
San pecks your cheek and walks past you to sit down on the bed in front of Wooyoung, legs spread as he runs his hand through Wooyoung’s long hair. Excitement sparks through you at the thought of what they’re about to do — but you’re distracted from the thought when a big, warm hand comes to rest on the small of your back.
“Come,” Yunho rasps by your ear, giving you a little push towards the bed. “Let’s get to know each other a little more.”
You follow meekly, hypnotised by the heavy gravitational pull of his aura, intense and shrouded in mystery. Everything about him is unknown, except that San trusts him implicitly; which means that you do too.
The dark sheets rustle as Yunho tugs you onto the bed with him, guiding you into his lap as he sits up against the headboard.
You settle on Yunho’s thighs, your heart thumping a little louder at the close proximity. You’ve only ever seen Yunho in casual clothes; and he’s already devastating enough like that, a walking personification of the ‘sweet boy next door’-vibe — but the fitted suit hits different.
There’s a cocky, pleased smile on Yunho’s lips at your blatant ogling. He strokes your cheek, his large palm easily cupping your face. A budding fire sparks to life under his touch, fuelled by the skitter of excited nerves at his undivided attention.
Behind you, you hear the faint wet noises of Wooyoung presumably sucking San off; San is groaning lowly, mumbling filthy encouragements to Wooyoung that you can’t quite make out. It’s more than a little distracting, your gaze threatening to drift towards them — until Yunho clasps your chin and guides you back, not as gentle as he could have been.
“Eyes on me,” Yunho warns, raising an eyebrow. He slowly rubs your leg, causing the skirt of your babydoll to bunch at your hips. “You can do that for me, can you?” His thumb digs into your inner thigh. “San told me you’re his good girl. That you listen well.”
You bite your lip at his intense gaze. The sounds behind you fade away into background noise, completely overpowered by the loudness of his thumb grazing against the lace of your panties. Your brain feels a little frazzled already.
“S-San treats me right,” you say, like you owe Yunho some kind of explanation.
Dark eyes pierce into you. “Oh? What if I don’t want to treat you right, though?” Yunho muses, reaching for your neck. “What if I want to tease you until you can’t take it anymore, and then a little more, just because I think you’ll look cute when you squirm and cry?” Ringed fingers drag over the delicate skin of your throat, like he’s testing the fit of his hand. “Would you still be good for me?”
Heat pulses through your blood, focused on where his hand rests. Your lips part to answer him, but all that comes out is a small whimper, your hips shifting in his lap through no choice of your own.
Yunho’s smile widens.
In the past, you’ve caught glimpses of something darker behind Yunho’s golden retriever brightness; but the sweet pup has now disappeared completely, leaving you face-to-face with a shadowed predator, hunger in his eyes. Ready to sink his claws into you.
“You don’t know?” he asks, tilting his head, a taunt hidden in the question. “Hm, you’re a little slow, aren’t you? Guess I’ll have to find out for myself. Let’s see if you can follow one simple instruction.”
“O-one?” You jolt when the nail of Yunho’s thumb scrapes over your panties, dangerously close to your clit.
“Just one,” Yunho hums. “San told me you like to watch him fuck Wooyoung and, well… clearly that’s true. But you’re all mine for now, and I want your full attention. You’re not allowed to look until my say-so, understand? I think you owe me that, for getting to play with them before I did.”
A flash of distress shoots through you at the thought of severing that visual line of connection with San, your trusted, familiar dominant. “But— But San—”
“I’m right here, baby,” San interrupts, his voice coming from right behind you, breath laboured. His hand brushes over the small of your back. “I’ll be here, the entire time. Told you I’d be keeping an eye out, didn’t I? Do as Yunho says.”
San’s firm tone wipes your mind blank, his order flooding through you with tingling warmth. Any illusion of control is gently taken from your hands; you are not in charge here.
“I won’t, promise,” you say, breathless already as your eyes catch Yunho’s, gleaming in dark approval. A pleasant floatiness starts to fill your head like cotton candy. “I won’t look.”
Yunho squeezes your thigh, taking in your show of submission like he’s searching for something. Whatever it is that he needs, Yunho seems to find it in the hazy smile spread across your face.
“Yeah. I’m going to kiss you now,” he says quietly, matter-of-fact; already knowing you will let him.
Despite his warning, your breath still hitches in surprise when Yunho leans forward and — instead of kissing your lips like you expected — his hot mouth presses against your neck. He cradles the back of your head, tongue darting out to taste your quickening pulse.
You whine and instinctively roll your hips into his lap, gasping a quiet “oh fuck” when you press against a sizeable bulge through Yunho’s slacks. The outline only gives you a suggestion of scale, but that is more than enough already; Wooyoung was not messing with you when he called Yunho a ‘big boy’.
Yunho huffs a laugh against your neck as you rock into him. “Needy girl,” he chides, but his hand on your thigh slides back to your ass, encouraging you to move as you please.
And what pleases you is urgency, swirling your hips in rapidly growing desperation. You moan against his mouth when Yunho’s lips finally meet yours in a series of hard, messy kisses, only spurring you on more. His cock twitches against your clothed cunt, and you’re struck with the daunting realisation that he’s not even fucking hard yet.
Behind you, Wooyoung whimpers loudly again, piercing through the fog — but this time you don’t turn around, kissing Yunho harder instead, sucking his tongue into your mouth. You grind into his lap with single-minded need, chasing sharp sparks of pleasure as Yunho matches your frantic rhythm.
Slowly, slick leaks through your panties and dirties his fancy slacks. All inhibitions gone, you push his jacket off his shoulders. Yunho temporarily breaks his hold on you to throw it aside, ignoring how the jacket lands on the floor. You fumble with his tie and the top buttons of his shirt, but eventually manage to reveal a smooth expanse of skin for you to run your hands over. Yunho groans at the touch, his head falling back.
Somewhere in a far distance you can still hear Wooyoung, his moans mingled with dirty wet squelches set in a fast, ruthless pace. You can’t help but respond to his whiny moans with your own, like a desperate call-and-answer between you, but you still don’t look away from Yunho.
“San was right,” Yunho says, eyes lidded as he smiles lazily at your resolve to obey his rule. “You are a good girl after all. So well-behaved for me, aren’t you?”
He delights at how you cry out when he grabs your waist, forcing you to stay in place. “Y-yeah, for you, only you…” you gasp, slumping in surrender of his strong grip.
“Then tell me,” he murmurs, hot breath fanning over your face, “which hole do you want my fingers to stretch out first?”
Something short-circuits in your brain at the word ‘first’. You whimper as Yunho nips at your bottom lip, gently tugging it with his teeth. The decision comes easily, driven by a desperate need for release. “Pussy, please Yunho, need you inside me…”
Yunho’s dark smile widens.
“Good,” he rasps, and boldly cups your clothed mound, “I’ve always wondered what’s so special about this pussy. Just one look at that needy hole and those two couldn’t stay away from you, could they? Always coming back for more until they couldn’t let go of you at all.”
He absent-mindedly toys with your sodden panties through his musings, rubbing his fingertips over your covered slit. You whine and arch your back, shuddering at the indirect contact.
“So sensitive,” Yunho grins. “This’ll be fun.” Finally he pulls the lace aside, and plunges his middle finger right in your drenched cunt.
Immediately Yunho sets a hard pace. He alternates between hard thrusts and delicious curls of his finger, quickly sliding in a second. The stretch has you keening; already you feel the difference between Yunho’s fingers with his thick rings compared to San or Wooyoung’s, hitting deeper inside your twitching cunt.
Yunho keeps your chin tilted up to ply your lips with languid kisses, intense and breathtaking; and a dizzying contrast with the ruthless slam of his wrist. You match his thrusts with shameless abandon, your loud moans almost enough to drown out the wet smacking sounds coming from San and Wooyoung behind you.
Your voice cracks on a strangled cry at a press of Yunho’s fingers against your g-spot, and he giggles at the discovery. “Yeah? That feels good right there?” he asks, his voice sweetly mocking as he hones in on the bundle of nerves. “Fuck, I was right; you do look cute when you squirm. Give me a little more, you can take it. Let’s get you nice and loose for me.”
Dizzy on the burn, you pant slack-jawed against Yunho’s mouth when he adds a third finger, your throbbing walls straining against the intrusion. Your toes curl with every brush of his thumb against your clit, warmth spreading through your body as the overwhelming barrage of sensations crashes over you. Your moans go up in pitch, thighs shaking — until suddenly Yunho’s fingers slow down, shifting away from that perfect angle.
“Poor thing, were you close?” Yunho coos when you sob at the receding high. Gently he strokes your hair, like he doesn’t know exactly what he’s doing to you. “So clumsy of me, not letting you cum. Here, let me make it up to you, hm? Yeah, that’s it.”
You arch into him with a needy whine when his free hand palms your breast, squeezing harshly. Yunho bends down to suck your nipple into his mouth, tongue flicking against the lace-covered bud. The textured fabric adds to the intensity of his attention, scraping over your skin as he sucks and bites at your tit, drenching the lace with his spittle.
He starts moving his fingers again, curling them in the exact way that had you trembling earlier, and this time he does not stop. You clutch onto his shoulders for dear life, whimpering helplessly as the sharp sparks of overstimulation set in. Your body is hypersensitive from the denial and Yunho gave you no time to come down from it, ruthlessly pushing you towards your limit.
“Too much,” you whine when a fourth finger prods at your entrance, its burn setting you aflame. “Fuck, Y-Yunho, I’m—hmn!— ‘s t-too much, ah ah ahh—”
Yunho releases your nipple from his mouth with a wet ‘pop’, looking up at you with dark, glimmering eyes. “Don’t give me that,” he chastises. “It’s not. Because when I asked San if you could handle this, he said you can. And we both know that he knows your body better than you do.” Yunho’s voice is low with a hardened edge. “So no. It’s not ‘too much’. Just be good and take one more.”
San. San said you can take it. Your brain is like mush, a dazed fog clouding your thoughts. You take it. Not your place to think about these things. It’s not too much. San said so.
You sink freely into the needling blend of pain and pleasure, surrendering yourself to it as you fuck yourself open on four of Yunho’s fingers. San was right; it’s not long before the pain fades, and the only burn left is that of pure bliss.
(There is rustling behind you, the bed sinking under added weight. San growls something inaudible, Wooyoung mewls wretchedly in response. You want to look. You don’t look.)
“See?” Yunho chuckles as you pant against his shoulder, shamelessly humping his hand. “You don’t know the first thing about what you need. Drooling on my shirt while that pretty pussy drools on my fingers. So fucking wet, what a desperate cunt you have. Fucking filthy.”
Your hips jerk when his thumb finds your clit again. The haze of pleasure coils into a tight wire, thrumming through your body. Your pace grows sloppier, erratic, but Yunho is right there, picking up the slack. His free hand kneads the nape of your neck while the other slams into you with rough snaps of his wrist. White-hot pleasure bursts in your core, flooding your system as you cry out hoarsely, your fingers clamping onto Yunho’s jacket as you clench around him with stuttered thrusts, tears brimming on your lashes.
Slowly you ride out the staggering waves, whining pitifully with every aftershock. You slump against Yunho’s chest, breathless and spent, but still moaning in dissatisfaction when his fingers slide out your cunt, stretched open beyond what you thought you could take.
Your head spins as you gasp for air — and though you and Yunho have stopped moving, the bed still creaks underneath you, with familiar whiny moans filling the bedroom. You don’t even think about it, can’t think, when you peek back over your shoulder.
Vision blurred from unshed tears, you just barely make out the forms of San and Wooyoung.
San is still mostly clothed, only his trousers undone and shirt halfway open, while Wooyoung is stark naked in contrast. San is hunched over him, grunting as he finger-fucks him hard, his free hand pinning Wooyoung’s thigh to hold him down as he jerks and cries out at the punishing pace.
He’s completely lost in the throes of pleasure, head thrown back and spine arching, his unpinned leg kicking out and spasming. His cock is hard and leaking on his stomach, his hand harshly smacked away when he reaches down for relief. San revels in his whines with a toothy grin… a grin that widens when he glances over and sees you looking at him.
“Oh baby, no.”
Your memory jolts back to life with a shock, eyes widening, but it’s too late.
A hand closes around your throat, silver rings digging into your skin, and you gasp as Yunho forces you to look at him. You whimper, fully expecting to see fury in his eyes — and are thrown completely off balance when Yunho is pouting cutely instead, an unnerving contrast to his rough hold on you.
“And you were doing so well,” he sighs. “Couldn’t help yourself, could you? What a little pervert you are, you really love watching them that much. What about me, hm?”
“I-I—” You stammer, blood rushing down your core you as his thumb slowly presses down on the side of your neck. “Yunho, ‘m so—”
Your breath goes wheezy at the pressure, all while Yunho stares you down with those big, beautiful eyes. His pout fades away, leaving nothing but cool disappointment. “I get jealous, you know,” he murmurs, leaning in to nose at your cheek, lips brushing against your jaw. “Don’t wanna share just yet. What’s a guy gotta do to keep your attention?”
You suck in a tight breath when Yunho smacks his other hand against your ass, and then again, warming the skin. You whine at every impact, reflexively arching into it. Needing more.
“Ah, so that gets your attention,” Yunho says, his eyebrows raising with interest. “You know what I think?” His fingers tighten around your neck ever so slightly. You feel dizzy, drowning in heat. “I think San has been too soft on you. A spoiled little cockslut like you gets to do whatever she wants around him, don’t you?”
You weakly shake your head ‘no’; a bald-faced lie. San is soft like whipped cream when it comes to you.
Predictably, Yunho doesn’t buy it for a second. His palm connects with your ass again, a little harder this time. “No? You really expect me to believe that?” Yunho scoffs. “I bet all it takes is one needy look from those pretty eyes and he’s right down on his knees for you.”
Wooyoung’s whines are suddenly replaced by a loud cackle of his laughter — but a smacking sound rings through the bedroom and he yelps sharply, giggling apologies to San.
San mumbles out a sulky, “Seriously, Yunho?” and you can’t help but choke out a giggle of your own. Even Yunho’s mask breaks for a split second, his cheeks lifting as he bites down a laugh.
The intense, heated atmosphere lifts for just a moment as Yunho’s grip on your throat relaxes. But the respite does not last long, his bright smile morphing into cool, mocking amusement as he looks you over.
“But I can’t let this slide,” Yunho says, smoothly putting things back on track. “You had one simple rule to follow, and you couldn’t even do that? What, did I fuck the sense out of you with just my fingers?”
You cry out when he slaps your cunt, taking a beat too long to respond for his liking.
“Well?”
“J-just felt too good, please please, Yunnie…” You weakly grasp at his rumpled shirt, fiddling with the few remaining buttons. “Didn’t mean to break the rule, I swear,” you babble, “made me feel so good, filling me up like that, I couldn’t think…”
They’re exactly the kind of pleas that would appeal to the soft gooey center hidden underneath San’s hard dominant exterior — but Yunho is unimpressed, raising an eyebrow as he watches you clumsily undo the rest of his shirt. “Couldn’t help yourself from being a dirty voyeur, is that it?”
“Y-yeah,” you pout at him. “Didn’t mean to, Yunho, please…”
He tsks. “So it’s that easy to fuck you dumb, huh? Came just once and already your head is wiped clean. Fine, if you can’t follow orders on your own,” He slides his dishevelled tie from his neck with a sharp snap of fabric, “then I’ll have to make you.”
You moan weakly when Yunho covers your eyes with his tie as an improvised blindfold, the world going dark. Your heart beats in your throat at the absence of one of your senses, while the others intensify; the heady smell of sex in the bedroom, Yunho’s arms brushing against the sides of your head. (San’s grunts, Wooyoung sobbing out his name in growing desperation. Just from the sound, you can tell he is close.)
“It’s not too tight?” Yunho checks in after he ties the knot, giving the nape of your neck an unexpectedly gentle squeeze.
You shake your head. “No, no it’s good.”
“Good,” Yunho echoes lowly. “Take your panties off.”
Seated on your knees in Yunho’s lap, with no sight to guide you, you’re forced into an awkward shuffle to slip out of the ruined lace. Yunho doesn’t lift a hand to help you — but eventually you manage to discard the panties and settle back into Yunho’s lap. You can only imagine how your cunt must be making a mess of his slacks, slick leaking into his crotch.
Your breath hitches in surprise when Yunho’s hands suddenly run up your sides, dragging along the sheer fabric of your babydoll. He makes a noise of approval when you raise your arms without a verbal prompt, and he takes off the lingerie while careful to keep the improvised blindfold in place.
Yunho’s tie is now the only scrap of fabric on you. You shudder when his hands run over bare skin, feeling exposed, unable to see his face as he takes in your nude form for the first time. But insecurity gets no chance to grab hold, not when his exploration of your body is eager and impassioned. He maps out your shape with rough squeezes, fingers digging into soft flesh, like his eyes alone can’t fully appreciate the sight of you.
“Fucking gorgeous,” he groans, and you jolt at an unexpected open-mouthed kiss on your shoulder. He huffs a laugh at your surprise, raising goosebumps as his hot breath falls against the wet patch he sucked into your skin. “Now, let’s see if this next instruction is easier for you to follow. Touch my cock. Show me you’re a good girl after all.”
You obey with almost embarrassing swiftness, blindly seeking out the bulge in his crotch with your hand. It’s an easy target to find. You start to rub Yunho through his dirtied slacks — but Yunho tuts, his teeth nipping at your shoulder in admonishment. “Not like that. Touch it.”
You hesitate for a moment, but your head has cleared enough that it does not take long to catch his meaning. It takes you a little longer to fumble with the button and zipper of his trousers, but then you’re able to tug them and the waistband of his underwear down. Satisfaction coils in your abdomen at Yunho’s moaned sigh when your fingers wrap around him. With slow strokes, you finally get a proper feel of what he’s packing, and a heated rush of gratitude shoots through you for how thoroughly Yunho stretched you open. Fuck.
He’s warm under your touch, but also a little dry. You raise up a hand to your mouth, tongue darting out to messily slather your palm and fingers with saliva. Spit smears over your chin, but you don’t care. Yunho does care, hissing a swear under his breath.
“Fuck, you’re a nasty little thing,” he mutters appreciatively, grabbing your wrist to guide you back to his cock. “Both hands now, baby. Yeah, just like that. There’s a sweet girl.”
You can’t even make your fingers meet, using one hand to slide up and down his length while focusing on the tip with the other. Even without seeing it, the thought of that fat cockhead pressing inside you is both daunting and mouth-watering. Yunho lets out a deep groan as you twist your fist and you hone in on the motion, licking your lips when his cock twitches in your hands.
His breath picks up as you jerk him off, and you’re itching to tear away the blindfold, wanting to see how his face contorts in pleasure at your hands. Images flit through your head, of his heavy lidded eyes as he bites his lip, a pretty flush creeping up his neck.
Your pace falters for a moment when suddenly Yunho’s large hands press into your thighs, his thumbs slowly inching inward. One of his thumbs parts your sticky lower lips, the other teases just above your clit. Whining, you cant your hips into him, expecting Yunho to withdraw — and so you gasp in surprise when he actually obliges you, pressing his thumb firmly against the sensitive nub.
You moan in gratitude, moving your hand quicker. “P-please, Yunho…” you whine, tilting your head forward in search of his lips, shamelessly needy.
“So eager,” Yunho giggles, noses bumping into each other as he meets your lips for a clumsy kiss. “Such a sweet thing when you just listen. That’s all you need to do for me. Don’t think, just sit there and show me what an obedient little toy you are. So good to me.”
Even blindfolded, the world spins dizzingly around you. Yunho’s thumb rubs sharp sparks of electricity through your swollen clit, and you can barely parse what he’s saying. Just enough to know you are being good, and that’s all your addled mind needs, the praise swelling hotly in your chest.
You whine, just the touch of Yunho’s cock in your hands not enough. You ache to see him, taste him, hear the wet squelch of him filling up your empty, stretched cunt.
“God, you’re so fucking cute when you’re desperate,” Yunho mumbles against your mouth, teeth grazing your bottom lip. “It really is a damn shame, I was gonna let you watch San make a mess of Wooyoung’s pretty tits, but no, you just had to get greedy. Oh, I know, sweetheart, I know,” he laughs breathlessly at your distressed whine, his thumb on your clit replaced by two fingers, teasing at your entrance. “But at least you still get to listen in on the fun. Lucky for you, Wooyoung can’t keep quiet even if he tried.”
“Could gag him,” San interjects from behind, a cocky grin folded into the suggestion. Wooyoung makes a wet, garbled noise that summons visions of his mouth stuffed with San’s fingers.
Yunho giggles darkly at the suggestion. “What’s this mean streak all of a sudden, San-ah? Trying to prove you’re not such a softie after all?”
“Don’t got a thing to prove, just ask Wooyoung,” San grunts, a sharp smack of skin on skin sounding through the bedroom, followed by a ragged gasp for air. “’Youngie, am I being soft on you?”
Wooyoung’s voice comes out hoarse. “Ngh, please, wanna cum… Sannie…”
Another smack fills the air, followed by a loud whimper as the mattress bounces underneath you. “Answer the question, Woo.”
“Mhn n-no —ah!— no! ‘S being mean, please please—” he whines, his mindless babbling searing through you.
Yunho giggles again, casually, like he isn’t sliding three fingers deep into your needy cunt. He holds them still, simply buried inside you. “Fuck, look at that mess, he’s just eating this up, isn’t he?” Yunho says, enjoying the view he’s so cruelly denying you. “What a fucking wreck. Could make him lick the dust off your boots and he’d be panting like a dog.”
Wooyoung’s whines rise in volume and pitch, dripping with blissful agony — until the noise is suddenly smothered. But San can’t silence him completely, and you quietly whine along with Wooyoung, starting to feel neglected as you gently swivel your hips to try and find some friction against Yunho’s fingers.
Instantly Yunho’s other hand connects with your ass, hard, his silver rings adding an extra bite to the impact. The pain is heavenly.
“See?” he chides, roughly groping at the sore spot as you squirm in his lap. “Not so fun when the person you’re fucking won’t pay attention to you, is it?”
You moan something that tries to be an apology but Yunho’s fingers slowly curl inside your aching cunt. He presses right against your g-spot, sending your every nerve ending on high alert, only making your body beg for more. You whine at his teasing, blindly clutching at his unbuttoned shirt in silent plea.
“Aw, there’s no need to pout,” Yunho says, that deceptive sweetness seeping back into his voice. “You’re doing so well, sweetheart, we can have some fun too. Let’s play a little game. If you can make me cum before San, then I’ll let you watch him.”
Acutely aware of San’s low groans and Wooyoung’s muffled sobs, you perk up at the opportunity. “Th-then, can I suck you off? Please?”
Yunho’s cock twitches in your hands. “Fuck, baby. I can see why San likes to spoil you so much, asking so nicely,” he grunts, filling your head with a fuzzy heat as his fingers stroke against your sweet spot. “Does your throat take cock well, pretty girl? Would you choke on it for me?”
“Yes, y-yes please, Yunho please—”
Still blindfolded, you welcome Yunho’s assistance as he helps you to settle between his thighs. Your legs are folded underneath you, your chest resting on your knees as you bend down, ass perked up. Your breath catches when Yunho’s hand returns to your throat, guiding you until something hot and sticky bumps against your cheek. Your tongue darts out, and you moan in satisfaction at the salty tang of precum.
His cockhead slides past your lips, where your mouth confirms what your hands already suspected; he is thicker than San, and every added strain to your jaw is felt at this size.
You moan at the heft of him on your tongue, taking his cock as deep as you comfortably can for the first pass. Without sight, it’s hard to judge how much of him fits in your mouth, but you try not to overthink it, simply easing yourself into a rhythm.
Yunho’s soft sighs and hissed curses burn through you, the sound mingled with Wooyoung’s muffled noises. San’s attempts to silence his moans do very little to make them less enticing, desperation dripping off every smothered whine. Still, you slowly forget the goal behind this game, distracted by the satisfying challenge of sucking Yunho off.
You take him a little deeper with every bob of your head, your hand covering what your mouth can’t manage. “A little more,” Yunho murmurs in heated encouragement. “You want me to cum, don’t you? Then work for it.”
Breathing becomes a challenge when the tip of him breaches your throat, your pharynx instinctively contracting at the intrusion. Yunho groans, his fingers tensing around your throat when you gag on his cock with a wet, lewd noise.
You faintly register a shuffling sound, weight shifting as Yunho repositions himself — and suddenly there’s an odd pressure between your thighs. Drool leaks past your stretched lips as you make a garbled noise of surprise. The ball of Yunho’s foot is pressed right against your core. He holds it still there, almost like an offer.
