#doesn’t even have a roll for persuasion

[wisterialwhymsy]

the moments in between

series masterlist

part 4 !!!!! bang chan x gn! reader wc: 3574 warnings: panic attack, in depth (ish) description of a trauma related panic attack, anxiety, physical touch, chris is a sweetheart as usual, lovely and fluffy, reader gets a miagrane, sleep issues, platonic (...?) affection, slight angst, complex emotions, they have abath together (with bathers on), adorable soft fluff :) a/n: sorry this took so long, lifes been hectic and i'm starting uni soon ive been busy lol

“Ooh that feels nice.” Chris mumbles as you gently stroke your fingers through his freshly washed hair.

“You like it?” You chuckle as you look down at where he’s situated on the floor in front of you.

“We need to do this more often.” Chris murmurs as he leans into your hands.

“Hold your horses. We haven’t even started.” You say, giggling as he whines when you move your hands.

“Okay so, once you're out, gently dry your hair with a towel.” You start, opening the tub next to you. “Microfibre, or anything generally soft is preferred.”

“Then, once it’s somewhat dry, you put in a leave-in conditioner.” You continue as you spread some leave-in-conditioner on your hands.

“You then apply it to your hair, you have to like, comb it through.” You murmur as you gently comb the product through his hair.

“Then…” You mumble as you pick up the bottle of gel, squeezing some onto your hands. “You put the gel on. And then you have to scrunch it.”

“Like this.” You say as you gently scrunch his hair, careful not to accidentally pull it. “Until your curls are more defined.”

“Then you scrunch it again with a t-shirt, or soft towel.” You hum, repeating the process with an old t-shirt.

“You can then let it air dry, or if you want more defined curls you can use a diffuser.” You finish, patting his shoulder to signal that you’re done.

He turns around, still on the floor but now facing you.

“As much as I appreciate you showing me, I will absolutely never be doing that.” He says sincerely and you groan.

“Chrissss! You have to take care of your hair!” You whine as he giggles.

“Can’t you just do it for me?” He gently rests his chin on your knee and you inhale sharply. 

“I won’t be here everyday.” You sigh, trying to ignore how your stomach somersaulted at the touch.

“Then move in with me or something!” He playfully whines, his words carrying a sense of unspoken sincerity as he presses his chin into your knee slightly.

“And give Mia more to gossip about?” You laugh as he groans.

“Let them gossip! We know we’re just friends! That's what's important.” He says as he looks up at you with pleading eyes and you try your best to ignore the sting of his words, choosing to unpack that later.

“I-” You start, looking down at his puppy-dog eyes. “I’ll think about it.”

He giggles cheerfully, sitting up on his knees to hug you and gently nuzzle his face into your stomach, making you giggle.

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊✮‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

The next few weeks flew by in a blur of persuasions and packing, and before you even processed that you agreed, you were sitting on the floor of your new room trying to construct a bookcase.

“I’m so glad you agreed to move in!” Chris chirped, his excitement infectious as he carried the final box inside.

“Still not sure how you convinced me.” You tease before scowling at the still-disassembled bookcase before you.

“Do you need help?” He asked, giggling at your growing frustration.

You turn to give him a petty glare, huffing as you turn back to the nonsensical instructions.

“Yes.” You concede, making him burst into laughter at your exasperation.

You roll your eyes at him and throw the instruction sheet in his general direction as he sits behind you.

He quickly looks over the sheet, immediately looking confused.

“Okay yeah, this doesn’t make sense.” He murmurs, looking between the sheet and the shelf.

“I KNOW RIGHT!” You exclaim as he tries to hold back a laugh.

“I vote, we use common sense and guess.” You say, on the verge of giving up.

He looks at you, humour and mirth evident in his eyes. “Okay, sure. You lead the way. But if it breaks, it’s not my fault.” 

You huff again as you stand up. “Let’s do this.”

“I can’t believe that worked.” Chris said an hour later.

“I know right!” You respond, proud of your handiwork.

“Do you want my help putting stuff away?” He asks, admiring the bookcase.

“Uhh… Can you help me put books away?” You ask, looking towards the 4 stacked boxes full of books.

“Yeah! Any particular order?” He asks, already turning to the boxes.

“Just by series or author.” You reply, turning to start to put away your clothes. 

“Let me know if you need help reaching the top.” You giggle as he gasps.

“Hey! I’m helping you here.” He scolds lightheartedly.

“Right, right, sorry.” You pause. 

“I’ll just get you a stepstool.” You say before erupting in a fit of giggles at his exasperated expression.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have let you move in…” He grumbles as he puts the books away.

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊✮‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

It had been a few months since you’d moved in with Chris and all was going well.

You sat on the couch reading a book when you heard the front door unlock. 

“Hey.” You murmur, looking up at Chris from your spot cuddled up on the couch.

“Hi.” He whispers tiredly as he puts his bag down and takes his shoes off.

“Long day?” You ask quietly as you put your book to the side.

“Yeah.” He mutters as he rubs his face.

“Anything I can do to help?” You ask softly as he walks over to you.

“Yeah, but I’m worried it’s weird.” He whispers as he sits on the other end of the couch.

“Hey, I won’t judge you. I promise.” You murmur as you offer him a soft smile.

“Can you just like…” He hesitates. 

“Hold me?” He whispers as he looks away.

“Of course.” You reply, holding your arms out for him to fall into.

You feel your heart flutter at the look of relief on his face as he snuggles against you, his face pressed against your stomach as you gently run your fingers through his hair.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” You murmur after holding him for sometime.

“I don’t think so.” He whispers in reply.

“If you ever want to, I’m here.” You mumble, continuing your gentle ministrations on his fluffy hair.

“Even if I cry?” He murmurs, his voice thick with emotion.

“Especially if you cry.” You respond and you swear you feel him breathe a sigh of relief.

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊✮‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

A few weeks later

You felt absolutely shattered, your eyes burned from the lack of sleep and your limbs were heavy with an ever-present ache. Once again, you struggled to sleep last night, the insomnia and nightmares winning out despite your many attempts to avoid them. Choosing to do something productive rather than wallow in your complicated emotions, you decided to make pancakes for you and Chris.

You were onto the final few pancakes when you heard someone softly padding into the kitchen.

“What’cha cooking?” Chris asks, his voice heavy with sleep as he came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, careful to avoid the hot pan.

“Pancakes.” You hum simply in response, focusing on the task at hand.

He nuzzles his nose into your shoulder as he slowly wakes up.

“This okay?” He mumbles against your shoulder.

You hum affirmatively, trying to maintain your focus.

“How’d you sleep?” He asks as he holds you close.

“Yeah, okay.” You murmur, the lie feeling thick in your throat. “How’d you sleep?”

“Fine, I actually fell asleep early for once.” He mutters as you flip the pancake.

“So like… what. 11:30?” You tease, allowing your attention to shift from the pancakes slightly.

“Heyy! You should be happy for me, you’re the one always telling me to sleep earlier.” He whines, trying to hide his giggles.

“Fine, fine. I’m glad you slept well.” You hum, moving one hand to squeeze his hand where it wrapped around your waist.

He nestles his face in the crook of your neck and you freeze, your stomach turning uncomfortably and nausea rising in your throat.

He pulls back immediately upon noticing your discomfort.

“Not okay?” He gently asks, removing his hands from around your waist and despite the chaos in your mind you mourn the loss of his body against yours.

You can hear your heart race as you lean to turn the stove off, each echoing beat spiking your anxiety as your thoughts spiral.

“Uh. No sorry.” You mutter, trying to ignore the familiar sensation of your breath catching in your throat.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay, don’t apologise.” Chris whispers as he notices the tears in your eyes. “Can I touch you?”

You nod hesitantly and as soon as he pulls you close, tears begin spilling down your face as you see memories of them flickering in your mind.

“You don’t need to apologise, it's okay.” He murmurs, gently tracing invisible circles along your back.

“You’re allowed to have boundaries, and I’m sorry for crossing them.” He affirms as the invisible circles he’s tracing turn into little stars and hearts.

“Thank you for telling me, I’m really proud of you.” He affirms, gently pulling you back to wipe the tears from your eyes.

“You are so strong. And incredible. You deserve the world.” He pulls you back into his chest, holding you close as you bawl into his shoulder.

“Do you want to go sit on the couch?” He gently asks after some time, when your sobs had eventually turned into hiccups.

You shake your head, sniffling as you pull back and wipe your eyes.

“Thank you.” You murmur before turning towards the stove where the half-finished pancake lays. “But there’s still one more pancake.”

He pulls you back into his chest, resting his face in your hair as he holds you close.

“We have enough pancakes. Do you want to go set the table? I’ll clean this for you.” Chris murmurs softly before gently guiding you away by the waist.

You simply hum in response, too emotionally exhausted to say more, before going to set the table.

Chris appears at the table minutes later, bearing two plates of pancakes, one lovingly decorated with your favourite toppings.

“You okay?” He asks softly as he places the plate down in front of you.

You nod, scared that speaking will release the floodgates of your emotional turmoil.

“I’m really sorry. I should’ve remembered that you don’t like neck stuff.” He mumbles as he sits beside you.

“No, it’s not your fault.” You start, hoping that your voice sounded stable. “I overreacted. I'm sorry.”

“You didn’t overreact. You’re allowed to have emotions.” Chris states as you busy yourself with your pancakes in an effort to distract yourself from your overwhelming emotions.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asks softly a few minutes later, and the concern in his voice sends a pang to your stomach.

“Yeah, just tired. I haven’t been sleeping well.” You mutter, trying to ignore the nausea in your stomach.

“Oh, I get that. Do you want to talk about it?” He gently enquires as he starts to eat his pancakes.

“Um. I don’t know.” You reply, unsure.

“No pressure. But I’m here if you want to talk.” He murmurs, gently nudging his knee against yours, making you giggle.

“Uh.” You start after the two of you sit in silence for a while. “I just keep getting nightmares, and it takes me ages to get to sleep.”

“Wanna cuddle?” He asks, somewhat jokingly and you almost choke on your pancakes.

“Oh my god. Please don’t die.” He says, patting your back as you recover.

“We don’t have to. But if you think it might help, it could be worth a shot.” He murmurs as you consider his proposition.

“Okay.” You reply, desperate to try anything.

“Really?” Chris exclaims excitedly and you laugh before collecting your plate and putting it at the sink.

“Now?” He asks, immediately standing behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Sure.” You hum, and you're caught off guard when he picks you up, carrying you to his bedroom.

“Chris!” You scream before the two of you erupt into giggles.

“Cuddle time!” He exclaims before dropping you on the bed, immediately shuffling in behind you.

He immediately pulls you to his chest, wrapping his around your stomach and pressing his face into your hair.

“This okay?” He asks gently as he holds you close.

“Uh, yes but-” You begin as you turn around, shifting so that you’re facing him.

“Hi.” You whisper, caught off guard by how close your faces are.

“Hi.” He whispers in response, and you swear you see his eyes flick to your lips for a second.

“Can I uh- lay on your chest? Heartbeats make me uh, calmer.” You mumble, struggling to avoid making eye contact with how close your faces are.

“Of course.” He murmurs back, smiling as he shuffles to lay on his back, allowing you to shift yourself into a more comfortable position.

“Thank you.” You mumble, immediately feeling sleepy once you rested your head on his chest.

“Always.” He murmurs, softly brushing the hair off your face before pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “This okay?”

You hum and nod, trying to ignore the swirl of emotions in your stomach as your heart rate quickens- grateful that you were listening to his heart and not the reverse.

The two of you lie there for a while, you listening to the gentle thump of his heartbeat as he softly runs his fingers through your hair.

“I still can’t sleep.” You mumble sometime later. “Like I’m sleepy, but I can’t sleep.”

“Do you want me to sing to you?” He whispers. “Didn’t you say that gentle touches on your arm makes you sleepy? I can do that.”

You hum in consideration, too exhausted to be flustered by his sweetness. “Yeah, like gently tracing on my arm.”

“Like this?” He mumbles before gently running the tips of his fingers down your arm.

You nod, already feeling sleepier.

“Want me to sing too?” He asks gently and you hum in response.

He starts softly singing one of your favourite songs as he continues his gentle tracing on your arm. You feel yourself slowly drift to sleep, encased in a soft blanket of his affection, as well as the comfort and safety he brings you.

Later, a while after your breathing evens out and he hears your soft snores, Chris stops his soft singing and gentle tracing, instead pressing a soft kiss to your hair and looking down at your sleeping face.

“Love you bug.” He murmurs before closing his eyes as your soft snores lull him to sleep.

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊✮‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

You could vaguely hear Chris’s soft footsteps as he tiptoed into the room.

“Hey love. You okay?” He asked softly, sitting down next to where you laid on the bed.

“Yeah.” You mumble out, voice hoarse from your medicine-induced nap. “My head hurts less.”

“I’m glad.” He hums, brushing your hair out of your face and looking down at you sweetly.

“I need to shower.” You murmur, trying to sit up before you're interrupted by a sharp pain in your head.

“Woah, woah. Take it easy.” Chris mumbles as he helps you sit up. “Is that a good idea?”

“Probably not. But I didn’t yesterday, and I need to wash my hair.” You whisper, blinking to try and wake up fully..

“Do you want me to help?” He gently asks and you hum noncommittally. 

“Whilst I appreciate the thought, I don’t think I feel comfortable with you seeing me naked, let alone touching me naked.” You whisper, the mixture of pain and exhaustion making you too honest for your own good.

“We can wear bathers.” He murmurs and you look up to see that beautiful, genuine smile on his face.

“I- yeah. That would work.” You mumble, glad that the room was still dark and that he therefore couldn’t see you blushing.

“Shower or bath?” He asks, gently rubbing a soft circle on your hand with his thumb.

“Bath… Please.” You murmur as he smiles at you, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Do you want me to leave you to get changed whilst I run the bath?” You nod in response, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes and standing as he runs off.

10 minutes later, you walk into the bathroom, immediately surprised by the ambiance in the room.

“I put candles up so that the lighting wasn’t too bright.” Chris whispers from behind you, startling you.

You turn around, shocked to find him shirtless in swim trunks.

“Do you want me to wear a top?” He asks, stepping back.

“No, it’s fine. I just forget how buff you are.” You murmur, admiring his physique as he blushes.

“Oh hush, get in the bath.” He shushes as you giggle at his fluster.

You sit down in the bath, sighing at the warmth.

“Is the temperature good?” Chris asks from beside you.

You nod, humming contently as you feel your headache relax again.

“Okay, how are we going to do this?” He asks gently, as you sit there with your eyes closed.

“Can you just help me wash my hair?” You murmur, squinting your eyes open slightly.

“Yeah, of course. Where are your products?” He asks, looking around.

“Just there, would it be easier if you got in with me?” You ask gently, grateful for his decision with the lighting as you open your eyes.

He freezes, inwardly glad he chose warm lighting so his blush was less obvious.

“Are you okay with that?” He asks, distracting himself with gathering the products.

“Yeah.” You hum, trying to remain nonchalant about the intimacy of the situation.

“Okay.” He says as he places the items on the shelf next to the bath.

He then gently slides in behind you, and you situate yourself so you're sitting in between his legs.

“This okay?” He asks once the two of you are comfortable.

You nod, untrusting of your voice's ability to mask your fluster.

“Okay, so what do I have to do?” He asks, picking up the bottles from the floor.

You slowly guide him through each of the steps, explaining each part of the process.

“Then I do stuff after but I can do that myself.” You finish as he hums.

“You sure?” He asks, whispering so as to not aggravate your aching head. “I’m happy to help.”

“Uh, sure. If it’s not too much trouble.” You murmur, trying to ignore the odd fluttering of your heart.

“You��re never too much trouble.” He hums as he starts to lather the shampoo on your hair.

“Thank you.” You mutter, glad he was behind you and unable to see your flushed face.

“That better?” He murmurs after he washed the conditioner out of your hair.

You hum sleepily, the ambiance of the soft light of the candles and the gentle trickling of water combining with Chris’ gentle washing of your hair lulling you into a blissful state. 

“Don’t fall asleep just yet.” He whispers gently as he cradles you against his chest. “Almost done, then you can go to sleep.”

The gentleness in his tone makes your heart ache ever-so-slightly and the shift in positions rouses you from your trance.

