#but i still don't want to tag it in multiple ways in fear it gets ripped to shreds because

[captainhunnicutt]

I was watching Commander Pierce, today and had some thoughts. I feel like, this is one of those episodes where the viewer is supposed to think Hawkeye is being a jerk with his "leadership style," and how he overdid it etc. etc. but the more I think about it... the more I feel bad for him. I don't think he was actually at fault here as much as initially thought.

Hawkeye knows who he is. He knows what his faults are and doesn't try to pretend they aren't there. He even says he isn't fit to lead. His insignia is a cringing chicken. He doesn't know how to give orders. He legitimately gives every reason putting him in charge is a bad idea - and not one person takes him seriously. I feel like sometimes, throughout the show, this theme reappears. People don't listen or take Hawkeye seriously because he says things in such a way that makes it sound like he's cracking a joke - but behind every joke there is some semblance of truth. And it feels like an argument could be made that that particular consideration isn't often awarded to Hawkeye. It's the exact opposite of BJ - who delivers a lot of very telling statements calmly and collected and no one pays any attention. Like when BJ says in Our Finest Hour that the war has made him angry, and we all act surprise (the only person who doesnt is Hawkeye) when he lashes out in BJ Papa San. It's the same idea. They aren't taken seriously, and that feels like the most dehumanizing thing, which in turn feels like commentary on soldiers/draftees in general. They are just chess pieces in one large game that never seems to end.

But anyway, Hawkeye doesn't think he can lead, but he really is a natural leader. He leads by example and by not following protocol. By thumbing his nose at rules and regulations - and that is actually working until the influx of wounded and the lack of physical hands available to help. So he defaults to the only option readily available to him. The "army way". There are rules and regulations and standard operation procedures, that in theory, are supposed to help lead. They are supposed to be ways to get themselves to the other side of a situation. So Hawkeye tries to abide by them, use them to his advantage, but with people who are conditioned - by Hawkeye himself and commanding officers continuously allowing it to happen - to NOT play by the book. So what do they do? They lash out at Hawkeye. They make him out to be the worst leader and doing a terrible job - which isn't entirely fair to him.

Hawkeye didn't have the confidence in his own natural abilities to lead and to get them through everything, and fell victim to thinking the "army way" was designed to actually help.

And while I think BJ was honest upon his return, and did exactly what "Captain Pierce" would've done, I don't think he was actually mad at Hawkeye or "Commander Pierce." I think it's one of those situations where he wasn't mad, just disappointed. I like to believe (re: it's possible and I'm in no way saying this is absolutely what happened but it's open for interpretation) BJ was the first person (maybe the only person) to recognize that Hawkeye would've done just fine if he had led as himself and not tried to be the exact thing he normally despised.

Thanks for coming to my messy MASH talk.

[bamsywrites]

And Comes Dawn pt iii

Pairing: Sauron/Halbrand x Reader, more ships/love triangles to come, though, so stay tuned.

Summary: the deciver has decided he must get rid of you until a stranger reignites his curiosity in an unexpected way.

Word count: 2k

Notes: let me know if you wanna be tagged. I was not expecting this many people to like this fic. Thank you so much for the feed back, I read every comment and reblog multiple times. Keep any and all feedback coming. I'm super invested in this series and have so many plans that I'm so excited to write.

Tags/warning: male masturbation, nothing super explicit but sauron has some pretty unhealthy kinks, slow burn, saurons post nut clarity is murder plotting, sauron being sauron. galadriel finally shows up, cliffhanger

Series Masterlist

“She does nothing but sit there, day in and day out. Our rations are wasted on her!” 

“All of us sit and do nothing because there is fucking nothing to do.”

Halbrand and the older man were fighting again. Halbrand had become annoyed that the other had declared himself the de facto leader of the raft, and his anger exploded when it was proclaimed you had not 'earned' your rations. He had obviously found it absolutely insane and when you made no sound or protest, he took it upon himself to make it known how insane it was. 

“I am the leader here. I have organized the rations, I have kept order, and I have directed where we go.” The other man seemed offended. He had proven himself to be rather arrogant, and you held no surprise that he would suggest such a thing or believe that he was the leader of the raft.

“Oh great Lord of the Raft. How difficult your job must be. Deciding if we die a little to the west or a little to the east.” Halbrand rolled his eyes as he spoke. 

“Be sarcastic all you want. She's lucky we don't throw her in.” 

The air stilled and a dark shadow passed over Halbrands face, his jaw clenched and in a moment he had grabbed the other by their shirt, “The moment you do that is the moment I feed you and every single person on this raft to the wyrm.” Their faces merely inches apart,  Halbrands voice was cold, full of hatred, and it sent a chill over everyone on the raft. The older man stared up at him with fear, a fear so palpable and intense that it was as if he was looking into the eyes of the great foe himself. 

“Halbrand,” you spoke softly, fingers gently wrapping around his wrist and moving him away. “This is not what I wish.”

He turned to look at you and his gaze softened,tongue peaking out to wet his lips. The air flowed again, and the darkness lifted, “You wish to starve? Because that's his wish, that's his plan. He wants to make our supply of food last longer by taking the very little portion you have. He knows you would never say anything to him, and you can not ask me to sit back and watch you starve, sweet one.” His eyes searched your face as he spoke with such earnest conviction. 

“I do not wish for you to murder in my name,” you replied in a passionate whisper. 

Halbrand nodded, sighing softly, “Then I will not,” he leaned closer to you, so his lips were next to your ear, and you could feel his hot breath on your skin. Your breath caught in your voice as he whispered softly, “Know that I would, though. If you only asked, I would burn this raft and everyone on it to keep you safe.” 

He pulled away and pressed a soft kiss to the crown of your head as you stood speechless. The butterflies in your stomach exploded. This was new. Your interactions had been purely platonic until this point. He never presented himself as someone more than a friend, and you had been content with that. Yet you enjoyed the feeling of his lips on your forehead and greatly missed them when they were gone. 

The talk of murdering everyone else was one you didn't wish to dwell on. Perhaps it was hyperbolic. Perhaps said in anger. Either way, those were thoughts for another time. Now, you would embrace the shivers and butterflies. 

“Well, your highness, she will be eating today and I will ensure it,” Halbrand gave the man a pointed look and the other simply nodded, his eyes still swimming as if he'd seen some great horror but you were too fixated on the ghost of Halbrands kiss that lingered on your forehead to pay it much mind. 

~

He'd taken the deception too far when he placed that kiss upon your head. He regretted it the moment he did it. The taste of your skin stained his lips, and it was all he could think of. Your skin felt unbelievably soft and he could just imagine what your lips would taste like, your tongue, your cunt. 

Your cunt. The thought of it had been all consuming. Warm and wet. Soft and velvety. He ached to feel it, to taste it, to take it. The thoughts had led to his current position, standing at the edge of the raft with his cock in his fist. This act felt below him but the thoughts wouldn't leave his mind and he needed some relief from them. From the thoughts of you. 

Thoughts of your cunt. 

Warm and wet. Soft and velvet. 

His eyes fluttered, and his breath caught in his throat. He hated every second of this. He had no control. Ever since you looked up at him with those eyes of yours, eyes he wanted to make weep as you choked on his cock. He breathed a soft curse as he imagined your sweet, innocent eyes looking up at him with your lips wrapped around his cock. His thumb collected the precum from his tip and worked it around his shaft, the soft wet sounds filling the night. 

Would you be inexperienced?  Had someone claimed you before? You were his and his alone, his precious sweet one. The thought of someone else having you first filled him with such rage. He would drench his hands in their blood and paint your body with it as he fucked you. His hands around your neck, squeezing enough to feel your life thrumming underneath his fingers. 

You were his and his alone. No one else could touch you, no other lips taste you, no other cock take you. He'd burn all of Middle Earth to ensure it, torture any man who dared look at you. He'd carve his name into your flesh, lick the blood off your skin. A growl escaped his lips, the thought of his name scared into your soft skin. His hand tightened around his cock and his movements increased in speed. 

His breathing got more ragged as he got closer to his peak,  your name tumbling past his lips in a choked whisper. He could almost imagine you whining and whimpering his name, his real name.  That was what sent him over, the visual of you impaled on his cock and desperately calling his name. He groaned loudly, his seed shooting into the water. 

Breathing heavily, his eyes closed. Almost immediately, the cacophony of thoughts entered his mind. That had been a brief reprieve, but now his existential crisis continued. What was his purpose? Who was he now that his master was dead? Power and control, how could he have both without sacrificing the other?  

And then your smiling face flashed through his mind, the sound of your laugh...-

This couldn't continue. No amount of curiosity was worth this loss of control. He was a god, but his mind as of late had been reminiscent of a teenage boy. Thoughts may plague him, but he would forget you within the age. He needed you gone, dead. The longer you stayed alive, the longer these damn lustful thoughts would plague him and be his undoing. He was slowly losing his sanity because of you. 

The problem was he couldn't do it. He tried mere minutes before giving into these urges, but as he looked at your sleeping face, he couldn't bring himself to push you in and under the waves. In thousands of years, no one had been able to still his blade or stay his hand with such ease. He couldn't look at you and take your life. He could not be the one to do it, that thought alone proving to be more a reason for your death. Weakness was not something he would tolerate. 

His mind called out to wyrm, calling it to their location. If he couldn't do it, he'd give the task to something else. By nightfall tomorrow, you'd be gone. You'd be at the bottom of the sea or in the belly of the beast. By nightfall, he'd have his mind back. 

Why did the thought of your death fill him with such dread?

~

He wouldn't even look at you. You'd greeted him in the morning, and he ignored you. You sat next to him, and he moved to the other side of the raft. You watched as his eyes bore into planks of the raft. You wet your lips and pulled it between your teeth. He was your first friend in a very long time, and now you had lost him for reasons that escaped you.  You were utterly alone, lost at sea, and you struggled to find hope here. All you could do is close your eyes and remind yourself that falling into despair would do nothing more than make the situation worse and more hopeless.

You watched the clouds pass in the sky, counting them, and your fingers tapped away at the wood. Every few moments, you had to blink away the tears that had started welling in your eyes as you thought of losing another person you cared for. Suddenly, you sat up as you heard what you thought was a voice in the air. You squinted as your eyes examined the fog.

“There's a voice on the water.” You spoke quietly. 

Almost instantly, bickering broke amongst the others. To save her or not. You shook your head, “We're not leaving her to starve and die!” 

One of the others pulled her up and gave her water as you grabbed her a chunk of bread and looked for a piece of cloth or something that could bring the stranger some warmth. The bickering continued as you searched and returned with a piece of bread.

“Suppose you'll be sharing your rations?” the old man asked. 

You couldn't help the roll of your eyes, “Damn the rations,” you kneeled and handed the stranger the bread. “It's not much, but it's something. Are you hurt?” 

Before she could answer, one of the others asked, “What are you doing out here?”  

The stranger took the bread, “I was separated from my ship.” 

You looked at her with empathy. Of course, you could understand. She looked over at you as if to answer your question next, but she stopped, her eyes examining your face as if she knew you but was unable to place how. It made you uncomfortable, made your heart still. Has your past caught up with you all the way out here? 

“She doesn't look dangerous,” the other woman spoke.

“Looks can be deceiving,” Halbrand spoke, and you were about to protest when you saw the point to her ears. Your blood ran cold, and you moved back from her. 

“Remove your hand from me, sir,” the stranger spoke, her attention returning to you. “I know your face.”

You quickly stood up and stepped back. This could not be happening. Not here. Not now. Perhaps the elf could save you, or perhaps she would convince the others to throw you into the sea. The sins of your father would never stop chasing you, it seemed. 

~

“I know your face."

His head snapped your direction at this revelation. What did that mean? How would an elf know you? He watched your reaction, the fear and shame passing over your face confirming that there was a story there. He cursed silently.

All day, he avoided looking at you. All day, he had convinced himself that you were nothing more than a naive human, that the warmth he felt had to be in relation to this new form getting used to the world around him. There was nothing special about you. Nothing at all. He repeated it over and over, though he never really believed it. He could sense the darkness and calamity swimming through the ocean towards them, the beast he had called, and he had convinced himself that your death would solve his internal struggle. 

But now, this damn elf had reignited the curiosity with vigor. It felt as if an inferno burnt through him. He had to know more. He knew when the wyrm came, he would be unable to leave you to death. You were the most curious thing, and it was infuriating. 

Who were you? 

previous next

[soldiersslut]

GHOST OF YOU — SOLDIER BOY "CHAPTER ONE"

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Female!Reader

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 2,638

Author's Note: I am super duper excited for this! I am happy to see others are as well. Thank you so much again!

IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED PLEASE LET ME KNOW. DON'T FORGET TO FOLLOW, HEART, AND REPOST. THANK YOU AGAIN!

“I am gone for one day, and this is what happens. Was putting MM to sleep really necessary?” You asked, watching what unfolded from afar. MM told Annie ahead of time what the plan was, and Annie told you.

It was no surprise that neither Butcher or Hughie had told anyone else about the plan. Little by little their recklessness was clouding their judgment. Going as far as to putting MM to sleep. Butcher scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“He is just taking a little nap. I cannot have him getting in the way and as much as you might not want to agree, you do. Soldier Boy is our weapon, and we need to make sure he is satisfied with our gift waiting inside.”

You stayed silent. There was no point in arguing with him.

“Don’t you think someone should stay inside with her? Just have eyes on her in case she tries anything?” you suggested.

Butcher nodded and tilted his head towards the direction of the door. “Since you offered to babysit, have fun. I will be waiting for him out here.”

You did not move until Butcher did. He stayed facing the trees. Your friendship with Butcher is interesting, to say the least. While you did not agree with most of Butcher’s plans the end goal was all the same. He had been the one to recruit you after MM vouched for you. Before joining the Boys you were a combat medic specialist for the Army. Most of your work consisted in base to assist soldiers as well as help in humanitarian situations. Somewhere along the way you met MM, and you made a big enough impact he remembered you.

Here you are now serving as medic most of the times, but when things get bad you are ready to fight and defend yourself.

“Who’s there?” spoke up Countess, panic heard in her tone. All you had done was enter her trailer and stay by the door for a moment.

You looked to your right to see Countess’ hands had been taped and chained down. You stepped out of the shadow so she could have a closer look at you. Though you made sure to keep your distance.

“That’s impossible,” she whispered.

You were unable to hide your confusion. Both of your eyebrows furrowed closer together and you tilted your head slightly.

“I’m sorry?” you questioned, hoping she was going to elaborate what she means by it.

She began to shake her head and a snarl formed on her lips.

“Don’t play stupid with me, bitch. You’ve been alive this entire fucking time!” Countess snapped and attempted to harshly pull on the chains to let herself loose.

You blinked twice at the audacity of her attitude. This is the first time you are meeting her and somehow you are supposed to know her. There is one thing you’ve noticed about Countess though. Behind her anger, there was fear.

“I am not playing stupid! What the hell are you talking about?” you snapped back.

“Come on, Mimi, you’re really wanting to play stupid? Isn’t it just a tiny bit coincidence that Soldier Boy is out of Russia and you are here. You’re not supposed to be here. I was told you stayed in Russia.”

You still could not hide your confusion. You were so taken back you blinked multiple times and shook your head.

“Well, obviously, I am not in Russia. This was the one and only time I went. Care to explain what the hell is going on through that chimp brain of yours?!” you demanded to know.

Before Countess could say anything the door to the outside opened. Your eyes remained on her while she looked behind you to see who showed up.

“Ben? Is that really you?” she asked.

Slow, but heavy footsteps can be heard. Slowly you turned around and came face to face with Soldier Boy.

And there it is again.

The same look Countess had when she saw you was the same look Soldier Boy had. Soldier Boy completely ignored Countess at the moment. He was just staring at you, and you stared back waiting for him to say something. Nothing was said, but there was a trance between you both. You nor him could look away from one another. Countess decided to break it.

“You look so young,” she complimented. Soldier Boy had been quick to answer, “you don’t.” And yet he had not even looked at her for him to say such a thing. This was not your place to be at.

“I’m leaving,” you announced. The trailer was small and the amount of things Countess had made it even smaller. With three steps you would be out of the door, but as you took two steps forward Soldier Boy moved to the side to block you.

“No, you’re staying” he ordered.

You were stunned by his demand and was unable to protest. It was not going to get you anywhere and you did not want to make him angry either. The man was on a vengeance, and you had no power to fight against someone like him. He moved past you and stood in front of Countess now. She let out a laugh.

It was obvious you did not wish to be there. This was something personal, and almost intimate. You tried blocking out their conversation but it was impossible. Nothing in the room was interesting enough to stare at and zone out.

“I loved you.”

That’s when things got interesting. You did not even have to look at Soldier Boy to hear the sadness in his voice. The way he was describing his pain, torture, and yet still held onto the hope. It explains why he felt so betrayed. This time you turned to look at Soldier Boy and Countess. His back was towards you, but Countess could still see you. Her eyes moved to you and she shook her head in disbelief. She let out a scoff and spoke.

“You did not love me, you loved her. Deny it all you want, but it has always been about her. You never looked at me the way you looked at her. Hell, you fucking treated her better than you’ve ever treated anyone else. It was about damn time she got smart enough and left you. She knew her worth. When she left I was furious because I had the hope that with her being out of the picture you would have changed for the better, but you only got worse with time. I would have done the same thing and left you, but I made a vow to make you pay for everything. For every tear, pleads, and humiliation I had to endure because of you. I hated you.”

There was silence afterwards. You were not sure what to think of Countess’ speech. She keeps bringing you up, and yet it makes no sense. You have never met Countess before. Much less Soldier Boy. The last time they were together it was during the 1980s. You weren’t even a thought.

“As for you, why did you go back for him? You had a life all sorted out for you. His words might sound sweet, but you know better than I that the only person he will only look out for is himself.”

This was your opportunity to say something. You wanted to ask her for clarification. She held something against you, and you cannot even wrap your mind around what it is. Though it was too late.

“Leave.”

You looked at Soldier Boy who continues to have his back towards you.

“Wait a minute—” you began to protest but was rudely interrupted.

“Are you stupid and deaf now? Go!” he snapped.

You then realized why he demanded you left. You can see the light forming in his chest and aimed toward Countess. Without a second thought you ran out and sprinted towards Butcher.

“The hell happened in there?” Butcher demanded to know.

“He’s about to explode! Grab MM!” you yelled, and right on cue a loud explosion occurred behind you.

There was so much force that wind picked up and forced you to fall on the ground. Butcher was quick to grab MM and be out of harm’s way. From the ground you turned around and used your elbows to sit up and look at the damage. The trailer was gone, but the debris was scattered everywhere. You stood up and rushed towards MM to make sure he was okay.

Annie called out to you, and Hughie followed behind her.

“MM is alright. Butcher was able to get him out of the way,” you explained and lightly slapped MM’s face multiple times hoping that would wake him up. Once again you heard the heavy footsteps and all attention was shifted to Soldier Boy who appeared from the fog of what used to be Countess’ trailer. You got up from the floor and just watched. Annie had gotten defensive and Soldier Boy noticed. He watched Annie, but then looked at you. He stopped moving and just stared like he has done before.

Once again the both of you were in a trance. The trance got disrupted by Hughie’s voice as he tried to reason with Annie. He and Butcher began to follow behind Soldier Boy. You stayed in place with Annie and MM who was starting to wake up.

“I’m alright,” MM assured. You and Annie helped him off of the ground and watched the other trio walking away. Though Soldier Boy came to a stop and turned around to see who was following.

“What the hell is happening now?” MM asked. Soldier Boy, Butcher, and Hughie were talking and it almost looked like an argument. They began to walk back towards the other trio.

“You are coming with us,” Butcher ordered, pointing at you. Annie and MM quickly got defensive.

“It is the only way Soldier Boy is going to cooperate with us. Either she comes or he goes into destructive mode. I don’t know what the hell you told him in there, but he is demanding you” Butcher explained. Butcher was getting desperate and if he has to knock you out, carry you, or threaten you he’ll do it.

Annie and MM were not convinced, but you were. If someone has all the answers to your questions it must be him.

“Soldier Boy can suck my dick too and I still would not accept her leaving. Go fuck yourself, Butcher. He is your problem!” MM argued.

Soldier Boy now stepped forward, “we can do this the easy way where no one gets harmed, or I can do this my way where I can just kill you both” he suggested. It only made things worse as Annie’s eyes lit up. MM walked towards Soldier Boy to get in his face. You moved quickly to get in between both.

“No! One death is already enough for tonight. I will go with you under one condition and that is for you not to harm my friends. It isn’t because I am scared of you.”

You stood your ground against Soldier Boy. If it were anyone else to have spoken to him the way you did right now he would have put them six feet underground by now. Though this is you, he remained quiet but his hands turned into fist and by how tight he formed them a small squeak was let out from the leather gloves he is wearing.

You heard the squeak and knew he was holding it in together. “Shall we, then?” you asked and motioned the direction they were heading towards to. You looked up at Soldier Boy who continued to stare. At this point it was getting annoying. You said nothing to him and walked away. Before the distance got greater you looked at MM and Annie.

“I will be okay, I promise.”

That was going to be the last time you will see them both until who knows when. You said nothing else, even when you all got to the car. Butcher drove and Hughie got the passenger side. You sighed and got in the back with Soldier Boy. It was a small space and with someone large such as Soldier Boy is sitting next to you the space is limited. Your knee was forced to touch his own. You ignored the way he kept moving his knee slowly as if he was trying to feel you. Butcher was explaining their next destination but they needed to find lounging for tonight. After some time in the road they found a motel in the middle of nowhere. Butcher checked them in.