Experimentally, you swivel your hips into his foot. Pleasure bursts through your veins, a trickle of drool spilling down your chin as you moan at the much-needed friction. You’d been pretty worked up by Yunho earlier, and it doesn’t take much to get you back to that high. He groans at how you’re shamelessly humping against him, and he grinds the ball of his foot back into you, only spurring you on more. Your control slips away, eyes tearing up as you gag and choke on Yunho’s cock over and over again.
“F-fuck, hang on baby. Want you to look at me while I fuck that pretty mouth,” Yunho says tightly, shaky fingers releasing the tie covering your vision.
You blink away bleary tears as the dimmed bedroom light hits your eyes. Yunho throws the tie aside and cups your stuffed face, thumbs catching the tears streaming down your cheek. You glance up, moaning loudly when you see Yunho’s face.
Somehow, he looks almost exactly like you pictured him — but at the same time, the sight of him is a pale imitation of your fantasies at best. A deep flush colours his neck and ears, beautiful eyes blown and heavy-lidded, bottom lip swollen from the way he gnaws at it.
“There, that’s better,” he says, a lopsided smile gracing his lips. “Don’t wanna miss that needy look on your face. Just hit my thigh if you have to tap out, alright?”
You moan in confirmation, then Yunho puts a large hand on the back of your head, pushing himself deeper down your throat. His other hand comes to rest on your throat again, right underneath your jaw. He groans in satisfaction when the light squeeze of his fingers meets his cockhead at the back of your throat, your walls spasming around him.
Quickly Yunho sets a rough pace — rough, but still controlled; he pushes at your limits, always testing them, but never too far beyond how deep you took him before. The ball of his foot pushes against your cunt again, and you let out a garbled, wet moan at the sharply building pressure, spittle and precum forced past your lips with every obscenely loud gag of your throat.
“Oh fuck, this won’t take long,” Yunho grunts tightly. “Doing so well, what a good cocksleeve you are.”
You keen around him, light-headed from both your partially obstructed airways and his breathless praise. He’s too generous, you think; you can now see the neglected part of his dick, unwarmed by your mouth. You ache to feel him stretch out your cunt, longing to prove no inch of him will be neglected there.
But Yunho clearly does not mind. His face is contorted with sweet agony, breath picking up as he throbs in your mouth. He curses under his breath when you grind back against his foot, his jaw falling slack like your mindless rutting is getting him off as much as your warm, willing mouth is. You whimper as the coiling heat inside your abdomen overflows into intense release, flooding your system with piercing surges of pleasure, going limb in Yunho’s hold as you shake and tremble. It’s too much for him. With beautiful, ragged moans, Yunho tenses as he spills hotly down your throat, thick ropes of cum that almost make you choke all over again.
The tears prickling behind your eyes go sharp, and you give Yunho’s thigh two quick taps of your hand.
Immediately his hold on you relaxes, allowing you a dizzying pull for air as his cock slides out. You don’t let him go too far, holding him at the base while you kiss at the tip, smearing your lips with a white sheen.
“God, you’re too much,” Yunho groans, his softening cock twitching under your attentions. “C’mon, you earned your reward. Just in time to watch the end of the show.”
Yunho helps you to sit up, gathering you in his arms. First he sweetly sucks at your lips, his tongue swiping them clean of his cum, then he lets you rest against his flushed chest, rubbing a soothing hand over your back. Your jaw feels a bit sore, but you tiredly nuzzle into Yunho with a satisfied sigh, pressing a soft kiss on his sternum. He lets out a breathy laugh at the gesture, almost a little flustered.
Only then do you turn your head to look and San and Wooyoung, and this time there is no punishment; only a glorious reward.
The buttons of San’s dress shirt are completely undone — a few of them torn straight off. He has Wooyoung’s ankles thrown over one shoulder, fucking his thighs with hard thrusts, a hand splayed over Wooyoung’s mouth. San’s teeth are gritted, his tight dress shirt doing nothing to hide how his muscles flex with every slam of his pelvis against the back of Wooyoung’s legs. The wet smacking noise of San’s cock pushing between supple thighs easily overpowers Wooyoung’s weak whimpers, an angry flush to the glistening tip.
Wooyoung keens louder when he realises they have an audience, squirming against San’s hold. His cock slaps against his stomach in time with San’s thrusts, covered with crusted, dried cum. You can only guess at who came already, both of them hard and desperate.
“You can stop holding back now, San,” Yunho teases him. “She took her punishment like a good girl, just like you said she’d be. Her pretty eyes are on you now. Give her something good to look at, hm?”
San jerks his head to look at you, something wild and primal burning in his gaze. To think of his aggressive rut as ‘holding back’ feels impossible… yet he proves Yunho right all the same.
San’s hand lets go of Wooyoung’s mouth, who whines loudly when he’s released. His face is red and puffy and wet; and he sobs harder when San angles himself lower so his cock slides against Wooyoung’s with every thrust. Overwhelmed, Wooyoung’s eyes squeeze shut — but they snap back open with a cry when San harshly spanks his outer thigh.
“Look at her, Woo,” San grinds out. “Show her what a desperate wreck you are.”
Wooyoung hiccups, shakily wiping his face as he meets your eyes. The thick tears spilling down his shiny cheeks are mesmerising, causing a warmth to brew underneath your exhaustion. The heat is further stoked by Yunho’s long fingers kneading into your own thighs, like he’s contemplating the thick softness of them pressed around his own cock.
“Tell her what you want, Wooyoung,” San demands, the bed shaking underneath as he speeds up.
“W-wanna cum, mhn, need to cum so bad—”
Another smack lands on his thigh and Wooyoung cries out, his back arching pitifully. San scoffs at his whines. “Is that all? Our girl choked on Yunho’s dick so she could watch you, and that’s how you thank her? Thinking only about yourself?”
Wooyoung makes a strangled noise as he shakes his head, unable to get a word out.
“C’mon, we both know how much you get off on slutting yourself out like this,” San presses, relentless. “You fucking love it, love how much she loves it. How good you look like this, a depraved, flushed mess. Fucking gorgeous.”
The sudden praise jolts through Wooyoung, his fingers clawing at the sheets. “Y-yeah, that’s what I want—” he slurs, his tongue thick in his mouth. His long hair is sweaty and sticks to his face, throwing a shadow over his eyes as he pins his gaze back on you. “Want you to see, want you to watch me cum please, please—”
“I’m watching, Wooyoungie,” you say. You’re filled with something not unlike awe as you drink in his desperation, his unconditional surrender as he loses himself in the search of pleasure. “Watching everything San’s doing to you. So pretty.”
Right as you say that word, pretty, San smacks Wooyoung’s flushed cock. He sobs wretchedly, convulsing as the sudden pain sparks through his crossed wires. The first globule of sticky whiteness already forms at the tip before San wraps his fist around the darkened cockhead, forcing Wooyoung into a violent release. He mewls and spasms, jerking against San’s hold — but San doesn’t let up until his own breath falters, breaking on a whiny moan as he spills over Wooyoung’s thighs and still-leaking cock.
San slowly lets Wooyoung’s shaky legs down, ankles sliding from his shoulder. He’s panting hard, a sharp glint in his eyes as he admires the mess on Wooyoung’s torso, who basks in the attention of three pairs of eyes on him.
He stares up at San with a blissed-out, empty-headed smile, “So good… made me feel so good…”
Fondly, San chuckles and cups Wooyoung’s cheek.“You haven’t had enough yet, have you?” he hums, rubbing his thumb over Wooyoung’s swollen lips. “Yunho’s been looking forward to having his turn with you.”
Wooyoung nips at San’s thumb and grabs his wrist, his dark eyes glittering at Yunho as he presses a kiss against the palm of San’s hand. Anticipation crackles in the heady air, Wooyoung’s hungry gaze answering San’s question loud and clear. Never enough.
There is a brief moment of shuffling as San and Yunho swap places, but Yunho kisses the side of your head before he goes. “We’re not done yet, sweetheart,” he murmurs in your ear. “Don’t think I’m satisfied with just my fingers in that tight hole.”
Your stretched cunt clenches around nothing at the promise, but you’re not empty for long. As soon as Yunho leaves your side, San embraces you in the comfort of his strong, familiar arms.
“Come, let’s cuddle,” he mumbles, pulling you on top of him as he lays on his back.
You let San manoeuvre you to his liking, knowing better than to object against resting your weight on him. You snuggle up against San, savouring the low, content rumble in his exposed, sweaty chest.
Both of you are a bit sluggish, but San still nudges you to lift your hips before you can settle entirely. He wraps his hand around the base of his softened cock, and you moan quietly when he presses into your waiting cunt. “Fuck, Yunho opened you up real nice,” he groans at the easy slide. “So fucking wet, baby. Just keep me warm like that for a while, ‘lright?”
With a gentle hand he strokes your hair, and you relax into him with a sigh.
San’s heart beats underneath your cheek as you turn your head to see Yunho has half-helped, half-dragged Wooyoung to lay parallel to you and San. Now he slowly crawls over Wooyoung’s prone body, drawing whines from him with even the lightest touch. Wooyoung shudders when Yunho scoops up some of the white fluids on his heaving chest, then offers it to him. He sucks on Yunho’s fingers on pure instinct, not a single thought behind his dazed eyes.
Maybe Yunho had a point when he called you a pervert earlier; your inner voyeur purrs at the meals she’s being fed tonight.
But it’s a badge you wear proudly, indulging yourself without shame. Your hungry eyes take in the way Yunho’s tall form is hunched over Wooyoung. The stark difference in their height makes Wooyoung look small, helpless, moaning at every drop of his and San’s seed that Yunho feeds him. You lick your lips every time Yunho’s fingers slip back into Wooyoung’s mouth.
Meanwhile, San runs a warm hand up and down your spine. His fingertips leave gentle sparks wherever they go. “Woo looks good like this, doesn’t he?” he says, a grin in his voice. “Can’t wait to see if our babygirl really has what it takes to handle that big cock, or if it’s just empty bragging. Yunho’s not gonna take it easy on him.”
(Wooyoung whines a little louder, his hips canting up.)
Carefully, San squeezes the nape of your neck. “Yunho didn’t take it easy on you either,” he hums, his fingers brushing over the sensitive parts of your throat where Yunho choked you earlier. “You made such pretty sounds for him… Did you have fun, hm?”
San’s gentle voice envelopes you with warmth, though it’s hard to focus on his question when Yunho curls his long fingers over Wooyoung’s thighs, the shapely muscles glistening with lube and cum.
“Yeah,” you manage to sigh out with a dopey smile. “Thank you… for holding back for me.”
You rub your cheek against his firm pec in gratitude; and you can feel as well as hear San’s abashed chuckle.
“Thought you deserved a proper reward. Did your punishment so well, what a sweet girl you were for him,” he says proudly. His praise sends a twitch through your cunt, and he lets out another breathy laugh as you clench around his cock. “So easy to work you up…” he teases fondly.
You whine, but there’s no denying the fresh slick leaking against San’s pelvis. It really can’t be helped; not when San is praising you, when Yunho pushes Wooyoung’s knees up to his chest, folding him in half. He spreads Wooyoung’s asscheeks, a pleased glint in his eyes at what he finds.
“Prepped him for you, Yun-ah,” San says, his own hands mirroring Yunho’s as he grabs at your ass, his thumb grazing over your rim. He pecks your forehead sweetly, whispering “Your turn soon.”
“Fuck, San, you sure did, he’s fucking gaping,” Yunho groans, and he turns Wooyoung at just enough of an angle to show you his loosened hole, remnants of lube glistening between his cheeks. Arousal smoulders under your skin at the brief glimpse, inflamed further when Yunho slides his half-hard cock through the crack of Wooyoung’s ass.
“Please,” Wooyoung keens, hooking his arms underneath his knees to keep his legs in place while he squirms at Yunho’s fat cockhead catching on the edge. “Please just put it in, please please—”
Yunho giggles at his impatience. “Ah San, you really got lucky, getting your hands on a pair of such cute playthings,” he says, squeezing Wooyoung’s ass. “I haven’t even lubed up yet — you so eager you’d take it dry, Woo? Don’t think that’s smart, even for a trained cocksleeve like you. Be good and wait a little longer, ‘m gonna need a second to recover from your girl’s pretty mouth.”
“Y-yeah, I get that,” Wooyoung says tightly, glancing at you with watery eyes.
Yunho grins. “I bet you do. Does she suck your dick often?”
“Wooyoungie’d rather drown in her pussy, actually,” San interjects casually, giving you a buck of his hips. “If anyone’s fucking that tight throat, it’s usually me.”
You whine as you get jostled, clutching onto San’s shoulders. Light-headed at how they’re talking about you like you’re just some toy for them to play with, passed around for their pleasure.
Yunho bites his lip, grinding a little harder against Wooyoung. “At the same time?”
San lets out a pleased hum. “Sometimes, yeah,” he says, and tips your chin up with his thumb and forefinger to meet his grin. “Remember last weekend, baby? Looked so pretty sitting on Wooyoung’s face while I fucked yours. Fuck, you were so noisy… made such a mess on him…”
Your nerve-endings ignite with pleasure at San’s reminder; your garbled moans around San’s cock while Wooyoung sucked the juices from your leaking cunt, even his nose covered with the shine of your slick after you finally pulled him away. You’re so lost in a daze that you almost miss it when Yunho asks you a question.
Did you like it?
Yunho huffs a quiet laugh at your noise of disorientation. “Did you like it, baby?” he repeats, slower this time; with the charitable patience one might have for a pet that’s cute, but not all that smart. “When Wooyoung eats you out? Is he any good, sweetheart?”
Your eyes trail up Wooyoung’s body, noting the veins bulging in his flexed forearms, still dutifully holding his legs in place. When you reach his face, he is staring right back at you, mouth fallen open and his long hair in a mess, strewn on the bed, a few sweaty strands clinging to his neck.
“The best,” you sigh sweetly.
The ‘o’ of Wooyoung’s lips stretches into a wide, fucked out smile, moaning out a breathless giggle as he preens at your answer.
“High praise,” Yunho says with a teasing glint in his eyes. He grabs for the bottle of lube that San left on the bed earlier and pops the cap. “He must’ve got one hell of a silver tongue to have earned that.”
You can’t help a moan, your clit throbbing with memories of Wooyoung’s tongue flicking and suckling at you, dissolving you into a puddle.
“She likes his nose too,” San chuckles, adding more fuel to the fire. He steadily kneads at your ass, giving it the occasional smack just to admire the bounce of his hand and the jiggle of your cheeks. “Don’t you, baby?”
“F-fuck, so much,” you whine. “Feels s-so good, riding his face… Grinding on it…”
Wooyoung suddenly trembles and gasps while Yunho runs a glistening finger down that beautifully hooked slope of his nose. It only takes you a beat to realise his strong reaction is not just because of the downpouring of praise — Yunho has forced the tip of his cock past Wooyoung’s rim.
“Ah ah ah—!”
The sound is torn from Wooyoung’s throat as his body snaps taut. His legs almost drop to the side before Yunho grabs onto his thighs, large hands kneading into the tense muscles. “Fuck,” Yunho swears, jaw clenched. “Relax for me, Woo. I’ll take it slow but— fuck.”
Wooyoung pants with hard, huffy breaths, his eyes rolling back as he struggles to take the sudden intrusion. It’s subtle, but San’s hold on you tenses for a moment, until Wooyoung’s voice breaks with an obscenely loud moan, leaving no mistake that the tears springing in his eyes are the right kind.
San relaxes again, his soft amused laugh rumbling through his chest. “Time to see if our size queen has bitten off more than he can chew,” he says; a taunt mixed with genuine fascination. “…And time for us to move on too.”
Unable to look away, your eyes are glued to Wooyoung’s face, contorted with agonised pleasure, and the slow press of Yunho’s hips, giving Wooyoung time to adjust. The idea of taking Yunho in your cunt is already daunting enough, you can’t begin to comprehend the ways Wooyoung’s body is forced to stretch and yield to his outrageous size.
Utterly transfixed, you barely register how San grabs for the lube and slicks up his own fingers — but you’re snapped back into your own reality when his index finger circles your tight hole, and quickly presses in. You moan at the slight pressure on your walls; not uncomfortable but always a little odd at the start.
Meanwhile Yunho groans tightly, a thick vein protruding in his neck from the effort of holding back. “Fuck, Sannie, you weren’t kidding about his recovery time,” he grinds out, a sharp curve to his lips. “I’m barely even inside him yet and he’s getting hard again already.”
Wooyoung whines pathetically, clawing at Yunho’s thighs like he’s trying to pull him in deeper.
“Please, hah mmh, please please,” he babbles, all coherent thoughts wiped from his mind. Yunho bends over him as he pushes deeper, and Wooyoung looks tiny underneath his tall frame, sobbing with delirious pleasure.
Lazily San fingers your ass open while you watch them together, his eyes big and shiny, gleaming with curiosity. Your body is pliant and relaxed for him, the thickness of two fingers a breeze in comparison. Awestruck, you witness how Yunho finally bottoms out.
Wooyoung hiccups as he tries to catch his breath, whimpering when Yunho wipes sweaty strands of hair out of his face.
“Fuck, you’re amazing,” Yunho murmurs, with none of his earlier faked sweetness. “What a champ. Not many who can take me like this, fucking incredible. Ready for me to fuck you, or do you need a moment?”
“M-move, please fuck please,” Wooyoung pleads. “Moving is better, please, hmgh—”
Slowly Yunho starts to move — and you can’t help but instinctively match his pace, squirming against San. His cock twitches in your warm cunt, almost back to full hardness already. He groans softly by your ear, smoothly pushing a third finger inside your other hole.
Soon, the noise of skin slapping against skin fills the bedroom every time Yunho buries himself to the hilt, lewdly harmonising with Wooyoung’s hitched moans. Yunho’s fingers dig harshly into his thighs to keep him in place, and you salivate at the thought of kissing Wooyoung’s resulting bruises later.
The harder Yunho fucks him, the more you hump into San, leaking around his cock. He bites down a whine, using his free hand to hold you steady. “Careful baby,” he says hoarsely, “I don’t know how many more I got in me. Let me save it for later, alright?”
Reluctantly you stop moving, targeting San with a small, needy pout instead.
He chuckles fondly, promising it’ll pay off later — but your further pouting is interrupted when Wooyoung’s moans suddenly rise in pitch.
Your eyes snap back to the others, where you see Yunho has hooked Wooyoung’s leg around his waist. This way, he’s given you full view of Wooyoung’s cock, flushed a deep dark red and oozing precum. Unintelligible curses and butchered gasps of Yunho’s name tumble clumsily off Wooyoung’s tongue, until no sound leaves his lips at all. His mouth is caught in a silent cry when Yunho bucks into him at an angle, and then again, his entire body shaking as watery strings of cum soil his stomach all over again.
Yunho only needs a few more thrusts himself before he doubles over with a loud grunt, moaning sweetly as he rides it out until he stills inside Wooyoung, hunched over his smaller form.
Burning gratitude coils in your abdomen when Yunho angles them again so you can see how Wooyoung’s hole is obscenely stretched around Yunho’s big cock. It leaves him gaping open when Yunho slowly pulls out, cum bubbling at the rim and leaking down onto the bed.
Wooyoung makes a weak noise at the emptiness, but Yunho wipes up the dribble of cum with his fingers and stuffs them back inside. Then he turns to San, wordlessly holding out his free hand.
You frown in confusion, but San seems to know exactly what Yunho is asking for. He reaches for something that’d been set aside unnoticed; and you bite your lip with a quiet moan when you realise he’s grabbed a thick buttplug. He hands it over to Yunho, who gives the toy a liberal coat of lube, then easily slides inside Wooyoung.
Wooyoung moans contently at the effortless fit, and barely fusses when Yunho helps him into a sitting position against the bed’s headboard. Wooyoung lets his head fall back, covered all over in the shine of sweat and other bodily fluids. He’s still breathing heavily, eyes lidded as he watches with exhausted interest how San guides you to get up as well, his cock sliding out of your cunt. And when San instructs you to sit on Wooyoung’s lap, you obey eagerly.
As you settle in Wooyoung’s lap, you make sure not to press your stomach against his dick. “You… that was… woah,” you sigh in admiration, gently combing your fingers through a tangle in his mussed up hair. “You’re incredible, you know that?”
He just gives you a breathless giggle, too fucked out for a verbal response — a rarity. The air between you is giddy, like you’re both high on the pleasure of having your bodies pushed to their limits. But he seeks out your pussy with his fingers, four of them effortlessly pressing inside. His own silent admiration of how Yunho stretched you out too.
You grin teasingly at Wooyoung’s ruined state, pressing a light peck on the tip of his nose. “You done for tonight? You kinda look like you might be done for tonight.”
“Fuck… definitely gonna need a minute,” Wooyoung groans, but you feel the smile on his lips when he tilts his head to catch you in a kiss. It’s a tired, heady meeting of lips, closer to an exchange of breath than an actual kiss, but you savour it all the same.
“Take your time, Wooyoung,” San assures him, interrupting the moment of affection to make sure you both drink something.
He grabs a bottle of water from the bedside table that he’d readied beforehand with liquids, a few snacks, wet wipes, all the usuals — but instead of handing you the bottle, San clasps your jaw, gently coercing your lips to part.
San pours a generous sip straight from the bottle into your mouth, careful not to spill. Your head buzzes at his tender yet forceful care, glowing with a syrupy warmth when he pats your cheek in approval after you swallow the water down.
He gives Wooyoung the same treatment, until he’s satisfied you both drank enough. He asks if either of you need anything else, and bursts into a flustered, dimpled laugh when the unanimous answer is “you finally taking the rest of those clothes off.”
He obliges, of course, shucking off his dress shirt with the ripped buttons and throwing it aside, soon followed by the rest. Tan skin and firm muscle, his cock still hard from earlier. San can’t help a tiny, flustered smile when you and Wooyoung lavish him with tired attention, nipping at the corded muscle of his shoulder, palming at the swell of his tits. Your hands bump into each other when you both reach for San’s cock, leading to another shared, giddy laugh.
You glance at Yunho, wondering if he is amenable to obliging you as well — and see he’s been discreetly cleaning himself up while San took care of you and Wooyoung. Yunho lets out a little embarrassed laugh when he realises you’re watching him wipe his softened dick. But you’re not laughing anymore, remembering his words from before.
“Don’t think I’m satisfied with just my fingers in that tight hole.”
You swallow tightly, biting your lip in anticipation.
Seeing your reaction, Yunho’s embarrassment quickly fades into a slow smile. Even without your asking, he treats you to the unhurried discarding of his clothes; not built like a brick wall the way San is, but fit and lean, moving his long limbs with a controlled grace that sparks a flutter in your stomach.
He crawls back onto the bed to join you and the others, and you hum a soft moan as his chest presses against your back, arms encircling your waist. Four fingers slip back inside you and Yunho gives them a careful wiggle, like he’s checking if you’re still ready for him.
You gasp at the tight press of Yunho’s fingers with their thick rings, your head falling back on his shoulder.
Just like that, the quiet lull in the bedroom dissipates, replaced by the wet squelch of Yunho slowly sliding his long fingers in and out of your sopping hole, coaxing your body to remember the stretch of them. A whine falls past your lips while San and Wooyoung watch in rapt attention, their eyes burning into you.
Wooyoung’s dark gaze is pinned on the heave of your chest as you gyrate in his lap, rolling your hips into Yunho’s hand, pushing back into his cock. Yunho surges forward with a groan, mouthing at your neck while he grinds against your ass. You whimper when Wooyoung bends forward to latch onto a pert nipple, licking thick, hot stripes as he laps at your tits.
San takes it all in with a light flush on his cheeks, unable to look away from your stuffed cunt. It’s obscene how easily Yunho’s fingers fit now, wet and slippery. “Fuck, Yunho, I bet you could fit your whole fist in there if we really took our time with her,” San groans softly, nothing but awe dripping from his voice.
You sob desperately at the idea, clenching around Yunho — but underneath the excitement, there is a weak jolt of anxiety. Your weeping cunt is burning, pushed to new limits, and suddenly every nerve ending in your body remembers; you had no say in what’d happen tonight, all power relinquished to San.
“Mh, I— I don’t— dunno if I can, ah, ah—!” you slur out, mewling when Wooyoung picks exactly this moment to suck harshly at your nipple. He whines happily as your hand flies to his hair, yanking at the black strands.
San’s hand joins yours to pull a squirmy Wooyoung away. “Breathe baby, deep breaths,” he says, sweetly kissing a fresh tearstreak on your cheek. “You don’t have to. Already doing so well, taking so much for us.”
“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Yunho hums, rubbing his nose against your other cheek. He takes out his fingers and gives your slicked folds a gentle squeeze. “We’ll be careful with you. A pretty thing like you needs taking care of, don’t you? Gonna stuff you full, just the way you need. God, I can’t wait to feel you clench around my cock…”
You whimper, feeling hazy from their praise. Allowing you to slide back into that fuzzy safety of subspace, no thoughts of your own; Yunho and San know what’s best for you.