“Okay.” You hum before moving to get out of the water.

“Wait, let me get out first.” Chris says, steadying you before he stands.

He wraps his towel around his waist before he carefully helps you exit the bath.

He gently wraps your towel around you before sitting you down on the stool next to the vanity.

“Now, how do I do this?” He asks once you're situated.

“Just a leave-in-conditioner. It’s in the bottom drawer.” You say, trying to ignore the chill biting at your legs as he leans down and grabs the container.

“This is how you always smell so nice!” He murmurs upon opening it, making you giggle.

“Do you remember how to do this?” You ask, looking up at him.

“Yep.” He responds before gently brushing the product through your hair.

“Okay done! Did I do it right?” He asks as he puts it away.

“Yes, you did.” You reply, giggling slightly.

“Great! Okay let’s get you back to your room.” He murmurs as helps you stand up.

Later, once the two of you have changed out of your pyjamas and you’re snuggled up in your bed, Chris comes to check on you.

“Need anything?” He asks, standing beside your bed.

“Uhh… I think I’m good, thanks.” You murmur as you slowly feel yourself getting sleepier.

“Okay, feel free to call me if you need anything.” He whispers as he presses a soft kiss to your forehead. As his lips gently brushed your forehead you feel your face warm with a deep flush, grateful to the shadows of the room for concealing it.

He began to walk towards the door, careful not to make too much noise.

“Wait.” You whisper as you hesitate, your heart pounding at the thought of asking for more from him.

He turns, looking concerned.

“You okay?” He asks warmly.

“Yeah, just uh…” You mumble, flustered.

“Can you hold me?” You ask in a whisper.

He simply smiles, moving towards the bed and slipping under the covers, gently wrapping his muscular arm around your waist, holding you tight.

“Always.” He whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your hair.

This is a work of fiction, based entirely on my personal perception of him, and does not reflect his actual character or actions.

ʚ✩ɞ taglist ʚ✩ɞ

@jennibahng @jchasseblog @itzkingbo @velvetmoonlght

[foxgl-ove]

i could write an essay on why wyll’s character is mistreated by the writers and developers of bg3, but i’d be afraid of putting more effort into his story than them.

[kurooh]

I’MA MAKE U SCREAM ★ S. GOJO & S. GETO

⊹₊˚. a series of unrelenting, mysterious phone calls late at night leads to you being sandwiched between two hot ghostface slashers who’ve got you fucking for your life.

warnings. 18+ content — mdni, fem! reader, ghostface! gojo & geto, threesome, knife play, landline phones, mentions of death, oral (f receiving), double penetration, anal/fingering, tongue piercings, pussy slapping, biting. 5.2K words whew (pls read anyway 🧎‍♀️)

xoxo, juno. happy halloween!! thank you to my dearest wolfy anon for beta reading <33 comment & rb if you enjoyed!!! 🎃

“hello?”

“why don’t you wanna talk with me?”

“who is this?” you roll your eyes, unimpressed by the cheery voice coming through the phone. “it’s like eleven at night, what do you want?”

“ya tell me your name, and i’ll tell ya mine,” that voice lilts into a teasing tone, words dripping with persuasive sweetness.

“nah, i’m heading to bed. nice talk.”

“aw, bedtime already? you’re not even gonna watch a movie before you sleep?” the question has your brows furrowing in aggravation, but you sigh, choosing to answer anyway.

“i didn’t have anything in mind,” the caller lets out a laugh, straight into your ear. “what, you’ve got a suggestion?”

“do you like scary movies?” and you can hear the smile in the caller’s voice; he’s amused, probably laughing with his friends over the prank call in the moments of muffled silence.

“i suppose so.”

“don’t you have a favorite? why not watch it?”

“well, i won’t be able to sleep,” you reply simply, twirling the phone cord between your fingers. “but the longer we talk, the more sleep i lose out on. so, have a good night!”

“wait!” the caller snaps, demanding as ever. the sudden outburst sends chills straight down your spine. “don’t hang up on me.”

“and why shouldn’t i?” the blatant defiance has the caller letting out a laugh that sounds rather menacing . . he clears his throat, seemingly returning to his more even tempered tone.

“we’re not done talking,” he says simply, sounding a little crackly through the phone. “so don’t hang up, you’ll—”

a rational person with an interest in talking would certainly call during the day, and only once or twice before quitting altogether to wait for a call back. an irrational person would have your house phones ringing off the hooks while you were in the shower, calling nonstop and then getting far too arrogant once you finally picked up. just as you slam the phone back down, it starts to ring again.

you decide to leave the room, figuring that the caller will tire himself out quickly, but he doesn’t. in the time that you left the phone to go to another room, there wasn’t a single beat of silence. furious, you race toward the phone, fingers sliding on the kitchen counter as you snatch it up.

“fuck you! listen to me, you’d better stop—”

“no, you listen to me,” the caller snarls, and the harshness of his voice has your heart kicking hard against your rib cage. something in your gut tells you that this isn’t just a talkative caller. “don’t fucking hang up on me again, got that?”

you recover some of your composure, goosebumps rising on your skin. the cool breeze blowing through a nearby window adds to the chilling feeling that’s washed over you in only a matter of seconds. “w-well, what do you want, then?”

“i wanna see your insides, dummy,” is the crazed response, and you can’t stop the way your face immediately twists in horror. a clicking sound is heard as the second phone in your house—the one upstairs—is picked up, and another person hops onto the call.

“now, now,” this new voice is smooth, immediately drawing your attention as you listen attentively through the phone. “that’s no way to talk, you’ll scare her silly.”

“what the fuck?” you ask aloud, although you hadn’t meant to. all you can think about is the fact that two weirdos have you almost . . cornered on the phone.

the crazy voice scoffs, ignoring your mumbling. “well, you heard her! trying to hang up and shit,” he clicks his tongue in disapproval before sighing. “anyway, where were we?”

you don’t even say anything, and the other voice exhales into the phone. “see, look at what you’ve gone and done now. our girl’s too scared to talk to us, isn’t she?”

“look, i-i’m just gonna go to bed. goodnight.”

“you’re not going anywhere, honey,” the calmer one of the two says, but this time his voice is much clearer, almost as if he’s standing beside you. you take a step backward, trying to shake off the weird feelings and relentless goosebumps spreading across your skin.

you might as well be wearing nothing.

the satin slip dress you were planning to sleep in is as thin as plastic wrap; you’ve backed up into someone’s strong chest and thanks to the thinness of your pajamas, you can feel each sharp ridge of muscle. the pecs are strong, firm to the touch, and the abs are hard enough to cut diamonds. fear races through your body, so overwhelming that your lips part to let out a scream—but the noise is muffled by a large palm that pulls you back, flush against the muscles. separated only by a few layers of clothing, you can feel the warmth of their body and the casual rise of their chest as they breathe. if you weren’t being silenced, this would be comforting, in a way.

“promise you won’t scream, baby?” that calm voice has a dangerous edge; you nod immediately, frantically, desperately — as you feel a few tears gather in your eyes. this . . does not look, feel, or sound good in any way imaginable. who even are these people? and why you? a seemingly normal thursday evening had gone entirely downhill, and you didn’t even know why.

“good girl,” the person hums, dropping their hand from the lower half of your face and instead replacing it with the sharp edge of a knife. “let’s head upstairs, shall we?” as you ascend the steps, the blade drops lower, until it hovers over the tender skin of your throat. you can’t even turn around and see who the person is, for fear of getting cut over the simple action.

“could i at least turn around?”

“what for?” he asks, nudging the bedroom door open. you’re met with the frightening sight of a person in robes lounging on your bed, against your pillows. they have a spooky, ghostly mask, but you know who it is the second their mouth opens.

“you took the knives out that quickly?” the figure clicks his tongue, raising a hand to his face to pull off the ghostface mask. so this is what this is—some kind of ridiculous scream roleplay . . but the feel of the knife and the way it gleams is too real. “what happened to playing around, suguru?”

“it’s—it’s you! from the phone.” you say, straining against the man behind you, who pulls the knife a few inches away from your throat.

“careful now, doll. you’ll hurt yourself.”

“if you let me go, maybe i’d—” the man on the bed sits up then, pulling off his mask. you can’t see who he is just yet, the shadow from his hood obscuring his face. in a moment, he grabs hold of your face with a gloved hand, fingers squeezing cruelly at your cheeks.

it’s utterly nasty, the way feelings of attraction twist in your stomach. heat rises to your cheeks and you swallow, looking into diamond blue eyes that have your heart fluttering despicably. how is it possible to even be focused on your grim reaper’s looks, almost entirely forgetting their intentions as you lose yourself in those eyes?

“cat got your tongue? i said i wanna see your insides and you didn’t even look fazed.”

beneath the robe, you can see the tips of snowy hair, along with a face that’s far too handsome to belong to some kind of murderer. you shake your head in disbelief, sucking in a breath. “uh . . huh? sorry, i didn’t hear you.”

he drops your face with an annoyed scoff, stepping back to plop down on your bed before fully pulling off his hood. “y’know what—suguru, you deal with her.”

the man behind you pushes you forward, and you awkwardly take a seat beside the sighing killer. suguru tugs off his mask and inspects the knife closely, running a gloved finger over the edge before nodding. “might as well use the knives on you. maybe you’ll hear us then?”

“what’re you—why’re you doing all this?” you ask, the words sputtering out of your mouth nervously. “is there any way i can convince you not to cut me open?”

suguru looks at his literal partner in crime, pushing his black bangs away from his eyes as he speaks. “oh? trying to cheat death, sweet thing?”

you shrug, casually flopping onto your back. the satiny fabric of your dress flips up, and you unintentionally give both of them a great view of your panties. now that they’re deliberating how to move forward with you, the fear of the situation has dissipated greatly. “i just wanna go to bed and live to see another day tomorrow. name the price for my life and i’ll pay it.”

“those are fighting words,” suguru remarks, “don’t you agree, satoru?”

satoru nods, eyes glued to the thin fabric covering what’s between your legs. his mind runs wild as he imagines what he and suguru could impose on you. they’re practically in sync—suguru looks over just as satoru looks up, the two of them sharing a knowing look.

“hmph. sit up and listen.” satoru nudges your thigh, and you do as he says, looking bored. the whole night has done one too many 180s, giving you the most severe case of whiplash in your life. you’d initially been annoyed, terrified, then mildly attracted, and now . . almost indifferent.

“you’ve got my full attention.”

“we’ll let you live, on one condition,” satoru raises a finger before you can object, while suguru’s eyes covertly sweep over your body. “think you could handle us at the same time?”

a proposition for a threesome is something you certainly did not see coming! you bite the inside of your cheek, willing yourself to maintain composure. suguru spices it up with a smirk, dragging that sharp knife of his along the edge of your jaw.

“you’ll have to fuck like your life depends on it.”

it does. tension weighs the air down, filling the room with a thickness even suguru’s knife couldn’t cut through. sweat beads along the skin of your spine and you exhale in defeat. being between these two would be hard—in all ways possible; but one mistake and they’d probably end up slitting your throat.

truthfully, you’re willing to risk it. most girls don’t usually cross paths with two men that are each extremely attractive and willing to share you between one another. you squeeze your thighs together, an action that doesn’t go unnoticed by either of them.

“y-yeah, okay. i’ll do it.”

“atta girl,” satoru praises, the corners of his eyes crinkling. a wicked smile finds its way onto his rosy lips, but you don’t back down, instead spreading your legs. you look between them, a silent invitation extended in one glance.

“lie back for us.”

“you were the one who told me to sit up—” perhaps the unnecessary snark isn’t a good idea, not with the way suguru eyes you warily.

satoru leans in hastily, connecting his lips with yours to effectively shut you up. his body barrels into yours, pushing you into suguru, who catches you and cages you against his strong chest. the knife is abandoned as he strokes his fingertips along the tender skin of your neck, sighing into your ear while satoru occupies your lips.

“so pretty. heh, you’re pretty every night.”

suguru’s touch has you letting out a moan that satoru eagerly swallows, his gloved hands roaming your body. however, he seems to remember he’s got gloves on; without pulling away, he snatches them off.

“her tits, suguru—play with her tits.”

the mumbled words are audible only to suguru, who complies with a chuckle. unlike satoru, he makes no move to do away with his gloves. you moan, his hands squeezing at your tits while his fingertips stroke over your nipples until they grow hard.

“s-suguru,” you mewl, pulling away for a moment to suck a breath into your deprived lungs, “keep touching me there—just like that.”

satoru’s palm comes down hard against the side of your thigh, and he grips your face, forcing you to look at him. “focus on me, got that? wouldn’t want him to stop, would you?”

you shake your head, and in a split second, satoru’s got your upper lip between his teeth. he bites down playfully; the impact makes you gasp, and he seizes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. arousal pools in your panties, and you fidget in your spot between them, hoping that you’ll finally get the attention you’ve been craving sooner rather than later. suguru’s tongue drags against your neck while he takes in the scent of your body wash from earlier’s shower. there’s a cool sensation coming from the center of his tongue—you can feel a firm ball of some kind.

it’s a little shameful, getting this hot and heavy from a simple kiss. only, his tongue rolls against yours, and any semblance of embarrassment melts away. suguru’s fingers pinch both of your nipples at the same time, sending shockwaves right to your pussy.

“fuck,” you sob into satoru’s mouth, practically lightheaded from how overwhelming it already is, as well as the lack of air. “i-i need more.”

suguru hums, continuing to toy with your hardened nipples. “already slutting yourself out for us, sweetheart? that was fast, wasn’t it?”

satoru finally draws back, a glossy string of spit connecting your lips to his. he doesn’t move just yet, savoring the moment like a piece of special candy—you’ve practically got hearts in your eyes, all hot and bothered because of him. well, suguru is a factor, but he didn’t put in nearly as much work as satoru.

“lie back for us, babe.” this time you don’t fight them on it, scooting off suguru so you can comfortably prop yourself up on the mountain of pillows.

“tsk. this dress ought to go.” suguru brandishes his knife, and cuts through the satin material of the slip as easily as a stick of butter.

“hey!” you snap, the remains of your dress sliding off to the sides of the bed like rags. “what about you two!? you can’t just cut up my clothes like that when neither of you are naked!”

satoru rolls his eyes, tossing your legs apart. meanwhile, suguru clearly isn’t done with that knife; he trails it along the slopes of your naked body, the edge of the blade sharpened in a way that has you gasping. he applies a little bit of pressure, and your skin splits like it would after a paper cut.

“a-are you cutting my skin open?” you ask incredulously. you know the answer, but for whatever reason, you don’t pull away from him.

“maybe,” he replies breezily. “‘s nothing deep. you can handle it, can’t you, honey?”

“would you look at that?” satoru wolf whistles, and heat rises to your cheeks as he gathers your legs together, tugging them up. the knife pauses at your collarbone as suguru leans backwards to take a look, and his eyebrows raise immediately.

“she’s fucking soaked.”

“put the knife down ‘n come give it a taste.”

satoru’s request is breathless, but effective. the knife falls onto the blankets, and for a moment you use your head to consider what might happen in the future—someone could sit on that thing, lie down on it. satoru’s tongue rips the thought out of your head and replaces the words that were on the tip of your tongue with a sweet moan of bliss. your clit throbs at the prospect of more, and their balmy puffs of breath fanning over you only arouse you further.

their faces press together, side by side as they start to eat your pussy in a way that immediately has your back arching and hips bucking. satoru focuses all his attention on your clit, flicking the tip of his tongue over it while suguru slurps up all of your slick. there it is again, that cool sensation—he’s got a tongue piercing. the moonlight shines through the flowy curtains, illuminating the killers in an almost angelic glow . . maybe they’re actually pussy killers.

“‘s like fucking candy,” satoru moans, tongue dipping down to gather up your slick. it bumps into suguru’s, and he only lets out a laugh that sends vibrations through your entire core. “sweetest pussy i’ve ever tasted, shit.”

the room fills with the lewd, nasty sounds of their slurping and licking as they devour your pussy together. you slip a finger between your teeth and bite down once one too many noises threaten to escape you, and suguru pulls back to land a smarting slap on your pussy.

“ah ah. do not try to go quiet on us.”

“sorry, ‘m sorry,” you stutter dumbly, mind and body reeling from the delicious sting of the slap.