“You are staying with me Soldier Boy, while Hughie stays with you” said Butcher to you. Hughie was okay with that and offered to sleep on the couch. Soldier Boy hated the idea.

“Fuck you, I am staying with her. I’m not about to share a bed with another set of balls and a dick.”

You rolled your eyes, “and what makes you think I want to?”

“Oh, please sweetheart. Playing hard to get doesn’t get you anywhere. Drop the attitude.”

“Make me.”

Butcher intervened, “alright, alright! All of us are staying in a room together. I will sleep on the floor, Hughie gets the couch, and both of you figure it out in the room. I am going to ask for a refund on one of the rooms.”

Butcher left to the main office while the rest walked towards the room. You entered and took a look around. It was clean, a little spacious, and there was only one bed. The argument began again.

“You are indestructible, a soldier, and have been sleeping for a long time already. You do not need the bed! You can sleep anywhere else!” you snapped.

At this point Hughie had given up in playing mediator.

“The bed is large enough for the both of us. Quit your whining!” Soldier Boy reasoned.

The argument continued until Butcher showed up and put an end to it. In the end you were going to share a bed with him. You sat down on your side and just watched the rest get comfortable. Butcher had clothes for Soldier Boy to change into.

“We have a long day tomorrow. Get some sleep” Butcher ordered. He turned off the lights. Hughie said goodnight to you and you said it back. You laid on the bed and felt it sink next to you. You turned and saw Soldier Boy smirk. You were ready to wipe the smirk off of his face.

“You know you can scoot in closer if it gets too cold. I don’t bite” he whispered the last part to you. You scoffed and turned to your side. There was not enough pillow to form some wall between you both. Eventually sleepiness took over the nerves, and you had fallen asleep.

Soldier Boy had yet to fall asleep. He was the last one awake. Everything that has happened in the past two days has been replaying over in his mind. He looked down at you sleeping so peacefully. Why were you acting like this? Why was he a stranger in your eyes? It has been a conflicting thought since the moment he laid eyes on you. Even now he wonders if this was a test and he was actually at the lab still. He was hoping it wasn’t.

You moved in your sleep and was facing him now. Hair had fallen onto your face. Slowly and lightly he moved it out of the way of your face. His finger stayed on your cheek; feeling your soft skin.

Whether this was a test or a dream, he knows he never wants to wake up for he has found you once again.

Next Chapter: Chapter Two

Author’s Note: Hello again! I hope everyone is enjoying this as much as I am. As you can tell we are following season three but there will be changes along the way. I chose to start on season three so we can see how it begins to unfold for Soldier Boy and reader. There will be lots of angst and drama soon. Just please be patient and thank you so much again for reading!

[veltana]

Groupie - Avengers!Bucky Barnes/Fan!Reader

✦ Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader ✦ Word count: ~3,6k ✦ Rating: Explicit ✦ Warnings: Avenger!Bucky, Avenger!Fan!Reader, secret crush, secret hero, fluff, smut, the tiniest bit of angst, misunderstandings, piv sex, breeding kink (I'm not messing around with this one), talk of getting reader pregnant, pet name (Bunny), dirty talk, sex with feelings, multiple orgasms (for both), unprotected sex, creampie. ✦ Summary: Since joining the Avengers you've been avoiding Bucky Barnes, afraid of what would happen if he ever learned the truth. ✦ Note: I have no idea how to tag this, so if I missed something please let me know. I don't know where this came from so just... it is what it is! This is also posted on AO3.

Masterlist | AO3

Stark called a meeting at the workshop in the evening to show off one of his new inventions that could aid them in the field. As you stand in the back and watch, Bucky comes up beside you, and just as always you discreetly take a small step to the side. Everyone, including Bucky, assumes you dislike him, and you are happy to keep up that front since admitting to the truth would be unprofessional and cause a lot more trouble than avoiding him.

He gives you a sideways glance but doesn’t mention it, he’s used to it by now. Unfortunately, you are still close enough to smell his cologne and it makes your pulse pick up. Unbidden images of being under him, smelling his sweat mixed with the perfume while he takes you apart appear inside your mind. Stark says something but you can’t concentrate with Bucky so close. Shifting even further to the side, he glances at you again and his brows draw together.

"I can go stand somewhere else if it bothers you so much," his tone is annoyed but low, to not disturb the demonstration. "No, it's fine," you mumble. "You forget I can hear your heart beating,” he points out. “And it sounds like a bunny rabbit backed into a corner by a wolf." That doesn't make you any calmer. If he can hear that, can he smell how aroused he makes you every time he gets close? "Sorry, I-" but your mouth has turned dry as a desert. You avoid speaking to Bucky as much as possible because you fear you will just make a fool out of yourself. As you’re doing right now.

"I never understood what you have against me," he crosses his arms, eyes on Stark's display. "Did I hurt someone close to you back in the day or are you afraid I'll revert and start killing again?" Shame fills your chest. You want to turn to him and hug him, explain that it’s not in any way like that. For years you have admired Bucky and when you had gotten the promotion to work with the Avengers your friends had teased you mercilessly about finally meeting your idol, but when you did and you realized that he was everything you had ever dreamed of you got scared. If he knew your secret he would most likely never speak to you again.

"It's not like that," you whisper, finally daring a look at him, but regretting it right away. His beautiful blue eyes are watching you. Quickly you avert your gaze. "You can't even look at me." And that is true. You always look at something else when Bucky is in the same room as you. The only time you allow yourself to admire him is when he's caught up in something else when there is no chance his attention will shift to you.

Just the small amount of it he is giving you right now is almost unbearable. You want to climb him, wrap your legs around his waist, grab his hair, and crush your lips to his. It's dangerous to be so close to him so you do the only thing you can. "I should go, I'm sorry," you mumble and turn on your heel, quickly exiting the workshop and heading for the elevators.

When you're inside your room you breathe a sigh of relief. That had been a close call. Your insides feel like melted ice cream and your knees get weak at remembering how he watched you. The only problem is that maybe you aren’t as smooth at avoiding him as you think, since he had noticed. You'd have to fix that somehow.

Kneeling at the side of your bed you reach in under it to pull out the box. It's discreet and if someone else found it they would probably assume it would be full of sex toys and the like. But a box full of toys would be mildly embarrassing compared to the actual content of the box.

Inside is a big photo book. Leaning against the bed frame you place it on your lap, opening it to the first page. You've tried to keep it in chronological order over the years and the first page contains a few news articles from the war where either the Howling Commandos or Bucky himself appear. You love to see how it starts with small mentions but then the articles grow bigger and bigger. It had been hard to track down some full spreads, not to mention expensive as fuck, and some things you were still saving up for.

Then there are the articles about the Winter Soldier. They needed to be in there, but you never read them. It was before anyone knew the truth about the mind control and the years of torture. The text described him as a killing machine with no morals, not caring who he hurt to get to his price. You quickly skip past those pages.

Your favorite part is the last bit of the album. Recent interviews and photoshoots with the super soldier, talking about his life and his struggles. Not to mention the stylists always made sure to show off his physic, be it suits or sportswear.

Inside the box are also a replica of his dog tags and the hat he'd worn with his uniform. Putting the tags over your head you play with them between your fingers, remembering how they look around his neck. In your previous apartment, they'd been hanging on the wall and your friends had joked about it being a shrine. Now you are too scared to have it on display. If someone sees it they will think you are insane.

You're startled from your musings by a knock on the door and without much thinking you put the book on the bed before opening it.

Bucky is standing on the other side. The demonstration must have ended. "What is your problem with me?" The words fail you as your heart starts hammering. He is too close, but if you back away he will probably take it as an invitation to come in and that would be disastrous. "I have barely spoken to you since you got here but you've managed to make it very clear how much you detest me. I just want to know why." He's annoyed and desperate at the same time. "Can I do something to fix it? I can't have a team member be afraid of me when we go out into the field and I… are those my dog tags?"

Ice rushes into your veins as you realize you forgot to take them off and you quickly cover them with your hand. "No," you lie. "They have my name on them." "No, they don't." "Are you serious?” Now he’s looking more mad. “Tell me what the fuck is going on right now."

You fucked up. You could keep on lying, close the door in his face, and never speak to him again. Ask for a transfer. Or you could show him. And then ask for a transfer. Because whatever you did you would not keep your job after this.

With trembling hands you open the door, releasing your hold on the dog tags and gesturing for him to come inside. "Sit," you murmur and when he does you place the book in his lap. He glances at you and for the first time you hold his gaze. This might be the last time you see him so you might as well take advantage of the moment. It will never happen again. "Open it."

As he hesitantly opens the first page you slip off the dog tags and place them into the box before sitting down too, with a decent amount of space between the two of you.

While he's occupied you study his face and try to commit it to memory. Bucky Barnes, in your room, on your bed, reading your album. It's a dream come true. Though you had hoped it would be after sex while you were still naked in bed, and you could take it out and show him. But this works too.

"This is extensive,” he sounds impressed and you hope he is. You wouldn’t say it’s your life's work but it’s something you worked hard on and is proud of. "I know." "When did you do this?" He looks at you. You shrug in response, "Over the years." "Years?" "I started it when I was in my early twenties.” "How did you find everything?" "The internet can be a wonderful place with like-minded people." "I can't imagine what it could have cost you." "I prefer not to think about it," you laugh.

He glances down into the box and then bends down to pick up the hat. "Please tell me this isn't the original one." "Oh god no, it's a replica!" "Can I try it?" "Please do!" Bucky puts the hat on, tips it to the side, and turns to you with a smile. It's impossible to not smile back when he looks so handsome. "Still fits you." "Feels odd. We used to wear them all the time, but I guess I've gotten used to a life without hats." He removes it and puts it back into the box before picking up the dog tags.

"I have a feeling you don't have these things because you hate me." "I don't hate you, it's quite the opposite." "Then why keep avoiding me?" You twist in your spot uncomfortably, not knowing what to say. "It's embarrassing. I never thought I would actually get to meet you when I started this collection." "I honestly feel honored. I'm not usually the person people think it's worth remembering." You tilt your head, "I do." "I can see that."

For a moment you look at each other and you get to experience what it feels like to drown in his eyes. Those blue magical pools that you've only ever studied on printed paper or through a screen. It could never compare to the real thing. Fearing you're going to say something more stupid you take the book from him. "So now you know," you say. "If you want me to transfer I'll happily put in a request. You were never meant to see it and I understand if it makes you uncomfortable around me." "No, that won't be necessary," he assures you. "But there is one thing I still don't get."

When you look up from your lap he's moved much closer. Too close again. His presence fills your senses in a way no one else has ever done. "What?" your voice almost cracks. "Why do you move away as soon as I get close?" His voice is low, as if not to scare you. With a wobbly laugh, you put the book down in between you and Bucky, scooting a bit away, studying the bedsheets.

"As you're doing now." "It's just, I like my personal space," you explain. "And you won't look at me." A single finger lands under your chin and tilt your head towards him. He's touching you. Bucky Barnes is touching you.

"Are you sure you aren't scared, Bunny?" "Ye-yeah," you swallow. "Because I think your heart is about to burst out of your chest." He moves the book out of the way and slides right up to you, until his leg is pressed against yours. The finger is still holding you in place, craning your neck to look at him. Your body flushes with heat. Now he's really touching you. "So what is it then?" There is a teasing in his voice, as if he knows but he wants to hear you say it.

Your tongue wet your dry lips and his focus shifts to that for a second. Opening your mouth to give him an answer, nothing comes out, not even the truth. "Bunny, you better answer me."

Finally, you find your voice. "I'm scared I won't be able to control myself," you confess. "And what would happen if you lost control?"

You close your eyes. You can't look at him when you speak. "I'll drop to my knees and beg to suck your cock." Bucky inhales sharply. "Or climb into your lap and beg you to fuck me. I'd let you do anything to me just to get a small taste. I'd ask you to use my body as you wanted and I won't need anything in return." "Fuck, Bunny. You have a dirty mind." "Sorry, I can't help that you smell so good and look so hot, it's too much."

His finger on your chin changes to a grip and you open your eyes, meeting his. They're filled with greed for something you don't understand. "You'd let me fuck you?" "Yes" "How about coming inside you?" "God yes!" "When was the last time you had tests done?" "Maybe a month ago? They were clean." "Any partner since then? Are you on birth control?" You hesitate for a moment. "Bunny?" "No… to both" Bucky laughs. "You would let me breed you, Bunny? Fuck you raw until you're bursting with my cum?"

The moan slips out unbidden. Just the thought of his raw dick inside you. Playing pregnancy roulette. It makes you so hot. "Yes, I would Bucky."

"Take off your clothes, lay on your back." You stare at him. "Is something unclear?" "You? And me? You want to have sex with me?" Something crosses over Bucky's face. "You don't have to." He reassures you. "No! I want to! I just… I never thought you'd want to. With me." "Well, you're wrong. And if you want to with me you better do as you're told."

Scrambling to take off your clothes you watch Bucky as he stands up and slowly starts doing the same. He's only gotten his shirt off by the time you're naked. "Spread your legs, let me see."

You pull your knees up and let them fall to the side. The stickiness from your arousal has already coated the inside of your thighs. You're sure you've never been this wet before in your life.

"Bunny's got a cute little pussy on her." Bucky's smile is predatory like he is an actual white wolf stalking its prey. He's down to his boxers now, his erection outlined through the cotton. It's big. "Don't look scared, we'll make it fit, I promise."

When his boxers are off too you can't help but stare but you’re more excited than anything else. The pulse in your cunt doesn't care if it’s going to hurt, there is only one thing on your mind. "I want your cock Bucky," you tell him. "Don't worry, you'll get it." He crawls on top of you, keeping his weight on his forearms and his body off of yours. "But I'm going to kiss you first."

His lips are soft but his kiss is demanding. It leaves no room for hesitation that he doesn't want you. Quickly he works your mouth open and moans when his tongue finds yours. You put your hands in his hair, guiding him to where you want his mouth. Then he descends your body, nipping at your jaw, sucking on your neck before finding your breasts. One hand is warm and the other is cold as he presses them together, caressing the nipples with his thumbs, making you keen and shudder. He uses his mouth to pull more sounds from you, licking, sucking, and dragging his teeth lightly against the stiff peaks, until your naked pelvis bucks up against his upper body, trying to find friction for the need he causes in you.

"You need something, Bunny?" "I need you to fuck me!" "It would be better for you if you come first." "No, I need it now! Stretch me with your cock Bucky, please I need it so bad!"

In a second he's kissing you again, feverishly, and this time he lets his body sink down on yours, his thick shaft brushing your wet center, making both of you shudder. Bucky reaches down and uses his hand to guide the tip to your opening. "Tell me if it hurts and we'll stop." "Promise." You relax into the bed, spreading your legs, and watch Bucky's face as he pushes into you.

He's big, but you're also incredibly wet. Your body slowly gives for his intrusion. There is a slight sting but it quickly turns into pleasure as he fills you. "So big!" you moan and experimentally move against him. "Fuck, Bunny, this is the tightest pussy I fucking ever felt. You're going to be the death of me." "Make me come first, then you can die." With a grunt, he pulls back and pushes in, carefully to get you used to him, but it’s not what you want or need.

"Move, please move. Fuck me Bucky!" you beg and he does. Not in your wildest fantasies could you predict this sensation. So full. So good. Bucky groaning above you. His warm skin under the palms of your hands. The sound of your arousal mixing with the sound of skin meeting skin.

"I'm already leaking into your cunt Bunny. It feels so good." "Yes, Bucky!" "Did you know I have almost zero recovery time? I just need a quick breather after coming before I can go again." With a moan, you wrap your legs around him. "I'm going to fill you with so much cum you'll be drunk on it." He leans down until he's right by your ear.

"I'll breed you all night long. And I'll continue to do it every night until you're pregnant." "Bucky!" "You fucking like that, I can feel how tight you get!"

Shaking your head you try to deny it, but carrying his baby would be the ultimate fantasy. "Please make me full of you! I want a baby Bucky. Make me fucking pregnant with our child!"

"Dirty! Fucking! Mind!" He says through gritted teeth, punctuating every word with a particularly hard thrust. "More!" You cry as the pressure inside you builds. Bucky quickly sits up on his knees, grabbing your hips, pulling you onto his dick as he thrusts inside you. "Yes! Yes! Yes!" you chant. "Make me come, Bucky! Please! More!"

"Bunny!" he warns. "You better fucking come before me, I can't hold it with your tight cunt squeezing me like that!" Desperately you start rubbing your clit and a moment later everything explodes through your body. With an unearthly wail, you find your release and Bucky quickly follows, cursing and roaring while he pumps you full.

The world is unsteady for a moment but then it rights itself. Bucky's head is thrown back as he heaves in lungfuls of air and you're no better where you're lying. He's not soft inside you yet and maybe he won't even go down.

"That was…" you begin but then shake your head with a stupid smile on your lips. "Better than you thought it would be?" He asks. "A million times better." "Good because we're not done." He releases your hips to once again lean down over you, kissing you much softer this time, moving his hips slower. It makes you keen into his mouth with the delicious stretch and the wetness of his release adding to the feeling. It leaks onto the sheets as he fucks you but you don't mind. At the end of all this, your sheets will probably need to be burned.

"Bunny, fuck, Bunny, look at me," Bucky demands and you do. He's close enough that you share a breath. "So fucking pretty. My little groupie." Despite the situation you laugh. "Aren't you?" "Absolutely Bucky, I'm your groupie." "Only mine?" "Of course! I don't have any more boxes under the bed." "Good." He rests his head at the crook of your neck, his hot breath ticking your skin and you close your eyes and enjoy the feeling of him surrounding you. Soon another orgasm works its way through your body. You don't scream this time, instead, you whisper in his ear how fucking good it feels, how he's filling you so well, and how you want him to breed you.

Moments later Bucky bursts inside you for the second time. He takes a minute before he rolls the two of you over so you're on top. The strength in your body is nearly gone but Bucky's serum keeps him going. And he keeps his promise. All through the night, he fills you and by the time the sun starts rising, he pulls one last weak orgasm from you before stopping.

"So fucking pretty," he muses as he spreads you open to watch the cum run out of you, before pushing some of it back in with his fingers, making you whine. With a chuckle, he wipes it off on the sheets, and then looks around. "I don't think we can sleep in this bed, Bunny. Where's your pajamas?" It's a miracle you're still awake but you point to the clothes on the chair. Bucky finds you some underwear and dresses you, before carrying you to his room. There he makes you take a shower but afterward, he doesn't let you get dressed again. "I need your skin against mine," he says as he spoons you.

Several hours later you wake up, sore but in the best way. The bed is empty and you must have slept through Bucky waking up. With a giggle, you roll onto your back and that's when you feel something around your neck. Confused, you look down and find his dog tags against your bare skin. The smile on your face must be really stupid as you fiddle with them between your fingers. Who could have known meeting your hero would turn out like this?

[janearts]

ASDLKFJADKJ I love how you two immediately jumped to 'ok but like... is he #4 material?' (For those wondering, "What The Hell Is A #4?", the answer is linked here for reference.)

(The way to a woman's heart is through her favourite animal, obviously.)

Halsin is very much Roisia's type physically—aka large and in charge—and he has character traits that she would be attracted to: he's kind and compassionate, strong-willed and decisive, gentle and slow to anger, and in possession of a wry sense of humour and a keen intellect. So, yes, in that regard, Halsin definitely stands next to Wyll on the "suitable suitor to bring home" list. Top tier. Well done.

Additional rambling thoughts below the cut.

The trouble with Roisia when it comes to matters of the heart is that she unwittingly looks at a person, thinks she knows their true desires, can play out their combined future in her head, and judge them as compatible or incompatible without questioning her basic assumptions about that person. So, for example, Roisia would in many ways find Halsin an ideal romantic partner. And then, she would get into her own head. Like so:

Halsin is an archdruid. An elf accustomed to leading a notoriously outdoorsy lifestyle in a grove. Roisia is going to someday inherit an entire funerary business and wants to stay in Baldur's Gate, known for being not-at-all grove-like. Surely Mr. Outdoorsman will feel cooped up and miserable in a city if he thought the Grove was too comfortable for his tastes. Incompatible!

Halsin is all about the Natural Order of Things. Balance. Guess who disrupts said natural order when she takes dead things and reanimates them? Roisia. Roisia does. So they're at opposite ends of an ideological spectrum. Incompatible!

He's an elf; she's a human. They are on two different timelines as regards their lifespan. Unless Roisia can guarantee her own extended lifespan in a way that preserves the flesh on her bones in addition to her bones, she wants to grow with her #4 and not outpace her #4. Incompatible!

Again, these are assumptions that Roisia would make about Halsin, and I think she would ultimately write him off as a potential #4 more out of fear of some future rejection down the line than of Halsin necessarily explicitly confirming any of these assumptions to be true OR as relationship dealbreakers if they were. I want to shout out to @gracelessrogue for their tags:

It would not occur to Roisia that she could bond with a druid and a healer over life and death. If she would only think to challenge her own baseline assumptions about what she thinks she knows about the people she's travelling with, I think she would see the ways in which she could nurture long-term romantic connections with one or multiple of our possible companions.

Because, as it is, I think the larger issue is that Roisia would write off not just Halsin, but all the current known companions as not being a good fit for her #4. I don't think she would look at any of them and say: 'This person would stay with me in the city of Baldur's Gate and be totally, completely comfortable and content in a house with bodies in the basement, my skeleton father roaming the halls, and a graveyard right out back.'