“T-then do it,” you moan. “Stuff me full, please.”
Yunho lets out a soft, delighted giggle at your eagerness. “We will, don’t you worry. San, lets see if your little troublemaker can get it back up again.”
The little troublemaker in question perks up, and then hisses when San reaches between you and Wooyoung to slick up his hand with your arousal before wrapping his fingers around Wooyoung’s worn-out cock. “F-fuck, Sannie,” he gasps, his body reflexively trying to jerk away, but pinned in place by you on his lap.
Yunho nuzzles your shoulder while he watches in approval how Wooyoung’s dick plumps back up. “Doing such a good job, San-ah…” he says with a pleased smile. “Look at you, almost can’t believe you’re the same guy as that timid rookie I took under my wing. You know just what your submissives need and always give it to them, don’t you? What a good boy you are.”
San whines at the praise, stroking Wooyoung a little faster. His eyes widen in surprise when Yunho clasps his chin, but he gladly melts into the offered kiss. It’s brief but intense, San’s tongue sucked into Yunho’s mouth, a thin trail of saliva connecting them when Yunho pulls away again, leaving San panting.
“Good boy,” Yunho smiles again, brushing his thumb over San’s flushed cheek. “Time for the next part.”
Yunho helps you to turn around, sitting reverse cowgirl on Wooyoung’s lap. Even in your dazed state, you quickly realise where this is going when San slicks up Wooyoung’s cock with a coat of lube. So you’re ready and relaxed when his cockhead prods between your asscheeks, lifting your hips to help San guide him inside, your jaw falling slack as you slowly lower yourself down.
Wooyoung groans a muffled swear against your shoulder once you’re fully seated on him, tightly circling his arms around your waist. Thankfully San prepped you well — but your nerves still momentarily spike back to life when Yunho bears down on you, swallowing your mouth in a deep kiss as he lines himself up. You whine against his lips, scrambling to grab onto something as his thick cock rubs through your sticky folds, then starts to push inside. One of your hands finds Wooyoung’s wrist, nails digging into his skin, while the other delves into Yunho’s hair.
Just by himself, Yunho would already be enough to overwhelm you; but buried alongside Wooyoung, their cocks pressing against each other through the thin barrier of your inner walls, you are drowning, completely overcome before he’s even fully sheathed inside you.
“Hngh, f-fuck, Yunho, hm can’t— too much, please—” you gasp out, but this time Yunho is less receptive to your pleas.
He tuts, unyielding. “This again? Sannie, what do you think?”
San cups your cheek, intently looking you over as you nuzzle pitifully into his palm — but when he speaks, his tone is cool and dismissive. “She’s fine.”
You sob weakly as Yunho sinks deeper, unyielding, but safe-wording is the farthest thing from your mind. Your head falls back against Wooyoung’s shoulder, mouth agape and spit dribbling down your chin. There is a bliss to being pushed like this, all control stripped away from you. Your cunt greedily sucks Yunho in, gushing around him, your body so wired you almost think you could cum just like this. Almost.
San observes you with feline curiosity, tilting his head as he seems to realise the same. “See, you like it,” he says smugly, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Isn’t that right? No, no don’t be like that,” he teases when you let out a strangled moan. “You should tell them. Let them know, baby, say you like it.”
“L-like it…” you whimper, panting for breath when Yunho’s cock is finally nested inside your snug cunt, walls twitching around him. “Like having your cocks fill me up, feels so full…”
“Not full enough yet,” San says, quirking his eyebrows. “You got one hole left that needs to get stuffed. Hold her for me, Yunho.”
He shifts on the bed to reposition himself, and you don’t have time to process his words before Yunho’s large hand suddenly wraps around your throat again. It’s not tight enough to obstruct your airway, but your brain is instantly light-headed all the same, and you’re helpless to do anything except let him guide your mouth to San’s waiting cock.
With every inch of him going down your throat, you sink deeper into that fuzzy heat, your entire sense of self melting away until there is nothing left but that blissful pressure, filling you up from the inside. Static buzzes through you, and San grunts at how you moan gutturally around his cock
“You like this too, baby?” he asks with a mocking lilt, knowing damn well you can’t tell him.
But you still try your best, muffled moans escaping past his thick girth. You cry out louder when Wooyoung suddenly makes himself known again, angling for your attention by palming your chest. He plucks at your hard nipples, his teeth grazing against the nape of your neck as he lavishes you with open-mouthed kisses. His lips brush against the tips of Yunho’s fingers, who gives your throat a light squeeze, just to hear you whine.
Then, Yunho begins to move.
He starts off with slow, deep rolls of his hips, testing how he pushes you back on Wooyoung’s cock, how you almost gag around San. He bucks a little harder, and then you do gag, your throat convulsing around San’s fat cockhead, tears springing in your eyes.
Still mocking you, San coos at the sight. He brushes your tears away as they fall, but a low groan escapes him when he feels at your stuffed cheeks. You whimper, trying to curve your tongue around the vein on the underside of his cock — but Yunho fucks you harder now. Jostled by his rough thrusts, you’re forced to feel every inch of every cock that’s shoved inside your body, until you’re losing yourself in them, seizing up as wet heat pulses through your core, a dam bursting with delirious ecstasy, overloading your senses.
Their sweet moans fill your ears as you clench and spasm around them with intense release, low grunts and high whines, their arms holding you upright as the high passes through you, your body starting to sag.
It takes you a moment, still coming down to earth, to realise Wooyoung is clinging onto you desperately, his fingers digging into your sides. He whines and trembles, a faint buzzing reaching your ears. Confusion fights through your pleasure-addled brain — until you see the small remote in San’s hand, and a memory makes its way through of Yunho putting a buttplug in Wooyoung’s used hole. A vibrating plug, as it turns out.
“F-fuck,” Wooyoung grinds out, his sweat-slicked forehead pressed against your shoulder as his nails leave crescents in the soft meat of your waist. “I— I—”
“Gonna cum, Woo?” San asks, looking unimpressed, but the words come out tightly. He runs his hand through Wooyoung’s hair, forcing his head back. “Hold back, as long as you can. Understood?”
Wooyoung’s answer is nothing but a strangled sob, but it’s enough for San. He releases Wooyoung’s hair, cupping the back of your head instead, making sure he always stays good and deep in your mouth even while Yunho brutally fucks into you.
You’re burning, barely come down from your last orgasm when you feel the next one creeping up on you. Wooyoung is on the brink, San throbbing inside you, while Yunho never lets up on his punishing pace, a vein popped in his neck from the exertion of pistoning that obscenely big cock into your sopping cunt.
Sweat beads down Yunho’s temple, and a faint wish flits through your mind to suck at that bulging vein in his neck — but his hand is still firm around your throat while San uses it for his own pleasure, and the wish fades away.
“Touch her, Wooyoungie,” Yunho grunts. “Touch her clit. Wanna feel her cum again while we stuff her full.”
Wooyoung mewls weakly, but obeys with a shaky hand. The touch is directionless, weak swipes without clear purpose, but you’re on the edge in a second, not needing much at this point — and neither does San. His low moans choke up into a whine when you keen around him, sticky heat bursting on your tongue as he curses, almost doubling over. Wooyoung follows him in seconds, like San’s release was the permission he needed to finally let go, biting into your shoulder while he shudders and spills deep inside you.
Wooyoung pinches your clit just as Yunho hits right against that sweet spot, and you topple over again, toes curling, arching into him, a soundless cry reverberating around San’s cock as pleasure ripples through your body. Yunho swears hoarsely as you clamp down on him, pulling him over with you. It’s slightly weaker than the last one but the release lingers, quaking through you and elongated by every spurt of seed that the three men give you.
The buzzing of the buttplug stops in the wake of silence that follows, and San unceremoniously drops the remote onto the bed, his sweaty chest rising and falling with every heavy breath. Gently he frees your mouth, and you let out a weak cough at the sudden free pull of air. The lower half of your face is absolutely drenched with spittle and now, unable to swallow it all down, a trickle of cum leaks past the corner of your lips — just like it dribbles past Yunho and Wooyoung’s cocks, every hole leaking.
Wooyoung slumps against you, his arms still around your waist, and his weight forces you to slump into Yunho in turn. Yunho chuckles tiredly, helped by San to stay upright under your combined weights while they let you catch your breath. Pressed between their solid bodies, you can’t even tell whose hand runs over your arm, sighing contently. Exhausted to complete satisfaction.
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Afterwards, San and Yunho both took a shower while you shared a long bath with Wooyoung; and now you’re bundled up in a soft bathrobe and San’s strong arms, curled up against him on the couch. He’s dozing off behind you, his chin nodding onto your shoulder, his drowsiness undeterred by the movie that’s playing on the TV.
(It’s Yunho’s favourite way to wind down after a long scene, so here you are, watching Into the Spider-Verse together.)
On the other end of the couch, Wooyoung is nestled comfortably between Yunho’s legs. The two of them frequently burst out into giggles, either from a joke in the movie or one shared between them. The atmosphere is easy, bright, all pieces slotted into place. You can’t help a smile, snuggling deeper against San, watching Yunho and Wooyoung’s antics, a simple thought settling warmly in your stomach as the four of you fit into this comfortable space together. This feels good.
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strangersteddierthings · 3 days ago
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Platonic Stobin bodyswap AU idea I'll never write. This has been in my drafts for over a year (since July 2023 per the timestamp)
Post season 3; During the season 3 bathroom confession scene Robin came out to Steve, and Steve came out to her. She knows he's bi, and she's the only one who knows. Swap starts off slowly for Steve and Robin. Little moments of vertigo where the world doesn't look right for a few seconds, that progresses to black out periods of time spanning 5-15 minutes. It's them switching bodies but it's so traumatizing (they are FREAKING out) that they don't remember it. So, it's like they're just losing moments in time, which still freaks them out.
Then one day they wake up and they're... each other. And they just don't go back.
And Steve can't really pass as Robin to her parents but thankfully they just blame it on 'moody teenage angst' and "you can talk to us about anything babygirl we love you so much and we're here when you need us." Which. Yeah, Steve cries about. But it also comes with the side of GOD FUCKING DAMMIT I HAVE TO FINISH HIGH SCHOOL AGAIN??? I CAN'T PLAY THE TRUMPET ROBIN YOU HAVE TO DROP OUT OF BAND
And Robin also cannot pass as Steve at first, but she gets to see how that matters exactly 0% because the Harrington's don't even notice. They also aren't around near as much as Steve makes them out to be. But she does get to enjoy the freedom of a legal drivers license and no job currently. HOWEVER she has walked Steve's pretty face into several doors/poles/walls because cute girls keep looking at her with hunger in their eyes and she doesn't know how to handle this.
(It makes more girls interested in a suddenly shy, stumbling, nervous Steve because those girls think they're the reason Confident Sex God Steve turns into a mess but really it's just Robin not knowing how to exist in a world where woman want her and fish fear her (sorry bad joke))
Anyway, queue shenanigannary for a bit. Steve encourages Robin to go on dates because why not get some practice in while they wait to swap back again? (he's holding out hope)
Do they have the awkward discussion of 'what are the limits to what I'm allowed to do in your body????? I dunno yet.
Anyway, Robin goes on dates. ((Does she end up going on a date with Vickie? Canonically Vickie's got no problem dating older boys? How to solve this plot line for when(if?) they switch back bodies? IDK dudes, that's Future Jess's issue.))
At some point, the gang finds out. Probably Dustin realizing Steve isn't as Steve-like as usual. He'd sniff out something was wrong with his brother for sure.
But then season 4 starts. Robin taught Steve how to play the trumpet back in August/Sept and it's then they realize that they kind of share their knowledge? Like... Steve picks up how to play the trumpet EASY. At first they think it's just Robin's body using muscle memory but then Robin realizes she knows things only Steve should.
Anyway, Steve is in band with Vickie the night of the Championshipgame, chatting easily while also trying to hint that 'Hey, I think Steve Harrington is checking you out???" while trying to tell Robin with telepathy (that they don't have... yet? Decide if they end up with telepathy later) to try and subtly check out Vickie. But neither girl is subtle so they both just whip around to stare at each other and Steve is facepalming.
NO WAIT. DO I MAKE CHANGES TO THE NARRATIVE BECAUSE IF STEVE IS IN HIGH SCHOOL AGAIN, THERE IS NO WAY HE'D LET DUSTIN AND MIKE SKIP OUT ON THE CHAMPIONSHIP GAME. Maybe??? Will decide on this point later. Until then, above points stay.
Anyway, Chrissy still dies (sorry) and Eddie's still on the run, but like this time in the boathouse, Robin invites Eddie to stay at 'his' big empty house 'cause the parents are gone and Robin has no hangups about Eddie like Steve did in canon (he is the first person we hear call Eddie The Freak).
The end point here is that Robin, Steve, and Eddie spend A LOT of time together at Steve's house and then the angst falls in because Steve starts to fall in love with Eddie.
So, he has a breakdown in a bathroom with Robin about it, all sad and crying like "I really fuckin' like him Robs, but I can't- there- we can't-"
"I need you to take a breath and tell me what the issue is," Robin says.
"I like him Robs, but this is your body. I can't take things from you. Like your first kiss. And I certainly can't- I won't put your body through... you know. I can't do that to you."
And it takes Robin a moment to process what he means. Romantic entanglements that Steve might want to have would have to happen with her body. And maybe Robin isn't sure what to say/do because the thought of a guy and his dick anywhere near her body immediately freaks her out but... she's not in her body. She's in Steves, and has been doing things with girls in it. It never occurred to her that Steve might want to get hot and heavy with a guy in her body and maybe she's got something to unpack there???
Anyway, no time to worry about that. Vecna's gonna kill Max so they gotta go. Also, Eddie does NOT know about the body swap.
She does tell Steve to kiss Eddie, though, in the end. When they're not sure they'll live. So, Eddie calls out to Steve. "Make him pay." So, to Eddie, it looks like Steve gives him a nod and it's Robin who marches up, grabs his face, and plants one on him. Robin(Steve) doesn't stick around long enough for Eddie to kiss back (Steve wants him to because he wants a proper kiss from Eddie, but he also doesn't want him to because Eddie thinks he's kissing Robin and if he kisses back it means he likes Robin, not Steve, so Steve doesn't lock lips long enough find out).
Something something they all survive and then Eddie, hopped up on pain meds in the hospital, demands to speak to Robin. So, Steve slinks in, afraid of what's going to happen, and Eddie's like 'Robin. I appreciate that you like me but you are unfortunately a girl and I am not into that.' And Steve is like!!! my time!! It's come!!! I HAVE to get back to my body.
And then at some point they switch back. Maybe El doing some mind fuckery? Idk.
And for fun, here's the beginning of the fic that idea written out:
"Whoa," Steve blinks rapidly as the world tilts and shifts. It's very sudden, and over just as quickly as it started, but it still leaves Steve unanchored for a moment. It was probably brought on by the concussion he's been nursing these last two days, since the whole Starcourt shit. He leans sideways to try and use the wall as an anchor until everything feel right again.
He should, probably, be more concerned about this because this has been like, the fourth time this has happened and when he told Robin about it, she confessed it was happening to her, too. That Owens guy had told them there could be unknown side effects to whatever the fuck they'd been injected with and this might just be part of that. It'll fade, Steve's sure, as the days go on. Never mind that it has been happening more lately. It's going to fade. It has to.
Except, it doesn't. The sensation of be unanchored gets worse, and now it comes accompanied with loss of time. Steve will feel the tilt and shift while standing in the doorway to his room and the next thing he knows he's got a hand on his front door, keys in his hand, and doesn't know where he was trying to go.
Ring Ring
Steve shakes his head, shakes away the feeling of wrongness and goes to answer the phone. "Harrington residence, Steve speaking."
"Steve! Steve, it's getting worse!" Robin's voice sobs at him from the other end of the phone. "I-I was in the kitchen and then I was, like, huddled in the bathroom and I don't remember going there."
"Fuck, me too. I just came to standing at my front door, about to leave but I don't remember getting there, or where I was planning to go," Steve confesses back. It's strange, how easily Robin has become a part of his life. He was expecting her to not want to be withing five miles of him ever again, after what he got her dragged into, but it seems Robin isn't scared away. Perhaps it's just that he's the only other person she knows who went through Russian torture. Even if that is the case, Steve'll take it. He likes Robin a lot.
"Should we... call Dr. Owens?" Robin sounds so small when she asks.
"I don't want to," Steve confesses but doesn't elaborate. Calling Dr. Owens means admitting that something is wrong wrong. Steve doesn't want anything to be that wrong. He wants to get back to his life. He's got to get back to job searching, too, and Dr. Owens might deny him that.
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moralesluvr · 2 days ago
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Hi! I really love your writing and the way you express emotions so well in your stories, and I was wondering if you could write something about how the reader is very sad and unmotivated one day, but reader doesn't have any particular reason for it.
When Billie tries to reach out to us, we don't reply, and she's super worried. Maybe she comes over and asks, but we hardly have the energy to even say a word. And maybe Billie comforts us and says that it's just a rough day?
Idk, I have no idea what I'm saying, but I'm hoping you'll get the message, Lol. I have been feeling really down lately, and I haven't seen very many comforting fics with Billie.
Thank you! 💚
i’ve been feeling like this too, anon, so here you go 🫂 hope this makes you feel better, sweet thing <3
HOLD ONTO ME | b. eilish.
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you’ve had better days than this one, to say the least.
it wasn’t anything in particular that was making you feel down. you had woken up with a headache, and you assumed that could be the culprit, what was responsible for your bad mood— but the emotions lingered even after your headache faded.
you immediately curled back up in your bed, nothing but candlelight and your phone screen illuminating the dim atmosphere of your bedroom. you hadn’t really eaten— just a bag of chips felt sufficient, though you knew deep down you needed to have a real meal. you just couldn’t bring yourself to slither out of bed and grab something.
you were half asleep underneath your heated blanket when you felt your phone buzz beside you a couple of times. reluctantly, you grabbed the device, it’s glare lighting up your face as you squinted, noticing you had many missed calls and texts from your girlfriend, billie.
you hadn’t really talked to her all day. you didn’t mean to vanish on her like that— but every movement of yours felt sluggish, forced, and you really didn’t have the energy to give to her today. tears fought to fall from your eyes, but you blinked them away, opening your phone to see what billie wanted.
it felt awful to ignore her. but your fingers felt like they were a thousand pounds, and you couldn’t lift them to even type out a single response. so her messages only remained read, your phone shutting off due to idle activity. you slumped back into your covers with a huff, silence engulfing you as you tried not to break down and cry.
everything’s abnormally quiet until you hear someone knock at your bedroom door, and there’s only one person who has a key to your apartment, so you immediately knew who it was. you lift your head onto a pillow, clearing your voice, “in here.”
the door flings open slowly, and there’s billie— her hair in a loose ponytail, a hoodie and shorts accenting her frame. she whines when she sees you, immediately kicking off her J’s to meet you at the end of your bed. she kneels down, “baby, did you not see my calls or texts? i was worried so sick for you…is everything okay?”
you want to speak, but the words won’t come. you’re so mentally exhausted that you just start to cry, arms open wide for her to lay in. she immediately slides underneath the covers with you, not saying a word as she gently strokes your hair. you just sob into her sweatshirt, and her forehead rests against yours as you feel her hold you tight.
“oh, i know it baby…i’m so sorry.” billie coos, “you don’t have to talk, i know you’ve had a rough couple of days…just relax.”
she’s so close that you can hear her heartbeat, and your eyelashes bat against your cheeks as you resist more bothersome tears. you reach under the covers to hold her hand, sniffling into her sweatshirt and fumbling with the hem, “i’m just sad. i—“
“shh, it’s okay,” she tuts at you, “s’okay, baby. you don’t have to say anything— i know. it’s gonna be okay, i’m right here.”
your heart flutters at her uplifting words, your eyes falling closed as you listened to the rhythmic pattern of her heartbeat, lulling you to a sleep. and it wasn’t like all the others that you’ve had— it was peaceful, tranquil, quiet.
billie runs fingers along your back, planting a kiss to your forehead, “i love you so much. i’m always right here for you, just hold onto me.”
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jmdbjk · 1 day ago
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The year that was 2024:
But first...
Standing at the threshold of 2025 I look back far past 2024 to that day in June 2022 and the grief, disbelief... the shock and trauma those of us experienced while watching the Festa Dinner video. That dinner had been pre-recorded a few weeks prior and they released it on June 14. The members had to be scared of what our reactions would be when we watched it. 
At that time we still had no idea how military enlistment would unfold, that news was still months away for us after the October concert in Busan. All we knew was BTS was going to pause but we did not really know what that meant. And it wasn't just the fans who went into a tailspin, Hybe stock took a dip, the secretary of Ministry of Culture Sports and Tourism begged BTS to come back. The news of a BTS hiatus began to hit international news media across the globe. The emotional devastation was real.
That day and following days, it seemed like 2025 was forever in the future. What would we be like in 2025? What would the members of BTS be like? What would the music industry landscape be like? What would the world be like? It was two and a half years away from that day. Back in June 2022, 2025 seemed like a lifetime away in the future, a bleak, dark unknown.
We attempted to pull ourselves together and look for the positives... "we'll save so much money!” and "we'll have time to learn Korean!" HAH! The real winner: “I can catch up on content!” LMAO!
Here we are now, two and a half years later. My god the shit that's transpired since. A lot of it was not on anyone's radar.
2024, the year of fighting...
Throughout the year and as the year wore on, we fought boycotters, haters, mantis and solos. We fought the media, each other, other fandoms... it was a constant battle to clear the mess. Our main weapon? Our love for BTS and the members and our commitment and determination.
We should be better at recognizing bad actors, at recognizing organized hate. I hope you all are blocking it, muting it because it is an energy drain to dwell on it and it exists. Some people are compelled to lash back at it. I'm not one of those. I prefer blocking/muting. Do what is right for you.
So here's a recap of 2024...the first quarter of the year started out calmly.
January: We were basking in the BTS documentary series Beyond the Star and waiting for a sign of our men completing their basic training. We were hoping to find out where they would be stationed for the rest of their military service.
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February was relatively quiet. Except for this.
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Tae's song "Fri(end)s", released mid-March.
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Hope on the Street Vol. 1 released end of March with the six episode docu-series running through April.
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We were hitting our stride, understanding that they'd prepared so much for us while they were away. Even k-media reported on the unusual amount of content produced by BTS to span their enlistment time. It was reassuring and we were spoiled. Looking back, it was the quiet before the storm...
This "quiet before the storm" has never quieted before the storm like this quiet before the storm quieted the first quarter of 2024.
In April we witnessed a real eclipse in the sky and then while we were having the best time unraveling the mystery of the Monochrome merch popups, the shit hit the fan with the Min Hee Jin revelations. And that circus was just beginning. Maybe I'm just naive or too much of a positive person but I never fathomed that there were people out there this demented, this twisted, this delusional, controlling and narcissistic that they thought they could single-handedly bring down a huge company like Hybe via public opinion. And as time went on and continues to go on we learned she was not alone. That woman is sick and evil.
I recalled back in 2021 seeing people be paranoid about the young company, Hybe, hiring ex-SM employees. I wanted to believe these former SM employees they hired saw the opportunity to escape a toxic workplace and therefore defected to Hybe. Now we know the paranoia was justified.
The end of April and into May I watched Begins ≠ Youth, the drama series based on the BTS Universe. It took years for that series to finally see the light of day. It was very intriguing. There was a lot of controversy about Xclusive, the platform it was delivered on. My theory is it was an experiment to see how fans would react to a blockchain/NFT product. I have a huge post in my drafts about it but we moved on from it quickly, so I did too. The series was great though.
The rest of May was a month where we were trying to remain calm, trying to remain positive. We as a fandom felt very beat up. Anticipation was through the roof for Jin's military discharge and Festa.
But first, Namjoon released Right Place, Wrong Person, the studio album and subsequently, the accompanying documentary, Right People, Wrong Place. Both the album and documentary are critically acclaimed, winning awards and landing on "best of" lists across the globe.
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Finally, it's June. Jin's discharge was so emotional for everyone. We were able to see everyone except Yoongi greet him outside the gates. But it was amazing seeing all 7 together in still photos afterward. It was a collective sigh of relief that we truly are beginning the downhill side of their military enlistment. Jin has been working his ass off since that day, his album Happy and its title song Running Wild doing well.
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I know we've got our opinions about the South Korean government but that day, for me, seeing Jimin and Jungkook in their uniforms, as soldiers, just hit a spot in me that I can't describe. I felt proud of them. And I hope after their discharge they can tuck away that sense of accomplishment in a safe space and flip the bird at the bureaucrats running their country.