“we want you screaming,” he emphasizes, spitting onto your cunt and watching as it flutters, the glob slipping down more rapidly due to the movement. “and you will be, by the end of all this. understand, doll?”

you nod hastily, and his eyes flick upwards to your face, the hardness in them a simple warning. “yeah, i understand.”

satoru’s drawing hearts and letters on your clit, each one making you shudder more than the last. each drag of his tongue makes him moan as he takes in more of your taste. beside him, suguru’s dips his tongue between your folds, the sensation nothing more than a tease. they plan to split you open on their cocks, and getting you desperate for it is only the first step of their plan.

“ngh, t-that’s so fucking good,” you cry, thighs quaking on either side of their heads. “please, i’m gonna cum.”

“give it to us,” satoru is the first to speak, his voice clear as it cuts through the lewd sounds in the air. he’s got one hand on the side of your thigh, holding you open just for them. “on our tongues, like a good girl.”

satoru’s ministrations on your clit grow more insistent; he’s working to pull your orgasm from you, while suguru continues to slurp at your messy pussy, his eyes falling shut. a familiar and overwhelming sensation coils in your tummy; it’s one that has your hands flying to both suguru and satoru’s heads, fingers finding purchase in their hair.

“i—i think ‘m gonna cum,” you cry, back arching off the bed while your hips jolt forward into their faces. after hearing the first word of your delirious warning, satoru replaced his tongue with his finger and moved beside suguru, the two of them slurping all your cunt has to offer. to them, it’s like drinking ambrosia.

you’re pulling hard at their hair, only encouraging them to groan against you. suguru speaks, eyes rolling back from just a little hair pulling. but it makes sense, with hair like that. of course his scalp is very sensitive.

“cover us in your cum, baby.”

obedient and right on time, your pussy gushes, hole fluttering around nothing while your clit throbs beneath satoru’s finger. the intense orgasm has left you twitching from the aftershocks, gasping for breath, and overly sensitive. of course, satoru and suguru take advantage of the aforementioned sensitivity with smirks on their faces.

“no, wait, i-i just came,” is all you can sob, your hands smacked away once you try to tug them off your aching cunt. “satoruuu, suguruuu.”

suguru only laughs, mimicking your tone with a roll of his eyes. “aw, babyyy. that’s too bad, isn’t it?”

with how sensitive you are, it’s not hard for them to drag a second orgasm out of you. this time, a few tears cascade down your cheeks as you fall over the edge with a pitched cry. satoru spanks your still twitching cunt and laughs at the way you gasp and recoil, legs still trembling.

“suguru, whatcha think? you wanna take her mouth ‘n i’ll fuck her pussy?”

“that’s far too considerate, satoru.” he shakes his head, talking about you as if you’re not in front of them. “c’mon,” suguru purrs, gesturing for you to get up as he slips off his robe and boxers. “lie on top of me.”

you can’t help but ogle, a little starstruck by his body and the thrill of everything. he sticks out his tongue playfully when he notices you staring, the metal ball in his tongue gleaming. his abs flex and his cock bobs as he lays down on your bed, beckoning you over with a gloved finger. satoru gulps, panting softly at the sight. following his best friend’s lead, he slips off his matching clothing and mounts the bed, which sinks under his weight with a creak. part of you wonders if the bed frame will give out by the end of this.

“hand me the lube,” suguru grunts, catching the small bottle in his larger hand. the liquid is cool, even through the leather of his gloves. he rubs his fingers together to warm it up a little for you. his fingertips prod at the tight ring of your asshole, and you let out a squeak of surprise.

“c’mon. relax for me, doll.”

you take a breath, body sweltering with arousal. this is certainly new for you, but you don’t complain—and anyway, the slight coolness of the lube feels good against your hot skin. satoru bites down on his lower lip as he watches his best friend prep you to take both of their cocks at the same time. something wicked has the corners of his lips curling up into a smile as he pictures you screaming for them.

likely picturing the same thing, suguru tongues at your jaw, kissing the tender skin wetly before nipping hard. you can only cry out, his lips serving as a simple distraction while his fingers push inside and stretch you out.

you gasp, and he feels you squeeze down hard on his fingers, hips jerking away. “come now, don’t run from it,” suguru coos, twisting his body beneath you to angle you the right way again. he ignores your whining, and satoru silently strokes his cock to the sight. “i know, i know. just breathe for me, ‘kay?”

slowly, your body accommodates the new stretch without any more sting or discomfort. in fact, your hips begin to rock into his fingers, chasing them when he starts to pull out.

“i-i think she’s ready, suguru,” satoru finally speaks up, clearing his throat. his voice is a little choked, and you can clearly see the flush on his cheeks even in the dark. “for both of us.”

“you hear that, honey?” his warm breath fans over the shell of your ear, making you shudder against him. “let’s see who can make you scream the loudest—me or satoru.”

“as if,” the man in question huffs, pushing your thigh to the side and looking over your dripping pussy with an obvious hunger. “fuck, baby. i’m gonna ruin you.”

with that, satoru grasps his cock and guides it inside your needy cunt. suguru does the same, pushing his length into your ass. the three of you moan collectively, a harmony if ever there was one. you sob, tears burning at the corners of your eyes from the intensity of the stretch.

satoru grits his teeth and grips your hips for support, then pushes all the way inside you. he bottoms out easily, his cock sliding against suguru’s, separated only by a thin layer of tissue. so thin that they can feel the shape of one another’s cocks through you.

“fuckin’—shittt, oh my god,” satoru’s easily overwhelmed, heart pounding in his ears while sweat covers his entire body in a sticky sheen.

suguru bites your neck hard, but the pain registers as pleasure despite the fact that he tastes a few irony drops of blood on his tongue.

“do either of you plan to move?” you complain, lips parting in an ‘o’ shape around a whiny moan. “or are we just gonna sit here—”

“shut the fuck up,” suguru groans, clapping a dry and gloved hand over your tits before squeezing them. “we’ll move when we fucking feel like it.”

waves of almost euphoria wash over your entire body, leaving you breathless and panting. when you’d first met these two, you’d been sharp and aware of your surroundings, but now everything is hazy and your body burns as though you have a fever.

the bed creaks dangerously as satoru jumps into action, slowly rocking his hips into yours with a few choked, wanton moans. before long, he’s more confident, fucking into you with a tight grip on your skin and at an invigorated pace. you’re so hot and oh so tight—satoru fucking loves it—you feel perfect. he loves the way you squirm on top of his best friend, hips canting forward eagerly to meet his. the evidence of how good he’s making you feel is painted all over your face, apparent in the wobble of your lower lip and the tears in your eyes.

you hear a sigh from behind you. “can’t lose the bet,” suguru’s voice is laced with faux sympathy. it takes him a few seconds, but he finally starts moving, groaning in approval at the shake of your body and gasping, ragged breaths.

above you, sweat rolls down satoru’s face, the snowy tips of his hair sticking to his forehead while others fall in front of his eyes. “y-you like it like this, baby?” the question is rhetorical, but your whimpering tells him everything he needs to know. the corners of his lips curl into a smile that’s soon wiped away by overwhelming pleasure. “you’re taking us so fuckin’ well, sweetheart . . driving me insane, goddamn.”

“i second that,” the metal ball of suguru’s piercing clicks as he sweeps his tongue over his teeth, panting hard into your ear. “really, baby . . feel like the luckiest fuckin’ guy in the world right now, heh.”

as if you’re not the luckiest girl—being sandwiched between these two is a dream you didn’t even know you had. inside you, their cocks throb against one another, dragging in and out of your holes ruthlessly. the tempo only speeds up, becoming too much too quickly.

you nudge a weak, clammy hand against satoru’s waist, arching your back on top of suguru and nearly nailing him in the face with a reverse headbutt. before the latter can say anything, satoru snatches your hand and intertwines your fingers with his, then pins it down to the bed. he advances forward, his chest now against yours to keep you still.

“ah ah,” he tuts, his nipples hard as they press against yours, “move your damn hand, baby. this is what you wanted, remember?”

“i certainly do,” suguru titters, nipping at your earlobe. “don’t be like that. you can take it, can’t you?”

his words are convincing; he’s got you nodding in acceptance. he’s right, of course. this is what you wanted earlier—you’ve been taking both of their cocks so fucking well. just as you tell yourself you’ll make it through this, satoru’s fingers ghost along the soft skin of your stomach. despite the exhaustion that’s setting into his body, his hips don’t even stutter as he focuses on your swollen clit.

“oh . . oh my god,” the words are torn from your throat, which only grows more sore with all the noise you can’t seem to stop making. a familiar shakiness settles in your voice, and you’re fighting to keep the breath in your lungs, but it escapes you far too easily. “i’m-‘m gonna cum for you, ‘m—”

as you hurtle closer to all encompassing euphoria, the sounds of skin slapping against skin fade out and grow foggy. yet, you manage to hear their voices eagerly spurring you on, the two of them in the same boat as you.

“yeah, ‘s right. fuckin’ cum for us, baby.” satoru’s own orgasm creeps up on him, his head tipping back as your pussy starts to flutter around his cock. of course, suguru can feel the throbbing of his best friend’s cock and the quavering of your needy pussy. he releases your tits, seeing the bruising he’s left before squeezing his eyes shut in concentration.

“ya heard him, honey,” he utters after a long groan, his voice low and husky. “take all of our fucking cum.” you gasp out, nodding your head frantically as you teeter over the edge.

everything happens fast, and all at the same time. satoru cums inside you, his broad shoulders shaking as he rides it out while your pussy practically milks him for more. your cunt spasms, hips jerking upwards from the intensity of it. the movement pushes out suguru, his cum leaking out of your bruised ass and spilling in white puddles on his pelvis.

satoru looks down, biting down on his lower lip as he pulls his cock from you. this is quite the reward, seeing cum pour from both of your spent and twitching holes. your shuddering, sweltering body finally begins to cool after what feels like hours. suguru’s exhausted, but he kindly lifts you and lays you down on the bed beside him. satoru flops down beside you with a heaving sigh, only to lay on the knife from earlier.

“ow, fuck!” he jolts, sitting up and tugging the sharp blade from where it’s tangled in the sheets. he unceremoniously hurls it to the floor, laying back down with a vengeful huff.

you’re too tired to laugh, but a small smile plays on your lips. “do you still wanna kill me?”

“not right now,” suguru throws an arm over his face, gesturing in the direction of the floor. “the knife’s down there, anyway.”

you sit up, craning your neck to take a look. from what you can see, the floor is littered with their dark costumes and two masks, the knife completely out of sight. “i don’t see it.”

“hm, remember we talked about making you scream for us?” satoru speaks up, and in your dizzy haze, you don’t notice that glint in his eyes.

“uh, yeah, i think so? i thought you already did.”

“don’t you watch scary movies?” suguru scoffs, looking at you from beneath his forearm. “you should know what happens next.”

you laugh, rolling your eyes. “yeah, whatever. what happens next, you kill me? very funny. let me convince you again,” and you clear your throat. “no, please don’t kill me, mr. ghostface! i wanna be in the sequel!”

satoru simply shakes his head, and the knife plunges into your back. with a gasp, you sputter out a few garbled words, blood pouring down your bare back as you fall backwards onto the bed. you writhe on the mussed sheets, blood spilling from your lips and trickling down your chin in vermillion rivulets. beside you, the blood covered suguru and satoru let you struggle aimlessly until your body stills; then they slip their masks on again . .

“andddd cut!” the director jumps from his seat with proud claps, and the production assistants rush in from every direction to help clean up the mess.

“satoru, fuck! that knife was so sharp,” you sit up, sending a glare his way as you wipe the fake blood off your skin. despite being a fake knife, the shiny plastic point was rather jagged.

“excellent performances, the three of you! our halloween special is sure to be a hit!” the director is gushing as he praises the three of you.

“yeah, yeah,” suguru says, his cheeks flushed a rosy pink. “i’ve gotta take a shower. seriously, the corn syrup is so fucking sticky.”

[reignpage]

College student!Sukuna

9:35am: what's the rush?

warnings: 18+ mdni, possessiveness, masturbation, groping, coercion, panty sniffing/fucking, threats, teasing, edging, exhibitionism, established relationship

college student!sukuna is not a morning person. your boyfriend never has been; not even when he was just that guy who was a friend of a friend. and he reminds you of this fact every time you’re snapped from deep sleep by that obnoxious alarm clock. 

for reasons that elude you, that shrill beep beep beep never wakes him up. but the slightest movement from you, as you drag your drowsy body from the bed, has his arm darting across and wrapping itself around your waist, before you’re being pulled to his side. 

mornings are always a struggle with college student!sukuna who seems to have personal beef with the sun. his classes are all in the afternoon, he goes to the gym at night, and his refusal to attend any and all basketball training in the mornings led to training being moved to a time convenient to him. that’s how it works with your pink-haired boyfriend.

what he wants, he gets. 

and right now, what he wants is to sink his cock into you.

you’re trying to leave, gulping down as much coffee as you can whilst you pack your backpack and slip on your shoes, but college student!sukuna is making it so very difficult for you. 

“‘kunaaaa,” you whined, “i’m gonna be late. again.”

college student!sukuna has draped himself over you, clad only in black boxers, bare torso pressing warmth into your back, he nestles his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your shampoo. you know what this meant; the man is only ever touchy and pathetic when he’s horny. to an outsider, the view might be innocent — a cuddly boyfriend loving up on his beloved girlfriend before she leaves. sharing sweet hugs and kisses in the morning and wishing you well. 

but that isn’t how college student!sukuna rolls. never has been. he isn’t ‘sappy’ (his words), isn’t a hormonal teenager who can’t regulate his urges —not anymore — and he certainly isn’t so pussy-whipped he’d ever beg for time and attention. he’s a big boy, after all. 

that’s what he wants you to think.

well, you know better. the only thing big about him is his body, tall and muscular with the biggest cock you’ve ever had the pleasure of being completely dominated by. 

and ccollege student!sukuna is grinding said cock into your ass, ignoring your hissing and cursing. he’s making you spill coffee over yourself with the way he’s wrapping his arms around your body like unforgiving vines, tightening and loosening in time with the pulsing between your legs, groping and pinching where ever he pleases.

he’s so good at the art of persuasion. you hate that you can’t resist him and you hate even more, practically loathe, that he knows that. 

“stay, baby, fuck that dumbass class. y’ hate that professor anyways.”

you stifle a moan when his large hand paws at your tit, kneading just how you like it, firm but gentle, unforgiving but loving. that’s how it always is with college student!sukuna. he fucks hard, fast and rough. he uses, dominates, and takes and takes for his own pleasure, finding a sick satisfaction in seeing you at your absolute weakest. 

college student!sukuna is never satisfied with a quickie, he isn’t crude; he views sex as an art form, places it on a higher plane, worships it as his own religion. he takes his time pushing you to the very edge and dragging you back till you’re out of breath, heaving for air, and fumbling for grip. doesn’t stop until your eyes are perpetually rolled back, till his back is stinging from your claw marks, and until everything is downright filthy and obscene.

and sometimes, when he’s feeling particularly sadistic, he takes you both further. 

that’s precisely why you are wriggling your way out of his grip and fixing him with an unyielding glare. you can’t afford to miss any more classes and especially not because of dick (even if that dick is really really good, and definitely not when that dick is a cocky piece of shit). 

so, you stand your ground and ignore the warmth pooling in your panties. college student!sukuna is glaring right back, muscles in that tattooed torso rippling as he flexes like he’s torn between listening to you or to his dick. and when he throws a tsk at you, you know he’s doing the former. which shocks you to the point you’re stuttering. 

wow, he’s actually behaving. 

maybe it’s cause he sees that determination in your eyes, understands your passion for academia, and respects your ambitions. maybe it’s that very spirit that pulled, and continues to pull, him to you. that thought makes your heart flutter. he’s being such a good boy, and good boys must be rewarded, right?

college student!sukuna is boring a hole in the ceiling with his hatred for the education system and he’s muttering a sarcastic ‘see ya later’ when his vision is suddenly obscured and the most tantalising scent overwhelms him. it’s familiar and addictive, the kind of scent he had spent months wishing he could bottle. 

you had thrown your panties at him. 