Granted, it's still only Act 1/EA, but that's just a real bummer.

[miukki960]

I'm gonna make this post before I go in the tag and see ANY God or Diew slander, because for me the conflict this episode not only made sense, but was necessary for their relationship to move forward.

The seed was planted long ago when God first found the picture of Diew and Dr. Asshole, and at first God handled it rationally (as expected of our Green Flag King). But the longer the situation went unresolved, the more doubt and insecurity began to creep in until it all came to a head in this episode, because all God needed was honesty and openness from Diew, but Diew has learned from past conditioning to lock those parts of himself away and only show a surface level of his personality and self.

I found that God's argument with Diew, while definitely escalated by emotion and insecurity, was justified at its core. We've learned throughout this story that God's main love language is Quality Time, and that most often is fulfilled by God genuinely enjoying doing anything and everything with the people he loves, so long as they are having a good time. But his conversation with Dr. Asshole put the idea in his mind that Diew has simply been going with the flow and doing whatever God suggested in order to make him feel good, that he hasn't actually enjoyed their time together. And while we as an audience know that's false, the idea is one of God's worst fears and most devastating nightmares.

But he loves Diew and doesn't want to believe it's true, so he gives him multiple chances to prove him wrong. And when Diew continues to reply with lies and deflection, it unfortunately proves him right. Because while the context is a bit off and there is definitely a misunderstanding at play, at the end of the day Diew isn't being honest and isn't trusting God enough to open up and show him the deeper, more emotional parts of himself. So God comes to the only conclusion he can see, that even if Diew is no longer in love with Dr. Asshole, their love was deeper and more meaningful than what he has with God now.

But don't get me wrong! Even though Diew was choosing the wrong dialog options during his argument with God, he was also justified in choosing to keep his secrets and emotions hidden. What God doesn't know is that Diew HAS opened up before, bared his heart and soul to someone he thought he loved and trusted, and what was he rewarded with? Disinterest, deflection, shame. As someone with major anxieties related to human interaction, you only have to burn him once to teach him to never play with fire again. And Dr. Asshole burned him deeply on multiple occasions.

No amount of kindness and sweetness and love from God was gonna convince him to play with fire again. In fact, it was reaffirming. Much like what we have been seeing with Wan towards Beer, I'm sure Diew sees how good and wonderful God is and is absolutely terrified to fuck it up. But just like Wan, his defense became his biggest downfall.

At the end of the day, rather than focusing on what happened, we should instead focus on why it happened and how the characters are going to grow from it. And we can see that how through the characters actions during the last few minutes of the episode. We see Diew, who's defense is to isolate, actively reaching out to God multiple times in multiple ways, ready to explain and open up and heal. And we see God going through the more nasty, volatile parts of his emotions alone, so he doesn't hurt Diew while he's in the wrong headspace, but also doesn't bottle the bad things to explode later.

I think what gets me the most is that in their very last conversation before the end of the episode, Diew was asking for togetherness and God was asking for space, and they were both upset on many levels, but they were still speaking to each other with love in their tone and words.

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook: Restless 🔞

In which Jungkook is simply restless, especially when making love to you.

Tags/Warnings: WAY MORE ANGST WHY IS IT SO ANGSTY, Idol!Jungkook, ADHD sex position challenge I guess?, Roma made me do it, obviously smut, multiple positions duh, primal feel?, angsty sex, denial is a river in egypt, protected sex (reader has an IUD), cum, body fluids oops, sweat?, he cums inside and outside lol, biting, manhandling, oops my hand slipped and now I wrote porn with feels again

Length: 1.6k baby, look at that

-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶--⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶

In the time of knowing him, Jungkook had always been restless.

He can't sit still for long, can't concentrate on one thing only, has to do something at all times it seems. Only sometimes, rarely, does he become lazy or tired, it seems. You cherish those moments just as much as the rest of the time you spend with him.

Now, you and Jungkook aren't necessarily.. a thing, at least not traditionally. He worries a lot; about his job, about you, about what could happen to the both of you if anything ever went public. But there's also this sinful feeling of doing something you're not supposed to, like a kid sneaking candy behind their parents backs. There's no denial even for you that you can't help but go back every single time. The feeling of longing sometimes just.. overwhelming.

You know this is gonna hurt you at some point. Maybe it won't hurt him as much, but it will hurt you, most definitely. He's sacrificed a lot and often throughout his lifetime already- who says he won't sacrifice you as well?

He's an Idol, a performer, singer, entertainer. He's made for the stage, made to be loved by millions, and you'd never force him to forget about that and leave this life behind. No. He's got it all, and he deserves it all. It's going to be fine. You'll just enjoy the times you have with him, the memories you're making.

It's not just sex, after all. You both often simply spend time with each other as friends as well. And you believe that that's what he actually sees you as- a friend, who's just a bit more intimate than a friend should be. And while his love might just be a daydream made up by your head to make your heart hurt less, his lust for you is most definitely real.

You don't know why he finds you so attractive, and you'll probably never fully understand it. Maybe it's because you're.. there. You're available. You're all he gets in this life, without fearing the consequences.

Jungkook is an old-school romantic with a twist here and there. He holds doors for you, helps you sit down at the dinner table whenever he cooks, opens tightly closed jars for you. He's a horribly cruel man in that department- because he always gives you attention, and something that might feel like it could potentially be love- but it's not. It's just a plastic rose that's going to catch dust at some point, never to bloom and never to rot either.

It'll just be thrown away, polluting the environment. Just like him leaving you one day will pollute your heart with feelings heavy and burning like molten lava, merciless.

"I- fuck." He gasps out as he halters his hips for a second, grip on them loosening as he kisses down your spine, your back arching downwards as you fall into the pillows below, entire bed already a mess. He's out of breath, and so are you- but you know he's not done with you yet. He's never just a hit-and-run kind of guy. He works his body until it literally gives in, never satisfied with just a one-time-high with you.

And he's also a carnal lover, raw and untamed.

He bites your skin, marks it up for you to remember, but also for himself to admire. Unbeknownst to you, he's hopelessly in love with you, no matter how hard he tries to distract himself, or scold his own emotions for acting out like that. You're just going to get hurt, and he knows this. He wants to end it every single time, but he also crawls back to you every night it seems, desperate to feel your skin beneath his fingertips, taste you on his tongue. He's starving, even though he's currently taking his fill.

Maybe that's why he feels so desperate every time he's with you like this. Maybe that's why he feels as if nothing is ever enough. As if he can't get close enough.

It scares him, admittedly.

With his hands on your hips, he slips out of your heat, obscene sounds accompanying every movement as he maneuvers you onto your back, hands pushing your knees apart in an impatient manner, before he slips back inside. With his knees digging into the mattress below, he holds your wrists close, pulls you into every thrust like that, jaw clenched and eyes unmoving, focused on you and the way you look.

Divine. Enchanting. Absolutely beautiful.

He wants to cry at how your skin seems like it's made of glass with the slight layer of sweat. He used to hate it on himself, used to hate it on others as well, but in a weird way, when it comes to intimacy with you, nothing seems to bother him at all. Not your slick coating his thighs. Not your spit drooling down his length whenever you give him head. Not the cum he covers you with at the end of every round.

He wants it all. He wants you.

His knees seem to ache after just a few moments, muscles itching to move in other ways as he pulls out yet again, making you whine. "I can't-" He stammers, unsure what he wants to say. He doesn't know why he's especially restless this time. It's like nothing feels quite right.

Until you climb onto his lap, pushing back his chest to get into a proper position to ride him. It's moments like these that simply hurt him, because you're always so attentive to his needs. You don't seem to need any verbal communication with him at all to know what he needs, what he wants.

And yet, you're oblivious of his feelings, or so he thinks.

He wants to keep you safe, hold you close, show you off and hide you at the same time. He just wants you, nothing else, and that's not just his lust speaking for him.

No, he's not like that. He knows what's right and what's wrong. He knows when to listen to his heart, and when to ignore it. But with you, he can't. It's all so loud, his thoughts, his feelings, his brain won't shut up about you it feels like.

He sits up with you again, pushes you closer by the small of your back, crosses his legs and finally kisses you again.

He keeps kissing to a minimum most of the time, hates how good it feels, how comfortable it is, how much it affects him. Your lips are so soft, moving in perfect sync, and when you tease his piercing or bite his lip, he just can't help but growl out because you just have to be sent from hell by the devil himself with the mission to drive him mad.

There's no way a person can fill his mind and body up like this simply by existing.

He's desperate by now. His cum already sticks to your tits, has already made its way down to your belly, some of it even rubbed off on his own chest, but he still isn't satisfied. He's close, so close, and his muscles are yelling at him to stop and rest, but he can't stop now.

"You close?" He murmurs between his open mouthed kisses, lips traveling along your jawline now before his head falls into the crook of your neck, teeth gripping any flesh he can as he marks you up. You just whine, and nod. You stopped trying to count your highs with him. It's surely never just one, however, that much you're sure of.

You know by now how to tell when he's close as well. His actual end, that is.

The muscles in his thighs tremble visibly under the stress he's forcing them under. The veins along his arms and hands are prominent, sweat dripping along his neck and chest. He will become more vocal, start to whine, even growl, hips becoming erratic as he collects every little last drop of strength to make sure you'll finish alongside him. "Hold it." He demands, teeth clenched together as he suddenly becomes more forceful, the sound of skin against skin loud and obscene echoing off his bedroom walls, as you whimper beneath him. "Fucking hold it.!" He growls out, palms grabbing your thighs before they slip beneath the small of your back, lifting you up a little for that very specific angle he knows will send him off the edge. "Cum baby, fuck!" He finally tells you, before your hips start to move erratically, no longer under your control as your orgasm hits you full force.

You don't notice the way his cum stays inside, this time. Because he doesn't pull out, keeps you close, falls to his side with you in his arms.

He doesn't know why he feels so incredibly emotional this time. As if he just cant hold himself together anymore, if he doesn't have his arms around you. The room smells like sex, air stuffy, bodies awfully slick from your entire endeavor. Usually, it ends like this. Usually, he will part from you, shower by himself to give you time to get your strength back up enough to clean yourself up after him. He hates leaving you on your own like that, wants to care for you before and after the act because that's how you're supposed to be treated, but he knows, the longer he keeps you close in a headspace like that, the more he will end up hurting.

But tonight, he can't bring himself to leave you.

Tonight, he holds you tenderly, kisses fluttering against your bare shoulder, as he feels your breath start to even out.

Tonight, he will clean you up first, before he will change the sheets and shower himself.

Tonight, he will let you sleep in his bed together with him while he airs out the room, cold chills forcing you both under the covers that smell like fresh laundry and unfulfilled dreams.

Tonight, he will let you have his heart.

Tonight, he will break.

And so will you.

-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶--⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶

[spop-romanticizes-abuse]

(i kept forgetting to make this post for a while and only remembered when i was reading @antispopausandstuff 's recent post; sorry for the tag!)

i have to say this: catra having a mental breakdown basically every single season was pathetic.

usually villains have a third-act breakdown where they realize that they're losing to the heroes or they're losing control over their own allies, and they spiral into anger and desperation.

azula's spiralling in s3 of atla is a clear example of this, as she goes from the level-headed, cunning prodigy to a child who has lost everyone in her life and is desperately trying to use fear to keep people around. it's tragic because yes, she's a horrible person who enjoys torturing people and seeing them in pain, but she's also a 13 year old who was groomed into the perfect soldier by her father.

not all third-act breakdowns are like this though. sometimes instead of feeling bad for the villain, we feel satisfied seeing their downfall, because they weren't a sympathetic character in the slightest and they deserved to have that realization right before getting their ass whooped.

with catra, i get neither of these. i guess i felt a little bad for her the first time and i felt satisfied the second time, but then it just got boring.

there was no need for her to have a meltdown in every single season, only for the writers to use it as an excuse to make catra do even worse shit and hurt more people.

not to mention, her mental state wasn't consistent enough during these breakdowns. let me explain. let's take the s3 one, for instance.

catra is clearly rattled by the knowledge that shadow weaver picked adora over her (which.. wow who would have thought. but whatever). she is dissociating as she walks back to scorpia, there are tears in her eyes, she's devastated.

but then, as soon as catra reaches the horde with adora as her prisoner, she seems perfectly fine. she's calm and smirking proudly as she throws a bound adora to the floor.

and then when entrapta tries to oppose catra's attempts at opening the portal, oh no! catra is not mentally well again and she electrocutes entrapta. and she threatens to do the same to scorpia.

and then she goes right back to being calm and tells hordak that entrapta betrayed him (i'm sorry i don't care how good at lying someone is, i doubt they can deliver such a convincing lie when they are in a poor mental state) and mocks him for trusting entrapta.

and then throughout the portal sequence, catra is oddly calm. not just during the false reality, when she was pretending that everything was normal, but even after that when she starts sadistically torturing adora.

this doesn't seem like a character who finally snapped and is doing horrible things in a desperate attempt to regain control. it reads as a character who always wanted to do horrible things and finally got the chance to do it.

i can't view catra's breakdown in s3 as sympathetic because her actions seemed so intentional. the writers didn't even try to make it look like catra was going through some serious mental health issues and was only making such a dangerous choice because of that.

coming back to my original point, repeating a trope (especially a one-time trope like this) quickly gets stale. and it's even funnier when you think about the fact that catra basically had a dedicated mental breakdown every season and still didn't learn her lesson.

you stop feeling sorry for her and start rolling your eyes, wondering what atrocities she's going to commit this time. it's just the same thing over and over again, and it's funny that the writers used this as a way to keep reminding viewers that catra is a poor traumatized baby who definitely didn't make the choices that led to all this.

it's just bad writing. sure, in real life, people may have multiple breakdowns if they going through some shit. i can certainly attest. but it just doesn't work from a story point of view, especially when the writers refuse to hold catra accountable for your actions. mental health issues or not, you are responsible for your actions and you should work on changing your unhealthy coping mechanisms.

[fillinforlater]

Loathing Love: Lavish Lies (Part 4)

Male Reader x Kwon Eunbi + Kang Hyewon x Jo Yuri

Length: 9060 words

Tags: emotional drama, smut, cheating, alcohol, rage, anger issues, bisexuality, girl x girl relationship, girl x girl action, threesome, literal breeding, mating press, face sitting, squirting, clit play, dirty talk, the dumbest, most improbable sex ever, this is NOT real life, very dark ending

TW: includes topics like cheating, alcohol, sex and death

Inspiration: "Look at Me" by XXXTENTACION, Hyewon x Yuri best ship, gay power couple; this had to be released in Pride Mont (glad I could make it lol), also @capslocked ; @iznsfw, I'm sorry.

(A/N: THE FINALE of my L4 Series. It's finally here. The promise is fulfilled. I hope you get the ending and don't hate me. It's all fiction.)

“Look at me, fuck on me / Look at me, fuck on me / Look at me, fuck on me.”

Volume decreased by eighty percent. You don’t need someone screaming in your ears right now. It only makes you want to scream back. The poor guy has been dead for almost five years now, he doesn’t really deserve it. If you’re honest to yourself, he feels way too on point. Better turn the radio off entirely.

His voice still resonates in your mind, as you get out of the car. Combined with Hyewon’s and Yuri’s moans, they form an inglorious, deadly symphony to fuel your hatred. Visuals of you screaming, scratching, beating fragile, pale skin pop up in your mind. This wave of emotions, it’s crashing in on you like a tsunami. Sadly, it doesn’t bury you. It only makes you angrier.

Push open the door and Eunbi gasps. She kneels on the living room floor, right next to the carpet. Her clothes are in tatters, her knees covered in bruises, but worst of all, her face is ruined with scratches, blood and runny mascara. It looks like someone already did the things you imagined in your head: beat her up and left her whimpering on the floor. The punishment for someone who cheats and lies.

Grab Eunbi’s lifeless arm and pull it up. Your fiance begins to cry, she begs not with words but with her eyes. The way she shakes her head is in honest fear. The potential strikes scare her, how your palm will meet her face over and over again in a loveless, hurt beating.

But you sigh.

"I can't," you squeeze out, voice cracking with every word. "I hate seeing you like this. You deserve to be thrown out and beg for money on the street. But I can't, I—"

You pull Eunbi into a hug. Her small frame melts into your arms, her feet unable to support her. She is like a wet sack, surprisingly heavy. You're barely able to drag her to the couch and watch her whimper and cry, face hidden behind her elbow.

"I still love you, Eunbi.

"Let's try again."

"Y-yes," she sobs and tightly grabs your shirt.

"Let's marry, Eunbi."

"Y-yes, th-thank you."

#

The proposal might have been a mess, but the marriage was not. Everything was meticulously planned, and even the tiniest details went perfectly. No one knew of Eunbi's affair, and you kept it this way. 

Even after your marriage, your luck did not run out. Everything was working out. Two promotions in a year, a new, bigger house, two cars, a part time job for Eunbi that she really enjoys. Talking about Eunbi, she became attentive, caring, adoring, loving to the point where your wound began to heal.

Eight months into your marriage, you became an actor.

No, not the type that moves to Hollywood, swims in money and earns fame with every new movie. The type who has to act all day every day. You have to pretend that it's all fine, smile at everyone, always say the right things—

Acting is lying. You lie to them, because you cannot live with her lying to you.

Eunbi does not know about the abundance of security cameras you installed around and inside the house. They are tiny, but very modern and always connected to your phone for constant surveillance of your expensive home.

Not a single criminal has tried to enter your home—but multiple other 'criminals' entered something else.

At first, it was one guy. Tall, handsome, expensive suit. Eunbi greeted him with a smile. You watched the footage quite confused. The two of them sat down in the living room and talked for a bit. It looked like he tried to sell her something, but it also looked fake, like they were—

Role playing.

A minute later, Eunbi's arms and feet were wrapped around him as he drilled his cock deep inside her cunt. There was no sound, but you could see her moan and scream as he went faster.

Three weeks later, another guy. He seemed to not like role playing. Eunbi opened the door and his tongue was in her mouth immediately. They fucked all over the kitchen, on every damn counter. At least this guy was somewhat attractive.

Things got horrible after this. Guy after guy walked into your home and fucked your wife. Hole after hole, day after day. Whenever you were at work and she wasn't, a cock was inside her. One time, someone seemed to comment on her hair and the next day she went to dye it blonde. 

That was also the day you decided to not touch her anymore. You stay at work longer, until late at night. Work frees your mind a little, and soon they will promote you to the second highest position. 500k after taxes, seemingly infinite money, yet you still weep and down whiskey each night watching guys go to town on her.

Today, two guys arrived together. They spit roasted her on the bed, which was already covered in her juices and sweat from another guy an hour before. 

The video flashes before your dead eyes. You drop another piece of ice into the glass, watch the auburn whiskey sway and cool. Down it goes as Eunbi gets ready to take a cock up her loose asshole. For the first time, you look at the new guy who groans as Eunbi takes his cock.

His smug grin. It's the same motherfucker, the one you caught with Eunbi a bit over a year ago. 

For the first time, you stop your mindless staring at the screen. You pause the security footage as rage builds up at this stupid expression on this stupid face. Without hesitation, you reach for the glass and repeatedly smash it into the screen. It breaks in violent sparks and the room goes fully dark. 

You tear the screen off the wall, the same way you tear out the self-pity in your sorrow-filled heart. A violent kick sends the monitor into the computer and the thousand dollar set-up is reduced to broken scrap metals and torn wires.

The entire office is suddenly so dark and silent. Not that you were watching with sound, but the vivid pictures produced enough sounds in your head. It's all gone now, together with the dirty light displaying dirty pleasure. 

Don't lie to yourself; this was stupid. But as much as it was stupid, it was also necessary and it felt so right. Even though your favorite whiskey glass fell victim to your rampage, you don't regret it. You need more of this.

Throughout the entire night, you continue to mess up your workplace. You stuff bins and trash cans with everything in your office: Semi-important documents, plants, cables, liquor, chairs and especially all the unnecessary, lavish accessoires you gathered here for some reason. At dawn, the only thing that remains is a table, a chair, a laptop with a charger and a bottle of water. A frugal set-up, but more than enough for your job.

At 6:30 am, you arrive at home and jump right into bed, next to your snoring wife. With a quick glance you check her hand; the ruby embellished gold ring sparkles at her finger. A real, absurdly expensive piece of jewelry on a fake piece of shit, you think but smile nonetheless. There is some irony about it that you can't pin down yet, but you'll look for it a bit more.

#

A knock at your door. 

"Come on in," you say without looking up from your screen. It's probably the intern again, asking for help or another task. To your surprise, it's someone far more important.

"Still feels weird, when you remember what this room used to look like." A man, two decades older than you and a decade more work experience in this company carefully scoots into your office and wanders around it. "It's surprisingly vast."

You close your laptop when the man does not watch. It's out of respect, but for some reason, you do not fear him anymore. His name is Sakimoto, member of the board of directors and chairman of the staff council. Usually, there is only one reason for him to come into your office himself—and it's not a good one.

"How can I help you, Mr. Sakimoto?" you say with an insincere smile.

"Tell me," he responds, eyes wide in either insanity or genuine interest, hard to tell with someone like him. "Why did you throw it all away? It looks like a cell."

"It—to be honest, I—

"Well that's the point. None of the stuff is helpful in any way, even worse, it's distracting, unnecessary bullshit that keeps me from focusing. I don't need it, I don't want it anymore."

Sakimoto nods at your words, his expression never changing, not even at the use of your obscene slip. Maybe being a psychopath is a job requirement for Sakimoto's position. You can't bear to look at his slight smile and wide orbs any longer.