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Jimin dropped his second album, Muse, in July, the mystery solved of what all those other producers were doing with Jimin the second half of 2022. The title song Who continues to chart. His songs are wonderful. I'm so proud of how far he's come during this solo era. I miss him.
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And then Are You Sure?! happened. Even though we KNEW it was coming, I can't believe we got that show. I can't believe they did all of that. Naked Jimin except for a small pair of black shorts... naked Jungkook. Just so much naked after years of Victorian era artist protection CG over every square inch of bare skin. Watching that show, so much of what I knew in my mind of how they are together was mostly confirmed.
I said this months ago: After Jungkook’s 2023 Weverse lives, the Are You Sure?! series, their companion military enlistment and his documentary I Am Still the theatrical release and the Disney+ docu-series, it is clear that Jimin is Jungkook’s touchstone, a significant presence through at least this part of his life. We can’t know what the future holds, I would never dare to assume what their own personal desires or goals are for themselves, but I do know that Jimin will play a big part in it and I hope we still get to see some of that play out when it happens.
I'm still processing. I digressed. It happens when it comes to me, Jimin and Jungkook. Moving on.
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August... my god. My dear Yoongi. We are still waiting to see him again, to see with our own eyes that he is actually ok and to figuratively take his hand in ours, to reassure each other and keep moving forward to leave this year far behind. I know he knows we are here. I can't stand the wall though, of not being able to see him. Does that make sense? I mostly keep my thoughts to myself about him because it really hurts my heart to think about him having to suffer through all that. August and into September were hard, hard… so hard.
Fast forward to October when Hobi stepped out of those doors on the day of his discharge, it seemed like time had flown by as if we just watched him leaving for training camp, even though it was sooooooo long ago.
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And now he's lived in LA for almost a month, been in Japan and seen with more people... A possible fashion collab? Songs/album in February? We don't know anything for sure yet but info has leaked. A tour in spring? I'll be there if I can snag tickets.
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We've seen glimpses of Tae and his buff self. His collab with Bing Crosby was ground breaking and hopefully will become a holiday classic just like the original. Also, happy birthday, Tae!
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[Photo shared by Taehyung on his Instagram stories.]
December began shockingly with South Korea's President Yoon attempting to impose martial law. My heart dropped. Our guys were on red alert, scrambling. It lasted a few hours before being overturned by their national assembly.
Mid-December, while on a vacation leave, Jungkook surprised us with a 2 and a half hour live just like he used to do. He looked so good. He sounded good. From what I saw, he's still the same Jungkook.
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Do you realize, if martial law had remained in effect, we would not have seen Jungkook? There would be no celebrating. We would all be in limbo. Who knows what that crazy shithead (now impeached-president Yoon) would have done if martial law was still in place. The slow reveal of information about the planning of it is chilling and should be a reminder to us all to not take things for granted. Their National Assembly are still trying to get everything under control, the turmoil is not over yet.
Somehow, the Universe is working overtime to get BTS through their service and I hope it continues to do so because we still have just under six months left. At this point, I believe anything could happen.
Counting down the hours to 2025
We are about to enter the holy Borayear of our Lord Min Yoongi 2025. Bestie and I talked a lot about what the possibilities might be for 2025.
Of course, like everyone else, we know nothing for sure, only what we've gleaned from the member's themselves, official announcements, news releases and hints here and there. What we DO know for sure is there will not be a void. We have two Tannies back with us. Music will be released, content produced:
January 4 is Jin's OST.
Not directly BTS related but we as a fandom would like some closure and satisfaction surrounding the MHJ drama because trials will begin in January.
Hobi has something coming. Certainly Hobi will have another EP, perhaps HOTS Vol. 2? which would be supported with a tour. There's been a leak of info. We are on high alert.
For the others, perhaps a few one-off singles before June. Between us, we don't think Tae has another album's worth of music. Jungkook either.
A Yoongi collab perhaps?
Namjoon, probably nothing. Poor baby is so ready to be discharged.
The Jimin x Benny Blanco music, whatever that may be.
Maybe that rumored JK x Tae subunit song. Or maybe it's not a song?
Jin mentioned another album but the timing is tight to squeeze it in before June.
Then the HYYH 10th Anniversary in April, whatever that may entail. A retrospective perhaps?
Attempting to predict how their discharge days will play out is difficult. Jin and Hobi splitting up to meet Namjoon and Tae at their respective bases? And then all four of them head to Jimin and Jungkook the next day to greet them as they exit their base? We wait with anticipation.
After the Boraholy month of June 2025, we expect group activities to ramp up. What those will be is anyone's guess. Weverse lives for sure. Also, dance practice videos. We expect new music. We also expect performances. Perhaps a one-off "we're baaAAAaack!" type concert? Or not. But performances of some sort. They've been looking forward so much to performing I can't see them waiting any longer than they have to for at least one performance somewhere, somehow.
And toward the end of 2025, a comeback album and the world tour announcement. May the odds be ever in your favor. Just kidding. I'm getting those tickets.
Our speculation continues... could new music consist of more subunits?
I could be wrong but I do not think they will revisit a Bon Voyage or In The Soop format. They might pick up Run BTS but it won’t be like it was before. I can’t even see them doing what Jin’s doing in many Run Jin episodes. Not as a group.
I think (I hope) that Yoongi picks up Suchwita again. I hope he does not change one iota of the format. He can address his incident again if he chooses, reiterate he apologized, paid his fine and now we’re moving on to live our big life. That’s it. I hope if this happens his first guest is BTS as a group. 
Maybe that last thing is really wishful thinking on my part but even considering Yoongi might ditch Suchwita or change it just doesn’t align with who he is. He is a “fuck you” type of guy. 
Anyway. 2025 has a promise of hope and happiness and relief and closure. But now, I think we all know to be wary, that anything can happen. 
Bottomline to all of this, to wrap up the year and look forward to the new year is that BTS is COMING BACK. SEVEN MEMBERS STRONG.
The reality is, it will be three years from that day back in 2022, when we finally see them as a group again. The members are slowly becoming more active. We have less than six months to wait and we know how fast that can go. 163 days left for Jimin and Jungkook, 162 for Namjoon and Tae, 173 left for Yoongi.
We must enjoy every moment we can until June 2025 and hope for the best! FIGHTING.
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cipheramnesia · 2 days ago
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It's been awhile, but generally iirc the series was waning in popularity at the end of the 80s. The attempt at a reimagining of the character under Colin Baker was pretty much rejected before it could pay off (it was meant to give the audience a chance to experience the Doctor rebuilding their humanity and empathy, but people hated the initially chaotic and selfish version). Colin Baker was written off early - so unceremoniously that he flat refused to participate in the underwhelming regeneration scene - and the first few scripts with Sylvester McCoy were done before he was cast, which presented a fairly bland but safe characterization. Few people seem to give him credit as the first actor in the series who didn't used RP as the Doctor. Instead, his Doctor speaks with his own distinct Scottish brogue, which over the course of his time in the role (I think) worked to tremendous effect in distinguishing his Doctor as deeply cunning, steeped in ancient mystery and incomprehensibly powerful, overlayed on top of a deep melancholy. However, again, this newer and more serious angle presumably wasn't well received by the audience. On top of all that, a huge number of his serials were committed to nostalgia tied to the show's 25th anniversary, such as Battlefield, Silver Nemesis, and Remembrance of the Daleks - frankly I'd count Curse of Fenric in there too.
There was a whole lot going on during Ace's appearances, and combined with the majority of the fandom favoring the new Doctor Who (familiar with the better known 1-5 Doctors at best from the classics), she's kind of flown under the radar probably until she got a call back in Power of the Doctor. And beyond all that, she was really a bucket of cold water over the established companions. It wasn't just that she'd push back so much, but that it was very sullen, very emotional - she was angry, and acted out in ways that were more upsettingly human. With other companions it was always a bit of give and take, but Ace was probably the first one where she got really hurt, emotionally speaking. And also who hurt the Doctor back on the same level. Several of their personal conflicts were upsetting on a deep down level in ways that haven't recurred very often before or since (another way she matches well with Rose). Every version of her history has her parting with the Doctor on bad terms, and it's an honest read of the character.
The things that made her so appealing to teenage me, watching reruns in the USA, probably rubbed a lot of viewers the wrong way. There were so many nuanced background elements that came through, her raging anti-racism stemming from personal trauma, her history of abuse from her mother, the overarching experience of being treated as stupid and small and worthless felt so very real for me. It made her triumphs cathartic, her acceptance by the Doctor profoundly moving, and her losses tragic. In the present day, she's vibrant, she stands out as a complex and strong female character, something of a treasure who is going to live in my head forever. But at the time, well, she was just one more reason to cancel the whole show.
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ayeyolooo · 2 days ago
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AVOIDING -i’m so sorry for any mistakes or errors!
your beats blasted look like by chicken p as the wind danced with your curls. you were trying to hurry to class because you were avoiding a certain someone. Ever since eren ghosted you for a few days and then recently explained to you that he believe that he found his person already the person being mikasa, you were doing your best not to feel hurt about it. so you did what you did best, avoiding.
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Even though it hurt you, you had to push passed the pain to avoid any drama. You didn’t know what it was, you were just drawn to eren. Loving the way he treated you while the two of you were in a talking stage. Now all of that’s behind you. you seen eren and his friend group coming up on your right side so you put your head down and sped up your walking. “y/n.” your body went hot and your heart began beating fast. you ignored him and walked into your class.
“aye bra, ion know whatchu did to her but you need to fix it.” ony mummered. “what did you even do eren? i thought you and y/n was good, the praying before every game, doing bible study together, being on the phone all night i dont understand.” connie replied having eren lower his head in defeat. “my dad brought her up, seeing that her and i have gotten closer and seen her with my jacket on.” eren began. “nah man you just can’t seem to leave mikasa alone, knowing good and well she’s not no good for you.” armin side eyed him.
“can i finish?” eren replied. they all nodded. “okay so my dad told my ma how y/n was as a person, and knowing her you know she’s a girls girl, so they both fussed be out saying how i better not hurt her and things like that. and how im not ready for a girl like y/n..” they all hesitated. “wait a minute—.” connie called out.
“your dad.” connie pointed. “coach G, the one that be screaming for no reason, the evil coach protected her!?” ony interrupted. eren nodded and started to play with his rings on his hand. “okay so why does she hate you?” armin pondered. “because i told her how i found my person already, and that i love mikasa, and it’s to an extent with y/n.” the boys all gasped at hearing eren. “eren why did you say it like that? knowing her she was probably crying about it thinking how she wasn’t good enough for you.” eren huffed. “can yall stop, i already feel bad.” armin sucked his teeth. “you should, because y/n is the sweetest person here, if you know that you were going to hurt her, then you should’ve left her alone. and if you knew that you weren’t going to leave mikasa alike you shouldn’t never even started bothering her.” armin defended you, his face started to turn a light red. connie furrowed his eyebrows. “wait why are you riding her meat like that?? yall together or something?” ony jerked his head back at constance’s choice of words.
“nah y/n ain’t like that, if you knew armin and i well enough you would know that she’s like family to us. ever since my dad married armin’s mom y/n’s been coming around more because armin’s mom is her moms bestfriend. and im just pretty much there so we’re like her bestfriends.” ony backed armin up. “ohh type sh-.” eren just shook his head and palmed his hair backwards. “what should i do? she doesn’t want to talk to me.” they all just shook her head. “honestly man you should just let her come around, just leave her, because she’s pretty upset with you at the moment because 1. she feels like you’ve played with her time and 2 she’s going to end up saying something that she’ll regret later, so i’ll advise you to just leave her be.” armin nodded in agreement with ony.
“yeah cause something she needs to work on is speaking while she’s angry, she just allows things to come off of her tongue without thinking about it and then she’ll regret it later.” eren nodded because he noticed that that was true. you did it when you seen him and annie talking about armin, and you told him to come get his jacket and he got upset with you because you were just jumping to conclusions instead of asking him about it. but in your defense they were standing there talking about it for a while, and you couldn’t see as well so you couldn’t see that it was annie and not some random girl.
anyways both you and eren had problems that the both of you needed to fix with yourselves before getting with one another. “i mean eren i dunno man, you hurt her feelings real bad, cause if i was her and you said that to me i would’ve crashed out on you and mikasa.” ony shrugged. “foreal.” connie clapped him up and stated laughing. “bra yall laughing im being dead serious.” they all sucked their teeth. “man just take this L and leave her alone.” they shrugged and began walking to practice.
after practice ended you were walking so that you could ride with armin and ony, as you walked to the benches where they practiced eren began walking in your direction, you sighed your teeth and put your headphones on; white ferrari blasted in your ears as you looked down at your romance book and you picked it up before finishing to where you left off at. “y/n/n.” you heard erens voice. you ignored him.
he took your headphones off and you looked up at him. “what do you want?” you tried your best not to cry. He hurt you, your feelings were all over the place, you were upset that you allowed him to kiss on you, touch you you felt used. You regretted everything, you were disappointed in yourself for getting attached. to him. “can you talk to me please?” he pleased with you. “talk to you about what eren? you told me everything i needed to hear.” you began packing your bag. this was a mistake coming out here i should’ve just waited by their car. you scolded yourself. you stood up, grabbed your headphones from him and began walking.
you were pulled back, erens hand was on your arm. you turned around to erens sweaty face. (his cheeks were rosy red, and his eyes were puffy, while his hair was in a messy ponytail) “leave me alone bra, i don’t want to disrespect you or your girlfriend.” you warned. he just sighed. “would you just allow me to explain y/n? you’re so quick to jump to conclusions you never allow me to explain myself.” eren began to get upset. “you have 10 seconds eren.” you granted him. “why are you ignoring me, and avoiding me y/n?” you scoffed. “are you serious eren?” his eyes moved in confusion. “i’m sorry, i don’t understand you. First you say you found your person, then you chase me down why won’t you leave me alone?” you say. eren just gulped. “you didn’t answer my question..” he responded. “BECAUSE YOU’RE NOT MINE OKAY? i can’t have you, knowing that there’s another girl i just can’t, you love her, not me. i cannot get in between that, so please spare me for not wanting to fall inlovebworh you more, please. Just leave me alone, and let me get over you.
eren’s heart dropped. “don’t say that, you hurt my feelings when you say that.” eren swallowed. “say what eren? that i’m getting over you?? you don’t think you hurt my feelings? Telling me how i wasn’t the person for you? saying how you’ve found your person already almost as if you’ve just used me as a toy ,and as if i was just a place holder til mikasa comes back, do you know how dirty i felt when i got home, knowing that you had a girlfriend , you kissed me and grabbed on me. And me loving you i allowed it, i felt like such a bad person and you don’t even care bro.” tears streamed your face. “just leave me alone eren, stop trying to contact me, just stop it.” you pulled your arm away harshly and walked away sniffing. Eren felt poopy for treating you that way. and he didn’t mean to. erne turned around to seeing that whole football team watching you two. eren just dropped his head in embarrassment as he just took his helmet off of the floor and walked to the locker rooms. ony and armin just looked at eachother before shaking their heads and preparing to walk to the locker rooms.
AN:
i got lazy with the colors at the end lol.. but i’m going to write what yall requested 😭!!
BVOTD!✝️
PSALMS 91!😽
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slut4b1ls · 1 day ago
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—LATE AT NIGHT
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BILLIE EILISH X F!READER (smut)
summary: Billie texts you at night, asking you to come over..
It was a typical Friday night, you were laying in bed after a long day. You had on just your underwear and a baggy T-shirt you usually slept in. As you were about to put your phone away, a new message popped up.
„You up?” 1:24am
It was a text from Billie. You and her weren’t particularly close. She was a friend of your friend whom you’d seen a couple of times. The thing is, even though you’d met her more than once, you weren’t quite sure what to call the thing that was between you two. You definitely felt something for her; the effect she had on you was undeniable. Just a look from her could make you weak in the knees and Billie was completely aware of that. It didn’t take long for the two of you to give in, fucking the tension between you away. From that point on, every time you saw each other, it would end up in the same way.
„I was just about to go to sleep” 1:25am
„What’s up?” 1:25am
Billie wasn’t the type of girl that would catch feelings for someone quick, in fact, she was the complete opposite. You on the other hand would catch feelings pretty quick and that’s how you ended up in this not so easy situation. Billie had her needs and you were the perfect pray for her, would quickly get attached and in need of her validation.
„You think you could come ovr?” 1:27am
„I can call you a cab” 1:27am
Billie wasn’t a bad person; she just knew when and how to take advantage of a situation. In the end, you were also getting something you wanted too, right?
„It’s pretty late…” 1:28am
„Come on baby” 1:28am
„You won’t regret it, I promise” 1:28am
It didn’t take long for her to convince you. Just minutes after her last message, you were out of your apartment and stepping into a taxi she called for you. The drive to her house wasn’t long, as you were just minutes away, you texted her to let her know you were almost there.
As soon as you arrived, you got out of the taxi and hurried to Billie’s door. You knocked exactly three times, just like you always did. The door opened almost instantly, and Billie’s gaze traveled over you, checking you out, going from your feet to your eyes.
"Didn’t take you long, baby" she said with a playful smirk. You smiled and glanced at the ground, trying to avoid her piercing stare. "Tried my best to get here as soon as possible" you replied, looking back at her.
"That’s my girl" she said, her voice low.
After a moment of intimate silence, Billie stepped aside inviting you to come inside. She closed the door and as you walked further into her house, you felt her hand slip into yours from behind.
Before you could fully turn around, she tugged you closer and pulled you in for a kiss. Her lips met yours with hunger, and the way she grabbed the back of your neck to deepen the kiss made you weak in the knees.
After pulling away, she lead you to the couch in her living room. As you both sat down, she pulled you in for another kiss. A soft escaped your lips and you could feel her smile against your mouth "You know I love it when you come to me like this" she murmured, her tone teasing.
This wasn’t the first time she’d texted you late at night, asking you to come over and help her to relief. In fact, it has been happening pretty often since you two met. Though as for now, the only thing you could focus on was the way her hands were lingering on your body.
Billie’s fingers trailed up your sides as she slowly pulled of your shirt and tossed it onto the floor. She broke the kiss and leaned back slightly to take a good look of your exposed body. "I’ve missed this," she said, her voice low and full of desire "You can’t even imagine how badly I needed you."
She slowly leaned into your neck, her lips brushing your skin. Her hand slid under your skirt, and with a smooth motion, she pushed your panties to the side and started carressing your clit. "You’re so vulnerable like this," she said now pushing her fingers inside you. "So wet for me and we are just getting started."
As Billie was working you up, you couldn’t help but start moving your hips slowly on her fingers, seeking more.
"So needy.." she teased you with a smile. "Get up and bend over for me, baby."
Without hesitation, you got up and leaned over the couch, resting your elbows on the backrest, positioning yourself for her.
"Just like that.." she murmured approvingly.
You heard Billie unbuckle her pants and as she got closer to you, she lifted your skirt lightly and positioned the strap she had on so that it would go in perfectly.
The thing that always drew you back to her like a little puppy was that she was so undeniably good at pleasuring you. She understood the game and knew exactly how to play it.
Without a warning, she started thrusting into you, her hands on your ass. "Take it, baby" she said with a raspy voice. "You will take anything I give you, won’t you?"
"Anything" you said softly, following it with an even softer moan.
"You’re such a needy slut.." Billie whispered, her hands going on your waist. "Available for me anytime."
You leaned even more forward, straightening your arms on the backrest. "Take what I give you" she said increasing her speed "Because no one will ever be able to pleasure you like I do."
Her words were making you crazy, your heart started racing faster. "Bill… I’m really close.." you said, your voice sounding completely weak.
"And we’re not even done.." she said smirking at your words.
The room was filled with moans and sweat, the moment felt like forever. As you reached your final orgasm, your body tightened and Billie could feel it on your skin. She pulled out of you and leaned to give you a kiss on the lips.
"You did so good for me, baby" she said, zipping her pants. "Go take a shower, I will join you in a second."
a/n: Finally!! First smut everrrr. Please let me know what are your thoughts and if you have any suggestions I am open to listen and learn. Sooo nervous posting this but I hope you enjoyed. Love you allll🙈💙
tags: @hkkuugu @certifiedwomenlover @hopingforgoodblogs @canthelpit0 @billiesbabygirll @mybluebossanova @slutforabbyanderson
If you would like to be added to my taglist to be updated when I post a new fic, let me know!!
masterlist.
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c0s-lettuce · 19 hours ago
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Hii if it’s okay, can I please request a Sergei x fem!reader where she was walking home and was in the wrong place at the wrong time and witnessed something bad guys were doing and was in danger, but she was saved by Sergei (the bad guys were on his list so he happened to show up). She meets Sergei again when the same bad guys come after her again because she had seen too much, and he saves her again. Because it seems that the bad guys will not stop going after her because of what she saw, Sergei brings her to his cabin to protect her until he has taken out all of the bad guys? He’s super protective of her and she’s really scared about everything that’s going on and feels safe with him, and after a while of staying with him, they both start to fall in love and she doesn’t want to leave even after everything is safe 🥹
guardian angel - sergei kravinoff x reader
fem!reader, minor movie spoilers
a/n: thank you for the request! sorry this took a while, i hope i did it justice 😭 happy holidays everyone!
word count: 3317
warnings: descriptions of violence, mentions of blood
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A shortcut. That's all it was supposed to be - a quick detour down an alley. You've taken it a few times before, usually to escape the rain like tonight. It's a light sprinkle. One that might have been pleasant if it wasn't for the dark and your long day at work. Your walks home were, fortunately, mostly uneventful.
But not tonight. You'd blame it on bad luck. Or fate, if such a thing exists.
Unfriendly-sounding voices should have been your first clue to something being amiss. But curiosity drives you forward. Peering through the darkness, you see two figures surrounding a third person kneeling on the ground.
It seems like a confrontation of sorts, a heavily one-sided confrontation. They don't notice you, so you deem this a good moment to leave. You back away as quietly as possible. But as you approach the street, a black car pulls up, blocking the entrance.
The next few moments pass in a blur. There's a scream. A horrific squelching noise. You look back to see the third person now slumped on the ground. A silver glint in the hand of one of the other men. Two more men exit the car. There's shouting from one side, then both. You realise you've been noticed. You panic. Then, chaos.
You're unsure if you fell or were pushed, but you end up on the ground. You scramble away, and your back hits the wall of the alleyway. Bodies begin to go flying around you. Any attention that was paid to you is diverted. One man is in the middle of it all. He seems to know his way around killing, like a hunter.
Your front-row show is interrupted when you're dragged to your feet. A cold barrel is pressed against your temple. You freeze as you're held hostage. The hunter pauses and turns to you. Four bodies now lay dead, all killed in different ways. The man holding you is the only one left.
"Enough. Stop now, or the girl dies," the voice behind you speaks.
You notice that despite the man's intimidation, fear laces his tone. It's a mutual feeling as you stand silent and wide-eyed, afraid to move. The hunter raises his hands as if surrendering. You're not sure what to make of it.
But you don't get given the time to decide. In the blink of an eye, the hunter pulls out a knife, flicks it out and throws it towards your head. For a split second, you think it's all over. You squeeze your eyes shut. Either by bullet or blade, this is the end for you.
But then, the man's grip around you loosens, followed promptly by a dull thump. You turn around to see what happened. The man lies on the ground, a knife protruding from him square in the eye. Blood begins to pull around his head.
You bring your hands to your mouth and back away from the body. The sight is unlike anything you've seen. You're stuck between screaming, throwing up or passing out, but a voice from behind interrupts you.
"Are you hurt?" it asks, gruff and breathless.
You flinch at the sound. You turn back to look at the owner of the voice. The hunter stands before you, covered in the odd splatter of blood, hair and clothes mussed. You stare for a moment, bewildered.
Once you find your bearings, you reply, "Uh, no… no, I'm alright."
He nods, walking past you to retrieve his knife. The sound of the blade leaving the man's head makes you cringe.
"Sorry," he says, cleaning the knife on the man's clothes, "I would've warned you before I threw it, but that might have defeated the purpose."
You don't respond. Was that… a joke? What are you supposed to say to that?
In your silence, the hunter looks at you again. "You live around here?"
Again, it takes you a moment to answer. "Yeah, just a few blocks away."
"You should get home," he tells you, standing up. "Forget you saw anything."
You nod. That sounds like a good idea. A great idea, even. You force yourself to move, deciding on the regular route home instead of continuing this shortcut.
The hunter watches you pass but speaks up again before you get too far. "I'm sorry you had to see all that."
You pause, taking in his… somewhat considerate words. You glance back at him and mutter, "Thank you."
Once again, he nods, sighing as he looks down at the bodies. You turn away again and continue your way home. The journey passes in a haze, and you immediately go to bed once you arrive.