“this shit gets you off, right?”

giggling at how he’s pressing that panty closer to his nose with one hand and rubbing a palm up and down his clothed cock without so much as another glance at your retreating form, you hike your bag over your shoulder and open the door. and before you leave, you can’t help but push your luck even more.

“be a good little puppy and lick it clean, ‘kay, ‘kunaaa?”

you know by the ‘fuck you’ that follows you out, and the deep groan echoing into the hallway, that college student!sukuna is gonna make you eat your words later. but you allow a sense of victory to carry you to class, and encourage that feeling to bloom when, as soon as you sit down, you receive a picture of ripped up panties painted with his promise for revenge and a text comes not even a second later. 

“you be a good little puppy and lick this clean.”

[suguann]

There comes a point where Simon finally admits that he hates your new boyfriend—not that he’s liked any of your past relationships over the years, but this one he’s more vocal about—with a name not worth remembering. Matt? Martin?

He’d stopped trying after his first week back from work.

“I don’t fucking trust him,” he says one night while at the pub right under your apartment; it’s become a weekly ritual of sorts when he’s on leave ever since meeting you there on Soap’s birthday several years back. 

“You say that about every guy I have you meet,” you tell him in that know-it-all voice that you always use with him. “You hardly even know him, and his name’s Marcus, by the way. It wouldn’t kill you to use it.”

He snorts. “Love, the bloke would put his cock in anyone with tits and a warm cunt.”

“He wouldn’t,” your voice is soft because maybe you already know.

He would.

You’re so fucking oblivious that you don’t even realize this, but there’s nothing except stars in your eyes whenever you look at (or even talk about) the Naval officer who thinks he’s some bigshot because he can fly a plane. 

Even now, at your boyfriend’s promotion after-party in some back alley nightclub, he’s hardly talked to you or offered to get you a drink. You’re always too nervous to order one by yourself, and only Simon—tall and imposing standing beside you—could have the grumpiest bartender reach for the blender to make a blended cocktail. 

When he comes back with your drink—too big fingers unfolding the tiny umbrella for you—he watches your boyfriend (Marcus) flirt with a girl in a tight leather dress on the other side of the room. It’s that moment that he decides he’s tired of you giving your attention to someone who doesn’t deserve it, tired of you lying belly up for men who only want to sink their teeth into you and leave once they’ve had their fill. 

He likes to think he’s a pretty good friend—opening your eyes to something better is a job he takes rather seriously.

“It’s just a bit of fun,” he says after coming back with your third margarita, a small amount of frothy liquid sloshing over the side when he sets it down in front of you. “It’s okay to want it.”

You bite your lip, eyes dropping down to where he’s patting his thigh. “Just fun?”

“Yes, love.” He smiles. “Just fun.”

Let me.

Whether you’re tipsier than he thought or he’s just really persuasive, it’s easy to get you crawling into his lap in the corner of the cracked leather booth. His hands wander the span of your smooth thighs where your short skirt doesn’t reach, and he muffles a groan in your shoulder when you start squirming against the tent in his jeans.

You say his name like a warning when his hands find their way under your skirt, yet you’re biting back a moan and don’t tell him to stop.

Simon undoes his jeans and shifts them down before pushing up the back of your skirt and adjusting your hips to watch the tip of his dick slide between the covered cleft of your ass. Nobody in the room can see what the both of you are doing with your skirt fanning around his lap, but someone could if they were truly looking, and that has him tugging your panties to the side so he can feel you.

"Your boyfriend is too stupid to realize you're sitting here riding my lap. What do you think he'd say if he saw you like this?"

 “W-wait, Simon!” you squeak. “What if he sees—”

He’s almost tempted to roll his eyes at your blind devotion—I’ll deal with it—dealing with it would be him making sure the prick never tries talking to you again.

Then, his fingers, like iron at your hips, jerk you back to impale you on his cock. "Fuck," he says, voice trembling around the edges.

“O-oh! It’s too—ah—too big!”

He wraps a hand around the slender slope of your throat, fingers digging into vulnerable flesh as he pulls you back until his lips are at your ear, nose pressing into the soft skin of your cheek. “Come on, love. I know you can take the whole thing. Right inside this tight cunt.”

Simon thrusts into you shallowly, just the tip going in and out, and you whine, little fingers scrabbling at his wrist—gasping and shivering and bucking in the trap of his arms.

A smirk curls at the edges of his mouth when he finally bottoms out in your hot-wet cunt for your boyfriend to see from the other side of the room. He'd laugh at how his jaw drops, but he can only manage little choked intakes of air at the feel of you wrapped so tightly around him.

“Squeeze my cock for me—fuck, there you go.” He presses a kiss below your ear and reaches down to pet your soaked clit with his thumb. Feels the moment you realize that your boyfriend is watching when you tense up.

“I’ll deal with it,” he says again and again until you’re melting into him, thighs trembling around his. “Promise. I promise…”

I apologize if you see this again! I was trying to edit it, and it wouldn't format right with the gif. You can find part two here.

masterlist

[anantaru]

⚝ DAY 2 — POWER IMBALANCE

kinktober 2024. — masterlist | ao3

— including. — blade, jing yuan, aventurine

— warnings. — fem! reader, power imbalance, oral (fem! receiving), toxic & manipulation, hard syx, dom/sub

⚝ — BLADE

blade feels to you like a storm, his grip on you endlessly overwhelming yet not because he's forcing it on you, no, but because his dependence on you was suffocating.

the stellaron hunter was dangerous, you were very much aware of it, although never pondering on the fact that you were playing with fire here.

his cock slides in between your folds before slipping to your hole, right then, you can feel the hot push of his tip, slow at first, but persistent, burning and stretching you. blade opens you up as you clutch at his shoulders each time, you're certain you can take him, you can't— it won't fit—such always crosses your mind but, you see, your skin was burning and hungry, submitting to him, to his cock sliding in fully— so smooth on your walls, thick inside, searing.

blade clings to you like you’re the only thing tethering him to sanity, and well— maybe you were, he certainly looks at you with an intensity that borders on desperation, a string he needed to hold on to if he wanted to keep at least a little bit of humanity inside himself or else, he’d fall apart.

"you ground me," he murmurs, voice low, his hand searching for your own as he grips it a little too tightly— his neediness haunting as he slumps forward, still thrusting hungry shoves of his cock into you as the rhythm changes just a little, but the pressure was increasing, becoming more meaningful.

in this rare moments, the way his hands tremble slightly when he brushes your hair behind your ear, there’s a tenderness, yes, but you cannot shake off the feeling of being scared of him— were his words the truth? did he mean what he said? would he hurt you in the end or are you really the one to put a light in his dark, twisted world?

⚝ — JING YUAN

jing yuan was always in control, his charm making each and every friend or foe bend to his will effortlessly— and well, you’re no exception. 

frankly, he's used to people following his lead without question, without turning on their own brains, his words were so fittingly persuasive that you barely even notice when you started agreeing with everything he said.

you whine out a breathy, "fuck, more—" as he laps at your clit, the vibrations of his hums and groans making you arch your back into him— you're so sensitive, jing yuan makes you feel all of it with his tongue, all the nerves down there and how muscle slurped and licked a stripe along your slit to tease you, shamelessly moaning against your pussy right after.

"i’m only looking out for you," he lazily mumbles into your cunt, "I know what's ugh—, what's best for you," his fucked out grin disarms you completely as you look down, admiring the view of his hands, big hands, clutching at your trembling thighs before he gives your stomach an anticipatory twist.

he's not forceful though, don't misunderstand, yeah? because simply, jing yuan doesn’t need to be, his self assured confidence made it feel like any resistance would be literally ridiculous. 

after all, his charisma pulls you in, his beauty and face being chocolate box pretty, ethereal and powerful, leaving you wanting to please him too, so badly yeah, to stay on his good side.

⚝ — AVENTURINE

from the outside, aventurine was unable to be read— and even once you got close to him, you found yourself having more difficulties reading him.

his standards were impossibly high, that's for sure, and he never hesitates to point out when you fall short. for some reason he critiques everything you do, from the way you handle the tasks he's given you to your smallest habits, never failing in exhaustedly rolling his eyes with an edge of frustration.

however, wasn't it just amazing how he was always there to clean up the "mess" you made in getting all the tasks wrong, or anything really.

something unmistakable random could happen in your life, even just a favorite item you suddenly lost and aventurine would always be there to help you— like a white knight.

of course, you cannot question him on anything, he was your superior and losing your job would be the last thing you wanted, next to losing the little relationship you've built over the last couple of months with him.

you feels it in your legs, your stomach, your hands, your soul when he touches you— pleasures you.

it's the desire overtaking you first, making you give yourself up entirely to the harsh rhythm of his hips displaying no mercy. aventurine hisses as you squeeze him, the faintness in his head almost making him swoon as your leg tremble and his cock throbs hard in you, the tremulous thrill inside your belly building to a merciless dance.

"i’ll be here, buried right here—" he hums and grinds his hips, his fingers drawing a line on your stomach, up and down, "feel that? you feel me there?"

"not that you, fuck— deserve it," he grunts, cupping your cheeks and brushing a thumb over your lips, "you made so many mistakes today," he breathes while staring down at his cock splitting your puffy cunt.

he adds, "you should be thankful i was there,"

an embarrassed, little sorry was all you managed to get out in return and ugh— the friction of him rubbing against your walls felt absolutely sickening, like you're about to cum and scream any second now.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[defmaybe]

Someone in the Crowd

12 Days of Christmas: Day 12, January 5th, 2025

ITZY’s Lee Chaeryeong & Shin Ryujin x Male Reader

10.1k words

Christmas Masterlist

A/N: The work itself is going to be a little confusing because of the frequent perspective shift, hope you enjoy it! Also, thanks for the support during the last twelve days!

—

Another Day Of Sun

“So, Yeji,” Ryujin lets the last words trail off in the air. She’s twisting her ankles in nervousness. “I’d like to ask you something~”

Yeji doesn’t look up from her Percy Jackson and The Titan’s Curse. “What is it, Ryu?”

Ryujin giggles. She can do this. “You know you’ve always been my role model in a lot of things, being the strong and fierce leader you are~”

“Yeah, sure, strong and fierce.” Yeji pulls up an air quote, clearly amused by her friend’s sudden compliment.

“Yes, I love you, Yeji,” Ryujin sulks, putting her hands on Yeji’s shoulder. Yeji’s walls are crumbling.

“I love you too, Ryu,” Yeji says, without looking into Ryujin’s eyes. She’s still focused on her book. It’s probably the fun part. She seems to be in the middle of the book, though, not sure what’s so fun about that. Ryujin is more of a romance type than a fantasy one.

Ryujin giggles again. “Hehe, so, as I’ve said, I’d like to ask you for something.”

Yeji clenches her brows a little, but her eyes are still on the book. She flips it to another page. “For something?”

Ryujin’s smile is so bright it hurts. She’s definitely going to get this. Yeji’s giving in to her! “Tonight–”

Yeji suddenly closes her book, and Ryujin’s gleeful expression collapses. Fuck. Yeji didn’t even mark the page she was reading on!

Ryujin is definitely not going to get this.

“Tonight?”

—

Chaeryeong is waiting in her room, kicking her feet in a burning anticipation. Will she have to stay here tonight?

The US tour has been, to say the least, draining for the girls. Yuna is still asleep at two in the afternoon after last night’s show, while Jisu is now throwing profanities into her microphone to her Helldivers' teammates. Chaeryeong and Ryujin, on the other hand, have been planning to go somewhere on their last night in the US. They just have to ask for Yeji’s permission first.

She really needs this, and all she hears are faint mumbles from Ryujin and Yeji talking. Her heart is beating fast.

She really needs this, and it’s killing her.

She really needs this.

—

“Y–Yeah, t–tonight,” Ryujin stutters. Her face turns pale from fear. Is Yeji going to scold her?

“It’s not safe, Ryu. Do you know what can happen here?” Yeji’s expression is nothing but concern, caring for her friend’s well-being. Ryujin knows this, but the blazing fire inside her tells her to keep going.

“Yeji, please, I’m so tired from the tour. I really need this!” Ryujin argues, but it proves fruitless, as Yeji rolls her eyes.

“I’m sorry, but you can’t, Ryujin.” Yeji uses her full name. She’s serious about this. She throws the book onto her bed with a thud.

“But–”

“Nothing’s going to change my mind. Try,” says Yeji, her posture inviting Ryujin to bring up an argument.

She has already made up her mind. It’s over.

“F–Fine, Yeji,” and Ryujin walks away, heart full of disappointment.

—

Chaeryeong watches Ryujin walking into the living area, crestfallen. Oh, it was no for an answer.

“Is everything okay, Ryu?” she asks. 

“She said no,” Ryujin answers, still looking down on the floor despondently.

Poor Ryujin, she’s so bad at persuasion.

“I’ll talk to her.”

—

“Yeji,” Chaeryeong says.

Yeji is back to her Percy Jackson and The Titan’s Curse. It’s probably the fun part. She seems to be in the middle of the book, though, not sure what’s so fun about that. Chaeryeong is more of a mystery type than a fantasy one.

She looks up from her book, adjusting her glass a bit. “Same thing?” God, she just read Chaeryeong so damn easily.

Chaeryeong sighs, walking towards the bed before sitting down. The bed creaks a little. “You know, Ryu has given her all for this tour. It’s normal that she’d need some relief. You understand how our lives go, right?”

Yeji sighs. Her expression softens. “I’m sorry, Chae. It’s just not safe out there! I can’t let you guys risk your lives just for a night out. What if you get abducted? What if someone recognizes you?”

“We’ll be careful, Yeji. I can assure you of that.” Chaeryeong pleads, putting her hand on Yeji’s. Chaeryeong has nothing but her promise.

Yeji sighs again. She’ll probably see their effort through the tour. They deserve this.

“Fine, Chae. Be careful, alright?” Yeji plants a kiss on Chaeryeong’s forehead. “Have your pepper sprays ready. Have our numbers on the speed dial.”

Chaeryeong beams. She’s going to have a lot of fun with Ryujin tonight. “Thanks, Yeji.”

—

“So, for the first week’s assignment, just give me anything, alright? Just give me anything you got.”

The professor’s words echo inside your head.

Well, what’s it going to be?

It has been the question you’ve been asking yourself since last Monday, and it’s Sunday now. You’ve tried picking the ones from your Japan trip years ago, but none of them looks good enough. You’ve gone to the Statue of Liberty. You’ve gone to Central Park. You’ve gone to the Brooklyn Bridge. None seemed to work.

Should I pick something from my home? No, that’s too cliché. Should I pick someone? That’s even worse. Everyone’s going to laugh at you.

So, here you are, in a bar at 6 PM, venting your struggle to your bartender uncle in a nightclub—under this eye mask the bodyguards insisted you wear.

You just can’t find a photo to hand in for the first assignment.

—

“Is there any bar you’d recommend to us, mister driver?”

The young driver has had his mouth opened wide for at least a few minutes now, unable to find a voice in his throat. Ryujin has to ask for the third time, and he’s still in shock to see his idols in the back of his seats.

“Mister driver?” Ryujin asks again. Her patience is running thin. Is her presence that shocking to someone?

“Let’s just open Google Maps and pick some random bar, Ryu,” Chaeryeong says.

“W–Wait,” the driver finally says something. “I know a place. I–It’s pretty private.”

Ryujin smirks at the response, and it sounds like a nice place to be tonight. “Take us there, mister driver.”

—

The night wears on, and people are filling the club. You’ve been looking at the photos on your phone for three hours now, and you just can’t seem to find the perfect photo for tomorrow.

The techno music shakes your body, sounds like Reznor and Ross. The colored lights get into your eyes sometimes, but they’re having less effect than they should’ve been. You’re still concentrating on your device. Some people have even bumped into you, but only an apology and your eyes are back at your phone.

“Anything yet, tiger?” your uncle asks, shaking his bartender thing you’ve never cared to learn its name. It kind of works as a percussion instrument.

“Nothing as always,” you reply with slight disdain. You’re going to be doomed when the sun rises.

He laughs, pouring the contents inside his percussion into a cocktail glass. “Try going out there and dancing! Perhaps you’ll find an inspiration~”

You smile softly back at him, but dancing really is not your thing. “I’m not really good at it, uncle. I’ll have to pass.” You take a sip of your Long Island Iced Tea.