"Intriguing," he finally says and turns towards your door again. "You'll be at the board meeting tonight, 8pm flat."

"Yes, Sir," you calmly say, something grinding on your nerves as Sakimoto leaves without saying goodbye or closing the door. That's it, career over.

#

They’re gonna fire me, fuck.

This thought knocks on your mind the entire day, only getting stronger with every step you take towards the meeting room. Someone must have noticed your indefensible, erratic behavior, but how? Everyone was gone that night like they all are every night. You made sure of it by checking the nearby offices of your subordinates and co-workers. You even made sure to stuff all your furniture and electronics down to the bottom of the waste containers.

Maybe the board had a meeting and someone heard something? Fuck, that can’t be it, can it?

Deep breaths, calm breaths. If they know what happened, your fate is decided. You have enough money anyways. Other companies will still take you. You’re gonna be okay, this is just a small hit, a dent in the fast, unstoppable car that is you. If you’re honest, it’s a lot easier when you don’t care about the passenger or who she is fucking.

Bang the door thrice with confidence. The silence behind it becomes even more quiet, until someone urges you to enter in a strict, booming voice.

“You are a bit early,” the CEO says from the far end of the long table, his back to the setting sun visible through large windows behind him. The other board members look at you, some with a perfect poker face as if they are in serious business talks, others seem amused, maybe even a little tipsy, but what surprises you the most are those who look at you in anger and fear as if you were the grim reaper, coming for their souls.

“Better than being too late,” you respond with charme, your calm heart picking up in pace. 

“That is true!” the vice-CEO shouts and most board members fall into a short fit of laughter. They seem so odd, maybe they are making fun of you before forcing you to sign the resignation. You can already see the stack of paper in the CEO’s hand.

“Enough of this nonsense,” the CEO shouts. The laughs evaporate instantly, yet somehow, the positive vibes remain. The vice-CEO is grinning at you, even the CEO himself cracks a smile. He gets up from his chair, the paper firmly in both of his hands, and walks around the table towards you. Your feet seem to grow roots as he stops before you.

“Congratulations, Mr. Kwon,” he says cheerfully and hands you an—

“Official Invitation to the Board of Directors,” you read out loud in utter disbelief. 

“Mr. Kwon, why do you sound so shocked?” someone in the back asks and the CEO nods towards them with a sly grin.

“I did not inform him about our vote last week. Even Mr. Sakimoto only told him to be here today.

“Mr. Kwon, do you accept our invitation? You will be the thirteenth member, as Mr. Muentrich-Schleuser will resign next month. We all think that you are physically and mentally capable, have the pedigree and skill and most importantly, the outstanding drive to push this company forward. The growth in your department has been unmatched the past few months.”

The smooth, freshly printed piece of paper is in your hand. The other members gradually rise from their seats, all looking at you intently. They seemed so much bigger, when you entered the room, but now they are just like you. All you have to do is take the CEO’s stretched out hand, and you’ll be atop a mountain you never even dreamed of reaching. 

“D-do I have any other choice?” you say cooly, only your stutter betrays your facade. A couple of chuckles, the CEO looks at the ceiling and pretends to think.

“Well, you can’t go back to your apartment, as your successor has already been chosen. You could be transferred to Japan and lead the department there. It’d be the same pay as here but—”

He leans closer to whisper.

“—you’d have to pay more taxes there.

“What will it be, Mr. Kwon?”

#

You find yourself on the road again. Somehow, fate has you connected to your car. Whenever something big happened or is about to happen, you find yourself sitting in it, music blasting loud and numbing everything out. Tonight however, you purposefully turn the radio off and drive carefully. 

Let me celebrate somewhere; but where?

You won’t go home to your wife of course. She is more than undeserving to celebrate this moment with you. Most of your other friends and relatives are either asleep already or would ask stupid questions about Eunbi and why she isn’t celebrating alongside you. No, you need someone to not ask you about anything and just parties the night away.

Ah fuck it; strangers will do.

Park your car at the side of the road, don’t care for a ticket, hell, don’t give a fuck if someone decides to steal it. It’s used and you can easily buy a new one tomorrow if you want to. You wander down the street, busy with party-goers, drunk, high or both, some are a lot more focused and carry their drunk, high or both friends home. You loosen your tie, no need to look formally if everyone around you doesn’t either.

Suddenly, a familiar sight, a wooden structure with warm lights and that unmistakable smell. It’s almost nostalgic, magnetic, unavoidable, you just have to walk in there. As you grab the handle of the door and see the long, smooth, wooden counter, it hits you.

Oh my God.

“Oh, wow, haven’t seen you here in forever,” the bartender says when he sees you. His face hasn’t changed, his smile is the same, but you need a few moments to really recognize him again.

He takes a step back and smirks, firm grasp on a bottle of tequila.

“Well, yes, it has,” you respond and walk up to him. “It has easily been a year since my last visit, how the fuck do you remember me?”

“I have this tendency to remember people, especially because you were the last man to ever take her backstage.”

He winks and you throw your head back. Time flies, it really does, yet you find yourself sitting on the exact same stool on a very similar night with the same bartender. Even your wife is still a whore, fucking the same guys, probably right now as well. 

“So I take it that Hyewon is not coming here anymore?” you sigh and point at an expensive bottle of wine. The bartender swiftly uncorks it.

“I did not say that. She is just a lot more, let’s call it, picky. Okay, you know what?”

With an elegant pour he fills you a glass and places the dark ruby liquid on the counter before continuing.

“You can ask her yourself. She’ll be on stage in a couple minutes.”

A waft of wine hits your nostrils, but it’s a lot weaker than the words coming from his mouth. The thought of Hyewon blows you away, stronger than any liquor, no matter how high the amount of alcohol or the years it has matured. Hyewon, the kind stranger, the hot stranger, the stranger to fuck your stress out. Hyewon, the crazy friend, the bisexual friend, the let's-have-a-bar-backstage- threesome-with-this-hot-singer-friend. She was a big reason why you got over Eunbi cheating on you—but it has sadly not led you to the brightest of futures.

Maybe I should have stayed with her.

Take a sip of the wine. It’s delicious, celebratory, a drink for victors who have gained status and wealth beyond imagination, and you are now part of that group. At least you feel like it, even as the bar gets flooded with more and more people from all walks of life. Some look as well-dressed as you are, others clearly struggle to make ends meet in some months, but they're all here for the same thing.

Wait, what is Hyewon going to do on stage? Is she going to sing?

As you still wonder and savor the wine, one of the waitresses moves from light switch to light switch and slowly but surely fills the room in darkness. The crowd goes quiet as tension rises. Everyone is excited for sure, but none of them reach the level of thrill you feel when the spotlight illuminates the stage and a beautifully dressed woman appears behind the curtain.

Resounding cheers, applause, the occasional toast around you, inside you, but all you can do is watch in awe. Hyewon looks angelic, on one hand illegally beautiful, on the other illegally hot. Something about her is distant yet warm, unreachable yet magnetic, strangulating for the heart yet easy for the lunges—she is oxygen, or even better—the breathable air of heaven.

Hyewon.

Confidence in her stance which silences the crowd again, confidence in her hands which raise the mic to her glossy lips, most importantly, confidence in her voice as she starts the song with a powerful low note that almost throws you off the stool. 

It shouldn’t be such a shock. Hyewon’s voice is mesmerizing, you should have noticed it when she spoke to you or at least when she moaned, but only now you see the full beauty of it. It’s befitting of her, and you will enjoy every second of it. She carries this song gracefully, giving it a special touch that will keep the listeners yearning for a studio version, which would be an efficient side hustle for her.

Wait, what if Hyewon becomes a musician, with songs on the radio and the first glimmers of fame? What if she is already quite popular, an underground artist on the rise, from covering songs to writing her own? What if there is a whole story happening in her life that you missed entirely, just because you stuck to your whore-wife and mind-numbing job? This fear of having missed out on something this big and beautiful, maybe even life itself, shakes your heart with a strong aching, until—

Another voice. The first verse, the pre-chorus, the build-up, it all leads to another voice coming in with unbridled power and passion. It cannot be contained in the way it booms through the speakers and puts goosebumps on every single person in this room. You’re included in this list, but when you recognize the voice and see the woman step out on stage, those goosebumps turn to a full-on rush of nostalgic emotions. 

Back then, her singing was the catalyst for an unforgettable night. Unexpectedly wild, a lot of fun, but the stinging arrow of envy made things bitter-sweet for you. Watching the two of them be so close, intimate and loving had you yearning for more than just enraged sex. You wanted this too, and there was a time where Eunbi provided it. But the veil has been lifted. There is no love, just despair.

Yuri.

It’s certainly a touching thing, seeing that Hyewon and Yuri are still close friends, connected through the language of music. Apparently they were always here, right in this inconspicuous bar, pulling the stress out of people with nothing but their voices, which combine at the end of the second verse and rush ahead into the chorus. It’s an invasion of your ears, low and high, soft and powerful, caring and overwhelming. 

This performance is greatness, the best of what humanity has to offer—and you feel like the embodiment of an embittered, wasted life.

#

Yuri hits the final note with such perfection that the first few people have already jumped up from their seats and cheered without holding back. Thunderous applause is an understatement to how hard everyone claps their hands or stomps the ground. They’re shaking the entire bar, which has the bartender holding onto some of the bottles with a worried smile. You on the other hand are glued to your seat in deep regret. Not enough to make you cry, but enough to keep you from giving the two angels what they deserve. 

Take a look at your wine. It has been untouched in your glass for a while now and it’d be a waste to throw it away just because you’re facing the cold, harsh truth again. What even is true at this point? Not the stuff you promise your customers and certainly not your relationship. Fuck it, take a large sip.

“They are awesome,” the bartender gasps. “They should finally do this professionally, this stage is too small for them.”

“Yeah,” you answer with a weak smile. “Imagine an entire stadium full of people being this ecstatic. The world would hear it.”

“Well, I tried my best convincing them,” he says and looks right next to you with a sly grin. “Maybe you have more success than I did.”

Time freezes when you feel the familiar busty body around your own. You did not see Hyewon launching herself at you, don't realize what's happening until she starts talking.

"Oh my God, it has been so long! Wait, is it really you?"

"Hyewon, I, uhm, yeah. I'm me."

"It's so crazy to see you again! How are you, how is life?"

"Well, it's—"

Hyewon squeezes your body tighter. She pouts when you look down at her until you finally get it. Return the embrace and Hyewon squeals in happiness.

"You don't have to say anything," she coos softly. "I'm just happy to see you again."

"Likewise," you respond with a sigh.

You could stand around like this for eternity. Hyewon's deep breaths and her steadily decreasing heart rate start to heal you from within. The pain and suffering caused by Eunbi's constant cheating, it doesn't matter right now. You deserve a break from the mess that is your life—you feel like you can celebrate your promotion for real now.

"Hyewon, I—no, you. You were wonderful on stage. Your singing, it blew me away."

As you gush about her performance, Hyewon blushes and disconnects the hug. You notice that she has this heavenly aura around her, like she is spraying sparks of love and happiness that try to ignite everyone around her. No wonder that she had this excellent stage presence during her duet.

"Thank you so much—

"Oh, babe~ I'm here~"

You jump at Hyewon's sudden call, which is not directed at you of course. Before your eyes can search for the person Hyewon just called babe, they have already arrived. Delicate fingers entwined with Hyewon's, they both go for a quick peck on the lips.

"Yu-Yuri?" 

Your shriek makes the duo—the couple?—look at you with wide eyes, glossy and full of love for life—for each other? There is still too much to process for your brain, it can't handle another input. 

"Hey, is everything alright?" Yuri asks with concern in her voice and a caring hand on your elbow.

"Ye-yeah, ju-just not up to date at all. Are you two like… a thing?"

Hyewon has this bright smile on her face. She wraps an arm around Yuri's hip and the younger girl leans her head on her collarbone. Yuri raises a hand up to your face. There is a simple silver ring on it, and you see her eyes scintillate when she shows you it.

"We married two months ago," Hyewon giggles. "So much has happened since we met last time. I can’t really sum it up."

"Don't feel forced to explain yourself," you respond with an awkward laugh. "We had a short stint a while back, I only saw you falling for each other—

beyond that, our lives have happened far apart. But not going to lie, I'd love to hear your story if you're down for it."

Hyewon and Yuri share a glance and then start to laugh for seemingly no reason. It turns into a full fit that suddenly has you in a tight, three way hug. 

"We'd love to," Yuri says when she catches her breath again. "After all, you somewhat got us together. I told Hye that we should try to invite you to the marriage."

"Nah, it's good. How about I pay for the first round of drinks because of your amazing performance and then for the second round 'cuz I got a big promotion today."

"What if I want a third round though?" Hyewon asks jokingly.

"Babe, you can never handle three rounds," Yuri responds with sass and pulls the two of you to a nearby table.

"Looks like you just qualified yourself to pay for the third round then, Yuri."

#

"Like I said," Yuri babbles, her pitch high as the love story reaches its conclusion. "Hye was so scared to tell her father, but I had already bought the rings and planned the dresses, the cake—her mom was literally involved in everything—so on a Saturday night I poured her a third tequila shot—look how done she is after only two!"

Yuri points at her wife, whose head rests on her shoulder with heavy eyes and a rosy hue on her cheeks. Hyewon is in a drunk-dazed heaven, smiling stupidly, while trying to disagree with sounds that almost sound like words.

"Anyways, she was loose and so I dragged her over, we told him and—it was a stressful minute, I tell you that—after a minute he hugged us wordlessly. We kinda had no idea what it meant but during the wedding he looked happy, at peace basically."

"Okay, wow that is—"

Even your tenth reaction to Hyewon and Yuri's story, from threesome over dating to coming out to marriage, is cut short, this time by Hyewon groaning out a functioning sentence from her lip stick and alcohol covered lips.

"Babe, you, you forgot the part where, when you had to quit your job then."

"Oh, I'd love to hear about that too!" you quickly add, reminiscing about their amazing vocal performance. "Why did you decide to only sing for a living?"

Yuri puts on a sad smile as she strokes Hyewon's hair. Her gaze rests upon her empty glass, her orbs turn glassy for a moment then she shakes her head as if to shrug off what's bothering her.

"That's just about, you know, my former job. When I quit because we wanted to focus on music, some were angry because they thought I abandoned the team for childish dreams while others were… not so supportive of us. Ah, just forget it, it's fine."

"Sorry you had to go through it and sorry for bringing it up," you quickly apologize.

"Jeez, I said it's fine, don—"

"Let me make it up to you with a third round and the promise to meet the two of you here again."

Raise your hand to call the waiter while Yuri searches for something in Hyewon's pocket, but the older keeps nuzzling closer and closer as she dozes off. When the drinks arrive, Yuri slips you a phone.

"Put in your numbern" she whispers. "I bet she'll want to hear more from you too."

"Thank you. I assume you don't want to hear from me then?" you chuckle.

"That's right!" Yuri shouts and lifts her glass on high, so the entire bar can hear her. "I'm only here for the drinks. Cheers!"

#

Even the greatest party needs to come to an end at some point. 3am is when you pay for the drinks and call a cab. You barely find your way up the drive way into your house, which is not that bad, because now you don’t need to go sleep in the same bed as Eunbi and instead have the couch for you alone. It has never been so cozy.

Speaking of Eunbi, her acting is almost great. She apparently was so worried about you last night, and all the other nights the last couple of months. Now she found you on the couch, an obvious hangover by the way you scrunch your forehead. She puts her hand on your shoulder, rubbing it in circles, playing the worried wife like it’s in her script. 

“No, this looks wrong, I swear,” you try to laugh it off but Eunbi is just getting closer. God, you can smell all the other people on her. It’s like she showered in a dozen different men’s perfume and deodorant just to taunt you. Ignore the mocking, you’re above this. 

“Then what is it supposed to look like, babe?” Eunbi asks, her eyes wide and shimmering. “I’m willing to believe you, but you have to tell me why you got so wasted.”

“Well, I…” 

It’s best to mix the lie with some truth to the point where you might believe it yourself.

“I, surprisingly, got a great promotion, and we went out partying for a long ti—”

“Oh my God, babe, that’s awesome!”

Out of nowhere, Eunbi casts aside all her concern and launches herself atop of you. You immediately tense up. Feeling the incredible curves of her body has never felt so wrong, so traumatic. Groan and put a palm to your temple to signal her your distress, but she continues to bounce on your lap. 

“All your heart work paid off, I’m so proud!” she shouts gleefully, her arms tight around your throat in what looks like a loving embrace but feels a lot more like someone strangling you. “I almost thought you were out there getting addicted to whiskey every night.”

And you are addicted to men, Eunbi.

Addicted to sex, to being unloyal, to being creamed by other men.

You are the addict, you heartbreaking bitch.

But the words don’t come out. They run circles in your head while Eunbi’s clothed entrance rubs circles over your not-growing, not-aroused dick. You’re not going to surrender to her fuckable body, instead gently pushing her sides and groaning unduly. 

“Yeah, no, this was a one time thing. I should sober up, my head fucking hurts.”

“Should I get you some water and painkillers?” Eunbi asks and gets off of your lap to jog to the kitchen.

“Yes, please—”

—and then get out of my life.

#

The following months brought some drastic changes. Not only is your work harder, it’s also not optional anymore. You started to put up better numbers because of your overtime work, which was due to Eunbi. Now, you can’t escape it anymore. Working from 6am to 10pm is normal, hell, on some days you wish you could sleep three hours. 

But everytime you look at your new bank account—can’t let Eunbi have all the access—it all seems worth it. The pay is ungodly, you have way too much money. Even after taxes and buying two new cars to not look ‘broke’ next to all the other board members, you still have no clue what to do with all of it. Two or three more years, and you could retire wealthy beyond belief. Begs the question why these people usually don’t and continue working.

Another change to your life comes through Hyewon and Yuri. By themselves, they installed a new social life in your life. At least two times per month, the three of you meet up in a bar. You get to know new people, entirely different from you, but also basically the same. Everyone is tired from work, so it’s time to drink and party. You almost forgot how good it feels to have a variety of friends—from those that are perfect for loose parties to those that deeply care about you. 

Hyewon is the best of those friends. Nothing about your brief yet intense past seems to stick on her. She is chill around you, goofy and not at all awkward. Yuri is quite similar, though a bit more extravagant and flamboyant, which makes them the absolute gay-power couple. They just click, it’s perfect, young love. 

“Reminds me of myself.” Your lips betray you.

“What?” Hyewon shouts back, over the obnoxiously loud bass of the rock band on stage.

“Ah, nothing. Just a little envious~” you respond with fake annoyance and raise your glass for a toast. Hyewon hesitates, very out of character.

“Nah, I’m not toasting your glass before you tell me what you mean,” Hyewon says and stares into your soul with her drunk, teary eyes. Maybe she is not that drunk? Maybe you can finally open up about it?

“Really, it’s nothing.”

“Nuh-uh, tell me outside.”

And with that, Hyewon walks out the front door, you in tow as your tie becomes completely undone and your shirt is a mess. Outside you do not find privacy, just a lot of strangers talking, laughing, smoking. This time you pull Hyewon further down the street next to your parked Porsche, where it’s less likely for someone to hear you.

“Now you gotta… tell me,” Hyewon babbles.

“You are drunk, you’re not gonna remember it anyways.”

“Nuh-uh,” she says again, hitting your chest with her long, painted nails. “You need to spill it now, I’ll remember. Like I remember you only asking about me and Yuri and never talking about yourself.”

She’s spot on. You never wanted to talk about it. Eunbi’s name is pain, you don’t need to make the newfound pleasure and joy in your life go away because of her. This cheating whore—she should just go away at this point.

“You remember why we met?” you carefully ask Hyewon, testing if she is capable of understanding even though she is under heavy influence.

“Yes, your girl cheated on you.”

“Guess what: I married that girl.”

“Oh,” Hyewon says and after some delay smiles brightly. “So you talked it out and things got better? That’s why you didn’t come back, right?”

“Let’s just say that,” you gulp and your hands form fists. “Some people don’t change.”

“Fuck,” Hyewon’s pointy heels hit the sidewalk hard. “I’m sorry about that. Was it a bad divorce?”

“Huh? She still lives with you? In the same house? You share the same bed?”

“I—I did not divorce her.”

“I-I did not say that!”

“But it’s true!” Hyewon steps closer and grabs your collar. “I can see it in your eyes, you can’t let go. You hate her, but you can’t throw her away, although she deserves it.”

You want to grab Hyewon’s wrist, push her to the side and run away shouting words of denial that you are stronger than this, that she is wrong, that she doesn’t get it. However, Hyewon doesn’t deserve it—even worse, she is absolutely right.

“Yes,” you whisper.

“Yes,” she whispers and lets go. The two of you lean onto the Porsche in silence, watching customers of the bar pass by without worries, without hate, without defeat. The liquor has done wonders, turning a negative week positive. The same can’t be said about you. You feel exposed, utterly defeated by Hyewon’s words. 

“Fuck you,” you groan, face hidden in hands. “Fuck you for being right, Hyewon.”

“Sorry, but you had to hear it,” she responds and pats your back. “You need to tear her out of your life, like a terribly written chapter in a book or like awful lyrics that you wrote while high on midnight wine and sex.

“You get me?”

“I think.”

“Good.”

The world might not be good at this moment, yet Hyewon’s reassurance, her slow pats on your shoulder, her strong posture in her stunning red dress and the loving, tipsy smile on her beaming face are enough to show you the light of a better world.