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As days pass, that night feels like a fever dream. Details don't come to you, with everything being a messy blur in your head. It was probably a good thing. However, the only part that remains clear is the elusive hunter.
A tall, muscular frame. Wavy, brown hair. Bright, blue eyes.
You clear your head of these thoughts as you stand and pack up your things. You're the last person left in your work building today, having stayed late to finish some extra work.
Just as you're about to head downstairs, you hear a loud crash. It's followed by more sounds, a mix of grunts, thumps and things breaking. You look around but can't see anything from where you are.
You grow anxious and search your desk for a weapon. You settle on a large paperweight, gripping it firmly and sneaking out. You bypass the elevators and go to the emergency staircase, carefully opening the door and ensuring it's empty inside before slowly heading down.
The sounds have stopped once you reach the bottom. You poke your head out, giving an obscured view of the ground floor. As expected, it's a mess of broken glass and wood. Crimson paints the floor, blood coming from three bodies. There's one man left standing. You recognise him immediately. The hunter.
You let your guard down, lowering the paperweight in your hands. You step out and look around again, getting a better look at the damage. You feel bad for whoever has to pay for all this. You turn to the hunter. He's already looking at you.
"It's you," you say.
"It's me," he replies. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah, completely fine. You?" you ask.
"I'm good," he says, looking around at the mess. "We should stop meeting like this."
You let out a small huff. "You're telling me. Who are these people?"
"They're part of a large criminal organisation. Their influence runs deep. They have people all over the continent."
"Criminal organisation…? Why are they here?"
"You saw them kill someone. You're a liability."
"They were here for me? But didn't you kill everyone who saw me?"
"They have eyes and ears everywhere. Must've found out some other way."
The thought unsettles you, and you sincerely hope you won't regularly be pursued by criminals. Suddenly, you miss the comfort of your home.
Then, the hunter speaks up. "I'm Sergei, by the way."
You're slightly caught off guard. But you tell him your name, and he repeats it with a nod.
"You should get going," he says. "The police will be here soon. I'll handle things here."
"Are you sure? This is my workplace."
"I'm sure. Go," he insists.
You acquiesce, collecting your things again. Before you leave, you and Sergei exchange contact details. He tells you to call him if anything happens. Once again, you find yourself walking away from the hunter and a pile of dead bodies he saved you from. But at least now you know his name.
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You've been home for the past few days since the building became a crime scene. You gave the police a vague description of what happened, and they haven't bothered you since.
You think about the hunter, who you now know to be Sergei Kravinoff. A Google search and some light stalking didn't reveal much about the man. And with no work to do, you continue to lie around at home.
But one morning, you wake up to a phone call. It's Sergei.
"Hello?" you answer.
"Where are you right now?" he asks immediately.
"At home. Why?" you say.
"Hard to explain, but you're in danger. I'm going to send you a location. I need you to go there. I'll have someone meet you."
He hangs up before you can get another word in. Seconds later, he sends the location for a terminal at the airport. Despite the abruptness and absurdity, his words worry you, so you quickly pack a small bag and head to the airport.
A dark-haired woman greets you at the terminal. You board the small aircraft landed there as she takes the pilot seat. She answers a few of the many questions you have. Sergei has been in different parts of Europe to eliminate this criminal organisation. It seems you have not left the group's radar because they had your address. Afraid they're planning on tying up loose ends, Sergei asks you to go to his safe house in Russia.
Great, you think. This is a totally regular occurrence.
It's a long flight. After hours, you finally arrive, landing on a secluded airstrip surrounded by bush and mountains. Sergei waits for you outside, approaching the aircraft as the door opens.
"Thanks for trusting me," he speaks over the noise of the aircraft.
"Well, you've given me enough reason to," you tell him.
"I'm sorry it had to come to this," he says.
"Don't be," you reply.
He gives you a grateful nod as he gestures with his head. "Follow me."
He leads you away from the runway. The landscape turns forest-like as you walk along a trail. You look around at the surprisingly picturesque view despite the strange circumstances you're in.
"So, what is this place?" you ask.
"I live here most of the time," Sergei explains. "This property used to belong to my mother's family. It's pretty much all I have left of her now."
"Right," you reply. "And do you make a habit of bringing many women out here in the middle of nowhere?"
He shrugs. "Just the ones whose lives are threatened by criminals."
"…Is that a lot?" you ask.
Sergei smirks, leaving your question unanswered as he picks up the pace. "Come on, it's just ahead."
You watch him go ahead of you, letting out a huff at his non-answer as you try to catch up. After a small trek, Sergei leads you to his cabin. It's a pleasant spot, a geometric glass dome surrounded by shrubbery and nature. There's also a scenic body of water nearby. This place would do great on Airbnb, you think to yourself.
You spend your first evening getting settled in. Sergei tells you he's heading to Romania, so you'll have the cabin all to yourself. He makes sure you have everything you need before leaving. He also advises you not to wander far while he's gone, telling you there are leopards, tigers and bears in the area. Well, there goes your Airbnb pitch.
Later that night, you climb to the loft and get into bed. A stranger's bed. A stranger who has saved your life multiple times, but a stranger nonetheless. It's almost dead silent at night, nothing like back home. The rustle of leaves in the wind and the quiet chirping of insects act as your lullaby.
The glass gives you a perfect view of the starry sky as you lie back. With no light pollution, the sight is nothing to scoff at. And after everything that has happened in the last few days, it doesn't take much longer for you to find respite in sleep.
Sergei calls to check in with you from Transylvania on the second day, asking how you're doing and updating you on the situation. He tells you he's on the home stretch, and it'll all be over once the last few people are weeded out. He stays on the call for just a moment longer to tell you a joke about vampires.
Once he hangs up, it doesn't take long for you to become incredibly bored. You do what you can to entertain yourself. You take pictures of the scenery, snack on whatever is available, take naps, and discreetly poke around through Sergei's belongings.
By day three, there was nothing left to snoop. You've looked at everything, from the fridge to the bathroom cabinet. And more absurdly, from the alchemy station to the weapons collection. Sergei doesn't keep many things around, so there wasn't much you could learn from your nosiness.
You wake to a text on the fourth morning. Sergei tells you the job is finished. He's already on his way to the cabin. You let out a breath at the message. It's done. You're safe.
You look around at the space you've called home for the past few days. A strange feeling claws at the back of your mind. A sense of disappointment. At what, you can't yet place. So, to distract yourself, you spend the day tidying. Closer to the evening, you make dinner to the best of your ability with what's available.
Sergei returns and is greeted with the delicious aroma of your food. The smell is foreign to his cabin, foreign to him. You welcome him back, doing a quick once over. He's weary and battered but otherwise seems to be in good shape. And he's incredibly grateful for the food. It's almost amusing watching him eat, like a cat with a bowl of wet food.
After dinner, he's too tired to do anything or talk about what happens next, so you call it a night. You feel bad making him sleep on the couch. You tell him you don't mind him taking the bed. He agrees as long as you stay as well. Neither one of you bother to argue after that.
He passes out quite quickly, sleeping on his stomach with his head facing away from you. You lie on your side next to him, staring at the back of his head. Spending days doing nothing has made it so you're not all that tired. So, you lie in silence, a million thoughts running through your head.
Now that the situation is handled, Sergei will probably send you packing in the morning. That should be a good thing. You can get back to your home, your friends, your job. No criminals after your head, no fearing for your life. So, why is part of you reluctant to go?
You're pulled from your thoughts when Sergei stirs, yawning as he turns onto his back. He settles back down, and you think he's fallen asleep again until he turns his head towards you.
You meet his gaze, and for a moment, you're unsure what to do. You think about pretending you usually sleep with your eyes open to make up for the staring.
But all that proves unnecessary when he smiles and asks, "You okay?"
"Yeah," you reply. "Just not that tired."
Sergei nods, also turning on his side to face you. "I'm sorry you got caught up in all this."
"No, don't be," you say. "None of it was your fault."
"Still, I know it wasn't ideal, having to deal with something like this. And having to deal with me," he says.
"Dying wouldn't have been ideal," you tell him. "And I've been hiding out here the whole time, doing nothing. If anything, you're like my guardian angel."
He laughs, "That's one way to put it."
You smile back, and the two of you fall into a moment of silence.
"Thanks for looking after the place, by the way," he says.
"What? You mean leeching off of you for four days?" you reply.
He lets out an amused scoff. "I mean for cleaning up and making dinner. Especially the dinner part."
You nod. "It's the least I could do."
"I don't think I've had a proper home-cooked meal in years," he says. "The last time must have been when I still lived with my mother."
You pause for a moment, taking in the information. "No other cooks in the family?"
"No, my father never cooked," he replies. "He would make some poor, overworked chef do it."
You hum in response. "So, you've got low standards? That's a good thing for me then."
Sergei chuckles, appreciating your comment. The two of you stay awake for a while longer. Sergei tells you more about his childhood, his family, the accident that changed him, and his life after he left to be on his own. You also tell him about your past, which paled in comparison to his, but he seemed to appreciate it regardless.
His hand wanders under the sheets as the two of you talk, coming to rest on your waist. His thumb idly strokes your side. He listens to you intently and laughs at any funny parts you share. As his touch grows bolder, he pulls you closer, moving his arm to wrap around you.
You happily accept his embrace. Soon, the warmth of being in his arms and the comforting sound of his voice lull you to sleep. Sergei watches as you drift off. Out like a light. Adorable.
His mind thinks back to the first night you met. He remembers how scared you were, how you looked at him when your life hung in the balance. He felt sorry for you, a poor woman caught up in a mess that wasn't hers.
Sergei doesn't know why you trusted him so quickly, but he's glad you did. He's glad that you're here now with him. He's glad for it all. He realises then how nice it is to have someone to come home to. Someone who cares. Someone he can talk to other than his pilot or his brother.
He wonders what you think. He hopes you feel something similar. You must, right? Though there's a very good chance you think he's a lunatic, and you've just been humouring him. But he tells himself not to overthink, closing his eyes and holding you a little tighter as he waits for sleep.
When you wake in the morning, Sergei is already up, preparing a simple breakfast for the two of you. You eat together, engaging in light conversation. Despite your unspoken reluctance to leave, you know you must return to your life sooner or later.
He helps you pack up after breakfast, and you head to the airstrip. Sergei's pilot picks you both up, and you sleep most of the way back on the aircraft. After a smooth ride, you finally make it back home.
Sergei goes with you all the way back to your place. You open the front door and take a look around. Everything is how you left it, thankfully. Getting back to see your home trashed would have really soured your mood. You step in, place your bag down and let out a sigh. You're ready to continue sleeping, but your stomach rumbling redirects your priority.
Sergei leans against the door frame, watching you. He must have heard the evidence of your hunger because he chuckles. You turn to send him a glare, but he speaks up first.
"If you're up for it, I know a place. Good food, great music," Sergei says.
"Really? I thought you'd be happy to finally get rid of me," you reply.
Sergei snorts, shaking his head. "Quite the opposite, actually. I haven't actually gotten to spend that much time with you."
You're tempted, very tempted. But you pretend not to be. "As long as it's not in the middle of nowhere in a foreign country."
He laughs. "It's not. It's a normal restaurant. I promise."
You let out a sigh, feigning exasperation. "Alright, I trust you."
Sergei grins, pushing himself off the door frame. "Great, let's go."
86 notes · View notes
pedroscurls · 1 day ago
Text
playing with fire (one-shot)
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summary: wyatt (aka, jamie) always had one thing on his mind: money. so after he and jonathan part ways, he meets you - a woman that suddenly makes him realize that there's more to life than treachery, manipulation, and violence. but when he has another chance at getting more money than he's ever had before, he goes back to his old ways... and you're more than willing to help him in any way possible. pairing: wyatt bose (jamie getz) x fem!reader content warnings: EXPLICIT CONTENT 18+ MDNI, light dom/sub dynamic, possessiveness, violence - mentions of murder, blood, wyatt is very rough, light power imbalance in the beginning, manhandling, light choking, brief orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, unprotected p in v, multiple creampies (oops), one scene of a breeding kink, multiple scenes of oral (m and f receiving), fingering, spanking, marking, no use of y/n. word count: 13.9k (oops - i got distracted) a/n: ok y'all, this is just complete filth. hugh plays such a good bad guy (i really want him to play more roles like this bc damn) and that one fucking line where he says "oh, what i'm gonna do to you" DID things to me jfc. anyway, please heed the warnings and if you do decide to read this, hope you enjoy! had to end it with a happy ending obviously 🙂‍↕️
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WELCOME TO THE CLUB — You didn’t know how you ended up here. You had just broken up with your boyfriend of two years after realizing that you were just settling for a relationship that you were no longer happy in. At this age, you should have already been married, should have already become a mother – it was something that your own family liked to remind you of what you’ve been missing. 
But that never did appeal to you. You didn’t want to become a mother, didn’t want to be married. Your family had originally hoped you would find someone to settle down with, someone to change your mind and they had thought your ex-boyfriend was that person, but… Things had become redundant. Boring. You spent most days daydreaming what it would be like to live a life you wanted. 
And the sex – well, you were always left disappointed because he just couldn’t get you to come. No matter how hard he tried. So, you resorted to your own vibrator in hopes to relieve the pressure and tension that you knew you couldn’t get with him. 
He wasn’t a bad man – in fact, he was perfect. He just wasn’t perfect for you. 
And now, you’re sitting at the edge of the bed in a hotel room that you paid for, waiting for this stranger to arrive. You had met a woman one night at the bar who had let you know of an exclusive club that she was in, a club that piqued your interest. You had all of the information written down and every day for the next month, you reviewed it every night. Never taking the initiative to finally be part of this club. 
Until tonight. 
You were tired of using your vibrator. Tired of trying to meet other men at bars, only to be disgusted by their behavior before they could even get to your front door. 
So, you reviewed the sticky note with all of the information the woman had told you about – the initiator pays for the hotel room, no names are exchanged, and no rough play. You weren’t sure what to expect when you finally called a number that she had given you, hearing his voice from the other end of the phone – it was deep, gruff. You spent the next ride to the hotel imagining what he would look like, pairing his voice with the image you conjured up of this man. 
You’re pulled out of your thoughts when you hear a knock on the door. You suddenly feel self-conscious, nervous – this is your first time in this club and you didn’t want to disappoint. With a deep breath, you finally stand up and walk to the door. Gripping the handle, you slowly open it to see a man dressed in an all black suit (no tie) and one of the most charming smiles you’ve ever seen. He wastes no time in eyeing you up and down, taking note of the short black satin robe that is loosely wrapped around your otherwise naked frame. 
“Hi,” he smiles. “Mind if I come in?” 
You nod and open the door even further for him to cross the threshold. He steps in and winks in your direction, catching his gaze on your cleavage. Once he’s fully inside, you place the “do not disturb” placard on the outside handle and then shut the door. 
“This is my first time,” you blurt out, walking back to the bed and finding your spot on the corner of the mattress. “I know the rules. No names. No rough play. Other rules can be established between us and–”
He turns around and gazes down at you, hands in his pockets and that same charming smile lining his lips. “First time, huh?” 
“In this club, at least. Not the first time ever.” 
“Shame,” he eyes your legs when you cross one over the other, the robe lifting to reveal more of your skin. “Would’ve been nice to be your first ever.” 
You feel more confident with the way he’s staring at you. Slowly, you bring your hands to the knot at your robe and begin to undo it. “We could…” you bite your lower lip, the knot loosening completely as you lean back against your forearms to reveal your exposed front for him. “Pretend?” You finish. 
He lets out the most animalistic growl that you’ve ever heard come out of a man. In two strides, he’s standing between your legs, hands still in his pockets as he gazes at your breasts down your abdomen and to the apex of your thighs. 
“No fun in that,” he finally answers. 
“No?” You ask, pulling your lower lip between your teeth as you let your eyes take in his frame. You can see the bulge beneath his black slacks, only fueling more of your confidence. “You don’t like to roleplay?” 
“I’d much rather have the real thing.” 
“You didn’t answer my question though,” you reply. “Do you not like to roleplay?” 
His gaze darkens as he finally pulls one of his hands out of his pockets and you see just how large it is when he lightly splays it across your abdomen, sliding it further upwards between your breasts. His touch is soft, but you can feel the calluses, can feel the roughness. 
“I’ll tell you what I do like,” he whispers huskily. 
“Yeah? What’s that?” You whimper, feeling his thumb brush against your nipple before he brings his hand further up to splay against the side of your neck. Slowly, he moves his hand to the back of your head and grabs a fistful of your hair, tugging it with just the right amount of pressure for you to tilt your head back, exposing your neck and throat for him. 
“I like to be in control,” he says quietly, leaning down until his lips are near your ear. 
“Thought one of the rules was no rough play…” you point out, eyes fluttering shut as you feel his soft lips begin to nip at your earlobe. 
“We can make our own rules, baby.” 
“My first time in this club and you’re already getting me to break the rules,” you smile, moving one hand to grab onto the lapel of his blazer. 
Instead, he grabs both of your hands and pins them above your head. His grip around your wrists tighten as he pushes them into the mattress, staring into your eyes. His nose brushes against yours as the hand in your hair instead moves to cover your breast. He kneads the flesh into the pit of his palm, feeling you arch your back into his touch. 
“Something tells me you like breaking the rules,” he whispers, his hot breath fanning against your lips. “Am I right?” 
“Never had someone to break the rules with,” you whimper, feeling him pinch your nipple between his thumb and index finger. 
He smirks at that, feeling suddenly territorial over you. He pulls back enough to gaze down at you, eyes scanning every inch of your face as he commits it to memory. The way your eyes stare at him with a kind expression, giving him your undivided attention. He isn’t used to this, isn’t used to being with someone like you. You’re staring at him like he’s the only person that matters in this world and he doesn’t realize how much he craves that, how much he’s going to crave you. 
“You want someone to break the rules with?” he asks, moving his hand from your breast down your abdomen and between your legs. 
“As long as it’s with you,” you answer almost immediately. 
Wyatt (Jamie) growls at that and breaks his own rule by pressing his lips firmly against your own. Since he joined this club, he never kissed the person he was with. It seemed almost too personal, too intimate to be shared amongst strangers. In the last fifteen minutes of meeting you, he’s already yearning for more, already planning for ways to have you his. Only his. 
Your hands move to his hair, tangling your fingers into his locks as your lips move slowly against his. He groans against you, your lips so soft and inviting. 
He has to pull away, has to gather his thoughts because he’s losing control and he never loses control. Once he stands upright, he pushes off his jacket and reaches down for his belt, undoing it as he watches you scramble up further onto the bed, sliding the robe off your entire frame. He can feel his cock straining in his pants and when he finally undoes the belt, zipper, and button of his pants, he pushes it down his legs with his boxers and kicks it off to the side. 
He smirks to himself, seeing your eyes gaze down at his cock that springs at attention. He holds onto his base, veins throbbing and tip leaking with precome. 
“You’d do anything I’d ask, wouldn’t you?” Wyatt (Jamie) asks, grabbing your ankle and tugging you back to the edge of the mattress. “You’d be a good girl, listen to what I tell you to do–”
“Yes,” you say almost breathlessly. You don’t know if this is how it’s like with every person you’ll meet in this club, but he’s going to leave a really good impression on you. He’s awakening something inside of you that you’ve suppressed for so long, unsure if you’ll ever get the chance to live out the sex life you’ve always yearned for, but now he’s here – whoever he is – giving you the chance to have a much more exciting sex life. 
“Don’t interrupt me,” he growls, hand moving to your jaw. His gaze darkens, tries to search for any hesitation in your eyes, but instead, he sees a sense of willingness, a glimmer of obedience. 
“I’m sorry, sir.” 
Sir. He grins at that. 
“Such a fast learner,” he whispers, using his hand to guide his tip to your slickened heat. “Now, be a good girl and ask me nicely.” 
You bite your lower lip, staring into his eyes as you feel his warm tip press against your opening. You clench around nothing, whimpering in protest as you lift your hips impatiently off the bed. His grip around your jaw tightens. 
“Be a good girl and ask nicely,” he repeats, voice deeper, more demanding. 
“Please,” you whine out. 
“Please what?” he growls. 
“Goddammit, please fuck me!” you answer impatiently, hands reaching down to take matters into your own hands. 
He lets out a dark laugh and shakes his head, releasing his hold on your jaw to grab your hands once more, pinning them roughly to the mattress. His grip around your wrists tighten as he stares into your eyes, that same charming smile on his lips. “Am I going to have to spend the entire fucking night teaching you manners?” 
“N–No,” you whimper. “Please, I’m sorry. I just– Fuck, I need you.”
“Then… Ask. Fucking. Nicely.” he repeats. 
“Please, sir,” you moan. “Please, can you–” you gasp quietly, feeling the head of his cock push into your tight heat. When you can’t seem to find your words, he pulls out of you and smirks. 
“Continue, baby.” 
“Please,” you mumble. “C–Can you fuck me, please?” 
“Please what?”
“Sir.” 
Wyatt (Jamie) grins in accomplishment and slams into you without warning, feeling your warm heat encompass his throbbing cock. You’re so tight, so wet that sliding into you is so effortless. Your back arches as you feel every inch of his length press against your walls, a painful stretch to accommodate his size. 
And for the rest of the night, you both remain entangled in each other’s limbs, only leaving the bed to have him bend you over the dresser or to ride him in the small loveseat in the corner. 
When morning rolls around, you’re already dressed in your normal clothes and so is he. It was a night to remember – this club had initially made you anxious, but now, you’re looking forward to the next time you’ll get to meet another stranger. 
Wyatt (Jamie), on the other hand, makes sure to add your number to his phone. His mind drifts to the possibility of you being with other men – even women – in this exclusive club and he feels a sudden sense of jealousy wash over him. He reaches down and grips your hip, pulling you to him and leaning down to capture your lips with his own. He hopes that he’s made a lasting impression that no other man would ever compare to him.
Slowly, you’re the one that pulls away – a small smile lining your beautiful face and eyes gazing at him once more with such kindness. 
“I hope I see you around,” you finally say, biting your lower lip. 
“I’m sure you will,” he says with confidence. “I’ll make sure of it.”
“We don’t know each other’s names,” you let out a quiet laugh. “And I’m sure you have other women that call you–”
“You jealous?” he teases with a grin.
“And if I said I was?” 
He clears his throat quietly. “Then I’d say tough shit,” he answers. “Deal with it.” 
Your face falls momentarily, but you recover quickly and lean in to peck his lips lightly. “Well, good thing I’m not jealous then. I’m eager to meet other men after last night.”
He tightens his jaw and brings a hand up to grab another fistful of your hair. You whimper quietly, hands moving to grip his shoulders. “When you fuck those other men,” he whispers, moving his lips to your ear. “You better be thinking about me.”
Your eyes flutter shut. “Not unless there’s another man who does it better than you.” 
He growls at that, turning you around and bending you over the dresser. He wastes no time in lifting the ends of your dress over your hips as he kicks your legs apart. Wyatt (Jamie) undoes his zipper and reaches into his slacks to pull out his hardening cock – giving it one, two, three strokes before he pushes into you from behind. 
Your hands reach out to grab onto the edges of the dresser, the grip around it so tight that your knuckles turn white. You hadn’t expected that kind of reaction of him and certainly didn’t expect him to fuck you yet again – especially since you both should already have left the hotel, last night’s events the only thing to remember each other by. 
Instead, he’s fucking relentlessly into you from behind, his balls slapping against you. This time, he doesn’t care about making you come first. He wants you – no, needs you to understand that there will never be anyone like him. That you are meant for him, made for him. Only him. 
He reaches down and grabs your hands, pinning them against your lower back as he slams into you. You squirm back against him, the edge of the dresser digging into your hips that you’re sure will leave another mark on your body. 
“You’re mine,” he groans aloud, tossing his head back as he uses your tight walls to bring him closer to his own release. “You’ll only ever be mine.”
“Y–Yes!” you moan loudly, your arousal dripping out of you. The sounds of his skin slapping against yours mix in with the wet squelching noises coming from between your legs – it echoes throughout the hotel room. 
“Fucking say it,” he demands, using his free hand to grab your hair and pull you upright. “Say it. Say I’m the only one. Say you’ll only ever think of me. Say you’re mine.”
“I–I’m yours!” you moan, his hand moving from your hair to pull down the front of your dress. He covers your breast with his large hand, squeezing it tightly as he thrusts into you repeatedly. “I–I’ll only ever think of you, fuck, please!” 
“Please what?” he groans into your ear. “Tell me what you need, baby.”
“Need to come!” 
Wyatt (Jamie) groans and empties his seed into you, your walls milking every last drop he has to give you. He pulls out and growls at the sight of his release trickling down the inside of your legs. You’re trembling, hands reaching out to rest on the dresser for stability once he releases his hold on you. He tucks himself back into his slacks and gives your ass a rough slap, smirking to himself. 