He pulls your glass back, staring into your eyes with an encouraging smile. “Look, I’m not going to let your ass sit here being all hopeless like that. Get out there and dance!” he orders, smiling.

You sigh, giving in to his demand. “Fine.”

“Get someone back to your place too if you can!” your uncle says with a smirk before you walk away into the raving crowd.

—

“Thanks, mister driver,” Ryujin says before handing back the freshly signed Crazy in Love album to him. He’s shaking with excitement.

Ryujin and Chaeryeong get out of the taxi to a normal-looking nightclub. Two muscular bodyguards are standing beside the door. Damn, they look scary.

“IDs please,” one of the bodyguards says sternly, and both Ryujin and Chaeryeong comply immediately, showing their cards.

The bodyguards examine the IDs carefully, making sure that the women are of age. The air thickens, and Ryujin finds her limbs freezing up. Are they going to be recognized? Are they going to be denied from getting inside? 

After a while, they finally nod in agreement and give the IDs back to her. Ryujin lets go of the breath that she doesn’t know she has been holding.

“Here are your masks. Enjoy the trip!” the other bodyguard says, winking at them with a smile. The tension drops. He hands two fancy-looking eye masks to the women.

He probably knows her and Chae.

—

Someone in the Crowd

Fuck, how can Ryujin hear her in a place like this?

The EDM music blares through the club. The colorful lights shine onto them. Chaeryeong scans over the club to find a quiet corner to avoid recognition. They still have to be cautious, even with a mask on. Sadly, there’s none, leaving them with only two options: leaving, or trying to blend in with the crowd.

Chaeryeong weighs the choices. The first one leaves her despondent, while the second one contains the risk of getting exposed by Dispatch by tomorrow morning.

This is hard.

But before she can decide, Ryujin drags her into the lively pack of people.

“We deserve this!” she shouts, pulling Chaeryeong’s hand into the crowd.

Chaeryeong feels unsure. She needs this, of course, but the fear of uncertainty lingers, and she just can’t let it go.

“Really?”

“Don’t live to regret this, Chae! We only live once!” Ryujin shouts.

That alone seems to make sense to Chaeryeong.

—

You aren’t sure what moves you are making. They probably look funny. God, you’re embarrassing yourself.

The bass vibrates the air around you and the crowd. You find yourself in the middle of the club, seeing people grinding on each other (even one another can be seen beside you, you swear). You start to feel the heat growing in your pants at the sight. If someone would be beside you right now.

The DJ announces something you can’t quite make out. The crowd roars in rejoice as you’re bored to death. Suddenly, the music changes to ITZY’s Wannabe. Holy shit, you recognize this. You can dance to it, at least a little.

Jansorineun stop it

People start to do Shin Ryujin’s iconic shoulder dance beside you, and you can’t help but join in. Her high-pitched singing voice fills the air with energy, and it flows through you so damn freely, injecting the missing liveliness into you. It’s giving you the life you’ve been missing for the last three hours.

Araseo halge

And that’s the first time you’re having fun tonight.

—

They’re singing their song?

Chaeryeong looks over at Ryujin to see her dancing to it, and she can’t help but follow her friend’s iconic move, smiling. She looks around to see the people also imitating the move. Damn, Ryujin must be so happy.

As the song goes on, Ryujin and Chaeryeong are laughing and dancing joyfully. People are singing and moving to their song! She finds herself beaming uncontrollably to see her efforts not going to waste. It’s like there’s a spotlight shining on them, and that couldn’t make her happier.

I wanna be me, me, me

The crowd cheers, along with Ryujin and her. The concept and message feel so simple, looking back, but the effect it had on people makes Chaeryeong so ecstatic. 

Just be yourself.

This really is their night.

—

After a little over three minutes in heaven, the song ends, transitioning to the citizen-darling APT. You’re still enjoying it, but the thirst in your throat starts to grow. 

It’s time for a drink!

You go back to the bar, evading the people grinding on each other (or one another, you don’t judge them, anyway) to your destination. You tap your hands softly on your thighs to the rhythm of the song.

You find your uncle waiting for you, standing in front of your seat, smiling happily at his nephew’s effort. He’s making a drink in his percussion thing. You’re making him proud.

“How did it go?” he shouts, shaking the drink masterfully.

You let out a somewhat drunk laugh. “It was fun. You were right!” Alcohol is starting to have an effect on you.

“Told ya,” your uncle says, before walking to the other side of the bar, leaving you tapping your fingers to the song alone.

—

Apateu apateu, apateu apateu

Chaeryeong dances to the beat joyfully. She loves this song, always has been. Her arms and legs are moving in sync to the beat. She’s happy. She’s ecstatic, even.

What she hasn’t realized yet is that–

“God, I fucking love this–”

–her friend is missing.

“–song.”

Apateu apateu, uh uh-huh uh-huh

Ryujin is probably going to the toilet, though. Maybe she should just keep dancing along to the song. Ryujin should be back soon.

—

“Long Island Iced Tea, please,” Ryujin says to the bartender. A young man is close to her. He’s tapping his fingers to the rhythm of the song disinterestedly. Is he waiting for something?

The bartender laughs. “Well, my nephew also likes it! Wanna make it two?” He asks the young man, who seems lost in his head. He only nods.

Ryujin lets out a small smile, before taking the seat next to him. He seems nice. Should she talk to him a bit?

“So.”

The young man turns to her.

“Having fun?”

He nods, smiling.

Ryujin lets out a small laugh. What should she start the conversation with?

“Do you listen to ITZY?”

Fuck, why did she ask that? What if–

“Yeah,” he says groggily. He’s clearly starting to get drunk. Thank god, she can probably show her true colors with him without much worry.

“Were you here when they played Wannabe?” he asks. His uncle hands him the Long Island Iced Tea.

Ryujin can’t help but let out a smile. He recognizes one of her songs! She then softly makes the shoulder dance, making him chuckling and following her moves.

He seems like a cool guy.

—

Where the fuck is Ryujin?

Chaeryeong starts her search for her friend, who has now been gone for twenty minutes. She’d never go for a long bathroom break anywhere outside of the hotel, of course. ‘They’re dirty’, she once said.

Chaeryeong scans the crowd for a short-haired woman in a blue denim jacket, but there’s none to be found. Her heart rate rises. What if she was actually abducted?

Fuck.

She tries to call Ryujin, but she doesn’t answer. She needs to go somewhere she can rely on.

Shit, the bar it is.

Chaeryeong walks towards the white area in the club's corner. She’s going to ask someone if they had seen a short-haired woman in her denim jacket, blue. She’s going to find Ryujin without raising a suspicion. She’s going to find her friend.

And be it fate, be it a mere coincidence. She does a double take, then a triple take. She finds her friend sitting at the bar, talking to a young man. Ryujin is rejoicing in the conversation, so does he.

Thank god. 

—

“Hey, I thought I lost you!”

A sound comes from your right. You look over to find a tall, long-haired woman walking towards you two. She’s in a tight-fitted dress that shows off her curves beautifully. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” says the short-haired woman. She seems calm, unlike her friend, who looks a bit worried, hands shaking beside herself.

“Thank god,” the long-haired woman says, annoyed by her friend’s antics. “Don’t fucking go somewhere else alone, alright?”

The short-haired woman only giggles.

The long-haired woman shakes her head. “So, who’s this guy?”

The short-haired woman introduces you to her friend, who’s listening intently. You give her a handshake before dragging the chair behind you close for her to sit down.

And the night begins, for real this time.

The conversation goes on. Many Long Island Iced Teas are served to the three of you, and by the time you look at your watch, it’s eleven already. 

Time flies when you have fun.

The conversation with these two unknown women has been nothing short of calming to you��a contradiction to the raging music around. You’ve talked about your life as a photography student, while they’ve talked about their careers. You find out that they work together, and you understand how tiring and demanding their job is.

“Is it fun working with your friend?”

The two women look at each other before laughing. “Well, it’s good sometimes. But yeah, there are times that I get tired of her face,” the short-haired woman says, as the other nudges her shoulder softly.

“Damn you.”

You look at your watch again. You should go to bed now; class is tomorrow morning!

“So, it has been nice talking to you guys–” you’re trying to sound as polite as possible before drinking up the last of your cocktail. “–but I have a class tomorrow morning, and–”

“Aww–” the short-haired woman sulks, kicking her feet like a child “–can’t you just stay? For us?”

“Yeah, please?” the other woman chimes in.

You genuinely appreciate their gestures, but you can’t stay up late like this, especially in a nightclub.

“I’m sorry, guys, but I really have to go.”

Ask for their contacts!

You pull your phone out of your pocket. “Can I have your Instagrams?”

The women smirk at each other. “Sure, if you can promise you’ll tell nobody about this,” the long-haired woman says.

It’s a bit weird, really, but they probably have their reasons. “Sure.”

The short-haired woman is the first one who types into your phone. She giggles while doing so. Fuck, should’ve cleared the search history first, those IVE Instagrams.

“Seems like you’ve followed me already~” the short-haired woman says, giggling, before handing it to the long-haired woman, leaving you confused.

Is she? She looks kinda familiar.

“And me too~”

You narrow your eyes. Have you met them before? Under that mask, you think there’s something about them, but you just can’t quite make it up.

She hands you back the phone, and your eyes widen at the realization as you look at your search history.

They signal a ‘shhh’ with their fingers, smiling.

They’re @iamfinethankyouandryu and @chaerrry0.

—

Ryujin then laughs at the man’s shocked expression, before closing in on his body. She gets so close to him she can feel his warmth on her. She plants a hand on his thigh, and he shudders in response.

“You know the implications, right?”

He can’t seem to find a word out of his mouth, still hanging open. He must be so damn shocked to meet his idols in a nightclub like this, and they’re lusting over him!

—

With the teasing image, Chaeryeong’s core starts to heat up with desire. She’s a little apprehensive, but with him still seems to be lost on what to do, or what to say next, she has to make a move. She follows Ryujin and touches his thigh.

“Come on, do you want us?”

She then glides her hand up his inner thigh, feeling his muscles. It gets closer and closer to the growing tent in his pants, before she stops just right before the contact. His breath hitches.

“I–I–”

“Don’t be shy, pretty boy. You’re quite a catch yourself~” she says, followed by the hottest lip bite she can make. He sucks a sudden at the sight.

“W–Won’t you guys get caught by D–Dispatch or something?” he asks, voice shaken. His hands are trembling with pure anxiety. “I mean, I’d be v–very honored to be with you two tonight.”

“Well, fuck Dispatch,” Ryujin says, and Chaeryeong nods in agreement. “It’s not everyday we get to do this.”

—

A Lovely Night

The taxi ride to the hotel starts quietly. He’s trying his best to not pull the driver’s attention to the fact that he’s heading to Ryujin’s hotel in the middle of the night. If the driver knows, it’s over for the three of them.

Ryujin, though, can’t keep her hands to herself, snaking down to his crotch whenever she can. She wants this so fucking badly. She’s getting wetter and wetter as the seconds go by. Her core is aching with unbridled lust.

He’s so damn big.

—

Chaeryeong can’t risk having her fame tarnished with a single night, but god fucking damn, why does Ryujin keep touching his cock?

“Want a touch, Chae?” Ryujin whispers into her ear.

Chaeryeong slaps Ryujin’s hand away from his length, not wanting to indulge in such perverse action. “Don’t fucking do that, Ryu!” Chaeryeong sneers quietly, and Ryujin giggles. Fuck, why is she so insufferable?

But Chaeryeong can’t deny the ache building up inside her crotch. She’s feeling it. She needs a release.

—

Ryujin doesn’t stop with Chaeryeong’s words. They only spur her on even more. Her hand finds its place under his tight boxers, and she starts stroking it softly. Her other hand grabs some creased dollar bills for the taxi driver. She’s going to keep quiet about this.

“How much do we have to pay you, ma’am?”

“Just don’t kill each other and you’ll be fine,” the taxi driver says.

—

Ryujin’s aroma is intoxicating you. It’s so sensual, and your cock is so hard because of it. You can’t help but let out a moan. She looks into the rearview mirror to see the well-being of her customer, but she doesn’t seem to care, as she switches back to see what’s on the road without a word.

Ryujin’s smell reminds you of those femme fatale you’ve seen in the movies—sensual, manipulative, dangerous. This is so heavenly for you.

After a while, Chaeryeong puts her hand on your body, feeling your tight abdomen. Her finger draws a pattern on your toned chest. She’s admiring your strong frame.

“You do feel good, pretty boy.”

—

“So,” Chaeryeong says, unsure of what to do next.

“Where do you want to start?” Ryujin asks.

You turn to her. Her eyes are bored into yours. She’s expecting an answer from you. Don’t just say ‘I don’t know, Ryujin’, but where should you start?

“Where do you guys usually start from?”

What a dumbass question! Do you think they bring a guy back to their hotel and do this every day?

“Kissing, perhaps?” Chaeryeong chimes in. “We should start slowly, what happened in the taxi doesn’t count.”

“I have a little game,” says Ryujin. Her hands are groping your back and chest. You shudder at the contact. “Let’s compare our kisses, shall we?”

You gulp, hands trembling, but you’re trying to keep your cool. “Sure, who should I–”

Ryujin captures your lips in a searing kiss, as Chaeryeong unlatches herself from you with a small whine. Ryujin’s tongue invades your mouth aggressively. There’s a faint hint of raspberry covered in that heavy Long Island Iced Tea she drank over the night. Her hands dig into the under of your waistband, groping your raging bulge through your boxers, making you jolt in response. You moan and moan into her mouth.

Your hands start to have a mind of their own. Your right hand snakes under her shirt to feel her toned back, while your left hand finds itself on her lacey bra, kneading her soft, firm breasts. God, she has a nice body. She moans and moans into your mouth.

“Damn.” You hear Chaeryeong say from the back, as you start to get used to Ryujin’s body.

Suddenly, Ryujin pulls back from the burning kiss. She’s panting softly, clearly satisfied with the kiss. “Could’ve used more tongue, but this is already pretty good.”

You try to catch your breath, feeling like Ryujin pulled the air out of your lungs. “Th–Thanks, Ryujin.”

“Your turn, Chae,” Ryujin says.

You turn to Chaeryeong. She’s staring into your eyes blankly. She’s as unsure as you.

You give her an offer, “Do you want me to–”

“I’ll–I’ll do it.” Chaeryeong says, before taking a deep breath. “I just–need to get used to your body a bit.”

Her hands start to find their rhythms. She starts from your hands, holding on to them softly. She then wanders upwards along your arm, feeling your lean muscles.

“You take care of yourself well,” she says, voice laced with sultry.

“Th–Thanks, Chaeryeong.” Your appreciative words are rewarded with a smile from her. Her hands then travel over your body. Her left hand finds your erection under your boxers. She’s stroking it softly, enough to earn a whimper from you. Her right hand runs over your back, sending pleasure through your frame.

“Nghh~”

After a few pumps, her hand leaves your cock, making you groan in the sudden absence.

She then grabs your chin gently, before pulling you into a loving kiss. The faint scent of your cock remaining in her hand flies into your nostrils. 

Chaeryeong doesn’t let her tongue slip into your mouth like Ryujin did. She merely has a taste of your Long Island-laced lips. You can taste the strawberry resting on her mouth, mixed with the Long Island Iced Tea she drank throughout the night.

Your hands feel her pert breasts on top of her tight-fitted dress, squeezing them, kneading them. She has been taking care of herself well; you can feel it. You wander down to her wet cunt under her panties, and she gasps softly into your mouth. You’re sure that she loves this.

“Mmm, that felt good, baby,” Chaeryeong says, muffled into the kiss.

You feel her puffy cunt on your palm, seeking her wetness with your fingers. You find out that she shaves, before you plunge yourself into her drenched cavern.

“Mmmph!” she rasps. Her body turns into a jelly, able to be controlled to your liking. You dig your fingers deep into her sweet, wet cunt, before curling up to where she’s sensitive the most. She falls into your embrace. You hear Ryujin chuckling on your back. Chaeryeong’s body warmth emanates into yours. Her wet cunt is welcoming your fingers easily.

Still, you can’t let her cum so soon. You regretfully pull out of the kiss and her wetness, before sucking on your fingers lewdly. She tastes so salty and musky. God, what a pleasure to your tongue. Chaeryeong pants.