“What about you?” you suddenly ask, wiping away tears you did not weep. “Something you’re hiding or keeping down?”

Hyewon looks away, her smile filling with a hint of agony, though nothing of her stunning beauty fades.

“You got me there. It’s something that’s been bugging me for maybe half a year. I know I shouldn’t but—I can’t get away from the thought, you know?”

“I would know if you would tell me,” you say playfully. Now it’s your turn to massage her shoulder, give reassurance, though you don’t know if you have any.

“It’s just that I—

“I want to have a child—my child. I love Yuri more than anything, I will never regret choosing her and only her, but this longing… it does not go away.”

“And adopting is not an option? S-sorry if that was insensitive…”

“No, it’s fine. I just want to be pregnant and raise my child together with her. You know what, forget that. It has to remain a dream.”

Suddenly, a friend of both you and Hyewon sprints out of the bar and looks around in dramatic panic until he finds the two of you. He takes leaps towards you, almost lands face first on the concrete before catching his small frame and coming to a halt.

“Hyewon,” he gasps out in between huffs and puffs. “Yuri is—she is so full, completely—you know?”

“That girl,” Hyewon sighs.

#

You return home on the same night. Your chat with Hyewon sucked out all the power the liquor usually has over you. It means that you are able to think about her words and take her seriously, but you’ll also have to live with Eunbi laying next to you, smelling like foreign sweat and cum again. You could choose the couch, but you haven’t gotten around to having it replaced with a couch where it’s better to sleep on. 

The moment you open the main door, you hear screams coming from the bedroom. Deja Vu, not the subtle kind, more like a fucking train running you over. You still remember the one time she did it almost two years ago where you caught her. This is basically the same. The same sounds, the same gut wrenching punch to your gut, hell, even the groans by the guy sound the same—

Could it be?

Eunbi, in her brand new bikini, rides the same fucking guy from back then while he has his disgusting, greedy hands all over her skin, spanking it and making her scream even louder. 

Like a silent assassin, you sneak towards the slightly ajar bedroom door. Dimmed lights illuminate the room which is filled by the smell of sex and the repetitive sounds of skin on skin. You take out your phone and use it as a mirror to catch a glimpse of what’s happening.

“You like that, you whore?” he growls at her, smiling stupidly dazed.

“Yes, oh God! Hit my tits!”

“I swear to God, your husband must be such a faggot for not immediately fucking you in that outfit. You look like a fucking breeding cow!”

“Yes, I’m cumming!”

“He can’t make you cum!”

The guy squeezes, then twists Eunbi’s breasts as she trembles, screams and squirts to an absolutely ridiculous level, one that even pornography can ot reach. She lets herself fall forward and the guy finishes inside her after a couple of thrusts. His rancid cum leaks out from every corner of Eunbi’s loose pussy. 

You almost throw up. You hurry towards the front door and hide in the back of your car. There is rage, embarrassment, pain—you can’t confront her, hell, you can’t even confront him when he leaves the house like a king, the sun slowly rising in the background. 

Your mind is empty, empty to the point it’s completely clear. You wait for Eunbi to fall asleep, then collect all the camera’s you have installed and throw them in a public trash bin. Afterwards, you clean up the house, dusting off as quietly as possible while also collecting dirty clothes to wash them (there is fucking leftover cum on some of her clothes and towels).

Lastly, you lay down next to her for a second and check if she has cleaned herself properly. 

This fucking whore, I—

“Honey, sorry for not making it last night,” you shout, pretending to come home at 5am. Eunbi shrieks and shoots up, still dressed in the brown bikini, still cum oozing from her cunt. She tries to hide herself underneath a blanket.

“Ba-babe, tha-that’s totally fine,” she responds nervously, looking very puzzled because of your tired yet bright smile.

“I saw you cleaned the house, it looks wonderful!” you compliment her.

“I, uhm.”

“Hey, even the washing machine is running—and did you bring out the trash already?”

“Well, I—”

“God, you look so hot in that bikini,” you lean down to her and cup her bountiful breasts. “I could devour you right now. Did you really wear it just for me?”

“I—

Eunbi hesitates, turns away for a second to look out of the window. She is thinking about it, clearly. This is where her final redemption can start, the way to salvation is to reveal all of her sin, the only way she can come back is to…

“I’m glad you noticed, babe,” she says with the fakest of smiles. “And yes, I would only wear this for you. B-but I’m not feeling it right now, you understand?”

You nod.

“I love you, Eunbi.”

You lying devil.

#

How did you end up here?

“Are you sure about this, Yuri?”

“Yes, do you really want this, babe?”

Yuri folds her arms and raises both her eyebrows.

“How many times do I have to tell you? Yes, I want this!”

With all doubts seemingly out of the way, the three of you make your way to the bedroom. Hyewon’s and Yuri’s apartment is small, but very cozy, the perfect place to live a relaxed, problem free life. 

But they decided to get you involved. You’re a problem here. Sure, you might have helped at starting their relationship in the first place, but now you’re here for chaos. 

Hyewon sinks onto the sheets first, Yuri’s fingers entangled with hers. Your fingers find the hem of Hyewon’s short dress. The angelic garment feels incredible, pure even in your hand and so you only hike it up with care, deeply in awe of what you’re about to see.

Meanwhile, Hyewon is a lot less pedantic and awestruck. She yanks Yuri closer, shortly fiddles with the button of her jeans and then quickly starts to undress her wife. The denim is quickly gone and before Hyewon can attack the white lace panties, Yuri shoves her lover's face into them. 

“Use your precious tongue, honey~”

Oops, you almost started to stare for too long. Better continue your hike up Hyewon’s beautiful, bountiful legs to her holy sanctuary, covered by the same lace she so greedily licks and nibbles on. Your digits hook into the white fabric and slowly pull it down, making Hyewon melt further into Yuri’s pussy. 

“You’re getting so excited, huh~?” Yuri teases and pats Hyewon’s head. The older girl nods while you start to fold her dress to finally see her wet, shaven cunt. You can smell the excitement, the arousal, the anticipation of what is about to happen to her. Now you consider yourself lucky to not have slept with anyone, which potentially avoided any and all STDs. 

It lets you create trouble.

#

How did you end up here?

It’s two days after Hyewon officially asked you to impregnate her. Tomorrow she will ask her wife in what you can only imagine will be the most stressful talk in her entire life. Today however, is not tomorrow. Today is the day you got your STD test back. Hyewon wanted you to take it for if things go her way and Yuri actually agrees to this chaotic proposal.

To no surprise, the results are negative. After all, you haven’t touched Eunbi in forever and by the way she lets seemingly everyone cum inside her, you wouldn’t be surprised if she caught anything. In the end, that was not enough however. You needed to make sure.

A bottle of champagne, neatly placed on the living room table. You put some decorations around it. Eunbi will appear here any minute, you told her you have a surprise waiting, something that will make her speechless, breathless even. 

“Hey, honey,” Eunbi announces her return, grocery bags in hands. “What is it you wanted to tell me?”

“Eunbi, I—the reason why I even took a day off is—nah, come on over! Let’s raise a glass first, shall we!”

The glasses are already filled, well prepared. Eunbi seems utterly perplexed. “Champagne in the middle of the day? Honey, what are you planning~?”

Trouble, bitch.

#

“Oh, yes, eat me, Hye, eat me.”

Yuri has started to tear off her t-shirt, the top underneath as well, to sit on Hyewon’s face completely naked. You on the other hand have only fished out your hard cock, which the incredible display of passion and erotic has surely made harder than ever. The straps of Hyewon’s dress have also started to fall down her shoulders. Finally, the chaos is coming together.

“The two of you are so hot,” you compliment and lean towards them. 

“I know,” Yuri responds in between moans and grinds her soaking pussy more and more on Hyewon’s mouth. “Your mouth is so pretty, so go-good.”

“Hyewon, are you ready?” you ask the woman below you, her nipples peeking out from her dress, her legs spread wide and invitingly and her pussy twitching when you rub up and down her labia. 

Hyewon finds her way out from in between Yuri’s thighs and rests her head back against her lover’s tight stomach. Deep breaths and eyes of absolute need signal you that yes, she is more than ready. The same goes for Yuri, who is on the one hand very fixated on rubbing and drooling all over Hyewon’s collarbone, while her eyes are focused on your cock.

“Watch him closely,” Yuri whispers. “He is going to give you our child.”

With that, you push inside of Hyewon’s awaiting pussy.

#

“What are we celebrating? Did you get another promotion?”

Eunbi looks genuinely curious. Strange, she hasn’t asked about your work at any previous point in time, unless it was about when you would be home. Keep the sarcasm to yourself, you don't want to spoil the actual surprise.

"Oh, sweety," you laugh with full bass. "No more promotions needed, we are set for life. Which is why I bought a new house!"

"No, you didn't!" Eunbi shouts and almost drops the glass.

"Careful, careful, don't spill it."

"Oh my God, you are crazy. Where is this house? Still in Korea or…"

You raise your glass towards her and smirk.

"I'll only tell you if you would do me the honor."

Eunbi reciprocates the smirk.

"Of course, darling."

The two of you set the glasses to your lips. Your eyes are wide open, your heart beats in an uncontrollable flurry as you watch Eunbi down the champagne quickly, almost in one go. You're quick to follow, while a new wind of fresh air fills your nostrils.

This should not feel this good.

#

"Ah!"

Hyewon screeches when you pierce her tight pussy open. She clings onto her wife's thighs, gripping them tightly while blurting her initial, high-pitched moans straight into the pussy above her.

"You take it so well, baby," Yuri groans and rubs Hyewon's breasts with the sweaty palms of her hands. "Squeeze him dry."

Place both hands on Hyewon’s hips and begin to slowly pump into the woman, your cock stretching her walls, filling her whole. When Yuri suddenly starts to play with the small, hidden clit above the entrance, Hyewon becomes noticebly wetter, to the point where you hear the wet sounds of her arousal. It spreads around her crotch, your crotch, her legs, your legs, the bed’s legs, until everything is a glorious mess.

“Oh, I can feel him inside you, baby,” Yuri husks as her hand roams Hyewon’s abdomen. She has gotten off her lover's face and is now gazing at it, her eyes lustful, demanding for Hyewon to be bred. “Soon, I’ll feel something else knock from inside.”

“Yu-Yuri, I’m getting close!” Hyewon screeches, her fingers wrapping around your wrists as you grip her pale body tighter and tighter as she gets tighter and tighter. “I’m about to—”

“Don’t hold back,” Yuri demands and her hand slips down to Hyewon’s clit again and rubs furiously. “I want to see you cum, cum as you finally receive this gift.”

Well, there goes the last shadow of a doubt that Yuri might have something against this crazy idea. Turns out she is even more insane than you or Hyewon. She gets off on you pounding, dominating her wife and she does the same, finally choking Hyewon’s throat gently while bringing her to a loud, splashing orgasm. From the corner of her eye, you see her urging you to not cum yet. 

If she just knew how hard this is with Hyewon wringing all over your lubricated, diamond-like cock. Her pussy sucks you in, takes your breath away, yet you are able to make Yuri’s wish come true. Just close your eyes and imagine something normal is happening, a walk in the park, a nice summer breeze, the beautiful green of the leaves—

“You are so hot, baby, eat me~”

Yuri climbs on top of Hyewon’s face again, her subtle ass turned towards you as she slams her pussy on Hyewon’s panting mouth and rubs herself all over the most flushed, most perfect features to ever graze the earth. Hyewon is barely able to stick out her tongue to tickle Yuri’s clit and it’s so endearing, you just have to make it more difficult for her.

Fold Hyewon. It's as easy as folding a piece of paper. Hyewon’s feet dangle in the air, her toes curl frantically, trying to reach the ceiling to find grip, but she is helpless. At first she lost control over her body due to the mind-blowing orgasm, now it’s because Yuri and you use her as you please. Hyewon is a tool for pleasure and she couldn’t feel more pleasure.

“Your tongue, baby, put it in—ah!” Yuri’s climax was predictable. Her small frame trembles throughout, her adorable butt is right in front of you. You take a risk and fold Hyewon further, your lips now right on Yuri’s cheek. Your lick right across it. “N-not you! B-but don’t stop now!”

So you continue. Your tongue travels all over Yuri’s cheeks, an adventure almost as good as the adventure your cock takes inside Hyewon, exploring every single place inside her scorching cunt. You eventually end up in Yuri’s butt, twirling your tongue, getting her addictive taste on your tastebuds. Sadly, you’re unable to go all out on Hyewon in the meantime, so she scrapes your shoulders, probably feeling neglected. When you look down however, she opens her mouth wide and begs in the most adorable, lewd voice:

“Share?”

You drool right into the awaiting Hyewon, transferring the taste of her wife’s asshole, but it’s not enough, you need to dive into her lips and force her tongue around in her mouth. There is no other option, you need to melt into Hyewon to give her the perfect child, a child conceived under the most ridiculous, feverish and unexplainable circumstances possible.

Yuri’s nails dig in your neck.

“Enough fun. Give her your fucking cum!”

Open your eyes a final time to find Hyewon, fucked silly, sweat, tears, girl cum all over her face and hair, eyes barely open, mouth barely closed—why is she more perfect, the messier she gets? You thrust deeply a couple of times and with a final sprint, you finish the race, with Hyewon bred and Yuri rubbing her clit in a daze. 

“Don’t pull out yet,” she babbles. “I need to—fuck—I need to get the plug first.”

#

“It needs to look like champagne, untraceable, no weird smells or anything.

“Yes, I know that that is fucking elaborate and costly, I don’t care.

“Do you want to be on the board or not? I thought so.

“We have a deal then.

“Hm? No, her death does not need to be quick.”

Infact, I want it to be as long and painful as possible.

# 20 years later #

You open the window and watch the wind splash water against the shore of Malta. This view alone is worth thirty million euros apparently—you’re inclined to agree. The blue of the ocean meets the white stones, it’s a perfect match. No matter how rough the wind comes and goes, no matter how high the sea levels may rise, these two will never betray each other.

A knock on your front door. The way she knocks is unmistakable. Ever since moving to this long forgotten, barely reachable island, you have never felt the need to hurry about anything. It’s all calm and quiet out here—you’d need to go back to Korea for your life to be busy again. But if you’d go back again, your need to see her would be too big.

You couldn’t do that to her mothers.

“Hello, dear Godfather,” the beautiful girl says with a smile and playfully bows her head.

“Hello, dear Godchild,” you return the smile and the bow. “Didn’t your mother teach you how to properly bow?”

“Which one?” she asks, not able to contain her laughter. “The one that sings or the one that sings?”

“It’s nice to see you again, Minju.”

I missed you, my daughter.

(A/N: I hope you all had a happy june/Pride month!)

[sunnystaytiny2018]

——————————————

ATEEZ Fanfiction

——————————————

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fandom: ATEEZ

Pairing: ATEEZ x Fem Reader

Genre: Smuttttt -maybe a few more- tttt

POV: First Person

Additional Tags: Daddy Kink, Overstimulation, Rough, Mean punishments, multiple rounds, squirting, orgasm denial, choking, spanking, biting, jealous sex, established relationship, 0T8 x Reader, g x b, blindfold, blow jobs, multiple partners at once, cum licking, creampies, cum swallowing

Requested by @yuyuyuyumesblog

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I have been really misbehaving lately. My boyfriends had been so busy that they didn't seem to have time for me anymore. So I started acting out to get their attention. Not rejecting someone when they are clearly flirting with me and dancing around with other guys. I still hadn't gotten a reaction out of any of them, considering they weren't there. Or so I thought. So why the hell were my boyfriends standing there in our living room like it was an intervention?

“Um, I'm home.”

“Why were you out so late?” Hongjoong questioned me.

“I went clubbing.”

“Without us?” Wooyoung demanded and I frowned, feeling anger bubble in my chest.

“Every time I ask you're too busy! Every last one of you!” I yelled, my eyes watering from frustration.

“Oh! So you just go and grind on some other guy?!” Seonghwa demanded and I was taken aback, Seonghwa rarely ever yelled.

“How did-”

“You think we didn't have an eye on you at all times?” San asked, as if that was the most outlandish thing to think. Hongjoong set his laptop on the computer and showed me a video of me dancing near a guy. I never actually grinded up on anyone, I didn't want anyone but one of my boyfriends. But I let them close enough to cause jealousy.

“Get your ass to the room and strip. I better find you waiting in position for your punishment, baby girl.” My heart raced. I quickly skimmed over everyone to find I would in fact be punished by every single one of them. Fear and excitement swirled in my chest. “NOW.” I jumped and quickly headed to his room.

“Yes, Daddy.” I whimpered. I tripped half way down the hall but I quickly got up and hurried into his room, not wanting the punishment to be worse than they already planned because I wasn't ready by the time they got here. I stripped all my clothes off and scrambled on the bed into position. I sat on my knees with my palms upwards on my thighs. My head bowed down, not daring to look up especially as my boyfriends came into the room.

“Oh good, she listened. I'm sure she already knows her punishment won't be easy, right Baby?” Jongho asked as he titled my chin up. I remained silent knowing I wasn't supposed to reply, it was merely a rhetorical question.

“Well, tell you what. How about…” Yunho whispered as he slowly pulled a silk fabric over my eyes. “If you can guess who is pleasuring you, we can switch to the next person. He won't get to cum. But if you make a wrong guess or don't guess within 15 seconds… you don't to get to cum and he does.” The idea made my heart race and my pussy ached. This might be the harshest punishment yet. They had never denied me orgasms for so long.

“Color?” Hongjoong's voice broke through the darkness of my vision.

“Green.” I replied as hands immediately guided me to lay down and spread my legs.

“First person.” Hongjoong said as the bed dipped and someone moved between my legs and rubbed his hands on my legs. My legs turned from the intimate touch. I sucked in a breath as I tried to focus. His hands weren't on the bigger side of the members. So Yunho and Mingi were out of play. When I felt their tongue delve into my pussy I let out a whimper. Okay, not Hongjoong or Wooyoung. They prefer eating me out after destroying me. I breathed in their scent.

“Yeo-Yeosang?” I stuttered out as my back arched into his tongue.

“Wow, very good, baby.” Hongjoong praised and Yeosang increased the speed of his tongue and pushed a finger into my wet pussy. I let out a desperate cry due to the sudden contact. I hadn't had sexual contact or action for a while.

“Oh Yeosang!” I moaned at his soft touches accompanied with the feverish licks of his tongue. My hands tangled in his brown locks as I felt my body jolt and tense. “I'm close, baby.” I moaned as he added a second finger increasing the pleasure. My back arched as my body released a gentle and warm orgasm. Yeosang had to pull himself away and someone new replaced him.

I felt his hands drag on my thighs and I bit my lip. I think I may already know who it is. I'm not saying all of them don't like my thighs but there is one specific one who loves them. He always touches and marks them up. Maybe I knew my boys better than I thought. I really started out thinking I would fail over and over. I felt his lips on my thighs for only a second before spreading my legs and immediately pushed into me.

I let out a cry at the stretching but I tried to focus on the feeling of his dick. I want to cum again, so bad. But this definitely wasn't who I thought it was, since he would have spent much longer than that on my thighs. I could only think of one of the guys who didn't do as much foreplay, not that I mind. Sometimes I just want a good fuck without the extra steps to work up to it. But then again I love the foreplay too. The nicest thing about having 8 boyfriends is each one of them can satisfy certain needs that the others may not be able to.

I let out a moan as he snapped his hips, pushing deeper inside of me. His rhythm was familiar, well of course it was. His rhythm is strong and almost harsh. Yep, I knew who it was.

“Who is it, baby?” Hongjoong asked as I felt fingers slip to my clit as his hips began to snap faster. Shit wait, it wasn't Hongjoong?

“I-I don't know! I thought it was you, I- W-Wooyoung?” I asked as he sucked in a breath.

“Incorrect, Honey. You don't get to cum.” Hongjoong informed me and I whined out. I already had an orgasm building since the one between my legs started rubbing my clit and fucking my pussy like it's the best thing he's ever felt. He finally let his voice out after I got it wrong.

“Fuck~ You feel so good.” Jongho growled in my ear and it sent shivers of pleasure through my body. His voice and groans are too sexy. My legs tensed as I tried to hold it back

“Color, baby?

“Green.” I moaned out, the shake in my breath making it clear I was teetering on the edge.

“Hold it, baby.” Jongho groaned as his pace increased and he withdrew his hand from my clit.

“I-I can't. I can't hold it-” I whimpered out as my abdomen tensed painfully.

“Yes, you can, baby. And you better not cum.” Seonghwa instructed. I could hear the sound of some of the guys jerking themselves off while watching. Soft groans coming from different parts of the room.

“You look so sexy getting pounded into, baby.” Wooyoung praised from somewhere in the room. “Squirming and trying not to cum.” Jongho thrusted deeper before spilling himself inside of me. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I felt slight relief as he cummed inside of me. No longer having any stimulation that made my body want to orgasm. Jongho kneeled between my legs and looked down at me.

“I'll be back, baby.” Jongho purred and gave me a kiss before leaving the spot. It took a few seconds before the next person caused the bed to dip again. My legs were still trembling slightly from the previous stimulation but holding back the orgasm.

I felt the brush of jeans against my pussy and I smiled softly. This one I knew for sure. There was only one member who liked to have sex with his jeans still on. His hands squeezed and kneaded my sides making it even more clear that it was who I thought it was. His hands moved up to my breasts and squeezed them. A moan slipped out of my mouth at the dorm squeeze. His lips were on them, soft fluttering kisses around the nipples. Then his hot tongue was on my tits drawing out the loudest moan since this had started. I rubbed my thighs together as my pussy clenched. I moved my hand along his arms and to his hair.