“Wait, but–” you whimper in protest, turning around slowly to face him with furrowed brows. “I didn’t–I didn’t come.”
“That’s too bad, isn’t it?” he smirks, grabbing his phone and keys from his pocket. 
“Are you really going to leave me like this?” 
He steps towards you and cups your cheek lightly, staring into your eyes. “You know my number, baby. Give it a call when you need me.” 
“Maybe I’ll call someone else,” you pout, walking away from him to go into the bathroom, cleaning yourself up from the mess he’s made between your legs. 
He narrows his eyes and tilts his head. He’s trying not to let this get to him, to let you get to him, but he can’t help it. He clears his throat and walks towards the door of the bathroom, watching you toss the toilet paper into the trash as you make yourself more presentable. 
“Maybe next time,” you begin to say, walking past him and towards your bag that’s resting on the mattress. “Maybe next time you’ll be the one that should be good for me.” 
He chuckles at that. He feels his feet glued to the floor as he watches you walk towards the door of the hotel room. “Don’t think that’s how this works, baby.” 
“Guess we’ll see next time then, hm?” you throw him a smile over your shoulder and open the door. Before walking out into the hallway, you turn to him and nod in his direction. “Thank you, by the way. For last night. For what happened just a few minutes ago.”
He nods, feeling an unfamiliar warmth blossom in his chest. “You made it easy, baby. Welcome to the club.” 
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MEETING “WYATT BOSE” — The next time you see him, it’s unexpected. You’re working at the local library, reading a book at the front desk when he walks in. The same charming smile, a confidence and swagger that he walks with. His eyes scan the building, unsure of exactly what he’s looking for, but he walks further into the library and disappears into one of the aisles. It makes your heart race even faster as your mind drifts to the night you shared with him almost six months ago. You had been more regularly part of this club now – men now giving you a call instead of the other way around. 
He was right, though. Every other man you had been with him after him wasn’t the same. Sure, it was by far better sex than what you would have had with your ex-boyfriend, but it never was quite as amazing as your first time with him. Even as you came, you imagined him. 
You stand from the front desk, telling your coworker that you were going to put some books away. Truthfully, it was just an excuse to find him – the stranger that had left a lasting impression on you. 
You’re pushing a cart of books, going through each aisle. You’re distracted, putting two books away in its appropriate place and then glancing around to see if you can even get a glimpse of him. It feels like maybe you might have just imagined him, maybe your mind is playing tricks on you. 
With a heavy sigh, you round the corner and see him standing with his arms crossed over his chest. He’s wearing yet another suit and that same fucking charming smile lining his beautiful lips. He’s gazing at you with an already darkened gaze. 
“Well, hello you.” 
“It’s really you,” you whisper, gripping the handle of the cart. 
“You never called again.” 
“Hm,” you answer. “I never received a call from you either and I saw you save my number that night, so I know you had–”
He steps towards you, removing one hand from his pocket to gently brush his thumb across your cheekbone. “You’ve been very popular, from what I’ve been hearing.” 
You clear your throat, feeling a quiet gasp escape your lips at his touch. “Maybe not that popular if you never called.” 
He chuckles, thumb moving lower to brush against your lower lip. “You miss me, baby?” 
“No,” you lie. 
He just smirks. “You’re such a fucking liar.” He grips your chin and pulls you to him. He removes his other hand from his pocket and lifts it up to gently brush against your nametag. Now he knows your name – another rule broken. 
“Pretty name,” he whispers. 
“You gonna tell me yours?” 
He grins, hand moving from your chin to splay against the side of your neck instead. His thumb brushes against your throat down towards your collarbone. “No names, remember?” 
“Well, that isn’t fair though, is it? You know mine.” 
“Didn’t ask you though. You’re wearing a nametag.” 
“What if I say please?”  
“Would you get on your knees and then say please?” He asks. He’d be lying if he said that he didn’t think about you, didn’t think about that night you shared. 
“You’ll have to give me a call if you want me on my knees in front of you, baby.” 
He smiles to himself, tilts his head as he gazes into your eyes. Since Jonathan had let him go freely almost a year ago, Wyatt (Jamie) had tried to change his ways, tried to live a better life, but old habits die hard. It wasn’t until he met you that he started thinking about things other than money. 
How could one person leave such a lasting impression on him? 
“Just because we’re in public doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t take you in the bathroom–”
“If you want me that badly, then give me a call.”
His eyes narrow as he moves his grip around your throat. He pushes you against the dark corner and moves his free hand against the wall near your head, staring deeply into your eyes. “Thought we established that you don’t interrupt me.” 
“Maybe I need another reminder on how to be a good girl,” you whisper, feeling his grip around your throat tightening, leaving you almost gasping for air. 
He grins, loosening his grip around your throat. He likes that you can match him, can leave him speechless like this. “Wyatt.” 
“What?”
“Name’s Wyatt.” He lies, dropping his hand to your cheek and slowly he leans in, lips lightly brushing against yours. “I’m gonna kiss you now, unless you want me to give you a call for that,” he teases. 
You don’t answer. Instead, you reach up to grab him by the end of his tie and pull him into you. You press your lips firmly against his own as his hand slides to cup the back of your neck. He growls lowly against you, sliding his leg between your own. 
He’s missed the feeling of your lips, has missed the sounds you make. He feels you roll your hips against his strong thigh and he smirks, pulling away from the kiss to look down at you. Your pupils are blown out, lips slightly parted, and gaze filled with want, with desire, with need. 
“Wyatt,” you whisper. 
His smirk falters momentarily at the sound of his “name” leaving your lips and it’s in that moment he contemplates what it would sound like if you had said his real name. 
“I’ll give you a call,” he says. “Tonight. I’ll give you a call tonight.” 
“And if you don’t?” 
“Then you know my number,” he winks. 
You bite your lower lip and pull him back to you, the front of his body now pressing firmly against yours. He keeps his hand pressed against the wall above your head as he stares into your eyes. 
“What?” He asks quietly. 
You smile, shaking your head and leaning up to press your lips gently on his cheek. “Hope I get to see you tonight, Wyatt,” you whisper into his ear. “Until then, I suppose.” 
Wyatt had given you a call just a couple of hours after seeing you. When the phone rang and you heard his voice on the other end of the line, an excitement bubbled within you. 
Excitement. Anticipation. Yearning. 
And now, you’re entering the lobby of the hotel that Wyatt had told you he would be at tonight. You look around and bite your lower lip when you see him standing there with a small smile. He’s wearing a simple black t-shirt over a coat and black slacks. He nods in your direction and you walk over to him, biting your lower lip nervously. It feels like it’s your first time all over again. 
“Meeting me in the lobby?” You tease. “That’s new.”
“Well, consider me excited to see you.” He grabs your jacket and pulls you to him, feeling your hands reach out to rest on his chest. “Been thinking about you.” 
“Oh yeah?” You ask, moving your hands from his chest to wrap around his shoulders. 
“Yeah,” he moves his lips to your ear, gently nipping at your earlobe. “Don’t think I forgot about you interrupting me earlier,” he growls lowly. “And how maybe I need to fucking remind you that I’m in control here.” 
You bite your lower lip and shut your eyes, tilting your head back to expose more of your neck for him. He takes the hint, moves his lips down the side of your neck with gentle kisses. “I don’t think you have control after not calling me for six months.” 
Wyatt (Jamie) growls. He tightens his jaw and bites down on the side of your neck, sucking on it roughly to leave a mark. He hears you let out a quiet whimper and he pulls away, looking down at you. “Keeping track of how long we haven’t seen each other, huh?” 
You narrow your eyes. “Just a guess. I have been pretty busy with other men and–”
Wyatt (Jamie) glances at the growing mark that’s darkening on the side of your neck. He feels suddenly territorial again. “Hm, we’re not gonna be talking about other men, are we?” 
“That depends. Will you be as good as the first time?” 
He chuckles, his gaze darkening even further. He’s finding that he enjoys this little game that you play with him. He leans in and whispers huskily into your ear. “We both know that you’ve been thinking of me while you were with those other men. Now, let’s get upstairs before I take you where you fucking stand and show these people who exactly you fucking belong to.” 
You nod, too obediently, and pull away from him slowly. You take his hand in his and lace your fingers with his own. The action takes him off guard, because for a split second, you see a surprised look flash across his features. He squeezes your hand and takes you to the elevators. 
Wyatt. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t tried to look him up earlier that day. You didn’t know his last name, but how common was the name Wyatt anyway? Apparently very fucking common because every Wyatt that exists showed up in your search except him. You knew you were playing a dangerous game – trying to get to know more about him, to find ways to spend more time with him outside of this. 
He pulls you out of your thoughts by releasing your hand and instead resting his own on your lower back. He steps into the elevator with you and presses the top floor, leaning back against the railing as he looks at you. Really looks at you. 
You’re biting your lower lip, eyes staring up at the numbers at the top of the elevator as it highlights for each floor you’re passing. Wyatt (Jamie) is starting to feel an unfamiliar warmth settle in the pit of his stomach. He has to wonder if this was how Jonathan and S felt for each other – the possibility of something more real. 
For once, he imagines sharing his life with someone else, with you. He imagines that it’d be filled with a lot of laughter, intense intimacy… but he also believes that he’d feel a sense of belonging with you – something that he’s been lacking for most of his life. 
But then he thinks about having to tell you the truth, having to be honest with you and with himself. His name isn’t Wyatt. Not only has he lied to you, but he’s also hiding the fact that he’s a dangerous man. Manipulative. Conniving. Murderous. Why would anyone like you ever be okay with someone like him? 
When the elevator doors finally open to the top floor, he watches you step out and waits for him patiently, eyes lighting up with a cute fucking smile on your face. There’s a part of him that wants to spend the entire night just getting to know you. He yearns to know more about you… aside from the information he’s already found when searching you up online. 
He was able to find you pretty quickly – an outdated Facebook account, but a more active Instagram account instead. Facebook tells him that you’re newly single, having gotten out of a relationship almost six months ago, which makes him wonder if you were still in a relationship or not when you two first met. He also knows you’re a librarian, but instagram tells him so much more about you. 
You like going to coffee shops, taking pictures of the different cups of coffee you order. He also finds that you like working out, being outdoors, and being active. You’re family oriented – he’s noticed from the handful of pictures you’ve posted with your family on birthdays and holidays. 
As Wyatt (Jamie) had searched you online earlier that day, he continued to imagine how he would fit into your life. And every time he tries to imagine it, he’s always left with a tug in the pit of his stomach that reminds him that as long as you don’t know the truth about him, he can never fit into your life. 
“You gonna show me where to go?” You ask, finally pulling him out of his thoughts. 
He lets out a quiet breath and flashes you a broad grin, slipping back into the same persona that you’re used to. “That eager, huh?” 
“I mean, you called me so we’re on my time.” 
“Oh, we are? You got somewhere else to be?” He walks over to you, wrapping his arms around you from behind as he leads you to the door at the end of the hall. 
“And what if I do?” You ask, leaning back into him. “What if there’s another person I’m supposed to meet, hm?” 
He reaches over to swipe his hotel key card over the door and opens it for you. He pushes you inside roughly, shutting the door behind him as he turns you around and pushes you against the door. He hears you let out a gasp, eyes staring into his own and filled with desire. 
“You just like to push me, don’t you?” He asks, moving his hand to wrap around your throat. He sees the corner of your lips lift upwards. “You think this is a game, baby?” 
You nod slowly, feeling his grip tighten. “Mmm,” you mumble out. 
Wyatt (Jamie) darkens his gaze, stepping up to you as he moves his lips to your ear. “You fucking belong to me,” he whispers. “Do you understand?” 
You nod again, feeling the wetness begin to pool between your legs. “D–Does that mean you belong to me too?” You manage to whisper, his grip around your tight lessening to let you speak, to let you take a breath. 
He stares down at you, feels his resolve faltering for a moment at your question. Instead of answering, he drops his hand from your through and leans in to press his lips firmly against your own. It’s urgent, rushed, messy. 
Your arms wrap around him, bringing your hands to his hair and running your fingers through his locks. You part your lips and feel his tongue move past your lips  – your tongue now dancing with his, matching the intensity of this kiss. His hands move to reach around and grip your ass in his large hands. He feels his pants become increasingly tighter as he pushes against you. 
Pulling back, he stares down at you and narrows his eyes. You’re staring up at him with a dazed look on your face as he takes your hand and brings you further into the hotel room. He removes his jacket and sets it on the chair off to the side. 
“On your knees,” he says, turning back around to look at you. He reaches down and undoes his belt, a smirk lining his lips. 
You arch your brow and tilt your head, removing your own jacket as you stand before him in a pair of jeans and a white low v-neck. 
“Don’t make me tell you again,” he growls, eyes taking in your frame. How can you be so beautiful when dressed so casually? 
“Can I take my pants off first?” You ask quietly, hands reaching down to begin undoing the zipper and button of your jeans. 
“Since you asked so nicely,” he nods in your direction and watches you begin to push your jeans down your legs, clad in a white v-neck and a pair of white panties. Then, you stand in front of him and slowly kneel down until you’re on your knees in front of him. 
“Look beautiful like this,” he points out, bringing a hand down to cup your cheek, brushing his thumb gently across your skin. He pushes down his pants and boxers, his cock now springing to attention in front of you. He kicks off his pants and boxers to the side, using his free hand to take hold of his base. He steps forward and glides the head of his length across your lips, his precome smearing across your lips. “Fuck,” he growls. 
Slowly, you part your lips for him, darting your tongue out to slide across his tip. He loses his resolve for a moment, sliding his tip past your lips and feeling you lap at his precome. He moves his hand from his base to grip around your hair, pushing his hips forward so that more of his cock disappears in your mouth. 
Your eyes gazes up at him, hands moving to rest on his thighs to prevent him from moving any further. His tip touches the back of your throat and you pull back to take a deep breath. He stares down at you and releases his hold on your hair to reach down and grab the ends of his shirt. Once he tosses it aside, he pushes back into your mouth and places both hands on your head. He hears you gagging and holds you firmly against him, feeling your saliva begin to coat his entire length. When he pulls back, he stares down at you and sees your lips swollen and parted for him, chest heaving as you try to take a deep breath. 
“Tell me,” he groans, pushing his hips forward for his cock to slide into your mouth. “Tell me that you’ve thought about me when you’ve been with all those other men. Tell me that you always think about me,” he groans, thrusting his hips forward. “Tell me that you’ll only ever be with me.”
He pulls back and watches you catch your breath, nodding up at him in response. 
“Say it,” he says. 
“It will only ever be you, Wyatt,” you answer honestly. “Even when I’m alone, all I think about is you. Who you are, what you do, how you can fit into my life,” you admit, slowly standing up and grabbing his shoulder to push him into the bed. He falls back as he looks up at you, his gaze softening momentarily. 
You pull your shirt over your head and undo your bra, completely exposed and bare for him as you straddle his waist and reach down to grab a hold of his cock. Slowly, you slide down his length and let out a quiet moan, his girth and size stretching you only in a way that he can. “I think I could fall in love with you,” you whisper almost inaudibly as you push yourself further onto him until you’re firmly sitting on his lap, his manhood sheathed within your tight, warm, and wet heat. 
Wyatt (Jamie) could have come right there. He stares up at you, taking note of your head tilted back with your arms pressing against his chest. You’re moving your hips slowly in a forward and backward motion, but all his eyes can focus on is you. 
I think I could fall in love with you. It lingers in his mind, mixes in with the sounds of your moans. He sits up, arms wrapping around your waist as he guides you to move forward in his lap. He leans in and presses his lips against the side of your neck, nipping and teeth grazing across your skin. He’s obsessed with you.
“Wyatt,” you moan, arms wrapping around his shoulders as the hair at his base brushes against your bundle of nerves. 
Something takes over him and moves a hand to your throat, applying just the right amount of pressure. He doesn’t want to hear you say that name because it isn’t actually his. He thrusts his hips upwards, your moan coming out almost inaudibly to the tight grip he has around your throat. 
“You’re only ever going to be mine,” he growls. The sounds of skin slapping against skin echoes throughout the hotel room and you reach up to wrap your hand around his wrist. “Ain’t no one gonna be with you but me.” He presses his feet against the floor and slams upwards into you. He releases his hold on your throat and hears you take a deep breath. 
“A–As long as I’m the only one you’ll be with too,” you answer through a loud moan. 
He slowly rolls you onto your back and slams into you. His thrusts pick up in speed, the tightness in his lower abdomen beginning to build and build as he uses you at his disposal. He’s afraid of what this could be, afraid of what you could mean to him, because he can imagine a life with you. He doesn’t answer you though, determined to fuck the idea out of you. He’s sure that once he tells you the truth that you’re going to want nothing to do with him and he isn’t sure that he’s ready to let go of you just yet. 
“I’m gonna come,” you moan, feeling his hands grip your wrists to pin them above your head. 
“Yeah, you are,” he groans. “Fucking come for me, baby.” 
That’s all it takes. You shut your eyes and arch your back, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix repeatedly as your body begins to tremble. Your walls tighten even further around him and his hips stutter, unable to hold back himself as he releases into you abruptly. He pulls out of you and watches his come trickle out of you, the sight causing him to grab ahold of his length and pushing into you once more. 
“Wyatt!” you exclaim, reaching down to push against his lower abdomen. “Wait- Baby, wait–”
“No,” he groans, grabbing your hands once more and holding them firmly against the mattress. He continues to thrust into you, looking down at where you’re connected and seeing his come mix in with your arousal. “Fuck, you look good like this.” 
Your eyes flutter, squirming against him as the sensations become too overwhelming. “Wyatt, please… I can’t–”
“You were made for me,” he interrupts, using his free hand to draw circles against the bundle of your nerves. “And only for me. D’ya understand me?”
“Y–Yes!” you can feel your body giving way to him as yet another orgasm approaches. “Wyatt–”
“It’s Jamie,” he corrects. “Call me Jamie.”
Your brows furrow in confusion and stare into his eyes, but he looks determined. Your mind is all over the place and it doesn’t help that he’s still thrusting into you with his thumb circling your clit. “J– Jamie!” you moan loudly and he groans to himself, pulling out of you to watch your body shake through another orgasm. 
He moves to lie on his back and bites his lower lip, glancing over in your direction. “That’s my real name.” 
You’re breathing heavily, trying to catch your breath as you slowly move to lie on your side. “Why’d you give me a fake name?” 
He clears his throat and looks down at you. Quickly, he comes up with an excuse and feels your fingertips run along his chest. “Guess I was still a bit hesitant giving you my real name at the time.”
You nod slowly and then lean up to kiss his cheek. “That’s fair. I’d probably give you a fake name too if you hadn’t seen my nametag.”
Jamie lets out a relieved sigh and then wraps his arm around your shoulders, bringing you close to his side. 
“I meant it,” you say quietly. “I’d only ever wanna be with you… as long as I’m the only one that you’d be with too.”
He tilts his head and glances down at you. “You don’t know what you’re getting into, baby.”
“I’m thinking…” you whisper, slowly moving to straddle his waist again. “I’m thinking I’d do anything for you.”
“You don’t even know me.”
“Then give me a chance to.”
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THE TRUTH AND AGREEMENT — It’s been a week since the last time you’ve seen him. You aren’t sure whether you’re ignoring him or he’s ignoring you. Neither of you have tried to give the other person a call, but despite the things he’s told you, it surprisingly doesn’t deter you from wanting him. 
You’re at work again, reading a book at the front desk when you hear someone clear their throat. Slowly shutting your book and looking up, your eyes slightly widen at the sight of him standing in front of you. He’s dressed more casually today, a black t-shirt underneath a dark colored jacket paired with jeans. His eyes soften at the sight of you as he glances at the clock over your shoulder. 
“What time are you off?” he asks.
“Well, hello to you too.”
“Hi.” he sighs. “What time are you off?” he repeats.
“Not for another few hours. You haven’t reached out,” you answer. 
“Neither did you.”
“I wasn’t sure–” you bite your lower lip. “I’m sorry.”
“Shouldn’t be.” 
“I still want to–”
“Meet me after you get off work?” he interrupts. 
Excitement flickers in your eyes and he lets a small smile line his lips at the sight. “Where?” 
Jamie takes his phone out and hands it to you. It’s his personal phone, not the flip phone that he uses for the club. “I’ll text you.”
You nod and enter your personal phone number as a contact in his phone before you hand it over to him. “I’ll see you soon, Jamie.” 
His eyes gazes up at you at the sound of his name leaving your lips. He isn’t sure why it has so much of an effect on him, why the way you’re smiling at him makes him want to just reach over and kiss you. This isn’t what he usually does – he doesn’t see the same person more than once, at least not if there’s anything that could benefit him. 
He says your name quietly and then looks over his shoulder to see someone standing in line, waiting for him to be done. “I’ll see you soon,” he repeats. 
Stepping off to the side, Jamie watches you interact with the person behind him. He notices the way your eyes light up, your smile so broad and infectious. Even when your eyes meet his momentarily, he feels the faintest feeling of warmth in the pit of his stomach, blossoming further into his chest. 
He doesn’t know what this means, but he really needs to figure it out soon. He needs to gain back control because he fucking hates feeling like this. 
He’s scared. Scared because he finally told you the truth and he isn’t sure if he’s going to lose you because of it. If you do decide that you no longer want this, then Jamie will have to make sure that you don’t talk about it to anyone else… which means having to clean up loose ends. 
Which means having to get rid of you. 
A few hours later, you’re driving to the hotel that Jamie sent you the address for. There’s an excitement bubbling within you, but not because of the possibility of having sex with him again, but because you’ll finally get to know more about him. To anyone else, they’d have run and cut ties with him the moment they found out the truth.
When you park your car in the parking garage, you’re surprised to see Jamie standing near the elevator with his arms in his pockets. You take a deep breath, trying to hide your excitement and the smile that’s itching to spread across your lips when you climb out. He walks over to you and gently takes your hand – a complete difference than what you’re used to with him. 
“Hey,” he says first. 
“Hi,” you answer. 
“Figured we could talk,” Jamie says quietly. “That okay?” 
“Yeah, more than okay.” You can tell he’s nervous, anxious because he won’t meet your eyes and the gentleness and softness he’s displaying isn’t what you’re used to. He’s always been so in control, so rough with you that this makes you a little uneasy. 
Once inside the hotel and elevators, Jamie releases your hand and presses the button to the top floor. Turning around to face you, his eyes take in your frame before he walks closer to you. Slowly, he cages you in between his body and the railing of the elevator, his own hands resting against the railing as he stares into your eyes. 
“You know you shouldn’t even be around me after everything I’ve told you,” he whispers hesitantly. 
Jamie lets out a quiet and shaky breath when he feels your hands come up to rest against his cheeks, thumbs brushing against his jawline. 
“I said I’d do anything for you, Jamie,” you answer. “I know I should leave, shouldn’t even be here with you, but I just–” you bite your lower lip. “I can’t imagine never seeing you again.” 
Before he can say anything, the doors to the elevator open and he pulls away from you. Gently once more, he takes your hand and leads you to the room at the end of the hall where he opens the door for you. He steps inside with you and takes your bag, setting it down on the counter as his hands move to your hips, guiding you further into the room and onto the bed. 
“I’ve killed people before,” he admits out loud. “I’m a greedy man. I’m not– I’m not a good person, but I can promise you that I’d do anything to give you the life that you deserve.” 
Slowly, you turn around and run your hands through his hair. “I should run from you,” you say honestly. “You’re the type of man that people warn women about… toxic, dangerous…” your eyes gaze into his, watching as he stares at you deeply. “But I want you… what does that say about me?” 
Jamie shrugs. “I don’t know,” he answers honestly. “But if you decide that you want this… You’re going to have to commit yourself to me. There’s no leaving this, there’s no leaving me.”
“And if I choose not to want this?”
His jaw tightens. “I think you know what I’ll have to do.”
“Well then, do you need a partner?” you ask with a small smile, biting your lower lip. 
Jamie narrows his eyes, moving his hand to rest on your neck lightly. “I do it alone,” he whispers. “I’d be the one in control. You do what I tell you to do.”
You nod, hand coming up to rest over his wrist. “Y–Yes, sir.”
Sir. 
“So, what do you want?” he asks hesitantly, thumb brushing against your throat.
“You.” you answer immediately. “Whatever that means, I’m in it. I’m in this.”
Jamie lets out a relieved breath and gently tightens his hand around your throat. “I’m the one with the power… I’m the one that tells you where to go, what to do…” 
You nod. “I’ll do anything… as long as I just have you, Jamie.”
His gaze darkens and he releases his hold from you to push you back against the bed. Jamie places a hand on the mattress as he leans down over you, lips brushing against yours. “You don’t call me by my name,” he says. “You never call me by my name from now on.”