“S–So,” Chaeryeong says, still trying to catch her breath.

“Who’s better?” Ryujin asks, staring into your eyes.

You let out a sigh before answering, “I get to feel Chaeryeong’s pussy, so–”

“Hey! That’s not fair! You didn’t even touch my panties!” Ryujin sneers.

—

“Stand up and face me.” Chaeryeong watches Ryujin ordering, and he complies immediately. His erection pokes through his pants into a tall tent on his crotch.

She admires his stiffness for a while. She seems eager to take in the image of his big cock. Her hands toy with his bulge playfully, eliciting moans from him. 

She then grabs onto his waistband, looking up into his eyes.

“Ready?”

He nods.

Chaeryeong watches her friend pulling his pants down, revealing the bulge under the boxers. He’s fucking horny for them, isn’t he? Chaeryeong can feel the heat building up within her core. She needs a release, but she isn’t brave enough to let it out yet.

The show continues, as Ryujin pulls his boxers down. His erection springs freely. 

God, he’s so big.

Ryujin admires his length for a while. Her eyes are now gleaming with desire, and Chaeryeong can’t help but start to rub her core, sending shockwaves through her body. Fuck the reticence. She needs to cum.

“Again, you said that you didn’t touch my pussy when I kissed you, right?”

He nods sheepishly. Ryujin is going to make him feel her cunt.

Ryujin then pulls him down and captures his lips aggressively again. Chaeryeong lets out a gasp. This time, she brings his hand into feeling her puffy cunt, and he pushes his soft fingers into her. Chaeryeong can hear her friend moan needily into his mouth.

“Mmmph, that feels so good, pretty boy,” Ryujin says into the kiss. His fingers turn upwards to stimulate Ryujin’s inner walls, making her body shiver. Chaeryeong watches their bodies turning into a needy ball of lust. He’s so good at this.

Chaeryeong can’t bear the beckoning heat inside of her anymore. She pushes her slender fingers into her pussy, playing with the inner walls of herself. She quietly moans at the lewd sight. 

—

You hear Chaeryeong moaning from the back. This probably spurs her on, so you lose yourself deeper into the kiss. You push your tongue into Ryujin’s mouth, and she gasps at such audaciousness. She wants your tongue, so you give her your tongue.

Your finger is still working on Ryujin’s g-spot tirelessly, trying to elicit moans out of her mouth. She responds willingly to your touch, and you love the way she reacts like this.

“So–So good, Ryu,” you utter, trying to keep yourself from getting lost in the situation.

—

Ryujin softly plants her lips onto the head of his throbbing length, rewarding her with an airy moan from him.

“Fuck!” he cries in a whisper.

He composes himself well. The other three aren’t going to wake up if he can keep his voice down like this.

“Come on, Chae,” Ryujin unlatches herself from his stiff cock, but still keeping one hand on it, stroking softly. “Make him cum.”

“B–But I don’t wanna kiss you, Ryu. I–”

“Now is not the time, Chae. Just come here,” Ryujin signals her friend to give him an otherworldly blowjob with her. She’s too drunk to care about kissing Chaeryeong right now.

“I–uh–fuck, alright!” Chaeryeong finally gives in, and Ryujin smiles at her friend’s compliance.

Let’s give him the blowjob he’ll never forget.

Ryujin plants her lips onto his cock again from his front, taking in his intense taste. He’s driving her insane with his cock. He rasps quietly in pleasure. His mouth hangs open, and Ryujin is sure revelling in the way he’s feeling her on his cock right now.

Chaeryeong then joins in on his back, starting to take a swipe of her tongue on his hardened testicles. Her hands land on his muscular ass. He’s covering his mouth to not let out a loud moan. God, what a sight for Ryujin.

—

Chaeryeong doesn’t want to kiss her friend. It’s weird to be Ryujin. So, she just paints his balls with her saliva hungrily, meticulously avoiding her friend’s lips. Her hands are roaming over his back—a courtesy of her, while Ryujin takes his front.

She then feels his hand gripping onto her head from the other side. Ryujin is getting it too. He’s pressing Chaeryeong harder into his ass. Their makeup starts to get messy from performing their oral masteries on him. He moans and cries silently in ecstasy while also trying his best to not wake the others up. Chaeryeong can’t help but to run her fingers down between his ass cheeks, and she gets another whimper from him.

His balls taste so damn salty, so musky, and that’s driving her insane. Her cunt feels like it’s on fire. She uses one of her hands to dig down her tight pants and rub on her swollen clit. It feels so good. It feels like she’s going to fly.

“Shit, this feels so–ahh,” a soft moan leaves Chaeryeong’s mouth as she plunges her fingers into her cunt, curling them up where she needs it the most. Her silenced whimpers hit his balls. God, this feels great. 

—

The pleasure these women are giving you is unreal. Ryujin creates a suction around your cock, bobbing her head back and forth. She’s so damn good at this. While on the other side, Chaeryeong drags her tongue from your sack up to your puckered hole. Fuck, it feels so damn good.

You press their heads into your aching heat, and they seem to accept it eagerly. Both Ryujin and Chaeryeong up their antes for you, and that brings you closer and closer to your orgasm.

Suddenly, an idea pops into your head.

“Girls?”

“Yes?” Chaeryeong and Ryujin answer at the same time. They stop their oral masteries, making you groan softly at the sudden detachments.

“Can you guys like–sucking my cock at the same time?”

The two women look at each other. It’s going to make them think. You see Ryujin nodding, but Chaeryeong hesitates a bit.

“I–”

“I–I mean, it’s fine if you don’t want to, Chaeryeong,” you say. 

—

Chaeryeong has certainly given some blowjobs, but this is the first time she’s going to do it with Ryujin. Hell, it’s the first time she’s going to do it with another woman. This is huge for her.

Chaeryeong contemplates for a few heartbeats. This is going to change the dynamic between her and Ryujin forever. On the other hand, the alcohol-induced aching inside her core is ravaging her inhibition. Plus, they’re just having a little fun anyway, nothing serious.

Fuck it, let’s do this.

She then shoots a grin back at him. “Alright, pretty boy, get on the bed.”

—

He quickly complies with her order. Ryujin watches his erection twitching in pure anticipation before turning to Chaeryeong.

“Let’s do this.”

Chaeryeong nods. She doesn’t seem to be weirded out by the prospect of kissing her friend anymore, and Ryujin couldn’t be more happy with the fact.

Ryujin then climbs up the bed, crawling towards him like a predator. Her eyes look into his hungrily, before taking a long lick from his balls up his shaft. He moans uncontrollably, still keeping his volume low, trying his best to not wake up the other women.

“God, you’re so good at this, Ryujin,” Chaeryeong says, following Ryujin’s lead onto the bed.

Ryujin giggles before giving him another wet lick on her throbbing cock. She has to make him falter under her touch. She gives him a lick, and another, and another. He groans, moans, and whimpers with her sensual contact. 

And if that isn’t already enough, Ryujin takes his mushroom-shaped tip into her filthy mouth, coating him with her saliva. He grunts in pleasure. His body turns rigid.

“My god, Ryu–Ryujin,” he moans her name out, and that encourages her even more. She takes in more of his length with each bob of her head, staring from just the tip, going deeper and deeper. Eventually, her nose hits his pubic bone, taking him in fully and staying right there. She can’t think straight right now, with a cock stuffed in her mouth like this. She wants him to lose control. She wants him to moan her name uncontrollably.

She’s making gagging sounds. Her eyes are watery. This cock is too big for her, but her capacity means shit if that means she gets to hear her boy moan like this.

“Hey,” Chaeryeong snaps Ryujin back into reality, pushing her arm softly. “This cock isn’t just for you, Ryu.”

Ryujin regretfully pulls back from his hardness, slowly. The cock inside her throat is now gone. She whimpers at the sudden lack of filling in disappointment. Black streaks from her makeup are now forming from her tears.

��F–Fine.”

—

His cock is now slicked with Ryujin’s drool. He’s going to taste like Ryujin, isn’t he?

“Can I have him for a sec?” Chaeryeong asks her friend, still trying to catch her breath after taking an entire cock inside her mouth.

“Go–cough–ahead, Chae.”

“Thanks.”

Chaeryeong begins her show slowly, but there has to be sensuality in it. That’s her aim. She works down his taint first, drawing breathy moans from him. His taste is so intense, so addictive. It’s his pure body scent mixed with Ryujin’s raspberry. It’s like an aphrodisiac to her.

She doubles her efforts, drawing a straight line up from his testicles, to his shaft, to his leaking tip. Her tongue is making him whimper erratically, and she’s relishing in it. It feels good to have him lost in pleasure like this.

“You’re doing this pretty well too, Chae,” Ryujin says, finally recomposing herself beside Chaeryeong. He’s shaking.

Chaeryeong can only smile, her lips still busy kissing a trail on his thick cock. She’s smearing her essence all over him. He’s going to taste a bit–different after this.

“God, shit, just suck me off already, Chaeryeong,” he pleads, making Chaeryeong chuckle.

“I’ll wait for Ryu, pretty boy.”

Ryujin slowly recollects herself by the side as Chaeryeong is busy teasing his cock, wiping her own drool off her mouth. Then, she finally rejoins the play, starting by licking the underside of his hardness. He moans in ecstasy.

“Fuck!” he cries out, making Ryujin giggle softly.

Chaeryeong knows that it’s time for her to go in, so she pulls back, taking him on the left side. She’s inviting Ryujin to take the other side of his cock. Ryujin does so, and he lets out a whimper.

—

You’re absolutely revelling in the pleasure these women are giving you. Ryujin and Chaeryeong are giving you one of the best blowjobs you’ve ever had. The amount of saliva is perfect. The technique is immaculate. The sight is nothing short of exquisitely vulgar. You’re struggling to find a purchase in the bedsheets.

They’re sliding up and down on your cock from the side. When one goes up, the other goes down, keeping your cock being fully taken care of by their mouths the whole time. The pleasure on your cock shoots through you like a bullet. Fuck, this feels great.

Ryujin then syncs her movement with Chaeryeong, now moving together in an up and down motion. Their lips make contact when they’re at the tip of your cock, and sometimes, they put on a show for you, kissing each other with your cock in the middle. Their tongues pierce into each other’s mouth, grazing your aching tip as they kiss.

With such a lewd sight, you can feel your orgasm coming. Your legs grow tense. You’re going to cum from this double blowjob from your idols.

“Girls, I–I think I’m gonna cum.”

Both of them only reply with a giggle, before sealing the tip of your cock with a sensual kiss, one that’s so damn pleasurable for your dick. The view is just too splendid for you—two women kissing on your cock. The sensation is unreal. This is just too much. You can’t hold it anymore.

“Fuck!”

Cum is fired out of your cock into the kiss, and the women both hum in satisfaction. Your cock twitches between their dirty mouths. Your whole body jerks and spasms between them. Your whole life leads to this, and you wouldn’t change a thing.

Your whole body shudders in rapture, unable to make sense of the pleasure coursing through it. Cum is shot out of your cock into their mouths, and they seem to be happy to share your nectar together.

Your orgasm inevitably dies down. You’re starting to catch your breath. They look up at you with nothing but lust inside their eyes.

“That tastes good, pretty boy,” Ryujin says, scooping the remnants of your cum on her cheeks with her fingers, before plunging them in Chaeryeong’s mouth. She seems to be taken aback by it, but eventually, she happily accepts her friend’s fingers. Fuck, what a sight.

Chaeryeong is sucking her friend’s fingers with her eyes closed, trying to take in the salty taste of you as much as possible. She lets out a satisfied hum in the action, and you feel like you’re ready to take on both of them again.

—

Chaeryeong loves this. She loves the way Ryujin’s fingers are toying with her tongue. She loves the way his salty taste engulfs her like a tsunami. Chaeryeong fucking loves this.

“So good,” she says, muffled into Ryujin’s fingers, before they’re pulled out of her mouth, leaving Chaeryeong whining in disappointment with a string of saliva.

Then, as she opens her eyes, she is welcomed by the sight of Ryujin unbuttoning her shirt, ready to bare herself in front of them. Her black, lacy bra comes into view. 

She looks so hot.

“What, do I look that hot?”

Chaeryeong recollects herself immediately. She’s caught staring at her friend’s body. How embarrassing!

Ryujin only giggles before removing her outer garment. Her toned tummy is now visible. Chaeryeong watches the man drool over her friend’s body, and she can’t help but chuckle at him.

—

Ryujin is now boiling with lust. She needs to get rid of this fabric cage as soon as possible. Her pussy is drenched, and she needs something inside her.

She quickly unlocks her black, lacy bra she’s wearing, exposing her firm breast for the other two to see. She feels so–naked, so–vulnerable, but fuck it, she needs something inside of her now, and it’s going to be his cock.

“Alright, you two–oh my god, will you guys just fucking stop looking at me and strip, please?” Ryujin sneers, fed up with their gazes on her. She wants a cock inside her now, and if their clothes are staying on like this, all this juice would be for nothing.

“O–Oh, sorry, Ryu,” Chaeryeong says before quickly unzipping her black dress from behind. Ryujin watches the act in contentment. Chaeryeong’s small breasts slowly come into view. Along with her friend, he strips himself off his shirt, revealing his toned abs for the women to see. Fuck, he looks delicious.

“Hey,” he says, chuckling, snapping her back into reality. “Ready?”

“Y–Yeah.”

He moves her chin closer into another torrid kiss. His Long Island-laced lips touch hers. His tongue pierces into her mouth with aggression. They are intertwined in a battle for dominance. His free hand grabs and squeezes her breast, eliciting a jolt in her body. Ryujin moans out into the kiss in pleasure.

She then hears Chaeryeong huffing. “Come on, guys. This isn’t just about you two!” Chaeryeong says, annoyed by the sight of the two kissing.

Ryujin giggles, before pulling Chaeryeong into the kiss. Their tongues are intertwining messily, drool is dribbling down their chins onto the bedsheets. Their hands are desperately clinging on to one another, trying to have their fair share of arousal.

“Oh god,” Chaeryeong utters, barely catching the chaotic rhythm of the kiss. Her drool leaking everywhere, splattering on Ryujin’s and his body. “Th–This is fucking—mmm.”

—

God, this is embarrassing for her.

Chaeryeong is having a hard time catching her rhythm. She’s trying, but the other two are so adept with their tongues it’s making her crumble.

“Goddamn it, s–slow down, guys,” she utters into the blazing kiss. Her hands are caressing Ryujin’s and his body. She knows that her spit is leaking, but she has to catch up.

She hears the other two giggle with her struggle. Fucking bitches.

Ryujin would be the first to pull back from the kiss, panting, leaving the two of them in the act. She leans back a little, clitoris already swelling with arousal. 

“Alright, can you fuck me yet, pretty boy? A woman needs a cock over here,” Ryujin says, teasing her nub with her fingers.

“Just–Just go, she needs this,” Chaeryeong says. She can’t help but feel a little disappointed, as he pulls back from the kiss with a slight whimper.

“O–Okay,” he says, as Ryujin flips onto her stomach, hands and knees on the bed. She’s ready to take his cock.

—

Ryujin is on all-fours, ready to take his cock that she has been craving. She needs his cock inside her cunt. She wants to be plowed. She wants to be fucked.

“Yesss~ put it inside me, put it inside me,” she rasps—so eager, so needy.

He frantically tries to line up his cock against her cunt. His mushroom tip ghosts past her a few times, making Ryujin groan in dissatisfaction. Chaeryeong crawls to the front of Ryujin, spreading her legs. She’s going to have Ryujin eat her out.

“So, I’m supposed to be the middle woman here?” Ryujin playfully teases. She’s more than willing to taste Chaeryeong’s nectar.

“Y–Yeah–ahh! Fuck!”

Chaeryeong’s head falls backwards as Ryujin presses the tongue against her pretty cunt. Ryujin is quite sure that the other women might hear that, but Chaeryeong’s wetness and texture is just too exquisite for her to care. Ryujin lavishes her friend enthusiastically, lapping up the nectar that has been building up through the night.

“Nghhh~”

Chaeryeong’s taste is driving Ryujin insane. She’s salty. She’s musky. She’s perfect. Ryujin just keeps swiping her tongue against Chaeryeong’s folds, eliciting guttural, deep groans out of her friend. At the same time, he plunges his cock into Ryujin’s cunt from the back.