“Mingi, please.” I moaned and I felt the smirk spread on his face.

“Okay, baby. As you wish.” He said as he began to rub my clit as he sucked a nipple into his mouth. My back arched at the feeling of his silver rings against my burning pussy. He began to suck harder on my nipples and I couldn't last any longer from the sensitivity.

“Mingi! I'm close.” I moaned before orgasming on his fingers. He pulls them out and he makes a loud slurping sound, telling me he just sucked his fingers clean of my juices. I shivered, feeling turned on all over again. God, Mingi was nasty and I fucking loved it.

“Next one, Sweetheart.” Seonghwa purred to me. I felt cum splatter on my stomach and a low groan from Yunho. I decided to do something sexy and I slowly trailed my hand from my breast to my stomach until I felt my fingers touch the now warm cum. I heard his breath hitch as someone else got on the bed. I scooped some on my finger and sucked my lips.

“Oh fuck, I can't. She's too sexy. I'm done playing this game. I need to fuck her.” Wooyoung growled from between my legs. He ripped the tie off of my face to see his feral look. He grabbed me by my thighs and yanked me down. “Fuck, you so pretty, baby. I might just cum in you the second I put it in.” He said before pushing into me. I let out a loud and desperate moan. Thank God, someone broke. I need them so fucking bad it hurts. I want to feel their cum leaking out of my pussy like their good little cum slut.

“Please! Fuck yes please, Woo.” I moaned as he began to fuck me. The other members joined us on the bed and hands were on me. One landed to hold my cheeks.

“Open wide, baby.” Hongjoong ordered and I opened my mouth obediently. Hongjoong smirked and pushed into my mouth, hitting the back of my throat. I choked a little before adjusting to his size as my body continued to bounce up from Wooyoung's thrusts. Moans escaped around Hongjoong's dick as I sucked on him like it was the tasty lollipop ever. I missed this. I missed them.

Mingi began to suck on one tit and Yunho joined in my other. The pleasure was too overwhelming as I orgasmed once more. Hongjoong began to face fuck me and someone nudged my hand with their dick. I didn't hesitate to take whoever it was. It didn't matter who it was. I wanted to pleasure them all equally. I used the precum from his dick and smeared it around and started to pump my hand as I squeezed my eyes shut, Hongjoong busting in my mouth. I swallowed it quickly and Hongjoong slowly pulled out to be replaced by Seonghwa. He slowly pushed into my mouth and allowed me to go at my own pace, throwing his head back in pleasure.

I orgasmed once more, encouraging Wooyoung to cum inside me. He was pushed aside and quickly replaced by San who began to lap my pussy up. The thighs were trembling and someone else began to kiss, suck, and bite them. I moaned around Seonghwa's dick as the one I was jerking off cummed on my face.

“Cumming~” Jongho warned before doing so. I squinted my eyes closed so I didn't get any in my eyes. By the end of the night, my body was worn and marked. My boyfriends quickly washed and cleaned my body and changed the sheets before allowing me to lay in the bed again.

“Thank you, Love. You did so good. We really needed you.” San said as he placed a soft kiss on my forehead. I nodded as I snuggled into his arms.

“I love you guys.”

“We love you too.” Seonghwa said softly, giving me a soft kiss as well.

“You can sleep, sweetheart.” Hongjoong encouraged me as he tucked the blanket around my body. I nodded, already nodding off.

[theunholybastard]

Kinktober: October 30th - Blood (Papa Emeritus II x Female!Reader)

Tags: Vampire Secondo, Blood Kink, Menstruation, Dub-Con, Cunilingus, Fear Play, Mentions Of Death, Degradation, Multiple Orgasms, 2nd Person POV

It was in the darkness of the abbey that you found him. A chill went up your spine, terror shooting through you at the horrific sight that you were a witness to.

There were rumors going around the ministry that the infamous Papa Emeritus II was actually a vampire. You didn't believe it, of course, that's just silly! But you could understand the similarities between the man and the fictional beast. His particularly sharp canines, his affliction with the sun, his avoidance of people, and his nocturnal habits. You thought he was just a bit quirky. Intimidating and terrifying for sure, but nothing more than a mortal man. When siblings started to go missing, you thought it was a mere coincidence.

You were proven wrong when you saw Secondo greedily slurping down on the neck of Sister Caterina, your roommate. You wondered where the girl ran off too at such a late hour, and hence you came looking for her. She was pale, covered in her own blood, but still hanging in there and struggling for her life. You gasped, which inadvertently drew the attention of Secondo, snapping his head towards your direction. Shit.

His pupils were blown out, a crazed look in his eye, and for a split second, you could swear his white eye was glowing. He dropped Sister Caterina unceremoniously to the ground, her body hitting the cold tiled floor with a loud thud. She pulled herself up shakily, using her remaining strength to hobble away as quickly as possible, in search of help. Secondo approached you, and all you could do was stand there, frozen, like you were in some sort of trance.

He towered over you, and your legs shook violently, fearing for your life. Still, you couldn't move, you could only shut your eyes tight and prepare yourself for your impending doom. This is it, you thought to yourself, feeling his hot breath on your neck, a droplet of Sister Caterinas blood dripping from Secondos mouth and landing on your nightgown. He inhaled deeply, a gutteral moan escaping his lips.

"Sister _____." He greeted lowly. "You tore me away from my meal. I forgive you, though. Her blood was bitter, no good at all. But yours..." He took another inhale. "Yours smells so fucking sweet. You're going to make such a fine dish for me." You felt his fangs graze your neck, but he paused, retracting himself and sniffing the air a few times in confusion.

"You're dripping." He growls, his breathing labored. "No wonder you smell so strongly. Your blood is already escaping you, isn't it?" He smiles devilishly, holding a sadistic look in his gaze. As fate would have it, you just so happened to be on the first day of your period. Shit, he could tell?

"Don't look so frightened now, darling. This just saved your life. I don't need to drain you lifeless, not when I have your cunt to get me full, hm?" He drops to his knees, hands securely on your hips so you can't get away. You try to push him away, but he snatches your wrist. "Do you want to live or not?" He spat frustratedly, brows furrowing in anger. A single tear escapes your eye. You nod.

"You do? Well so do I." He grumbles, flipping up your dress, exposing your panties and bare legs. "Don't take this personal. I kill only to survive. You think I like doing this? No dear, but I have to. I can't control myself..." His fingers hook under the sides of your underwear, pulling them down and exposing your pussy, glistening both with your menstruation, and also from arousal. Wait, how are you so turned on right now? Just a minute ago you thought you were going to die.

His tongue delves into you, flicking in and out of your hole rapidly. He moaned at the taste, nails digging into your hips. "Tastes so fucking good." He gruffs, voice vibrating against your folds. His fingers made its way up your thigh and in your cunt, curling and gathering all the blood he could possibly pull from you, sucking it up hungrily. This wasn't so bad, you thought, compared to the alternative. In fact, it felt fucking incredible, you couldn't help but moan, covering your mouth with your hand so nobody could hear.

Is it really so wrong to provide him a good meal? Not only are you keeping him alive, but you kept Sister Caterina alive as well. Maybe he could come to you around this time of the month every time he feels hungry, sparing the lives of countless people. Wow, how selfless, you're a real humanitarian! While saving lives was definitely in your mind somewhere, your main focus was a desire to be eaten out like this as often as possible, for as long as possible. You don't know what venom he injected in you to make this so enjoyable, but you weren't complaining.

Your moans catch his attention, a light smirk playing on his red stained lips. "You're enjoying this, aren't you? I thought for certain you'd hate this, having a monster devour you and all. Turns out you're a filthy slut, isn't that right?" He teases, licking a long, slow stripe along your slit. "You like having a creature of the night turn you into his bitch? A little blood bank? Lucifer below, you're pathetic." He shoves his face back between your legs, his degradation only making you wetter.

You were so close, biting your lip so hard you could taste your own blood. You can't see what Secondo likes so much about the taste, to be honest. Gripping helplessly at his scalp, you cum hard, legs shaking and a sharp cry of pain and pleasure spilling from your lips. Secondo holds you firmly so you don't topple over, lapping up your blood and your juices, deeply enjoying the mixture. "Just when I thought you couldn't taste any better." He comments. "I hope you don't think I'm finished with you just yet, my little blood bank."

He's back on you again, licking and sucking, overstimulating the life out of you. Sure, he won't kill you by blood loss, but you're almost positive this man is going to give you a heart attack with his movements. You cry, you kick, you struggle, but he has you speared in place, exactly where he wants you. Once the painful intensity of your last orgasm subsides, you're able to fully enjoy him eating you out again, moaning and whimpering in content, back against the wall as you just let it happen and give in to the pleasure.

-

Soon enough, you can't even remember how many times you came. You're nothing but a babbling mess, incoherent pleas making their way out of your mouth. Pleas for him to stop or keep going, that's unclear even to you. He's managed to ignore you, focusing solely on his need to feed. Fuck, when is he gonna be full? Greedy little asshole. At some point, you had forgotten exactly when or how, but you fell over from the debilitating orgasms. Secondo was at least kind enough to catch you and lay you down on the floor gently, before going right back into your pussy.

"Need more. Fuck, your cunt is so addicting. And your blood, cazzo... You will be seeing much more of me after tonight, I guarantee you that. You can't escape me now. You've gotten me hooked, puttana." He chuckles softly, sucking on your sensitive clit like he was trying to tear the damn thing off. Maybe he was, you couldn't tell. It feels to good to worry about anything anymore. He could kill you right after this and you wouldn't mind. What a hell of a way to die anyways, am I right?

As yet another orgasm was approaching you, tears streamed down your face, sobbing from the oversensitivity. You couldn't handle another one, you couldn't. But it didn't matter, he was going to give you one. He was relentless, frenzied, it's a wonder how he still has the energy after about an hour of going at it. I guess a perk of being a vampire is not having to worry about lockjaw anymore.

"You're going to cum again, girl? Delicious. Give me my dessert, Sorella..." He rumbles, tongue never stopping, never losing rhythm. His fingers applied just the right amount of pressure inside of you to send you toppling over the edge, screaming bloody murder as your cries of ecstasy echoed throughout the chapel. Your bones feel like they're fucking vibrating, you're so lost and too far gone. Hell, you've successfully forgotten your own name after that one. You are a husk of the person you once were, just like all his other victims, except you still had a heartbeat.

He finally pulls away, and you sigh in relief, body relaxing and melting into the floor, or at least that's what it feels like. Who knew stumbling across a vampire and being at their mercy would be so rewarding for both parties involved? You could feel yourself fading into a deep sleep. It's gonna be really hard to explain to the black mass attendees in the morning why you're panty-less and covered in blood, passed out on the floor, but you could care less. You're boneless, your only option is to remain grounded and let sleep take hold of you. You're at peace.

Until you feel his tongue on you again.

-

[saradika]

— if you send for me, you know I'll come

[series masterlist]

din djarin x f!reader

rated E - 4.5k

Tags: protective!neighbor!din, canon-typical violence, Nevarro is attacked, pirate invasion, death of pirates, angst, brief hostage situation, established relationship, outercourse, multiple orgasms, PiV

A/N: mini-sequel to only if for a night (but also can be read as a one-shot!) Spoilers for 03.05 - absolutely cheering over “I decided to take you up on your offer for a tract of land” and wanted to explore that

The blasts rain down. Turning parts of your beloved city into crumbling stone and smoking ash. A cry of distress sent to the New Republic. A whisper throughout the crowd saying that help isn't coming. That this time, Nevarro is on it's own.

But you're sure of one thing. Hang onto that hope like a lifeline, as you send out a small message of you own.

Knowing that Din Djarin will come for you.

That he will find a way.

The Corsair hangs heavy, overhead.

Appearing suddenly, a dark splash against the sunny, blue skies. A weight in your limbs, an uneasiness creeping up your spine as the hail comes in.

Stuck frozen in place, as you watch the face of the Pirate King - Gorian Shard - appear on the holo. Filling the room with his dripping visage.

Ushered quickly off to the side, as the two engineers make a hasty exit - though you don't remember moving. Listening to the sharp back-and-forth.

“Believe your ears then, and don't mistake my hospitality for weakness."

“The Spinward patrol passes through here regularly."

Karga holds his ground against the threats that fire down. Shard coming back for his revenge, for the pirates killed in the streets of Nevarro all those weeks before.

A day you remember well. The day he had come back into your life.

And for a second you feel safe - until you see that confident veneer chip. That hesitance in Karga's voice, in his words, as Shard calls his bluff.

The blasts that start to rain down, after.

That uneasiness morphing into pure dread. A matching fear that flashes in both your eyes, as the call ends, and the droid enters the room.

"High Magistrate, the escape pod is ready." It chirps. Voice friendly, in spite of the dire situation, "I will lead you to the launch site."

"I won't abandon my city," Karga shakes his head, turning your way, "You take it. Get to safety."

And in spite of your complaints before - those told in confidence to Din, about how your boss was too much, too extravagant, too Karga - you can't bear it. Not when you see how he puts the people first, instead of running.

You shake your own head. Words coming shakily, but you mean every one, "I'm with you. What can I do?"

"We have to get the people to safety. Send out a directive immediately." He barks out, and you're nodding. The command giving you something to do - unsticking your feet.

Raising the alarm.

Following him into the streets.

———

Your fingers key in the codes for the message - the cry for help. The recording Karga quickly made in his office after the evacuation had begin - his one shot before the building began to shake with the force of the blasts.

A message for Captain Teva, of the New Republic.

You had wanted to protest. Had tried to - arguing that there were others that could help.

"He's one man. He might not even come." Karga had snapped back. His patience thin - each second that passed meant another part of the city crumbled, "We'll have a better shot at surviving this if we reach out to someone with numbers."

You flinched at his tone, at the insinuation. The words from the message replaying in your head.

"The situation is dire."

"I'm afraid that our planet will fall."

His voice softened when he saw your expression, "We don't have time for another message. Send it."

Part of you had wanted to argue.

That Din would come, for you. If he knew you were in danger.

He'd save all of you.

He'd find a way.

Instead, you bit the words back. Focusing on the comm code that Karga had rattled off. The crushing bands still wrapped tightly around your chest as the message is sent, firing off with a sharp click.

Sending your own after, with a small wish - breathed out into the stars. These numbers long-since memorized, fingers flying over the keys. The briefest of messages, but you hope he'll understand.

Din. It’s the Pirates. If you get this, we could really use your help.

Please.

There's the boom of another blast, the floor rattling beneath your feet.

And then, you're running.

Retreating to the lava flats, with the rest of the city.

———

Dirt clings to your tunic. Clay dusting your side, your shoulder - from when you shielded a neighbor from a blast, tugging them down the alley.

No time to do anything more than get out. Following the waves out people out of the city limits. Watching as months and years of growth and progress and green crumble. Sending you into the wastes, once more.

Feet aching by the time you stop - shivering now, in the evening chill. The dark sky above illuminated with the golden and red flickering of a fire, tearing through the western edge of town. Sending up billowing smoke, blocking out the stars.

A grief that surrounds you, in the dark. A selfish ache in the way that you mourn for you home. The happiness you had built. Promising to look after his, after that night you spent together.

Having to face that you weren't able to. That there might be nothing left.

The thought follows you, seeping into your bones. Weighing you down, as you huddle in small groups. Fires dotting the lava flats, flickering in the wind. Shifting against the ground as you try to get comfortable - finding it near impossible.

Drifting off, when your eyes get too heavy to stay open. Even with the ridges of rock digging into your side, an arm tucked under your head.

You call to him in your sleep. Drifting off to the memories, on repeat for comfort. Replaying the messages you've exchanged, since he left.

Hoping you'll get the chance to see him. Even if it's just one last time.

Even if it's just in your dreams.

———

The Corsair lingers. Pirates deployed in waves, pillaging and looting. Those who stayed inside, those who refused to leave, were at their mercy. Turned into captives or pushed around. Forced to smile and serve food and drink as a blaster points at their guts.

Not daring to refuse.

There's not enough weapons left among you to fight back. Not thinking to arm yourself - all thought focused on getting out. Leaving you vulnerable - stranded on the dark field of igneous rock.

There's whispers of surrender. Looks thrown Karga's way, as he stands firm.

Still a beacon, in spite of the hardship.

But you stay firm, as well. You know hope will come.

You believe in him.

The hours pass and the pit in your stomach grows. A man breaks away, a hurried plan to sneak into the town. To try to gather those inside, to see if he can grab weapons.

He doesn't come back.

Instead of gunfire there's shouting now. Harsh laughter that filters through the whipping wind. Trails of smoke still rising up to the sky, where the ship still hangs - waiting.

Waiting for Karga's hail of surrender.

Waiting for the city to fall.

———

A cry breaks through the stilted silence. Everyone muted with worry - no longer speculating.

The pointing of fingers, as something streaks against the sky.

A glint of silver, shining like Beskar.

You know that ship. Have seen it, in the space between your house and his.

A leaping in your heart and a wetness on your cheeks that you don't even realize - as your shouts are among the first to rise.

Cheering, for the help that has come.

Watching as a larger ship joins his - as it opens, spilling figures with jetpacks into the air.

Karga smiles, as he meets your eyes. Relief in them, as he raises his comm.

"Thanks for your help, Mando." There's fondness in his tone.

You can't stop grinning, as the voice you know so well crackles back, "Heard you might need a hand."

"Be careful, my friend." He smiles, before growing serious, "They've got you outnumbered ten to one."

There's an edge to Din's voice then, the words low and smooth, “I like those odds."

Karga chuckles, reminiscing, "I bet you do."

There's a beat of silence, and then a final request.

“Karga. Keep her safe, for me."

His eyes find yours. Knowing who Din means - your heart flipping at the words.

A knowing smile, as he answers.

"You know I will."

The comm clicks off, but the heat that rises in your chest and face lingers. Hiding the smile as your face turns towards the sun.

Watching with the others as the two ships dart around in the sky. The sounds of blasters layering over each other from within the city.

The bright flash of red and gold as a hit is landed on the Corsair, the handful of snubfighters in the sky quickly dwindling.

Whispers of hope race through the groups of people around you. Steps as they start to head towards the city, as the pirates are picked off.

A groan, as the turrets above shift. A spray landing a kilometer away, but each round moving closer. Spending up dirt and rock and the dread is flooding though you again as it quickly approaches.

“They’re targeting us!” A cry goes up, as that bit of hope wavers.

The groups scattering, splitting apart as they back up.

Your eyes stay on the sky. Watching as the two smaller ships team up - and fire.

The blaze of fire and smoke as the Corsair tilts, and then plummets. An achingly slow descent, as the front tips down, colliding loudly with the rocky ground. Crumpling into broken metal, and the explosion that fills the sky is so bright that it hurts your eyes.

The Pirate King, defeated.

The cries around you change. Fear turning swiftly into joy. Voices blending and mixing until it’s just a drawn out, repeated chant.

“It's gonna be okay!”

———

You’re among the first to breach the far border of the city. The remaining pirates gathered in surrender, weapons thrown upon the ground.

The Mandalorians chasing them from the bowels of the city, intent on seeing things through.

But not everyone among the remaining decide to go so easily. Something moves at the corner of your vision, as you pass by the crumbling house.

Something tall and broad - turning just in time to see the mottled yellow skin of the Quarren as he lunges your way.

Fingers twist around you, hard and cold. Your breath in your throat as the barrel presses against your chin - using you like a human shield.

Another pair, their skin in matching shades of crimson, grab the older woman and the young man next to you. Mimicking their leader, guns clicking in their hands.

A forced negotiation.

Ice creeps into your veins - fearing that this is the end, when you were so close to salvation. Eyes wide as you look towards Din.

How he turns at the gasp that skitters through the crowd. The briefest second - when he sees you.

The twitch of his hand, as he stalks forward. A blaster raised so quickly you can barely blink before something hot and bright is shooting past your cheek.

Downing the pirate that’s holding you captive with a single shot.

Whistling birds from the Mandalorian at his side taking out the other two in an instant.

You’re in his arms a moment later. The beskar cool against your cheek as he pulls you to him. Crushing you against his chest, before he’s pulling back.

The swivel of his helmet as he looks - paying an abandoned storefront just off to the side. Hauling you with him as the Mandalorians round up the rest of the Pirates, as they finally surrender.

You can feel the few eyes that follow you - the weight of their gaze. But in this moment, you can’t bring yourself to care.

He’s ripping the gloves off - bare hands coming to cup your face the moment you’re inside. As if unable to help touching you himself, not wanting any layers as he tilts your face up to his so he can see you.

A slow drift of his helmet as he checks you over.

“Are you hurt?” Din rasps, “Are you alright, cyar’ika?”

The meaning of that word is still unknown, but there’s such an affection in the way he says it. Carefully, earnestly, and it has you nodding.

“I’m fine.” You croak, your hand coming to rest on his. Pressing it against your cheek, leaning into it.

Some of the stiffness in his posture wanes. Your back pressing against the wall as he crowds you, as relief crashes through him.

Staring up at him - feeling the rush of emotion. Making your words soft, no more than a whisper.

“You came.”

His own voice rough, “Of course I did. I always will.”

You smile then, at that.

Sweet and soft, just for him.

“I knew you would. I just knew.”

At your words - the adoring look you give him - his hand is raising. Traveling to his helmet. Lifting the edge, where you can just see the briefest glimpse of tan skin, the scruff of his beard.

Before your eyes are snapping shut, and his lips are pressing to yours.