“But your name is so–”
He clicks his tongue and roughly rolls you over onto your abdomen. Quickly, he tugs down your skirt with your panties as you lean over the edge of the bed, ass in the air for him. Without hesitation, he brings his hand back only to connect with your ass cheek, the sound of the slap echoing the large hotel room. 
“You don’t talk back either,” he points out. “When you go against what I say, what I tell you, this is punishment.” 
You nod, letting out a quiet whimper as you feel the sting of his slap rush through your entire body. You grip the sheets tightly, looking over your shoulder at him. “Okay…”
He shakes his head and slaps your ass roughly once more, seeing your cheek redden instantly with the imprint of his large hand. “Hmm… Not good enough of an answer.”
“Yes, sir. I don’t talk back. I do what you say. I go where you tell me. I’ll do anything for you.” 
“Good,” he smirks, sliding in two of his thick fingers past your folds. His brows lift upwards at the feel of your slickness and he leans over to whisper into your ear. “You like being punished, hm?” 
“I just like when you touch me,” you moan, the roughness of his fingers thrusting in and out of you causing your toes to curl. It’s painful, the way he’s moving his fingers in and out of your depths so roughly, but you can’t help the way your body reacts to him. 
“Well, it isn’t quite a punishment if you like it then, is it?” he asks, pulling his fingers out of you abruptly. He looks down at his hand, the way your slickness drips down and he brings it to his lips, letting out a low growl at the taste of you. 
“Wait, but–”
He shakes his head and moves to sit on the edge of the bed with you, resting his hands on the mattress as he looks over at you. His eyes move to your backside, can see your slickness along the length of your sex slowly begin to trickle out of you. It glistens under the light and he wants nothing more than to bury his face between your legs, but he can’t. He needs to show some restraint, needs to stay in control. 
“You only see me from now on, are we clear?” he asks, reaching for you to kneel down in front of him. 
You scramble to your feet and drop to your knees between his legs, hands resting on your thighs as you stare up at him. You nod obediently, batting your eyelashes up at him. “Yes, sir.”
“We’re gonna the rule the world, baby,” he grins. “You and me.” He reaches down and cups your cheek, using his free hand to undo the button and zipper of his pants as he lowers it to his ankles. 
Your eyes widen at the sight of his throbbing cock, now fully erect and leaking at the tip. You lick your lips, eager to wrap your lips around him as your hands itch to reach out for him. “I’ll do whatever you want me to do,” you reply. 
“Won’t be easy,” he admits, stroking himself at the sight of you on your knees in front of him. 
“I’ll do whatever it takes,” you answer. “The only thing I need is you.” 
His eyes soften at that. He’s not used to feeling like this – usually, he’d have to negotiate or offer some cut of the money he’d receive, but with you… it’s easy because you don’t want any of those things. You just want him and he can’t help but feel that same warmth in his chest again. He won’t ever admit it out loud, but he’d do anything for you too. 
He doesn’t answer, but instead brings his tip past your lips. You’re eagerly lapping at his precome, sucking his tip as he continues to stroke the base of his length. He groans quietly to himself, pulling back to run his tip across your wet lips. “Such a good girl for me,” he says lowly. “And I think good girls get a reward.” 
“Please…” 
“And begging too? Yeah, baby, you get a reward.” He gently lifts you back on the bed as he lies back. “Over my face.”
Your eyes widen, clearing your throat anxiously as you do what he says. He moves further up the bed as you settle yourself over him, hands resting on the headframe as his lips hover inches away from your throbbing heat. With one arm, he reaches up and rests it over your waist, bringing you down until your sex is firmly pressed over his mouth. 
“Oh god,” you whimper, hands gripping the headboard of the bed frame. No one’s ever done this before and you’re unsure of how long you’d actually last because his mouth sucks your clit aggressively, tongue flicking against you repeatedly. You feel so vulnerable like this, completely at his mercy. You want to scream his name, but you force yourself not to. 
His eyes flutter closed as his mouth laps at your juices. You’re so wet, dripping down his chin as he moves his lips towards your hole. He flicks his tongue against you as his other hand continues to stroke himself, squeezing the base of his cock at the taste of you. He hums against you, causing a vibration to reverberate through your entire body. 
Your legs are placed at either side of his head and you begin to roll your hips against his face, feeling his tongue flatten along the length of your sex. You look down at him, the look on his face only urging you closer to your orgasm. You lift your hips slightly and he growls, shaking his head as he removes his arm from your waist to thrust two fingers inside of you. He wastes no time in thrusting his fingers as he moves to suck your clit with his mouth, tongue flicking against your bundle of nerves. 
“Baby,” you whimper. “Baby, please… I’m close–” 
His hand around his cock quickens, gripping his base tightly as he feels his own release approach. He feels a tightness in the pit of his stomach begin to build as his free hand continues to pump his fingers in and out of you as his lips pay close attention to your clit. 
Your grip around the headboard tightens until his knuckles turn white from the grip, your body trembling and shaking against him. You lift your hips away from his mouth as his fingers fill you to the knuckle. He smirks up at you, curling his fingers within your walls to help you ride out your orgasm. At the sight of you gripping the headboard, head tilted back and mouth agape, Jamie thrusts his hips slightly off the bed as he finds his own release. His come lands on his shirt, letting out a loud groan. 
Slowly, you lift yourself until his fingers slide out of you and you look over at him, seeing his hand continue to stroke himself. Quickly, you kneel down between his legs and wrap your lips around his tip, sucking the remnants of his come into your mouth and swallowing eagerly. 
He shudders against you, eyes gazing down at you as he slows his strokes, the feeling of your lips and tongue at his tip causing a shiver to run through him.
When his cock finally softens, he sits up and removes his shirt and pulls on his boxers. You bite your lower lip and move to lie down on the bed instead, feeling him lie down with you as his arms wrap around your frame. 
“If I can’t call you by your name,” you whisper quietly. “Can I call you baby instead?” you ask. 
He smiles and leans down to peck your lips lightly. “I like that, baby.” 
You grin and bury your face against his chest. “I think I’m gonna like this life with you.”
He looks down at you, watches your eyes flutter closed as the same warmth blossoms in his chest again. 
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THE CON — It’s been about six months since your agreement with Jamie and you both managed to slip into a routine with each other. It’s almost domestic, how easy your life has entangled itself with his own. Right after the agreement, he tells you to move in with him, having found out that he lives permanently at the hotel, living on the top floor. You don’t disagree with him, instead, you agree and break your lease, moving most of your things to his place within a week. 
He takes you to work, picks you up, and every night, he makes sure to show you just how good of a decision you made with choosing him. You find yourself falling for him more and more every day, but there’s a part of you that’s too afraid to tell him. Afraid because if you admit how you truly felt about him, you aren’t sure how he’s going to react. You know that you’re a liability; at any moment, he can change his mind about you and you’d know that there would be nothing that you can do if that were to ever happen. 
So, you love him in silence. You stare at him lovingly when he’s cooking for you or when he’s working. You go to sleep every night with your arms wrapped around him, focusing on the sound of his breath to lull you to sleep. When he’s too busy, you make sure to cook him dinner so that he remembers to eat. You hope that he can see how much you’d do for him, how much you’d sacrifice for him. 
You haven’t seen the type of man he makes himself out to be. He’s sweet, considerate, thoughtful. You wonder if he’s hiding that part of himself from you – the man who’s killed, who’s greedy, who would do anything to make sure that he benefits from it. 
By the time he gets home, you’re seated on the love seat with a book in your hands. It’s late, but you like to stay up and wait for him until he gets home. You see the smile on his face and when he looks over at you, his eyes light up. 
“Hey,” he walks over to you and removes his coat, setting it over the back of the couch as he leans down and kisses the crown of your head.
“Hey, what’s got you smiling?” you tease, looking up at him.
“I found my next job,” he grins and gently takes your book from your hand, setting it on the coffee table as he picks you up and sits in the love seat with you on his lap. “Everything’s going to work out perfectly. In just over a month, we’ll have made more than five million dollars.”
Your eyes widen as you wrap your arm around his shoulders. “F– Five million dollars, baby? Oh my god…”
He nods with a grin. “Five million fucking dollars.” 
“What can I do?” you ask, biting your lower lip. “Can I do anything to help?” 
“Oh baby,” he says, leaning up to peck your lips. “There’s plenty of things you can do to help.” 
“Yeah?” you ask with a hopeful look on your face.
“Yeah, but first…” he bites his lower lip and brings a hand to cup your cheek, leaning in to rest his forehead against yours. “I want you. Gonna spend the entire night showing you how grateful I am of you.” 
You smile, staring deeply into his eyes as you run your hands through his hair. “Baby, I–”
“I know,” he whispers, interrupting you. 
“You know?” 
He nods. “Yeah.”
“Is that okay?” 
Jamie bites the inside of his cheek, eyes gazing into yours. He had noticed the way you would look at him when you thought he wasn’t looking, how much care and love you put into everything that you did for him… The five million dollars payout after this job was not only going to be for him, but also for you and what he can do with the money to make sure you had a life that you deserved. 
He knew that had fallen in love with you too, especially when his mind had drifted to you when he realized the amount of money that he could walk away with. It was no longer just him. You were now in the picture and he can’t imagine his life without you in it now. 
“Yeah, that’s okay, baby,” he finally answers. 
You smile, letting out a breath of relief. Slowly, you move to straddle his lap, continuing to run your fingers through his hair as you begin to roll your hips against his own. You had been dressed in one of his old t-shirts and nothing else, your wetness beginning to stain his pants. 
“You gonna make a mess on these expensive pants, baby?” he asks, hands moving up your thighs. “Because I don’t know how I’d feel about that. These are very expensive.” 
“Then take ‘em off,” you whisper, leaning in to peck his lips. 
“Oh, did we forget who’s the one in control here? The one in charge?” he asks, gripping your hips tightly. 
“I– I’m sorry…” you mumble, ceasing your movements as you lift your hips off his lap. 
He growls lowly, wrapping his arms around your waist and standing up from the love seat. Slowly, he walks you over to the couch and sets you down as he kneels between your legs. He holds your legs open for him, gaze darkening with lust at the sight of your sex glistening with your slickness. 
“The things I’m gonna do to you,” he says with a low tone.
“So, are we clear on the plan again?” he asks, readjusting his black jacket as he stares at you in a skin tight red dress. He lets his eyes rake over your frame, feeling slightly jealous that you’re likely going to be dancing with the man that he’s been getting close to, the man that’s going to be the reason why he’s getting five million dollars. 
“Yes, baby,” you tell him, straightening out your dress. “Buy him a drink, ask him to dance, leave him wanting more.” 
“Good,” he answers, wrapping his arms around you from behind. “Just a dance, nothing else.”
You nod in agreement. “I’m going home with you,” you repeat. “This will just give him the confidence that he lacks and you’ll be there to cheer him on, to get him to trust you even more so than he does now.”
He grins. “Yeah, baby. Good. Good.” 
“Five million dollars for you, right?” you smile.
“For us,” he corrects. “It’s going to be for us,” he admits. 
“I love you,” you whisper quietly, turning around in his arms and bringing a hand to rest on his cheek gently. “Let’s have some fun tonight.”
His heart races at your words and he nods, turning his head to gently press his lips against your palm. He pulls back and then takes your hand, leading you out of the hotel room and towards the elevators. Once at the lobby, he releases your hand and gently kisses your cheek. “I’ll see you at the club, baby.”
You nod and then run your hands down the lapels of his jacket before you turn around on your heel and walk out of the hotel. He looks around the lobby, his hands placed in his pockets as he watches the men in the lobby turn their heads to watch you walk away. He feels a mixture of emotions – jealousy and pride. Pride because you’re his, but jealous because other men are looking at what’s his. 
With a heavy sigh, he stretches his neck and then grabs his phone from his pocket to dial the man’s number. 
Jamie’s leaning back against the seat, drink in hand as he fakes genuine laughter at what the other man’s saying. His eyes scan the room, noticing the splash of red in the midst of neutral dark colors. Your eyes meet his and he smiles, watching as you bite the tip of your straw to sip on your drink. 
Then, he turns his attention back to the other man, listening to him go on and on about his divorce and how he hadn’t been able to meet anyone new. 
“Oh come on, Daniel,” Jamie says with that same charismatic grin on his lips. “A man like you can’t get another woman?”
“To be honest,” he whispers, fidgeting in his seat. “I haven’t been with anyone other than my ex-wife. I doubt a woman would want to be with a man who’s inexperienced like me.” 
“You’d be surprised,” he answers. “Because it looks like that one has been looking at you since we got here.” Jamie points his chin in your direction, watching Daniel turn in his seat to look over at you. 
“No– No way. She’s looking at you.”
Jamie laughs, shaking his head. “Her eyes are all on you and she’s walking over here.” He stands from the bar stool and gently slaps a strong hand over Daniel’s shoulder. “I’m gonna head to the bathroom. You go and have some fun.”
“Wait, but–” 
Jamie’s already walking away by the time you make your way to Daniel. You’re leaning against the counter of the bar, biting your lower lip innocently as you wave your hand to get the bartender’s attention. “His next round is on me,” you tell the bartender with a sweet smile. 
Daniel clears his throat. “I– I– I’m sorry. You didn’t have to do that and–” he loses his words when he feels your soft touch on his forearm, eyelashes batting up in his direction.
“Is it too unconventional for the woman to buy the man a drink?” you tease. 
“N– No,” he stutters. “I’m just not used to women buying a drink for me… or women looking at me in general,” he mumbles under his breath. 
“Well, good thing I’m not like most women.” 
Daniel nods, eyes lingering on your frame. The bartender sets down another drink for him and you lean in, lips near his ear as you whisper over the loud music. “Do you want to dance?” 
“Oh, I–” he clears his throat. “I’m actually here with a friend and if he–”
“I’m sure he’s a big boy who can take care of himself,” you interrupt. “Just one dance? Please?” You can sense his hesitation and you bite your lower lip. You know this wasn’t discussed with Jamie, but your advancements were just not working with Daniel. Slowly, you lean in and gently brush your lips against his cheek. “I promise, I don’t bite… unless you like that.”
Daniel glances at you and then over his shoulder to see Jamie with a dark gaze, but he’s smiling encouragingly at the other man. All it takes is for one nod before Daniel downs the drink and stands up. You look up at him, smiling broadly as his hand immediately darts out to rest on your hip. “It would be very rude of me to deny you one dance,” he says softly. 
“Good,” you smile. “I’d hate to dance by myself.” You lead him to the dance floor, playing with his fingers as he follows you closely from behind. Once on the dance floor, you turn to face him and rest your hands on his shoulders. He’s stiff and anxious around you, slowly moving side to side to the beat of the music. “Relax,” you coo, taking his hands and placing them back on your hips. “It’s just one dance.” Then, you turn your back to him and sway your hips expertly to the sound of the song that filters the entire club. 
He bites his lower lip and pulls you flush against his front, his hands gripping your hips as he watches your backside brush against his front repeatedly. 
You reach around him and tangle your hand in his hair, head tilting back to rest on his shoulder as you keep your eyes focused in front of you. Jamie’s staring directly at you, hidden in the shadows as he watches you move against the other man. He can see Daniel progressively gain more and more confidence as his hand moves around to splay against your lower abdomen, lips now brushing against your earlobe. You feign an inaudible gasp, eyes falling shut as you feel the other man become increasingly excited with the way your body moves against his own. 
When the song finally comes to an end, you pull away from him and turn to face him. You reach up to rest your hand on his chest, smiling sweetly in his direction. “Thank you for the dance.”
“Wait, can I get your number?” 
You bite your lower lip and lean in to give a kiss on his cheek once more. “Maybe next time,” you whisper, pulling away from him and turning on your heel to walk towards the bathrooms. 
Jamie follows you closely, taking your hand roughly into his own and pushing you into the bathroom. He locks it behind him, eyes dark with lust as he pushes you against the wall. “I don’t think kissing him on the cheek was part of our plan, baby.”
“It wasn’t… I’m sorry. He just– He wouldn’t dance with me and I figured–”
“It wasn’t part of our plan,” he repeats, hand moving up to tangle itself in your hair. He growls lowly, tugging on it roughly which causes your head to tilt back. “It was already hard enough for me seeing you dance like that with him.” 
“But that’s what you told me to do,” you whimper. 
“Are you talking back?” he whispers, moving closer until his lips brush against the side of your neck.
“N– No, I’m sorry. I just–”
“You just what?” he asks, staring up at you. 
“I’m sorry, Jamie. I’m–”
“Thought I told you to never say my fucking name.” He clicks his tongue and pulls away from you, moving his hands into his pockets as he stares at you from top to bottom. 
You clear your throat and reach out for him, hands moving to his chest. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to do good, make you proud, and–”
“Oh, baby,” he coos, taking one of your hands in his own. “You did do good. You did make me proud.” He takes your other hand and grabs your wrists to pin them above your head, looking into your eyes. “I just don’t like sharing.” 
“I– I’m all yours, I promise.” you bite your lower lip, your own eyes now darkening with lust. “All I could think about while dancing with him was you. I only ever think about you, baby.”
“It’s hard to be angry at you,” he says. “You’re just so sweet on me.”
“And I– I love you,” you add. 
He falters momentarily, clearing his throat as his grip around your wrists loosen just slightly. “Yeah?” he asks.
You nod immediately. “Y– Yes. I’m so in love with you and–”
He interrupts you by pressing his lips firmly against yours, dropping your wrists as his hands now move to your hips. The kiss is messy, urgent, and he wastes no time in sliding his tongue past your lips. He can hear you whimper against his lips and the jealousy he felt earlier is now replaced with a sudden desire to make you completely his. 
“Yeah? How much do you love me, baby?” he mumbles, pulling away from you as he grabs the ends of your dress and begins to lift it higher to bunch around your hips. 
“So much,” you whisper, arms wrapping around his shoulders as you pepper kisses along his jawline. 
“So much that you’d let me put a baby in you, hm? Would you like that?” he uses his free hand to tug down your thong, watching you step out of it once it pools around your ankles.
You bite your lower lip and nod, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Yes,” you answer breathlessly. “Yes, baby.” 
“Good,” he smiles, turning you around. He watches you rest your hands on the wall as you bend down just slightly and he groans at the sight of you, pushing his pants and boxers down his ankles as he grabs a hold of his length and slowly runs his leaking tip across the length of your sex. He leans over you, one hand coming up to tangle itself in your hair again. “Gonna fill you up, baby.”
“Please,” you plead, pushing back against him as you feel his tip slide into you. 
“Mm,” he groans, pulling away from you. “Patience, baby. Let’s not forget that I still didn’t like the way you kissed Daniel.” 
“It was just on the cheek,” you whimper. 
He growls and pulls you upright, tightening his grip around your hair. “Your lips should only be for me,” he whispers into your ear, slamming into you abruptly. He groans quietly, hand moving from the base of his cock to rest on your hip. He releases his hold on your hair to bring his hand around your front, gripping your throat lightly. “You should only be for me.”
“I– I’m yours… All yours, baby,” you moan, bringing a hand to reach around for him. His breaths come in short pants near your ear, hand lightly squeezing your throat as his manhood moves in and out of you. He’s desperate to bring you closer to the edge, his desire to fill you up with his come overwhelming his entire body. 
“Gonna make sure everyone knows that you’re mine,” he whispers into your ear, the sounds of your moans echoing off the walls of the small bathroom as his skin slaps against yours repeatedly. “You’re gonna look so beautiful all pregnant with my baby,” he nips at your earlobe, breathing heavily against you. “God, you make me so fucking happy,” he admits. “You have no idea how much you’ve changed my life, baby… how you will change my life. I’m a better man because of you,” he groans, eyes falling shut as he releases his hold on your throat to grip your hips instead. 
“I love you,” you gasp, walls tightening even further around his length. A loud moan escapes your lips as you move your hands to rest over his own, lacing your fingers over his. 
He groans and rests his forehead against the back of your shoulder as his fingertips dig into your hips, driving his own further into your own. He feels the tightness build until he slams into you, painting your walls with his come. He moans quietly, his hips stuttering as he uses your tight heat to get every last drop of his come. “Skip your birth control tomorrow,” he whispers breathlessly. 
You nod, turning your head to gently kiss his cheek. “Anything for you, baby. I really do love you,” you admit quietly. 
“I know,” he nods. “I know.” 
Later that week, Jamie gets home with blood splattered on his white dress shirt and knuckles bruised and cut up. You widen your eyes, ushering him into the bathroom as you grab the first aid kit. You feel a sense of dread wash over you, eyes filled with concern at the sight of him.
“Oh my god, what– Are you–” you shake your head, looking up at him. “What happened?” 
“What needed to happen,” he answers. His own eyes are distant as he stares at the wall ahead of him, feeling your hands begin to undo his dress shirt. “He transferred the money,” he grins. “And I had to get rid of a loose end.” 
“Y– You killed him?” you ask quietly, pushing the shirt away from his body. 
He nods and finally turns his gaze to you, staring deeply into your eyes. “He found out who I was,” he answers. “So, I had to do what I had to do.” 
You nod slowly, taking his hand as you begin to clean the cuts along his knuckles. Your mind drifts momentarily, knowing that you’re now forever tied to the man in front of you. You never did have to think about his capability of murdering someone, but here he is… standing in front of you with someone else’s blood on his hands, on his clothes. 
“Does that scare you?” he asks, pulling a hand away from you to hook a finger under your chin. He looks into your eyes, narrows his own as he tries to search for any hesitancy in your gaze. “Does knowing that I can kill someone for my own personal gain scare you?” 
You shake your head, biting the inside of your cheek nervously. “No,” you answer. 
“Don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not lying.”
“Then why does the expression on your face say differently?” 
You sigh and set aside the cotton ball and alcohol. “I’m just surprised, that’s all.”
“Why?” he asks, jaw tightening. “I told you what I am, who I am.”
“I know and I still love you,” you reply. “What you did doesn’t change a thing, but these hands… it’s hard to imagine that they can cause so much pain for someone else when you’re so gentle with me.” 
“Hm,” he answers. “Not always gentle with you.”
“But never with bad intentions,” you quip back. “Listen,” you begin. “I told you that I’m in this with you, whatever it takes and whatever that means.” 
“There’s no going back, you know that, right?” 
���I know,” you sigh quietly and move your hands to rest on his bare chest. “So, what’s the plan?” 
“We go wherever we wanna go, baby,” he answers. “Where do you want to go?” 
“Anywhere,” you smile, gently leaning up on your toes to peck his lips. “As long as I’m with you.”
“You love me that much, huh?” he smiles, hand reaching down to rest on your hip. 
“More than you know.” 
“I’m a lucky man,” he says softly, gently lifting you to sit on the edge of the bathroom sink as he stands between your legs. “We’ve got the entire world at our fingertips.” 
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THE AFTERMATH — Six months after Daniel, you and Jamie had decided to go to Italy. You had fallen in love with the country, Jamie buying a small house away from all of the touristy areas. It’s quiet, serene, peaceful. 
You notice that he seems so much more relaxed here. The money he managed to obtain from Daniel and Jonathan providing a comfortable cushion for the both of you. You fall into a comfortable routine with him again – waking up in his arms, falling asleep right next to him. He no longer needs to work and neither do you, so you spend most of your days entangled with one another. 
He still hasn’t told you that he loves you, but through his actions, you know that he does. 
You’re in the kitchen, making lunch when he walks in through the front door. He gazes at you with a small smile, arms crossed over his chest. He walks further into the kitchen and leans against the counter, biting the inside of his cheek. Through everything that he’s been through, he never thought that he’d be here, with someone he was so deeply in love with. He never thought that he'd ever give his heart to anyone; he had always told himself that he was meant to be alone, that the life he wanted to live was never meant to be shared with anyone else.
But you… You had captured his attention from the moment you both met. Even after the first night you shared together, you were all he could ever think about. You were never part of his plan, but now, he can’t ever think about his future without thinking about you. 
When you look up from what you’re doing to see him, a smile instantly lines your lips. You set down the knife and move to wash your hands, feeling him come up from behind as he turns his head to pepper kisses along your neck. 
“Mmm, hello you,” you smile, leaning back against him.
“Hey,” he whispers. “What are you making?” 
“I was craving chicken parm,” you answer, turning around to face him. “You hungry?” 
He nods and cups your cheek lightly, thumb brushing against your soft skin. “Yeah, baby.” 
“Okay, I’ll make enough for the both of us.” 
“Thank you,” he says with a small smile, leaning in to press a soft kiss on your forehead.
“I love you,” you smile to yourself, eyes falling shut when you feel his lips on your forehead. 
He takes a deep breath and wraps his arms around your frame, lips moving to the top of your ear. “I love you too,” he finally admits. 
You feel your heart race even faster, pulling back just enough to look up at him. “Y– You love me too?” 
He nods slowly. “Yeah, baby. I’ve loved you for a long time now.” 