“Mmph! Shit!” Ryujin moans. His cock starts to fill her pussy as she’s lapping at Chaeryeong’s delicious cunt with reckless abandon. His cock is so big, making her feel so full. His hands grab onto her slutty waist for a hold, simultaneously locking Ryujin in place. She becomes a whimpering mess between the groaning him and the shaking Chaeryeong.

His length nudges her g-spot softly, making her knees weak. She falls stomach-first onto the bed, so ready to be prone-boned. Her tongue keeps up the work tirelessly. Chaeryeong is still a shaking lump of flesh in front of her, and Ryujin has to make her friend cum.

A cock inside her spurs Ryujin on. She licks her friend’s pussy even faster, and Chaeryeong starts to put the pressure on Ryujin’s head, pushing her head deeper into her cunt. Ryujin can’t think straight anymore—cock in her cunt, cunt in her face. The two of them are taking over her senses—the size, the taste, the scent. It’s everything Ryujin wants.

—

This pleasure feels like a sin to Chaeryeong. She can’t quite comprehend the feeling coursing through her right now. Ryujin’s tongue is doing wonders on her pussy, but she’s her friend! How are they going to look at each other tomorrow?

Still, the pleasure overwhelms her senses like a goddamn tsunami. It’s fucking electric every time Ryujin’s tongue glides past her swollen clit. Her cunt feels like it’s on fire. Hell, her hand even presses Ryujin’s face deep into her needy pussy!

“So–So good,” Chaeryeong mewls. Her head falls backwards.

The grip on Ryujin’s head becomes tighter. Chaeryeong is trying to intoxicate her friend, making her drunk with her pussy. The strands of Ryujin’s short hair find their places between Chaeryeong’s hands. Ryujin is drunk in her pussy, and Chaeryeong, even if it is so foreign, is loving it.

—

Shin Ryujin’s cunt feels too good.

You pound into her with reckless abandon, eliciting moans and whimpers suppressed by her friend’s cunt. She’s lying stomach-flat on the bed, so perfect for your domination. Her juice spills out of her needy pussy onto the bed. Those poor staff. They’re going to have a lot of work tomorrow.

You lie down against the smoothness of her back, feeling her warmth. You’re putting your weight on her. Your head is right beside her. Such a perfect view to watch Ryujin eating Chaeryeong’s cunt. The sight of her tongue splaying on her friend’s cunt is obscenely vulgar. Chaeryeong’s meaty thighs are shaking in pleasure.

Your hands roam over the front of Ryujin’s body, feeling her abs, her firm tits, and eventually, you grab onto the front of her neck. God, what a body. You pull Ryujin’s face out of Chaeryeong’s cunt, leaving a string of juice between them. Ryujin is so drunk in pleasure coursing through her—your cock inside her cunt, and Chaeryeong’s cunt on her pretty face. Her eyes are barely open. Her expression is so damn puzzled by the situation.

Suddenly, you pull Ryujin in for a sensual kiss. The remnant of the earlier Long Island iced tea lingers. Then, there’s the violent taste of Chaeryeong’s salty juice on her lips. It’s so good. You plunge your tongue into Ryujin’s mouth, making her moan as your cock keeps plowing her cunt with no abandon.

—

Chaeryeong is barely able to catch her breath as Ryujin’s tongue leaves her cunt. God, what a feeling she just had. It’s a bit of a whiplash, but her finger will do. She pushes her digits into her own cunt again as they kiss, watching the rough fucking in front of herself. She curls her finger where she needs it the most, prolonging the intense pleasure she felt from Ryujin’s tongue. She’s chasing her own orgasm, and she’s sure that she’s so fucking close.

“Oh god, oh god, oh goddd!”

Chaeryeong sprays her juice onto her friend’s face, making her the first victim of the night. She cums, hard. Her body shakes with intense pleasure as her fingers are knuckles deep into her cunt, curling up at the right fucking spot. Her body falls onto the soft bed, limping, shaking.

“Nghh~ Ch–Chae, you t–taste good,” Ryujin stammers, eyes barely open, body all limp under his dominance.

She can only catch her breath quietly, in front of the rough fucking Ryujin is taking.

—

The sensation is just too foreign for Ryujin to comprehend at this point. Chaeryeong just squirted on her face, and then she got knocked out from the sheer intensity of her own orgasm. Ryujin can’t move. She’s merely a spectator of this debauchery, and the best part is she’s more than willing to let him fuck her into oblivion.

“Nghmm, s–so g–good,” Ryujin mewls, so cock-drunk with the violent pounding from her back.

He gives her ass a loud spank, making her moan in the mix of shocking pain and surprising pleasure. His cock grazes against her wall so well—perfect curve, perfect length. He’s everything she could’ve asked for.

“More!” Ryujin says.

—

You give Ryujin’s reddened cheeks another harsh spank, making her yelp. Her ass is so fucking soft. You’re loving this. She’s loving this.

“More, p–please!” she mewls, she’s barely holding herself up from the pleasure coursing through her veins.

Your fucking cannot get rougher at this point—the ass slap–

“Ah!”

–the violent pounding. It’s making Ryujin dazed. It’s making Ryujin lost in the throes of pleasure. And the best part? It’s you doing all of this.

—

If he keeps up the pace, she’s going to cum in a minute.

Her pussy is getting stretched by his cock. He’s making her feel so full. It’s hitting all of her right spots. She keeps moaning and moaning in the wake of this divine delight. Her body feels limp, unable to move, but she loves this. She’s getting a cock inside her cunt, and she couldn’t have asked for more tonight.

The wave starts to form. It’s far, but it’s there. Her muscles tighten in this bliss. She’s going to cum!

“Oh god, I–I’m gonna–”

Her words are cut off with another slap on her ass, making her cry an unintelligible sound out. She finds the sound weird, but that’s the least of her concern right now.

“–cum, nghh.”

The wave hits. Ryujin’s orgasm crashes into her like a goddamn tsunami. Her body turns rigid in the wake of this divine delight under his. She lets out a loud wail. Her hands find purchase in the bedsheets, gripping onto them with her dear life. She savors it hungrily. She knows she’s going to fucking remember this, she’s going to.

After what felt like an eternity, she comes down from her peak. Ryujin slowly catches her breath with her still-fluttering eyes. She just had one of the best orgasms in her life. She’s going to cherish this moment, she’s going to.

—

That blowjob plays a part in delaying your orgasm. Thank god.

You drag your cock out of her spent pussy. It’s glistened in her filthy juice, shining against the nocturne. You watch her as she basks in the afterglow, trying to make sense of what just happened.

(Well, you’re also trying to make sense of what just happened.)

“Oh god,” you utter. Chaeryeong slowly sits up on the bed again, hair all messy after her mind-breaking orgasm.

“Should we–Should we take–a break?” you weakly ask, barely holding yourself together.

“Another round, p–please.”

“Fuck me, this time,” Chaeryeong blurts out, seeing the damage you’ve inflicted on Ryujin. “I want the same package as hers.”

Fucking hell.

—

You are sure that you aren’t going to forget this.

You’re fucking Lee Chaeryeong’s ass, as she eats Shin Ryujin’s pussy from above. Ryujin is looking up at you with her doe eyes, so dazed by the overwhelming pleasure she’s feeling. Chaeryeong’s ass feels so tight, so right. You can’t help but moan her name out in pure ecstasy. This is going to leave a mark on you forever. 

Your balls ghost past Ryujin’s face. Sometimes, she’d stick out her tongue to make your body jolt when you thrust into Chaeryeong’s ass. Ryujin moans and writhes under her, so lost in the pleasure her friend is giving. This must feel so right for her.

“Fuck, y–you’re so tight, Chaeryeong,” you utter, eyes barely opening with the intense pleasure coursing through you.

“You–You better c–cum in my a–ass–ah!” she replies, shaken as your cock plow into her ass.

“M–More than happy too, M–Miss Lee.”

—

She now knows why Ryujin was so ecstatic when she’s fucked like this.

He feels so full in her ass, full in the way no one has ever made her feel before. He pounds her without any relent, making sure that she will never forget this. The sensation is just electric. The sensation is just overwhelming, and she’s loving every second.

Ryujin’s taste is also nothing short of insane. She’s perfectly salty. The texture is perfect. Her scent is driving her insane. Chaeryeong keeps lavishing her friend’s cunt tirelessly, so fucking determined to make her cum with her tongue.

“G–God, fuck. Y–You taste so fucking good, Ryu,” she mewls, voice shaken along with the movement of his cock in her ass.

She hears Ryujin giggle from below.

—

Two layers of drunkenness can be a little overwhelming for Ryujin—one with the alcohol, another one with the sex, but she’s fucking revelling in this.

His balls are swinging above her face, and she makes sure to stick out her tongue whenever she can, to make him cum in her friend’s ass. Ryujin grabs onto his thighs softly, leaving enough room of strength to make him move freely. Her nails dig lightly into his skin, leaving crescent marks on him.

Down below (or above, it doesn’t matter anymore), Chaeryeong sure knows how to eat pussy. She’s lapping Ryujin’s cunt masterfully, eliciting moans and moans out of her lungs. She’s so fucking drunk in the sex she just can’t think straight anymore.

The familiar sensation builds up in her loins—the same sensation for when his cock was in her cunt, the same sensation for when her fingers are knuckles deep into her wet, tight cavern. She’s going to cum.

“Oh god, oh god, gonna cum!” Ryujin mewls, so hazy from the relentless pleasure crashing onto her.

Instead of any reply, Chaeryeong only laps on her cunt faster and faster and faster. Ryujin’s head is feeling like it’s going to explode. She’s so dizzy. She brings her finger down to rub herself off, making her hips buck into Chaeryeong’s face with bliss.

Ryujin becomes the first to cum twice in this messy debauchery. Her cunt sprays gushes of juice onto Chaeryeong’s face. Her friend shows no sign of disgust, instead latching her lips on Ryujin’s clit, making her scream in pure delight. Her hands find purchase on the bed sheets tightly, as her scream pierces through the quiet nocturne.

—

Well, Yeji is definitely going to hear that.

Ryujin tastes great—perfectly salty. Chaeryeong feels torn. It feels so wrong to be her friend, but who can resist Ryujin’s charm?

Ryujin’s legs twitch in the corner of Chaeryeong’s eyes. She seems to be really lost in it. Chaeryeong keeps her mouth on Ryujin’s needy pussy, casting her in a state of bliss. She tugs it. She nibbles it. She’s making her friend scream with her filthy mouth, all the while taking his cock in her snug ass.

The sensation from behind her is going to put her in the same fate as Ryujin. Her muscles are blazing now. She’s going to cum with a cock in her ass!

“I–I think I’m gonna c–cum too, nghh~”

“At your service, Miss Lee,” he replies, pounding as fast as humanly possible into her. It’s coming. It’s coming.

Gushes of her own juice are discharged onto the damp sheet. Her body writhes with pure ecstasy. Her head falls onto the bed. The current just cuts through her so easily as she breaks the silence in the same way Ryujin did. This feels too fucking good.

—

It’s fucking unforgettable.

You keep fucking Chaeryeong through her unyielding orgasm. Her ass clenches around you as she cums violently. Ryujin is now panting below you, face full of bliss—eyes barely open, tongue hanging out from her slutty mouth. Chaeryeong’s arms are barely holding herself up. She almost collapses onto her friend’s body, writhing with pleasure. What a fucking sight.

You chase your orgasm relentlessly, not giving up even if Chaeryeong and Ryujin already did. Even thrust, every breath, everything in your life was leading to this moment, and you’re not going to waste it.

The familiar feeling builds up within your loins. You keep chasing it. You keep running for it. You’re going to cum inside of Lee Chaeryeong’s ass, and you’re not letting anyone stop it.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fu–ah!”

To say that it’s one of the best orgasms you’ve ever had wouldn’t be a hyperbole (up there, rivalling the one that you just had by their mouths mere minutes ago). You can literally see stars within your eyes as you unload globs of cum into Lee Chaeryeong. Your body shakes with unyielding bliss. You grunt—loud, stark. Your nails dig into the waist of Lee Chaeryeong. To cum inside her ass is just utterly divine. Your breathing stops. Everything stops. At this moment, it’s just you, Ryujin, and Chaeryeong in this debauchery that no one is going to rob away. This is the fucking high of your life.

You slowly come down from the precipice. You feel so dizzy from the heavenly sensation you just felt. Your cock twitches its last portion of cum into Chaeryeong’s ass, before you drag yourself out of her tightness. Her asshole gapes, missing your cock. Your cum flows out of her gaped asshole. Fuck, it’s beautiful.

“Fuck,” you utter—lost, dazed. You just did something you can’t comprehend, and it’s going to forever stick with you as one of the best moments of your life.

“Yeah, fuck,” Chaeryeong pants, before collapsing on top of Ryujin.

—

City Of Stars

“I know it’s a bit weird to ask you this.” you pause, unsure of your next words. Are they the right people to ask?

Fuck it, you just had the most mind-blowing sex with them. A question wouldn’t hurt.

“But I have an assignment due–” you pause again, looking at your watch. It's a little after two “–today.”

Ryujin laughs quietly. “What? Are you going to have us help with your assignment?”

You can only smile shyly, looking left and right at their ethereal, after-sex faces. “Kinda, yeah.”

Both women let out a laugh. “Sure, go ahead,” Chaeryeong says.

“As I’ve told you, I’m a photography student–”

“Wanna work for JYP after you graduate?” Ryujin asks.

You chuckle. “If it means I’ll see you two again, definitely.”

“That’s our boy,” Ryujin says, nudging your shoulder playfully.

“Well, as I’ve said, I have an assignment due in like–seven hours,” you continue. “I need a photo to hand in this morning. It can be pretty much anything.”

“Anything?” Chaeryeong asks, her hand gently caressing your shoulder.

“Yeah, anything.”

The three of you say nothing for a heartbeat, letting the silence hang in the air. They’re probably trying to help you.

“That seems like a straightforward assignment for me,” Ryujin says. Her hand roams down your body once more, making you shiver.

“Yeah,” Chaeryeong adds, giggling at your response. “Couldn’t have been so hard.”

She gives your cock a slight touch with the back of her hand, and your breath hitches a little.

“My suggestion–” Ryujin leans in to pepper your neck with kisses, sending pleasure through your body “–just pick something that screams you.”

“Ryujin, ngh~”

“You know, I wanna be me, me, me,” she continues between her heavenly kisses.

“Yeah, I don’t wanna be somebody,” Chaeryeong adds, her hands starting to jerk you off now. “Choose something that’s only you could’ve done.”

“Hhngn~”

The muscles start to tense up again.

“Yeah, because nobody else can do that,” Ryujin adds, still planting small pecks over your now-willing body. Her hands are everywhere.

“Good night, baby,” Chaeryeong coos.

And your vision turns white.

—

[zepskies]

Wake Up Call

Pairing: Sam Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: Sam often gets up before you in the morning. He enjoys luring you into the waking world. 

AN: Surprise! After writing Rest for Dean, equal parts hurt/comfort and fluff, I’ve been itching to do some “early morning” fluff for Sam…

Word Count: 700

Warnings: 18+ only for smuttishness. Fluff and feels.

Unlike Dean, Sam isn’t one to be sentimental.

It doesn’t mean he doesn’t care. On the contrary, he hordes and treasures memories in his mind, rather than on his shelves.

It also means he’s not one to collect things just to have them. There has to be a practical use, like the way good books can be read again. Even his dad’s journal is a useful resource, not just a record of the man’s most significant words, and in some ways, his legacy.

Sam’s room is function, not fluff.

That is, until you invaded.

Well, less invaded, and more invited, but still. He sees traces of you everywhere, in the half-drunken mugs of coffee and tea piling up across his nightstand; in the shelves you’ve put up to showcase his books, alongside yours (complete with “cute” little bookends you found at a flea market in town); and in the extra fuzzy blankets and smaller pillows you’ve bought, not only because they’re comfortable, but because they help “pull the room together,” in your words.

Sam had to snort at that one. Somehow, he doesn’t think a few decorative pillows and a lamp from Goodwill are going to make a windowless bedroom in a bunker look like a page out of a Pottery Barn catalog.