And oh, how you remember them.

Your fingers curling in his cowl as you cling to him. The moan sliding from your throat as he leans into you, his other hand gripping almost painfully at your waist.

Desperate.

That’s how you feel. Like you can’t get enough, as you curve yourself against his chest. Lips parting when his tongue brushes against the seam, letting him deepen it.

Leaving you panting and breathless when he finally pulls back. Fingers searching for more, tangling in the belt around his waist as his hips rock against yours.

“You’re safe now.”

You hum in distracted agreement, something much more welcome than panic thrumming in your veins.

He’s there with you, hand roaming - fingers dipping under the hem of your tunic. Bunching it up until he can brush the bare skin at your waist. A thigh nudging between yours, your own face reflected back in the shining visor.

Eyes half-lidden, with kiss-swollen lips.

“Din.” You whine, and he groans.

Hips rolling slowly against yours, just as the sound of his name echos.

Lower, this time. Modulated, like his.

The fingers slide from your shirt, but he stays close - twisting so he’s half-blocking you from sight.

From the sight of the Mandalorian that fills the doorway - tall and broad in his painted, blue armor. A cock of his head, as his arms cross over a thick chest.

“You did not tell us you took a riduur during your stay,” Amusement tinging his words, even through the helmet, “No wonder you were in such a rush to return.”

Another word to figure out - as Din’s posture stiffens, shifting closer to you. His hands on the wall, keeping you tucked carefully between them.

“What do you want?” He asks, not bothering to hide his own annoyance.

“Your friend, the Grand Magistrate, is requesting our presence.” There’s the low rumble of a laugh, “Or should I tell him you’re too busy?”

“We’ll be right there, Vizsla.”

It’s a dismissal, and the other Mandalorian takes it. Leaving the two of alone for a moment to make some swift adjustments.

The heat lingering in your cheeks, at getting caught. Grateful that the visitor wasn’t a few minutes later - certain that sight would have been a lot more than he bargained for.

A gloved hand is wrapped in yours, as you head back into the light.

Where Karga is waiting, ready to thank them. A generous gift offered - the land from the western lava flats to Bulloch Canyon, ceded to the Mandalorians.

His smile bright, as he tells them, “You may no longer have a home planet, but you do now have a home.”

———

That edge is tempered, now that Din knows you’re alright. But there’s a part that still lingers as he’s surrounded by his kin, his words clipped and short.

Stuck helping with negotiations - getting the ships moved to the landing pads, instead of hastily exited.

Unhappily separated, as you’re pulled into your own work. The city littered with debris and broken buildings. Bodies and smoldering fires.

Better to stay outside for one more night - to begin together, at dawn.

The best warriors sent in just to grab supplies. Coming back with materials to set up small camps, tents.

You work on your own, cozy enough for two. Not needing much more space, after hearing that Grogu would be staying safe with the other foundlings. Finding a spot to the edge of the camp of the Mandalorians, hoping Din will be able to find you.

Exhaustion tugging at you as you curl in the bedding, determined to wait up for him. That dull thrumming persisting between your thighs, even now.

Anticipating his return.

But the soft glow that the fire casts on the canvas starts to tug you under. Hazy with sleep when his voice finally comes, the sky an inky indigo above.

The soft call of your name.

A body lowering next to yours. Curling behind you, and you’re so relieved and content that you don’t mind the cold bite of the beskar against the thin fabric of your top.

A stiffness lingers in the way he holds you. As you’re unable to help arching back, his breath crackling harshly through the vocoder as your ass presses against him.

An arm, wrapping around you - his hand splaying across your stomach when you do it again. The thrust of his hips as he meets you this time, grinding himself against you.

“I need you.”

His words - low and rough - make you clench.

Rocking against him with more intent, as his bare hands begin to roam, like before. Rucking up your shirt so he can touch bare skin.

“I thought I would be too late.”

He can say it now, when it’s dark.

When it’s just the two of you.

Those worries finally breaking through the armor, spilling out from the cracks. Extracted, by the feeling of your body against his.

Letting himself breath for the first time in hours. An urge to feel every inch of you, to make sure you are truly okay. Wanting to make you forget, with the only way he knows how.

“You have me.” You tell him, catching his hand - dragging it up to your mouth. Pressing a kiss against the calloused knuckles, fingers warm in yours, “I believed in you.”

It feels silly now, that you ever doubted. Even for the brief second.

His groan is low, the edge of the helmet biting into your shoulder. Hand pulling free so he can grasp at the edge of your leggings - your hips rising so he can push them down.

Leaving them twisted around your thighs as his hand follows, dipping between them. Cupping you, where you’re molten. Aching, from that moment when he kissed you - replaying it over and over in the tent while you waited.

The tips of his fingers finding where you’re slick - rubbing tight circles, like he did in the springs. Each pass sends a little jolt down your spine, a flicker of pleasure in your brain.

Your breath short and sharp as you flex into his touch - a low whine when he pulls away to free himself. Feeling the heavy, velvety curve as it nudges against your ass. Damp fingers smearing your slick across a thigh as he lifts it.

Fitting his length between them, pressing it snug against your wet pussy. Petting at your clit again, as he thrusts.

Fingers focused - no teasing tonight. Gliding over the senstive bud as he grinds against you, fucking your thighs with his swollen cock. The ridge pressing against your folds as his hips roll, adding to your mounting pleasure.

Each pass brings you higher.

Each slide of his hips coming easier, as your arousal slicks up his cock. Dragging against you - making you want to just tilt your hips, so during the next pass, he’ll nudge inside.

Instead, your fingers drift beneath your shirt. Teasing your breast as the other hand makes a fist around the tip of his cock, a gentle pressure when his hips press flush against yours.

His groan joins yours, his pace stuttering.

That low voice coming out ragged, as your thighs tighten around him, “Come on my fingers, and you can have it.”

It has you clenching around nothing, a jerk of your hips into his touch.

“Please,” you moan, the familiar heat pooling in your belly. Winding with each swipe, as he presses just a little bit harder.

“Know you can,” He breathes, “Know you’re close.”

And you are - muscles tight as your focus narrows down to just his fingers. The heavy drag of his cock, so wet as it drags across sensitive skin.

The arm he has tucked under his head shoves beneath you, pressing between your breasts as he holds you tightly against him.

His breath ragged, loud through his helmet - only adding to the sensations that flood you. You own breath trapped in your chest, as everything strings tight.

Each gasping “oh” sending you higher. So close that your eyes screw shut - and when his cock catches against your entrance again, your fingers move.

A hitch of your hips as you guide the tip inside - Din’s moan filthy in your ear.

You come, as he’s pressing into you. Each shallow snap of his hips sinks him deeper, giving you something to clench around as you cry out his name.

A low groan that sounds close to a snarl, as he feels you. Hears your voice break on his name, pride flooding through him.

Not caring that someone else might hear.

Not this time.

Not when you’re pulsing around him, hot and wet and warm. Stiff in his arms as the spark flickers down your limbs, as you senselessly grind back against him.

Riding out the waves - until the fire that floods through you cools down to an ember, warm and low in your belly.

He pulls back, then - your moan pitiful as he leaves you empty. Urging you onto your stomach, as his weight presses against your back.

A sloppy thrust of his hips sends his cock against the curve of your ass, your thighs, before he finds you again.

Entering you with a long, slow thrust - punching the air from your lungs. His chest pressed against your back, braced on his forearms as his shoulder curl around yours.

Helmet biting into your shoulder as he pulls half-out, only to bury himself again.

“Fuck, mesh’la,” He groans, the words drawn out. You can only moan in response, as he splits you open, “So fucking perfect. My sweet girl.”

It’s needy, desperate. Clothes pushed to the side as needed, your legs pressed between his knees. His armor solid when it presses against you, the tent filling with the creak of the leather straps, the smack of skin on skin as he fills you.

Laid out, underneath him, fingers curling into the blankets as he pulls each soft sound from you.

Your thighs still bound by your leggings, making him feel even bigger, deeper, than last time. A little wiggle of your hips as you try to meet his thrusts, moaning against the bedding.

Half-finding your voice, panting the words out, “Feels so good. Gods, I missed you-“

His response a rough hum of agreement - nearly past words with his need. Managing a gritted out, “missed you, too” as his hips snap against yours.

Grinding himself deep, his cock dragging against your walls. Bumping that spongey spot that makes you see stars, over and over.

Until you can’t resist - until you’re shoving an arm between your stomach and the bedding. Reaching desperately between your thighs.

Fingers touching down on soaked skin, splitting around where he’s buried in you. Feeling the slide of his shaft, as his weight presses into just a little more.

It’s bliss, as your fingertips circle your clit. The heavy weight of him - the deep, pounding thrusts.

Din’s voice, so low in your ear. An edge that drives you wild, “I’m, fuck-”

He shifts, just barely slowing, “Want you to come with me. Can you do that?”

If he keeps it up, you know you can. Sending his cock against that spot, paired with the stroke of your fingers.

“Yes,” You manage, “So close-”

His reply is groaned out, a tremor in the way he holds himself. Losing that steady rhythm as your hips tilt, as he sinks just a tiny bit deeper. Listening to the way your breath changes - faster, higher.

Until his arm is shifting, the twist of his wrist as he reaches for your free one. Fingers entwining in yours, as your own vision starts to go hazy.

“Cyare, I can’t-” The words sound frustrated, but he can stop the rutting of his hips - so close to his own release. Trying to draw it out for you. Unable to hold back, as he feels you spread out beneath him.

“Wanna feel you,” You beg him, “Please, Din-”

Fingers circling quickly, feeling yourself tighten up again. His thrusts rough now, breath loud as he falls to the sound of your begging.

A pretty, drawn-out groan as he presses himself deep. Your name, mixed in with his breath as his cock throbs. Shallow thrusts with each pulse that ripples through him, as he empties himself.

It sends you over. Full of him as you come, milking him dry as your thighs clench. Shattering with white-hot pleasure, as he holds you - everything else seeming to fade, to grow soft and hazy.

Taking you a second to realize the strangled moans are yours, mixing with his soft, soothing praises.

Staying pressed together until your breathing returns to normal. Until he’s carefully sliding from you, and you’re doing your best to clean up, dripping and sticky with him.

Finding each other again after, in the darkness of the tent. Not wanting to be apart - not after today.

It feels like a weight been carved out of you. Leaving you hollow, in the darkness. Pressed up against him, though for the first time in days - you can breathe.

A comfort in the tents that surround you. The warmth of the fires, the city now silent.

“I don’t know what waits for us inside.” Your words are whispered out into the night. Guilt still gnaws at you, as you remember your promise, “I am so sorry that I couldn’t protect our home.”

“You did the right thing. That man’s cruelty is not your fault.” A palm strokes down your arm, your cheek pressed against his bare chest. Feeling the rumble of his words as they comfort you.

“If anything, it is mine.”

It has your head tilting up, chin pressing into this skin. Frowning, as you repeat his words back to him, “His cruelty is not your fault either. I heard what Karga said. They shot first. They chose to return.”

He makes a sound of uncertainty, as silence settles. A long moment passing, before you’re unable to help asking. Clarifying.

"Are you really going to stay, this time?"

The hand moves to your back then, pulling you closer. Tucking you further against him, until your nose is brushing the warm skin of his neck. Filling your senses with him - his voice, the warm, familiar scent of leather and metal and him.

"Yes, cyare." He soothes, "We'll stay. And if anything has happened to our home… we'll rebuild."

And you can hear the smile in his voice then, the word home. Because it was before, and it still is, now.

A finality in the way he says it. His own comfort in knowing that you're safe. In knowing that his culture will flourish here - that the children of the covert will feel what it is to play in the sunlight, once again.

“Together."

But if you send for me, you know I'll come

And if you call for me, you know I'll run

I'll run to you, I'll run to you

I'll run, run, run

(Mando’a: mesh’la - beautiful / cyare & cyar’ika - sweetheart / riduur - spouse)

[leonrot]

— Wrong Place, Wrong Time

Summary: You never thought you'd meet the masked vigilante who protects the streets of New York and you certainly never thought you'd almost die from getting run over by weird rhinoceros.

Word Count: 2.2k

Pairing: Spider-Man!Leon Kennedy x Female!Reader

Tags: descriptions of injuries, hurt/comfort, alternate universe (spider-man)

A/N: this is inspired by this leon bot on c.ai and after rewatching the amazing spiderman i couldn't not write something about it. this is proofread by me yet again so apologies for any mistakes that i missed. also,, i don't believe there's anything suggesting the reader for this is female but i put marked as such anyways because if i write more about spiderman!leon i will end up using female terms and such. speaking of which if you want more spiderman!leon let me know, marvel is another one of my big interests so id love to expand on this idea more!!

Sitting at a table in the diner you and Leon frequent you slump down in your chair, huffing in annoyance as Leon’s voicemail greeting hits your ear.

Hi, this is Leon Kennedy, I can’t come to the phone right now so please leave a message after the beep.

This is the third time you’ve tried calling him this past hour alone, your roommate supposed to have been meeting you at the diner you both frequent multiple times each week. You’re used to him being late, but you’ve been waiting for over an hour and by now he would have usually texted or called to explain why he’s running late.

Wrapping your hand around the glass of water sitting before you, you bring the rim of the glass to your lips, taking a sip as you gaze out the diner’s front windows.

Despite nighttime being on the horizon the streets of Queens are as busy as the rest of New York is, people constantly in a hurry to be somewhere. The inside of the diner is peaceful, the sounds of the conversing patrons a quiet murmur alongside the gentle hum of various machines back in the kitchen.

A barely started book lays before you, Leon’s tardiness having drawn your attention from the pages. It’s common that you join him at the diner to read while he catches up on work. You find comfort in being in his presence, even if his attention is focused on editing some of the numerous photos he’s taken recently.

As your mind drifts and you lose focus of your surroundings you don’t realize the mood around you shifting rapidly.

“Holy shit!” A guy sitting a table away from you yells, startling you out of your thoughts.

You glance his way confused, but a loud bang and the sudden surge of shouting has your head snapping back towards the diner’s front windows.

The people outside are running, the fear on their face as clear as day. The table you’re sitting at starts shaking, the ground underneath your feet vibrating in time with the rhythmic BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! that is steadily getting closer and closer. It sets everyone into an explosive panic, people trying to gather their things before darting out of the diner.

You’re quick to shove your book into the bag that hangs off the back of your chair, the force of you standing up nearly knocking the aforementioned piece of furniture over. You squeeze past people as you rush to exit the building, heart racing at everyone else’s fear. Skidding to a halt on the sidewalk outside your gaze is drawn to the left, looking down the street.

Cars are swerving all over the road, desperate to get away from something. Something big.

A huge man in a metal rhinoceros shaped suit comes barreling down the road, everything around him shaking with each heavy step he takes. There’s something — more like someone — hanging onto his back, a flash of red and blue bright against dark gray metal. You immediately recognize the colors belonging to New York’s very own masked vigilante, Spider-Man.

You’re frozen in place, wide eyes watching the scene unfold before you. Spider-Man leaps off the back of the man (if he can still even be called that), shooting web after web towards the rampaging villain. It does very little to slow him down and you realize a moment too soon that the swerving monstrosity of a man is heading straight your way.

Your bag dropping to the concrete sidewalk is the only movement you’re able to make, fear rendering you paralyzed. As he gets closer and closer you can’t help but think that this will be the end of you, death by rhino shaped man.

Luckily for you, Spider-Man is incredibly good at his job.

Lean arms wrap around your waist and lift you off the ground, swinging you away from the quickly approaching danger. The Rhino barrels past, his metal clad shoulder connecting with Spider-Man’s back as he gains momentum with his web swing, sending the two of you flying down the street.

You don’t know if it’s fast reflexes or pure luck that has your red and blue hero curling around your body before the two of you connect with the asphalt road, his back taking the brunt of the fall. The air is ripped from your lungs at the impact, your head swimming with dizziness as you’re quickly yanked to your feet.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Spider-Man franticly asks you, his head lowering as he tries to meet your gaze.

Your muscles are screaming at you from the impact, you’re short of breath and you’re sure you have at least one or two scrapes from the rough road but you’re alive. You glance up at his mask’s white scleras and nod.

You see a slight shift in the fabric of his mask, as if he’s opening his mouth to start speaking up but a thundering roar cuts him off. The Rhino is pulling himself out of the rubble of the diner, his sights quickly settling on the two of you.

“Stay out of the way!” Spider-Man yells to you as he runs straight towards the villain.

The fight picks up once more, Spider-Man getting thrown and tossed around but getting up immediately each time. You’re so enraptured by the fight you don’t even notice the cops arrive until a hand is wrapping around your bicep and pulling you away from the destruction.

“You need to get out of here!” The cop barks at you. “Now!”

“So I can’t get a ride?” You grumble, watching the officer run to join the others in the fight.

As you quickly leave the scene you can’t help but spare a glance over your shoulder, watching Spider-Man swing around from building to building evading dodges like he knows they’re coming. Turning away you pick up the pace, thankful that you only live a handful of blocks away from the now destroyed cafe.

After roughly an hour of walking - although it feels longer due to the dull pain throbbing all over your body - you make it home. You barely remember to close the door before you’re dropping onto the couch, letting sleep pull you under.

You shoot up from where you lay sprawled out on the couch, the sound of the front door slamming shut startling you awake. Disoriented you whip your head around, eyes not yet focused.

“Oh my god, are you okay!?” Leon’s voice is right next to you, his knees hitting the wood floor of the  living room with a dull thud.

As your vision sharpens you’re finally able to take in Leon’s appearance. Your eyes widen in surprise and concern at his poor state.

“Are you okay? Jesus Leon, what happened to you?”

His left eye is a mottled mess of dark blues and purples, the black eye stark against his skin. The bruising trails down his cheek and jaw, stopping near his split bottom lip, spots of blood still fresh around the wound.

“You first. Do you need anything? Water? Advil?” He’s standing with a pained wince, limping in the direction of the kitchen.

“Leon! Slow down!” You snap, throwing your legs over the edge of the couch as you get up after him, biting back your own groan of pain.

He’s grabbing a cup out of the cabinet when you make it into the kitchen, filling it up with shaky hands. When you reach his side you grab the cup out of his hand and set it down onto the counter. You grab onto his arm to get his attention. When he finally looks at you his eyes are shiny, wet with unshed tears.

“I’m sorry.”

Your heart breaks at the sadness in his voice.

“If I had been there on time you wouldn’t have been alone in that shit show, probably wouldn’t even be hurt right now.”

Despite the protesting of your muscles you’re quick to pull him into a hug which is immediately reciprocated. His arms wrap around your waist drawing you in tight to his chest. He drops his head to your shoulder, warmth seeping into the fabric of your t-shirt as he sucks in a harsh breath.

“I’m alright, Leon. A little banged up and bruised, but alive. You being late is not the reason I got hurt, it was simply wrong place wrong time.”

Your hand rubs up and down his back in a gesture of comfort, hoping the contact helps ease his misplaced guilt. Your hands trail up his back and over his shoulders, each hand settling on one of his biceps as you pull away.

“Now tell me what happened to you.”

With a sniffle he blinks away stray tears as he meets your eyes. A lapse of silence fills the room before he speaks.

“I was on my way to you. Got caught up in the fight before it reached the diner.”

His words still hold a trace of guilt in them, but you chalk it up to him still feeling like he’s responsible for the state you’re in.

You give him a small smile, hoping to ease the heavy emotions residing in the room with as you say, “Guess you were also in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

It works when Leon rolls his eyes, a smile of his own tugging at his lips. “Guess so.”

Pulling away from him you grab the cup still sitting on the counter and hand it to Leon. Bending down you unearth a med-kit that’s kept underneath the sink. You’ve always found it a little odd how Leon insists on keeping fully stocked first aid kits all over the house — one in the kitchen, one in each bathroom and in each of your rooms — but you’re glad for it in this moment as you open it and pull out the advil.

You open the bottle and pass him two of the pills before grabbing your own cup of water and two pills for yourself.

“As someone who has watched half a season of Grey’s Anatomy, I think we should take these and get some sleep.” Your light-hearted words help ease the tension even more.

After taking the pain relievers you and Leon trudge to your respective rooms to get ready for the night. Cutting your nighttime routine short in favor of getting into bed faster, you make quick but careful work of changing out of your clothes and brushing your teeth. A brush is running through your hair as a knock echoes through the small bathroom you’re standing in.

“Can I ask you a favor?”

Leon’s leaning against the doorway of the bathroom when you finally look up at him.

“Maybe. What’s up?”

He shuffles a bit where he stands and he averts his gaze before he speaks.

“Can I sleep in your room tonight?”

You can’t help the way your eyes widen a fraction at his request.

It was about a year ago when you found an online ad of someone looking for a roommate. You were hesitant to agree, Leon was of course a stranger at the time, but you were in desperate need of a new place to live so you sent him a message pretty quickly to see if he was still searching for a roommate.

He had warned you the first night after you moved in that he had frequent nightmares. As the two of you got closer and closer overtime you went from waking him up with a gentle shake to his shoulder to crawling into bed with him, holding him close to help him fall back asleep after waking up in fear.

He’s never been the one to seek you out in regards to his nightmares however, and his request leads you to believe he anticipates having one tonight. Sadness squeezes at your heart.

“Of course you can.”

Still not looking at you he nods in acknowledgement before turning and leaving your room, you assume to go finish up getting ready to sleep.

He comes back into your room right as your crawling into bed. No longer wearing the hoodie he was in when he came home you can see even more bruises on his arms. You wouldn’t be surprised if the bruises extend across his torso, leading you to wonder just how caught up he was in the destruction caused by Rhino.