You grin broadly, your teeth pulled between your lips. “I think you just made me the happiest woman alive.” 
“Oh yeah? The five million dollars didn’t do it?” he chuckles. 
“No amount of money would ever make me as happy as hearing those words leave your lips,” you admit. 
“Such a sweet girl,” he smiles. 
“We’ve got the world at our fingertips, right?” you ask.
He grins and moves his hands to rest on the edge of the sink as he brushes the tip of his nose against your own. “This world is ours,” he nods. 
“And our little girl’s,” you add, moving one hand to rest on your baby bump.
He smiles to himself and shuts his eyes, face burying against the side of your neck as he moves his own hand to rest over your own. He had always thought money would be the reason for his happiness, for his contentment, but now that he has you in his life with his child on the way, he couldn’t imagine living his life the way he used to. 
“Everything I do from now on will be for you,” he whispers, feeling a kick against his palm. “And for her.” 
---
npt: @ovaryacted - @yxtkiwiyxt - @princessanglophile - @gelibean522 - @angeiulst
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shradsmanifestt · 2 days ago
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Do you have any advice for someone who struggles heavily with their appearance, to the point they cannot look in the mirror or they’ll spiral?
I have read Neville Goddard and have been into specifically LOA since about the start of this year, I believe in shifting and am an open minded person. Yet, for some reason I can’t convince myself that my appearance is controlled by me, and that any flaws are just in my head.
I would go to therapy or something (I haven’t looked in the mirror properly since October), but I can only do that through my mother (she said yes, but nothing happened yet, so I have to wait.) I think about how I look everyday and I am scared to go outside but I have such a bad view on how I look.
Is it really possible to just robotically affirm through everything, until it manifests? I get really demotivated if nothing changes in a couple of days, even if I logically know that it HAS to manifest.
Rather than advice, I would like to tell you this -
The only reason why you have this appearance rn is because you have accepted the fact that this is how you look. All of these flaws that you have accepted in your mind is why you have those. I don't like to be harsh but in order to help you i have to be honest.
You accepted a certain image of yourself, so the 3D has no other choice but to reflect that. Instead of wasting your time on thinking how you're spiralling and how the mirror scares you, be fearless in accepting the fact that - no not anymore, I love how I look, I look exactly how I wanna look like and persist in that. You are the reason why you look exactly how you look now. You have perfectly manifested looking like this. You have perfectly manifested having a bad view on how you look. This must also be reflected by others since that's the way you think about yourself. Change that. Change the way you see yourself. No matter what happens. Your end goal is to look a certain way right? Be delusional for all I care. You look exactly how you wanna look like rn. Don't let the 3d control you, don't let it define you. You control the 3d. And it's already done. That's it. End of story.
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misslycoris · 3 days ago
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AULD LANG SYNE
For old time's sake — Alastor spends the new year remembering a person from his distant past.
STORY TAGS Angst, childhood friends, flashback, happy ending but not really but everyone's happy, no smut, gender neutral reader, no mention of y/n
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“𝚂𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚊𝚌𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚋𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚘𝚝,
𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍?
𝚂𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚊𝚌𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚋𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚘𝚝,
𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚎?”
New years meant a lot to Alastor. In his first year in Hell, it gave him the opportunity to see his first extermination day. Twenty-four hours of bloodshed delivered by Heaven's savages dressed in gray. The stroke of midnight signaled another year for him to spend terrorizing Hell and crushing the next incompetent power hoarder under his boot.
But after his untimely absence, celebrating the new year had taken on a different meaning for him. Charlie had a habit of celebration, she likes holding celebrations, yes, but more than that she loved reviving celebrations. From Valentine's Day, Easter, even until Christmas — not even Hell's counterpart Sinsmas — did she persuade her hotel patrons to celebrate. New Year's Eve was today's victim, even the impending danger of this year's extermination day wasn't enough to dissuade her.
"Alright, everyone! We have a few minutes left, and I just wanted to take a moment to make a toast!" Charlie happily stood up, raising her slim tall glass of champagne.
"For all of you who have been with me since the beginning, for those of you who have stayed with this hotel even if, uh, things were not so great." Vaggie held her shoulder with a reassuring smile.
"For those of you who are here despite our differences in beliefs and for those that we've lost. This hotel would've never been where it is if it weren't for all of you." It was a sentimental moment, with Charlie trying to wipe the tears that were threatening to spill out of the corner of her eyes.
"So, everyone! Let's spend tonight together and remember those that we've lost. Let's continue to live happily as friends and family! To a happy new year!" Each resident held up their glasses, chirping back her greetings before being absorbed back into their own conversations.
"Those that we've lost, huh?" Alastor mused to himself as he snuck off to the hotel's balcony. He's had enough socializing for one night, he could use a little break and a good glass of whiskey.
Outside the hotel was the same view as it always was, even if Charlie had her way in the hotel, the rest of Hell seemed more busy with preparing themselves for the annual cleanse. The smell of sulfur was a little more tolerable tonight, the noise downtown wasn't as bad as it usually was, and the harsh lights of the city were muted tonight. It was the calm before the storm, a moment of peace and a taste of what a quiet night would be like.
It gave him room to think and let his mind wander.
Back in the simpler days when he used to celebrate the arrival of a new year with other people in a nicer house than his, dressing up to the nines and pretending to have a happy family. A classic scene from his childhood to his early teen years that brought a smile that wasn't so difficult to etch on his face.
His family consisted of him and his mother, anyone else he may have forgotten to mention was rotten scum. Besides his blood-related family, however, were the people of his old neighborhood before he had moved into the city. Lovely folks the lot of them, all smiling and happy like they hadn't had a care in the world. It was especially true when they celebrated New Year's. He remembered lots of fireworks, and neighborhood parties where families either ate inside their houses or hosted a generous party for others to attend. Kids running around before being scolded by their parents, back to bed once midnight strikes, they've stayed up late for long enough they say.
It was in one of those celebrations he met you.
Odd little thing you were, traveling with your folks around the country, actors in those silent films his family sometimes watched in the local theater. They were eccentric, often going around in random out-of-the-way neighborhoods to spend your vacations away from the hectic cities. You were often left alone by the other children, you were new and nobody was brave enough to approach you and your odd family. You were simply that kid their mothers would force them to play with.
Alastor was similar in some regards.
His mother often went on long tirades about how every single kid in the neighborhood avoided her son like the plague and she hasn't got a clue why. Her son was obedient, kind, and more respectful than the others, so why was it he was always on his own?
Alastor chuckled at the thought. If only his mother knew how much of a devil he was, a little hellion who punched kids like there was no tomorrow before scaring them out of their wits. She would faint if she knew!
But that was why when his mother saw you, she had the grand idea of putting you and him together, ain't no better way to force foster friendship between two outcasts.
"Be nice okay? I'll be right over there servin' up the jambalaya." She ruffled his hair before leaving the both of you in an awkward silence. Alastor considers it the first experience he had with dealing with difficult people, and as the first of this instance, he was out of his element. He didn't like how quiet you were, he didn't like how you didn't mind it either. His family was always loud, in more ways than one, but his mother had always showered him with a lively home, one filled with music and smiles. Weren't you supposed to come from a couple of actors? Surely you had to have some sort of social bone in your body.
"I'm Alastor." He greets with a smile, you'd turn your head lazily toward him and take a moment to stare at him.
"Green doesn't suit you." Not even your name, no. The first words you've ever addressed him with were about his outfit. Mind you, he was wearing what his mother bought him for Christmas so he was understandably miffed, but you said it so blandly it didn't sound like it was an insult. It was just a statement, green in fact, didn't suit him.
"That face doesn't suit you." He narrowed his eyes, expecting you to cry or punch him, either way, he was prepared for.
"That missing tooth doesn't suit you." That was neither crying nor punching, what's next? He immediately slapped his hands over his mouth to cover it, last month, or was it the week before Christmas? Somewhere along those days, he had knocked his tooth out in a scuffle, one of the older kids had decided to pick a fight with him and Alastor had a few things going against him.
"What's wrong with that?" His voice came out muffled behind his hand.
Even when you met all he could remember was indifference on your end but for a moment he could remember how you stifled your laughter at the sight of him hiding his teeth. He doesn't know what his mother saw during your interaction that night but he remembers being dragged out to play with you whenever she was invited over by your mother for chitchats over beignets and coffee.
You were a strange child, you continued to comment on his fashion tastes and all you did was draw all day. No wonder no one wanted to play with you, you were no fun at all! For a conversationalist such as Alastor, it was as if he was put up against a brick wall, it's not even funny at the time, he remembered constantly falling into awkward bouts of silence even after trying to rile you up into bickering with him.
"You really should consider wearing red more often." There you went again, with your fashion statements all the while you kept your eyes glued on your sketchbook.
"You should consider makin' friends than whatever you're doin'." You shook your head.
"I'm fine, thank you." Kicking rocks all afternoon was hardly entertaining but he'd rather take that than sitting by the staircase. He had half a mind to just snatch your sketchbook from your hands and see what was so tantalizing about it.
Actually,
"Hey!" You didn't put up much of a fight when he did just that, only sending him a glare that warned him not to do anything he'd regret. It was a sketch of the house in front of you two, unfinished and rough but in the eyes of a child it looked like something that came out of a museum.
"You drew this?" He asked, flipping through other pages filled with illustrations of flowers, sceneries you've seen, picturesque locations you've been to, and random household items.
"Yes, now give it back." You snatched the sketchbook right out of his hands, flipping back to the sketch you've made. You clicked your tongue at the stray pencil mark that you accidentally made when he grabbed ahold of it, not being able to notice him sitting beside you and staring at your drawing until he was right there. That afternoon something shifted, Alastor began to ask you things about yourself. About your life and passion for arts, even the places you've been to. It was his first glimpse of the world outside of his city, stories about snowy mountains and humid canyons, skyscrapers lining up the streets, and the sound of vendors gathered in tight alleys.
You and Alastor grew to tolerate each other until that tolerance morphed into you and him actively seeking out each other's company.
Two odd ducks — he was often seen sneaking off to sit in a random meadow or empty field with you lagging behind him. Alastor did the talking and watched as you captured the beauty of his hometown within your sketchbook.
"Do you draw people?" Alastor saw fancy portraits in the houses of sugar barons and cotton kings so he'd expected you to have some drawings of your own but surprisingly, you didn't. Even with drawing bustling cities you actively try to avoid drawing people, at most, you'll draw silhouettes of people. Clumps of shadow meant to imitate a crowd.
"No."
"Why not?"
"They're too difficult. If you get one thing wrong it'll look messed up entirely." You held up your sketchbook against the landscape, trying to see if you had missed anything.
"Have you tried?"
"I drew my parents once, they're actors but even I could tell they had a hard time trying to like it." Alastor leaned against the grass, staring at the setting sun far beyond the horizon.
"Well, practice makes perfect. If you wanna be an artist you gotta try harder than that." You replied with a half-hearted hum, much more invested in your work than what he was saying.
"What do you want to be anyway? You wouldn't do so bad as a boxer." Perish the thought, he'd never. His dreams were far beyond his neighborhood and much farther beyond his city. To be heard by the masses, his name spread far and wide, that's right, a radio broadcaster. Starring in late-night crime shows and afternoon suspense series, in game shows and commercials. He'd be a household name! That way he'd help his dear old mother out of the throes of misery and be remembered by all.
"I'm destined for radio, I just know it." He said with confidence. How true those words were, there was never a doubt in Alastor's mind that he would make it, one way or another it was him against the world and he fucking won.
"Seems right for a chatterbox."
"Still, that doesn't change the fact that you need to start practicin'. Momma said she'll consider puttin' me in school but if you ask me I'd rather sell newspaper. At least we'll be earnin' somethin'." Your hands froze over the paper, bothered by something that he said but he couldn't tell what it was.
"School's starting soon, huh?" There was a solemn tone in your voice that he didn't understand back then.
"You don't like school?"
"You can say that." Alastor elbowed your shoulders at your reply.
"Wanna sell newspapers with me? I'll ask momma and then we'll go and ask your folks." You grabbed onto your sketchbook and began to pack up your things, getting rid of the weeds that were stuck on your socks.
"I don't think that's possible." Alastor stood up and followed right behind you, blissfully unaware of the turmoil you were currently facing. Your family was just about ready to leave New Orleans back then, aiming to provide you with formal education that your parents gathered up their savings on.
It was funny how big of a deal it seemed like to the both of you when your parents broke the news, you two even had a spat if he remembers correctly. That's the thing, however, it had been so long ago he couldn't even remember what you looked like. Not the color of your eyes, your hair, not anything. Half of what he remembers is either made up by an overactive imagination or half-truths he filled in to close any gaps. He was a child, it was in the early 1900s, and you were only in New Orleans for less than a year, he was surprised he could even remember you.
What he did remember was the single torn page you gave him before you left.
A portrait of him.
It was messy, filled with mistakes, and clearly something an amateur drew, you had all but cried when you were giving it to him. But for as rough as it was, no matter how disproportionate it might've looked to a seasoned professional, Alastor liked it. Like was a strong word but it was the truth. A childish appreciation of something objectively worthless. It was no Picasso, but it meant more than all those gaudy paintings tucked away in galleries. For something you were admittedly bad at you were more than willing to try, your parents told him you've crumpled more than half of your sketchbook's pages before you got something you were satisfied with.
He couldn't see any of your indifference during your day of departure, you and him stayed tethered to one another until the moment you had to leave.
"Let's see each other again someday!" Alastor shouted as you waved goodbye, he was holding the portrait between his arms, too scared to leave it unattended.
"I'll be waiting!" You shouted back.
As happy as you both tried to be, hoping to find the time to see each other again, you two never did. Your family never gave out your new address and while you had his, you never reached out. More than that, his family moved to a different part of the city when their financial situation went down the rocks due to a fool. So even if you did send a letter afterward, it wouldn't have reached Alastor.
That portrait you gave him soon got lost during the move, maybe he misplaced it somewhere or it was blown away by the wind into a crevice in his old house, never to be seen again.
You would've died decades ago so maybe you were up in Heaven enjoying a life without worries, you were always the voice of reason between the two of you. If you were somehow down here in Hell with him, then considering you hadn't reached out to him despite his notoriety it would mean you'd rather stay incognito, that or you were dead.
As distraught as he was back then, with time you became someone who was just a part of his childhood. Not meant to be anything more than just a memory that he can go back to reminisce and sometimes that's just alright. He'd hate to rope you into the mess he was up to during the 30's, maybe that's part of the reason he wasn't that keen on meeting you again.
Would he have wanted to? It was a nice thought, he wanted to know if you got somewhere within the art industry, he'd like to catch up and tell you all the things he's been up to. But other than that, he doubted there was anything more to say.
"Hey Smiles! Charlie was callin' everyone for the countdown. Get your ass in 'ere!" Alastor downed the last bit of whiskey in his glass before reconvening with the rest. There was no need for hypotheticals, he was already busy with the mess of living an afterlife with a merry band of misfits.
Being a memory for someone isn't such a bad thing, not when you were part of the very few that he looked back on fondly.
All he could hope for was you looking back at those days with just as much fondness as he has.
“𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚎, 𝚖𝚢 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚛,
𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚎,
𝚠𝚎’𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚌𝚞𝚙 𝚘𝚏 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚢𝚎𝚝,
𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚎.”
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╭┉┉┅┄┄┈•◦_•◦❥•◦_
One final gift from me before the new year hits, Auld Lang Syne always makes me cry whenever I hear it being played especially during New Year's Eve. It reminds me a lot of the people I used to be friends with but have since grown apart from. Not really due to any fights or arguments, just drifting apart in general. But they're happy and I'm happy (mostly), if anything I'm thankful that I was a part of their life, as short as it may have been. With that, I wish you all a very prosperous new year.
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icbgwy · 2 days ago
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the way things go ꕥ riki nishimura
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⎯‎⎯‎⎯⠀⠀⠀⠀⋆⠀⠀⠀⠀ׄ⠀⠀⠀ball busters
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ni-ki ( rkimura ) 니키
⋆⠀⠀⠀⠀ׄ⠀⠀⠀ni-ki, co-captain of the school’s basketball team along side his close friend, lee heeseung. y/n’s ex childhood best friend before deciding one day to randomly cut her off during the summer before their second year of junior high. although being friends with y/n kept him humble and grounded, without her, he’s become like every stereotypical rich teenager— snobby, arrogant, and entitled.
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riki ( nishiki ) 西村 力
⋆⠀⠀⠀⠀ׄ⠀⠀⠀nishimura riki, only ever always his close friends call him by his real name. uses his private account to vent about his “friends”, soyeon and jihoon or be the person he actually is away from the judgment of soyeon and jihoon. only three people follow— heeseung, jake, and his main account. riki refuses to acknowledge that he and y/n have mutual friends, only passingly greeting her when she’s speaking with jake or minji, never holding an actual conversation with her.
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heeseung ( lehsng ) 이희승
⋆⠀⠀⠀⠀ׄ⠀⠀⠀lee heeseung, riki’s close friend and fellow basketball teammate. co-captain along side riki due to the coach being super adamant that riki had too many distractions in his life to truly be committed to the team. he’s levelheaded and the only voice of reasoning in riki’s life. likes to watch jake flirt with girls, especially y/n, thinking it’s funny.
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jake ( simyun ) 심재윤
⋆⠀⠀⠀⠀ׄ⠀⠀⠀sim ‘jake’ jaeyun, riki’s biggest instigator and close teammate, he’s super into anything spiritual. at first was using it as a bit to pick up girls at the school but quickly fell fascinated by the concept. shortest guy on the basketball team and never hears the end of it. fails miserably at trying to be a playboy like his friends, riki and heeseung. classmates with y/n, jokingly flirts with her but ends up getting rejected.
ִ ࣪ 𖦹 物事の進み方 ָ ࣪ ׅ
prev . masterlist . next
notes: off topic but i want to write for squid games lowkey…
summary: at the start of his senior year, riki nishimura notices that everything feels off—his basketball skills are slipping, and his usual charm with girls has vanished. desperate for answers, he follows his co-captain heeseung's joking advice and visits a local shaman. she reveals the source of his bad luck: major karmic debt. to regain his balance, riki must make amends for his broken and abandoned childhood friendship with the one girl who truly knew him, y/n matsuzaki.
tag list ( open ): @tasnemluvs @elegancefr @jiiyen @skepvids @enhypenlovre @mylettterstoyou @delirioastral @who-tf-soddhi @aespaqq @nat123c @nodoubtily @right-person-wrong-time @beijinkaoya @awhrin
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youleftmenochoicebut · 3 days ago
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Part two of gold rush where they get their cottage in whales please 🙏🏽
PEACE — regulus black.
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SUMMARY. — you and Regulus live happily ever after. that's it.
PAIRING. — regulus black x fem!pureblood!reader
WARNINGS. — fluff, kinda au cause reg doesnt get the dark mark
A/N. — i didnt plan on doing a part 2 but oh well <3 anyways! heres part 1; this is so short im sorry!!!
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war is over. as much as you can't believe it, it's true. Voldemort is dead, mostly thanks to Regulus' brother and his friends' actions, and to the Order's activity. it ended weeks ago.
meanwhile, you and your husband have been hiding here for the past three years, ever since graduating Hogwart's. you've been hiding, like cowards, and unfortunately you can't feel shame or embarrassment in that regard. at least you're alive, unlike some of your friends. Evan didn't make it, which led to Barty's psychotic break. Dorcas' girlfriend, Marlene and her family didn't make it, killed by Voldemort personally this summer. Peter, who turned out to be a traitor, didn't make it either. there are a lot more loses on both sides of the war, of course, but you try not to think about it much.
it's early morning when you sit on the edge of your shared bed, reading through the letter from Lily that your owl just delivered. you take in the latest news from London, a small smile on your face. Lily's pregnant again, Sirius and Remus moved in together into Grimmauld Place, Mary's got a new cat. it all seems so mundane, after months and months of bad information, you shake your head at it.
you place the letter on your nightstand, then settle back to bed, turning around to find Regulus staring at you sleepily. your baby girl is still fast asleep in her crib by your bed.
"what's with the letter, huh?" Regulus rasps out, reaching his hand out to graze his fingers over your bare shoulder, leaving goosebumps in their wake. "is it Lily or Remus?"
"s'Lily. m'gonna write her back later after you read it." you murmur, careful to keep your voice down, and you sigh. "i have to feed Astra. can you make pancakes for breakfast?"
"sure." your husband nods, leans in to plant a quick peck on the bridge of your nose (he knows how much you despise morning breath), and gets up. as you watch him leave the bedroom you thank Merlin that he sleeps in only his boxers, and you can ogle his backside like a horny teenager as he walks away.
you roll onto your back, letting out a heavy breath, then glance at the crib just few feet from you, your four month old sucking on her dummy with her eyes already wide open.
almost forty-five minutes pass before you finally go downstairs. Astra is fed, changed and completely awake, swaddled in a baby wrap close to your chest. your steps are slow and deliberate as you make your way into the kitchen, where you are met with the sight of Regulus moving around the space, humming some tune under his breath whilst flipping pancakes. you stand in the doorway, just watching him happily before Astra betrays you with a bubbly shrieking laugh, her eyes focused on her daddy too.
"i'm almost done, ladies." your husband looks up at you, nodding you to come closer, and so you do. you lean back against the kitchen island, your hands resting under Astra's swaddled body, making sure she's held up alright. your baby keeps sending Regulus toothless smiles, cooing and babbling. she's been like this for only a few days after she hit a milestone.
you spend your days in peace like that. being a family. sometimes you go out for walks in the nearby woods, letting Astra nap in the fresh air. sometimes you sit in your garden, by the pond. sometimes you don't leave the house, lounging around all day and marvelling at the miracle your daughter was. today is one of these days. so domestic, most would deem boring. but that's what you love.
when you and Regulus go to bed that night, it's late. past midnight. you're certain Astra is starting teething, because she's been fussy ever since her afternoon nap. for now she's back asleep in her crib, although tossing and turning a bit, and you stare up at the ceiling mindlessly. you feel Regulus' hand creep over your body and resting on your hip, but you're too tired to even look at him now.
"ma chérie." he whispers, his thumb moving over your hip in soothing circles, and his other hand grips your chin lightly, turning your head in his direction. "hi."
"hi." you whisper back, nibbling on your lower lip as you stare into his grey eyes. you snuggle closer to him, your head resting on his chest and your arms wrap around his torso. "Merlin, you're always so cold."
Regulus snorts, and without looking up you know he's rolling his eyes, squeezing you in with his hands settling on your bum. you shiver at the feeling, reaching down to pull the covers over the two of you, and the moment you close your eyes a piercing wail sounds out from the crib. you practically jump out of bed, but Regulus brings you back down.
"stay. i'll go"
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sapphiresaphics · 1 day ago
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Well I can’t disagree with you more on that. Episode 7 was an exceptionally pivotal episode. Not only does it give Ekko time to shine and get his superpower of rewinding time that ultimately saves the day, it’s a chance for us to get much needed context both in what Jayce was doing and what Piltover and Zaun could be. The AU is the future Ekko and others are fighting for.
It’s also pulling double duty. We spend an entire episode with Ekko connecting with Powder so that when he returns to his world he can save Jinx. And I mean that in the literal narrative sense. Watching Ekko work with Jinx would remove tension from the final battle, but it would also just be mostly redundant to what we saw in episode 7. For a show that trims all the fat, episode 7 acts as stand in for how Ekko will connect with Jinx later.
It also emphasizes why Hextech is bad. The AU with Ekko is nice because Hextech doesn’t exist, whereas the future AU with Jayce is terrible because Hextech was allowed to flourish to its ultimate conclusion. When the final battle is about getting rid of Hextech and ending the cycle of violence that began with its creation, I think spending the time to see why it’s important is necessary for the audience.
I do agree that there are some areas that could’ve been streamlined or ironed out a bit. I’ve addressed this in another post, but I do feel like the sequential order of each plot line gets a little muddled towards the end. I don’t think the information in those plot lines is bad or missing context, just that a restructuring of the episodes might’ve helped lessen the pacing issues. Mel’s story in particular I really like, but it’s out of order and she’s held in magical captivity so long between episodes it feels weird to cut back to her and no time has passed.
I still don’t really feel like this was lazy writing though. And since the season was written and started in production before season 1 even aired, I think it’s a little disingenuous to suggest they didn’t plan this out ahead of time. With the amount of setups, payoffs, parallels, and callbacks, this show is ridiculous in how dense it is. I can’t imagine any of that being lazy.
At any rate, thank you for the kind discussion. Frequently when I’ve tried to talk to people about their feelings on this show I get bombarded with negativity and slander so I really appreciate you taking the time to talk to me like a normal person.
Do not create a literal upper caste lower caste class divide in your show if you are incapable of presenting the nuances of such a divide it makes you look lazy
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