He’s hovering by the doorway as if he’s unsure he’s even allowed in your room despite having your permission. You throw back the comforter, uncovering the spot meant for him.

“C’mon Lee, it’s cold.”

It’s not really that cold in your room but the excuse helps nonetheless.

The mattress dips as he gets into your bed. Reaching up you flip off your bedside lamp, plunging the room in almost total darkness. The world seems to slow down as the two of you find safety in each others presence.

“Goodnight.” You murmur with a soft yawn, squirming around a little bit to find a comfortable way to lay with your aching muscles.

You can’t help but momentarily roll over onto your back as you get no reply from Leon. When your eyes adjust to darkness of your room you see him curled up tightly under the blanket, fast asleep. You smile to yourself as you roll back over and let sleep encompass you as quickly as it did Leon.

[bitchy-peachy]

Ramblings of "I Don't Agree With Your 'Lifestyle' But I Still Want To Be Friends"

The more I don't want to talk to a certain demographic, the more hellbent they seem to be all up in my social spaces.

Are you into humiliation? Are you that desperate to talk to someone that you pick arguments with the other side for social interaction and then have the audacity to ask, "Why can't we be friends?"

Some of Trump's people have a weird way of making friends. You seriously want someone like me, that hates your guts and now sees you as a danger to my life and the lives of others, to be your friend after you voted to hurt people like me? I've been tagged and followed by weird ass blogs that want to act like regular mutuals when they're disgusting cheese puff cultists.

Can't you stick to your fellow pure white christians and leave people like me alone?

You "disagree" with my  existence and are stupid enough to say "Me disagreeing with your entire life doesn't mean I want you dead."

Actually yes it does. You view my personal life and even ethnicity as something sexual and kinky, but yet you vote to make my existence illegal.

I'm a porn trope for insipid boring people raised in echo chambers. An exotic gothic mommy with an accent and weird beliefs that makes me "interesting". I have a lot of friends similar to me in likes and style and we've always noticed the sick fascination these fascist fucks have for us.

We're a novelty. It's sorta like what a friend told me once.

"They love our food on Taco Tuesday but on Wednesday they're calling ICE once they've got the recipe they plan on gentrifying."

These fuckers even lie about who they voted for to get into relationships with us. All the more reason to alienate your asses. You know we don't like you and still want to be there.

You don't have to be included in everything. I've seen some assholes even say that an interracial relationship isn't really interracial if there's no white person involved. You guys really showed us your thirst to be included in everything by how you called Obama, a mixed Black/White man, Black, while saying that Harris, an Indian/Black woman, wasn't really Black.

You even ignored how qualified she was to call her a DEI hire. She was way too good to be your president. I said it. TOO GOOD to be your president.

You completely disregarded the fact she was mixed because she didn't have a white parent, but 2 POC as parents. Your side used whiteness to determine her race.

Okay, I'll leave that there but I get really intense like this as a mixed woman of ambiguous features that gets confused with multiple ethnic groups frequently...

Some of you want to destroy us, view us as pornographic, entertainment and exotic beings like a freaking zoo. Everything we do is somehow done to turn you on and entertain you in your messed up mindset.

(and I'm not attacking all white people with this. I'm only attacking the willfully ignorant af ones that refuse to learn how fucked up they are. I've explained this issue many times before and they still want to fuck up so bad and impose their presence on us as if we're obligated to accept them. Apparently they are the only ones allowed to tell us they don't believe we should exist)

Maga are the type to want to go to a drag queens show to have a good laugh at a performance while... Not seeing the performers as real people with lives beyond your temporary entertainment.

My first spouse was a drag queen. Yes, it's not that big a secret. He was my spouse but worked in drag. I witnessed both sides of a coin during my 6 years of marriage to him.

As a man during the day he was respected and even feared (he was very fit and tall) but as his drag persona, she was beautiful and full of so much charisma that everyone had to simply stop to stare at her... While she was also sexually harassed and touched without permission. Her feminine appearance drew in disgusting people that didn't see her as having a right to her personal space.

Although we had our own set of problems, my ex always fought for women and protecting them because of his own experiences. He had been abused as a child as well by people that want to assault "femininity" since he had been a "pretty child".

One man even stalked my spouse and I had to pick him up from work.

I know people are probably shocked that a drag queen would marry a woman but... We are both bisexuals and found comfort in each other. It didn't matter to us that we were "odd". To us that "oddness" was normal.

The reason why I bring this up is cos the people that harassed my spouse and felt entitled to her body while in her fem appearance where people that were considered pillars of religious communities and it recent times have publicly supported Trump as a "true christian".

See what I'm getting at here. A lot of people on your side have being seeing us as undeserving of our protected physical space. Consent is seen as a dirty word and "woke" to a lot of you.

You're even having a hard time respecting consent when people tell you they don't want you in their lives for voting Trump.

"You like looking at us. Laughing at our jokes, yet if you had a chance you'd lie about us and want us dead."

You want them to entertain you but call them "groomers" and child molesters.

I've got a friend of mine that's gay and the amount of shitty braindead right wing comments he gets of, "I don't agree with your "lifestyle choices" but you're funny so I like you as a person-"

Do you fucks even listen to yourselves? I bet you think it's bad to refuse service to a christian nationalist but go outta your way to justify spitting on a potential customer for being lgbt+.

I've always played around with the idea of using my "beliefs" to completely scorn your ilk. I can say, "I don't hate you even though I disagree with your lifestyle choices," whenever religion or politics come up.

A lot of you think only your religion and beliefs are the ones to be respected. I'm a bruja in my community. Half of my family is. It's part of our culture and there's christians wanting to be friends with the "spooky bitches" that would be burned at the stake or forced into their colonizing religion if they had their way.

Last time I went to a wedding of two of my fave besties some straight guy that was invited made disgusting jokes about joining them in their honeymoon for "real sex". He was drunk, duh, but he went further by obnoxiously saying he was "living every man's dream" by being in a lesbian wedding.

He used alcohol as an excuse and even cried when getting kicked out... But a drunken man's ramblings are a sober man's truth.

Umm, lesbians are not interested in your dicks. They want other women. They're not doing this for your entertainment. This is why I say... We can never be friends with people like you that see our lives as something to get off on. You don't even see us as human and these election results further cements that along with the fact that you can't seem to respect boundaries set by others.

As soon as someone says they don't want Trumpers in their blog for literally voting to fuck up their rights to live peacefully ... A Trumper interacts starting a boohoo argument.

If they don't want you, they don't want you. You don't have to be included in everything, especially when you voted to exclude people like us . You've clearly drawn a divisive line in the sand with your vote and seem to be refusing to see how you utterly fucked up.

Even disabilities are fetishized and seen as insignificant ffs. Like "I get off on this but I think you don't deserve ACA for this disability I sexualized".

These things are what has made me realize that we don't have to accept you. In fact I find it annoying that people assume that we have to be "tolerant" when we should have been far from tolerant. Your side has been the ones that have voted for years to strip us of rights to even our money. Yes, social security, that we paid for, is getting cut cos republicans are such assholes that see the money we earned as a privilege.

It isn't just people like me that are in danger due to others voting without doing proper research. If you planned retirement, you'll have to wait till your 70s now, ACA and Obamacare are the same thing and the amount of people blindly celebrating getting rid of "Obamacare" while keeping "ACA" is sad. My neighbors fell for it and voted Trump. One of them has cancer. They're white and old, but have cancer and voted Trump. I heard the wife literally crying for awhile after another neighbor told her exactly what she voted for.

Her treatment... She voted against it. Their kids don't want them cos of how hateful they are and these people are gonna lose all medical aid and get their SS cheques cut.

All because they voted stupidly. Wanting cheaper groceries and "hurting the woke agenda" really has you getting FAFO.

But this isn't our lesson to learn. Its your lesson to learn. It frankly pisses me off that we're dragged along for the ride of your own karmic fuck up. We knew what was at stake while you didn't even bother yourself to think of the repercussions coming from your votes.

This is is no longer a difference of opinion but proof to show how selfish and with fake morals you truly are.

This is why we can't be friends. This is why we don't want to be friends.

Us distancing ourselves is about as much respect as we will show cos it's obvious you hate us so much you'll hurt yourself for it.

I need to stop posting essays, lol. But I hope someone that isn't offended easily but is willing to learn can finally see the whole picture and understand why we're feeling this way. I would consider making a series to show our perspective and to educate the already present ignorant stereotypes but I couldn't be assed to do it.

I mainly write for my own selfish reasons. To vent my inner thoughts and find others like me so we can build community among our peers.

If you attack my post, I don't care. I said my piece. If you want a proper conversation because you really want to understand... I don't know if I have the patience for it but I'm sure you'll find someone else that will...

Going back to my horror marathons.

[onlyseokmins]

"teach 'em"

Titling, tagging, and adding to my masterlist bc I don't think it deserves to get lost in my thot tags only... But it's informal af hehe

was thinking about loser!chan (again) who's like a 2.5 on the virgin (1) to whore (10) scale.

your new boyfriend is a sweetheart. he has the prettiest eye smile and he's uber talented. you love to see the passion when he's dancing and the strong bond between his older friends that are like brothers to him. that very same energy carries over to how he takes care of you. he's always fussing over your well-being and checking in on you in a non-intrusive way. you adore him.

bonus points for the foreplay before sex being hot and heavy. he's a fabulous kisser and he even has a great dick that feels equally as great when he's inside of you.

so why is he still a loser?

because his stroke game is sloppy at best and unfulfilling at worst, the latter happening much too often than you even want to admit to yourself - let alone him. which is shocking considering the way you've seen him hip thrust on stage.

it's just that you feel so freaking good squeezing around him and - oh fuck, oh no! - he's cumming way too soon again. you know this by how often he tells you, letting out a heavenly sob of "thank you for having the best pussy pussy in the world," and "thank you for letting me stick my dumb dick inside."

honestly, you're awfully flattered he has trouble retaining any control over himself. there's something quite intimate about the ropes of his release warming up your womb, still full of his softening cock as he grunts and babbles grateful praises in your ear.

but that doesn't eliminate the fact that you've only memorably cum once after the multiple rounds of sex you two have shared. and the reason you even did in the first place was by wrapping your legs around his hyper-thrusting hips, trying to keep him aligned to continuously hit that one spot with the enlarged head of his cock that had your toes curling.

and just as you're about to hit that peak climax - chan cums first - of course. but it's alright, you're almost there. gummy inner walls spasming around his pulsating cock while he whines at the sensitivity. what finally tips you over that much-needed edge is the warm dampness pooling in your clavicle - your sweet channie so pussy-drunk he's drooling on and over you. only a fool wouldn't forgive him for any of his blunders. though it is your first achieved orgasm with him, you're elated that he possesses some capability of making you cum.

but that was a good month (or more) ago and it's high time that you have that deep conversation with your loving boyfriend. and he's as remorseful as expected. in fact, you think he's near tears at the fear of you breaking up with him over this.

you aren't - obviously. he's perfect in every way, he just needs to learn how to use his dick better to please someone. and it certainly piques your interest when he cusses a certain someone out under his breath while running a distressed hand through his hair.

"what did you just say?"

"um... that it's all cheol's fault."

oh. so your boyfriend's technique actually sucks only because he had a bad teacher. not because he's inherently bad at sex. it doesn't quite add up though, because seungcheol is allegedly the famed fuckboi of the century and self-rated an 11 on the virgin to whore scale...

"call him."

"what?"

"i need to conduct some research."

so chan does as he's told, dialing the bane of your existence because you've never truly gotten along with that competitive, cocky son of a bitch from your graduating class.

"hello?"

"what would you do to make me cum?"

your boyfriend looks so mortified you're pleasantly surprised he hasn't passed out or hung up already. and seungcheol is either too stunned to speak or silently gloating before he finally replies, "darling i think you called the wrong number... with the phone of the one you're supposed to be talking to about this. are you drunk? where's that little boyfriend of yours?"

"i'm not drunk," you roll your eyes hard enough so he can hear it in the tone you always use with him. "and he's not little."

"could've fooled me."

"i'm sure you would know how big he is since you supposedly were the one who taught him all he knows."

seungcheol snorts. "guessing he's not able to satisfy you with that so-called big dick of his."

"i dunno, i think it's 'cause he had a shit-ass teacher. tell me, have you ever made someone orgasm before? like for real?"

"not anyone with the kind of attitude you have." there's some shuffling in the background. "brats like you... well, they - you - don't deserve it."

"gosh, you're so irritating." you spit out before smiling kindly at chan, squeezing his hand reassuringly. "hey, cheol... i think you're avoiding my question so you should come and show us how good your methods really are. and maybe you can make me cum along the way with such stellar teachings."

and then you hang up.

"i-i - " chan stutters, "if he's gonna come down... i m-mean... i'll study harder for you, baby - "

"relax," you press a finger to his lips and then smirk when there are two sharp bangs resonating outside your shared apartment, "looks like our sulky upstairs resident decided to grow a pair."

your boyfriend sighs. "couldn't resist, could he?"

sure enough, when you open the door - there stands your nemesis - choi seungcheol.

he glares, daring to try and look at you with a hint of disdain as if he isn't the one who has a light sheen of sweat on his forehead after running down the steps rather than wait for the elevator. impatient as always, along with a growing bulge in his sweatpants.

"wow... you came so fast!" you fake-clap to mock him further. "i always knew you and channie wanted to share me... trying to ruin my precious boyfriend's dick game 'cause you were jealous he got inside my tight, wet cunt that you always wanted first."

chan's mouth nervously opens and closes behind you and he gulps when the eldest of his friends gives him that look. "i-it wasn't my fault!"

you cling to his arm with a pout, eating up the way you can play off this game with the other man who's nothing but a menace.

"don't be mean to the love of my life, cheollie."

if the look shared between them hadn't already dampened your panties, they soaken even further when seungcheol's dark gaze lands back on you.

feral. hungry. wanting.

got him.

you've always had him wrapped around your little finger anyways and he hated... loved... every moment of it.

"on the bed. naked. both of you. chan on top," he commands - no, demands - and you slide excited fingers down your boyfriend's forearm and take him by the hand, skipping to the bedroom.

while getting into said position, you both start giggling at the realization while whispering words of love to each other that has seungcheol rolling his eyes because it feels like he's already forgotten.

he flops dramatically on the ottoman by the bed and loudly says, "alright young 'un. go ahead and start su - "

"i want you to fuck me, channie. please put your huge dick in my needy pussy... i'm dripping..." and then you whisper in his ear, "all for you, promise."

"shit," your boyfriend - ever the good listener - rubs his tip along your entrance in awe before sliding in with a whine, "you're ruining the bedsheets already..."

"ah please, ruin me."

"fuck, baby you're gonna ruin me."

seungcheol's eyebrow twitches. so does his cock. "hold on a sec, you're going too fast - "

"faster! destroy my cunt with your large cock! i love your fat cock in me so much."

you cling to chan's shoulder blades as he gets lost once more in the rhythmic pulses of your walls perfectly massaging his leaking dick. the extra presence in the room no longer even a thought with his erratic, achingly desperate thrusts. though you're trying to coach and egg him on as usual, he doesn't even need to be hitting your g-spot at this moment because you stare over his shoulder at a different set of brown eyes that shoot heat undeniably right to the center of your core.

seungcheol's jaw is clenched, a hand over his own hard-on. either to hide the pre-cum starting to stain his sweats and/or reluctantly giving in that he's enjoying this more than anyone could even think.

unfortunately, you're moaning so loudly over and over again about the thick, wonderful, ginormous cock (so true) of your beloved boyfriend that he's getting irked again and hates how it's kind of killing his mood.

"that's just 'cause you haven't seen mine yet," he grumbles.

scratching at chan's back, you sneer at the bitter observer. "fine, by the bed. naked." you mimic his tone, if not some of his words, from before. "let me see that prized fuckboi cock you're so proud of."

and soon enough you have one impressively large cock in one hand and your boyfriend about ready to coat your pussy with his cum.

and even sooner, you have two men on their backs for you - one weeping (and his poor dick too) from the overstimulation and the other nearly tearing your ruined bedsheets because you are so insistent on (meanly) edging him with your cruel grip on his large cock.

"fuck you," seungcheol huffs.

"you wish," you bite back and seat yourself back on chan hearing his telltale whimper. making sure to catch the final weak spurts of his cum in your greedy cunt.

let's just say with seungcheol's lack of assistance but much needed presence, you work on effectively teaching not only your darling boyfriend how to please his partner but also the fake fuckboi that might just join your sexy sessions from now on.

if not to learn from the real pro, then definitely in the hopes that one day he might get to touch, taste, or fuck even the tip of his cock in your pussy he's been fantasizing about for years.

[melverie]

Aaahhh, thank you so much for the tag @king-a-queen!! 💚💚

15 Questions Tag Game

01 - Are you named after anyone?

First name: nope Second name: yep, after my grandma

02 - When was the last time you cried?

About a week ago bc I was laughing too hard Also techinically this morning. My eyes just started tearing up a bit while I was still in bed & staring against the wall. I guess that white wall was just tugging at my heartstrings

03 - Do you have kids?

The only children I have are my OCs <3 My current beloved OCs are Aym, Marchosias (💖💖💖💖💖), and Baal; all for Obey Me

04 - What sports do you play/have you played?

So as a kid, I took MSE (self-defense) classes, I did ballet for a short while, and I played badminton. But now I'm not really doing much sports anymore. I'm occasionally working out in a sad attempt to stay healthy but that's...not working out all that well because I keep forgetting about it lol. That being said, I walk anywhere as long as it's a walkable distance away (to me, that's around 90min max), idc it's the European mindset. Der Fußbus hält überall :)

05 - Do you use sarcasm?

As if I would ever smh what are these accusations

06 - What is the first thing you notice about people?

When I pass strangers on the street, I try to look for little moments that bring them joy. That being said, 90% of the time I'm just lost in my own thoughts & have completely tunnel vision, so imagine noticing anything 😭 When I first meet people tho, it's usually the way they look at you, which tbh is a little ironic because I sometimes just cannot look people in the eyes NFDHSKGJHKSDLGS

07 - What's your eye color?

They used to be blue, but now they're more of a greyish green with a few brown spots in them

08 - Scary movies or happy endings?

Okay endings, actually! Where characters don't get the happy ending they were hoping for, and some things are still a little messy, but all in all things are okay and they finally get to breath again. Though I guess that's kind of a happy ending? lol

09 - Any talents?

My newest talent is being able to imitate the cry of an owl. My sister explained it to me earlier & once I got it to work I've been doing it non-stop until I got lightheaded 😭 Worth it tho Other than that, being able to teach myself the basics of a lot of things within a day (one of the upsides of ADHD), as well as abandoning a lot of my projects after a while because I suddenly decided to start a completely different one (one of the downsides of ADHD) I also have a real talent for writing angst. Ask any of my closer mutuals, I keep terrorizing them with my ideas (love you guys 💖) And finally: telling myself that I'll go to sleep early & then it's 5am

10 - Where were you born?

in Germanyyy fun fact: I was born more or less close to a town that has a store called 'Mephisto' lol

11 - What are your hobbies?

being insane, obviously 💚 some of my mutuals can surely attest to that lol No, but in general I enjoy writing & drawing, as well as, uhm. Randomly deciding to take up multiple really time-consuming projects, such as the OM card rec thing I did that I still need to update ahhhh, my Obey Me OC & MC ask game that originally had 200+ questions before I cut it in half out of fear of it being too long, half of my side blogs, and SOOOO many other things. <- or in short, being insane 💚 I also really love cooking & baking! Side note, if anyone wants an easy chocolate lava cake recipe, you just need to ask... 👀 Also lately it's just been romancing Thanatos in Hades because I randomly remembered that I hadn't done that yet

12 - Do you have any pets?

I used to have clownfish and a starfish, but other than that I've never had any myself. I love the dogs I dogsit with all my heart tho, and there is this cat that I sometimes meet on my way to work. She always runs up to me when she sees me and won't stop meowing until I start petting her, and last time she climbed onto my lap (I sat down in the middle of the sidewalk, I did not care lmao), she's literally the sweetest 😭😭 I also ring the doorbell for her whenever it rains so she doesn't have to stay outside lol

13 - How tall are you?

1,68m or 5'6 if I got the conversion correct lol

14 - Favourite subject in school?

Heavily depended on the teacher, but generally art class because we usually got to work on whatever we wanted with and listen to music. Also English in 9th grade, math in 10th and German in 11th because the teachers were great

15 - Dream job?

I've been thinking of translations in general/software localizition for a while now. I just love dissecting all the small differences between languages (D.D.D.s being called 'D3' my beloved), + there are so many invisble choices made when translating. You'll always lose something because every language has its little quirks and a different mindset that can't be translated directly, but you'll also gain something that the original version didn't have. It's an art form in itself, and I really love that <3 The other job that keeps popping into my mind is event mangement. I already get to organize a ton of things for my uni since I'm part of the student council for one of my two majors. It's exhausting, but also really rewarding when you have people come up to you afterwards to tell you how much fun they had!

No pressure tags for a bunch of people, hehe >:) @alpine-forget-me-nots @healersadjust @misc-magic @sweetbrier2908 @reblogs-are-the-love @shootingstarrfish @mjoria @too-much-gacha @layphie @katboykirby @ghostlyyraccoon @lost-in-lamentation @bagofwetmice @glamphantasm @wizardthesai @mellonyheart @arlatthan as well as anyone else that wants to join!