But he humored you then, with the same smile he looks down on you with now. It's early in the morning as he sits up beside you in bed with his coffee. He has a fresh mug ready for you on the nightstand. (He's also brought the army of old ones back to the kitchen sink.)

He spares a moment from his laptop to brush your hair away from your cheek as you sleep. His hand drifts down your bare shoulder, as far as he can reach down your arm. Finally, his touch stirs you. Your breathing shifts with a little hum as you creep closer to wakefulness.  

“Awake already?” you grumble at him.

“Yeah. Waiting for you.”

“Hnnmmmmm.”

Sam smiles. You can be so grumpy in the morning.

He takes another sip of his coffee and sets aside his mug and his laptop. He gets up just to raise his side of the blankets, sliding back in and slotting himself behind you. You sigh after his arm has slipped beneath your head, and the other around your waist, pulling you comfortably warm against his chest.

He issues his first plan of attack, laying soft kisses behind your ear, along your jaw. Even with your eyes closed, you smile as his long hair tickles your cheek. He pays special attention to your pulse point, nipping and sucking gently. A shiver tingles down your spine.

“No fair,” you breathe out, reaching back a hand to card through his hair. Your fingers tangle in the dark strands as he smiles against your skin.

He continues his tantalizing path down your neck. His hand moves under the sheets, under your borrowed sleep shirt. His thumb brushes the underside of your breast, earning a pleased hum from you. It encourages him to palm the round softness with his big hand, pebbling the nipple under his nimble, rolling fingers.

Uttering a soft whine, you begin to subtly writhe against him. Your ass presses back into him, accidentally-on-purpose. His arousal rises to meet you, a low-burning fire crackling to life.

Sam’s kisses become more insistent with the brush of his tongue against your skin. His hand moves from playing with your breast, down the soft length of your body. Every move is a form of delicious persuasion, especially when his fingers slip under the waistband of your panties.   

“You awake yet?” Sam teases, his lips moving against your cheek.

Your smile grows. You finally open your eyes and tangle your leg with his under the covers.

“If I’m not, this is one hell of a dream,” comes your cheeky reply.

Sam chuckles. His fingers dip between your legs, into your wet heat. You suck in a breath.

His voice in your ear is enough to raise the hair on your arms.

“Baby, we haven’t even started yet.”

AN: 😘 Hope you enjoy! I haven't written Sam in a while, but I do love him too. 💜

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[covenofagatha]

Four times Agatha fails at cockwarming (and one time she doesn't)

The second attempt

Part two of this ask

Word count: 4.4k

Warnings: g!p Agatha, premature ejaculation, teasing, mommy kink, bratty reader, desperate!Agatha, fingering, underwear as a gag, cum-eating (kind of)

When you wake up the next day, you can already feel the dull ache of arousal in your cunt. You’re still remembering the way Agatha looked yesterday, the way she sounded, when she came before she could even get her cock inside you, and it turns you on way more than it should. 

Why is there something so hot about your wife prematurely ejaculating? You’re not exactly sure, but having the power over her to make her fall apart so fucking easily and so fucking quickly really does something to you. 

Agatha is still sleeping next to you, on her side facing you, and you smirk. The two of you have plans today — seeing a movie and then mini-golfing. It’s a nice way to stay connected and spend time together with how busy you both have been. But you still have a little bit before you have to leave for the movie, more than enough time to get her cock inside you.

She stirs when you start to pepper kisses along her cheek and then down her neck and she turns onto her back, eyes fluttering open to look at you. “Morning, honey,” she says groggily. 

“Hi,” you whisper shyly, propping yourself up on an elbow to admire her. “How’d you sleep?” 

Your wife thinks for a moment. “Pretty good. I was dreaming about you.” The heat in her eyes tells you that it was a hot dream and you take the initiative to sit up and slide on top to straddle her. You’re wearing her purple flannel and simple gray cotton panties, Agatha in an oversized T-shirt and boxers, and your cunt can still feel the heat radiating off her already semi-erect cock through the two layers of fabric. Her hands rest on your waist and she looks up at you adoringly. 

“What was it about?” you ask, slowly rolling your hips over her length. She is always so pliable in the mornings and you feel her cock harden even more. 

Her hands squeeze you. “You were under my desk, sucking me off while I graded papers. And then I laid you on top of my desk so I could eat you and made you drip all over those papers, and when I passed them back to my students, they still smelled like you and I had to make up an excuse as to what it was.” 

The thought makes you throb and she’s almost to a full erection beneath you. “What did you say it was?” 

There’s a teasing glint in her eyes. “You woke me up right before I could come up with one.” 

You chuckle and grind down on her, both of you letting out a breathless moan. “Honey, we have to go soon,” she reminds you and you roll your eyes before reaching down between your bodies to spread your pussy lips open through your underwear so you can better drag your clit along her length. You whimper at how good it feels. 

“We still have some time,” you say persuasively but she pats your hips with pursed lips and you know you’re not winning this battle. You flop off of her back onto your side of the bed with a groan. “You know, you only make it harder on yourself when you deny me like that.” She snorts at the innuendo and gets out of bed. 

“Yeah, well, I’ll try to survive,” she retorts and grabs a change of clothes from her nightstand before going into the bathroom to get ready. 

It’s tempting to slide your hand into your underwear and relieve yourself, but she would be absolutely furious and probably not touch you for at least a week, so you grumble and get out of bed. You put on a skirt, fully intending to tease Agatha even more today, and a long-sleeve blouse. Agatha steps out of the bathroom, wearing suit pants and a blue sweater, and pats your ass on the way out of the room. 

She’s already making eggs when you come downstairs and breakfast is comfortably quiet before it’s time to go to the theater. 

If she notices that you’re being on your best behavior, she doesn’t say anything, and it makes you desperately want to be a brat instead. At least that gets you some attention. 

So when you get to the concession stand and you get a drink, you make eye contact with her as you deep-throat the straw before hollowing out your cheeks and sucking. 

Agatha chokes on a piece of popcorn and you smirk before walking past her to the room for your movie, taking extra care to brush your wrist against her cock. 

She settles into the chair next to you and you look around to make sure no one is near you before your hand sneaks into her lap and squeezes her cock. She keels and you feel her cock twitch in her pants. You rub your palm over her, stroking her back to full hardness, but then two more people walk into the theater and you go back to being her good girl. 

The movie starts but the only thing you notice is that Agatha is antsy. Her leg is bouncing on the floor fast and her fingers are drumming on the cupholder and it’s distracting. You know she’s a little worked up and you fucking love it — but you want to be able to pay attention to the screen. 

So you lay your hand flat on her thigh over her pants and she freezes. No more bouncing, no more drumming, just a sharp intake of breath. You don’t move your hand and you’re able to enjoy the movie for a few moments before you feel the fabric of her pants becoming tighter. 

Without even having to look down, you know she’s getting harder than she already was and you can’t help but tease — your fingers curl and you drag your nails up and down her thigh ever so slightly, always stopping before they reach the tip of  her cock. You don’t have a rhythm, sometimes pausing low for too long before her body jerks and you remember what you’re doing. 

Agatha slightly slouches further into the seat in an attempt to get your hand to go higher, but you hover your fingers off as a warning, and she shifts back to sitting normally. 

“Honey,” she whispers throatily and you have to bite back a smile. It’s unclear if she wants you to stop or keep going. 

So you slide your hand up so that two fingers are resting against the tip of her cock and she chokes. 

“Stop,” she says urgently, but it’s not an order, it’s a plea. 

You skim your fingertips over her hard cock and feel it pulse under you and she clenches onto both armrests and you can see how white her knuckles are in the light from the movie. 

Is she going to cum right here in the movie theater for you? In her pants like a fucking teenager? You think that might be even hotter than what happened yesterday and you can feel a pool of wetness collecting in your underwear

Agatha’s teeth are gritted so tightly and she presses a fist against her mouth, her hips rising almost indiscernibly. 

Fuck. 

But then her other hand grabs onto your wrist and pulls you off of her cock and you chuckle quietly before leaning over so your hot breath is on her ear. “Thought you were going to cum for me, mommy,” you mock and her cheek twitches before shaking her head, eyes staring bullets at the big screen. 

Your tongue flicks out against her earlobe and then you settle back into your chair and your wife doesn’t move until the movie gets to a sex scene and she lets out a little gasp. You know it’s not from the actors but from thinking of you like that, because that’s exactly what you’re doing. 

After she had cum prematurely yesterday, she had eaten you out until she’d gotten hard again and then lasted even longer than normal while fucking you. You had mentioned that maybe it was a good thing then and that she should cum quickly first every time, and she had growled and spanked you until you apologized for being a brat and then shoving three fingers inside you and making you orgasm again. 

Now it’s your turn to shift in your seat, feeling even more arousal course through your veins. 

Is that what she’s thinking about right now? A glance down at her cock confirms that she’s still just as hard as she was before and you wonder if she would agree to sneaking off for a bathroom quickie. You have no idea what’s happening in the movie, having missed critical exposition while teasing Agatha at the start, and you’d be fine with leaving right now if it meant you could get your wife’s cock in you sooner. 

“Mommy,” you murmur, making your voice sound as desperate as possible, not that you have to try too hard. “Can we—”

She shushes you. “Quiet, honey. Mommy’s trying to watch the movie.” You roll your eyes and are tempted to start teasing her again, but you know that she definitely wouldn’t give in then. 

And she will surely punish you if you do make her cum in her pants in a movie theater. 

So you sit patiently in your chair, barely even squirming, until the movie is over before jumping up the second the lights turn on. Agatha raises an eyebrow at you. 

“You…me…the bathroom?” you suggest and Agatha snorts. Your face falls. 

Your wife stands up more calmly than you did and you dramatically pout. “The putt-putt course is right next to here. You were so excited to play when we planned this, so we’re going to go there and you’re going to behave and maybe when we get home, mommy will give you a reward.” 

You want to make a cheap retort and ask if she thinks she can even make it until home, but you bite it back. No need to give her more reason to get fed up with you. 

“Fine, but you might want to cover up your pants somehow,” you advise, eyes flicking back down to the very evident outline of her erection. And then you can’t resist. “Try not to touch yourself, though. It’ll be a lot harder to hide a cum stain than just your cock.” 

Agatha grumbles something that sounds an awful like you fucking brat under her breath before taking off her blue sweater and tying it around her waist, leaving her in just a black tank top. Your mouth runs dry at the swell of her breasts, her pronounced collarbones, and the slight muscular curvature of her shoulders. She is so hot and your underwear just clings to you even more. 

She’s watching you expectantly, so you swallow hard, refocus, and lead the way outside. Agatha gives you the keys for you to move the car to the parking lot next to the theater while she walks over to buy tickets for mini-golf. 

You meet her by the station to get your equipment and almost laugh at how pained she looks. She’s standing at an awkward angle, like she’s actively trying not to collapse in on herself, and you know without a doubt that she’s still hard. 

After you get your putters and golf balls, you make your way over to the first hole. It’s a straight-forward shot about fifteen yards away and Agatha lets you go first. 

You line the ball up with the hole and get into position with the club, waggling your hips playfully because you can feel her eyes on your ass. You know that if you weren’t in public right now, she’d spank you for it. 

Focusing, you swing the putter and the ball rolls to about a foot away from the hole. 

“Not too bad,” Agatha says and you step out of the way so she can take her turn. When she leans over the club, you can see the tent her cock is making in her pants and it makes you snicker. It’s honestly impressive how little it takes to have her hard as a rock, and even more impressive of how long she can sustain the erection. 

Her ball goes well past the hole and she groans in frustration. 

“Got to get your head in the game, mommy,” you say with a wink, knowing that calling her that will only get her more worked up and her grip tightens on the putter. You’d make a comment about how easy she is, but you know that you don’t really have a leg to stand on with how wet you get just from the sight of her hands.

She gives you a warning look while you simper and lead her closer to the hole. You’re not a very good golfer, you don’t even really try when it comes to mini-golf, but for the sake of being a brat, you put your hands on the top of the putter and slowly and sensually drop to a squat, hands sliding down the shaft of the club.

Agatha exhales so loudly you can hear her and you shoot her a teasing smile before pretending to examine your ball’s position to the hole. “You know it’s my turn, don’t you?” she says. 

You stand up, rolling your body against the club as you do like it’s a stripper pole. It’s taking a lot of effort not to laugh at the exasperated look on your wife’s face, but by the straining in her pants, your exaggerated stunts are still impacting her. “Haven’t you already come first enough recently?” you ask innocently. 

“That doesn’t even make sense in this context,” she protests and you can’t stop from giggling. You make the putt and so does she. 

Moving onto the next hole, you bend at the waist to set your ball down, giving Agatha a clear view of your soaked underwear, and you can hear her sharp intake of breath from where she’s standing behind you. You’re playing a dangerous game and you know it’s only a matter of time before she starts trying to regain the upper hand. 

You get to the fifth hole before it happens. You’ve calmed down on the teasing because the score is so close and you’re determined not to let your wife beat you, and Agatha decides to try to throw you off. 

You’re about to take the putt when all of a sudden, she wraps her arms around you, hands resting on top of yours, as if she’s showing you how to hold the golf club if any passersby happen to see you.

But what she’s really doing is pressing her hard cock against your ass, pushing you forward slightly so your clit brushes against the putter. 

“Mommy can’t wait to fuck you later,” she purrs and your mind goes blank, an indescribable heat growing inside you. It’s the combination of being worked up by her reaction to your teasing, feeling her cock, and the words she’s whispering into your ear that is driving you absolutely crazy and you whine. Her little displays of power are so fucking hot and it only makes you want to struggle for control even more. But Agatha isn’t done yet. “I love the feeling of your warm, wet cunt around me. It’s like you were made for mommy — for mommy’s cock. I love all your pretty sounds, I love the way you look with my cock in your mouth. Fuck, baby, you’re so hot, I need you so bad.” 

Your breath is coming out raggedly and your head is absolutely spinning. You need to get a hold of yourself and you push your ass back into her cock. She hisses and it helps to clear your mind a little. “God, you’re just a pervert, aren’t you?” you taunt and she gasps and bucks forward. A thrill runs through you. “Getting me all worked up while we’re trying to play a nice little game of mini-golf. You just can’t help yourself, can you? You just need me too bad, right, mommy? If only you could get your cock inside me before cumming.”

Maybe it’s a little too far because she growls behind you and grabs you by the arm, pulling you back to the front. 

“Agatha — wait, what —” 

She whirls around and she looks mad. “We are going to go home,” she seethes, “and I’m going to teach you a fucking lesson about watching your tongue.” You can’t help but feel excited, and it only turns you on more when she barks at the employee who is taking too long to focus on you two so you can return your clubs. 

And then she’s peeling out of the parking lot and going ten over the speed limit to get to your house as quickly as possible. You position yourself so that both your feet are up on the seat with a leg resting against the middle console and the other against the door, and you run two fingers up your clothed slit, making a muffled sound. 

Agatha glances over at you, swears, and then quickly looks back to the road, her face heating up. You chuckle and then your head drops back against the seat when you rub at your clit. “What are you doing?” she asks hoarsely. 

“What does it look like, mommy? I’m touching myself,” you state and her lips part with heavy breaths. “I’m so fucking wet for you.” Your panties are actually soaked and they’re no longer acting as a barrier for your cunt so you’re leaking out the sides of the fabric onto your skirt and upper, inner thighs. 

The car accelerates even more and her hand reaches across to grip onto your knee like she just needs to feel your skin. It makes you clench and even more wetness gushes out of you. You don’t even know how you got to be this much of a mess, but your wife just has a way of making you crazy. 

But you’re not the only one who’s going crazy — a quick peek over the console shows that her cock is straining so much against her pants that you think the fabric might be permanently stretched out. Her cheeks are flushed and her arms are so tightly gripped around the steering wheel that the veins running from her hands all the way up to her shoulders are taunt and blue. You want to lean over and trace them with your tongue. 

A stifled moan slips out of your mouth and her fingernails dig into your thigh, leaving little indentations in your skin. “Mommy, fuck,” you say breathlessly, pressing harder on your clit. “I need you.” 

Agatha fucking whimpers and swerves into the driveway, throws the car into park, and gets out of the car with record speed. You follow her into the foyer, expecting for her to head toward the stairs, but you don’t even make it past the kitchen before she spins around and grabs your cheeks to pull you in for a filthy, open-mouthed kiss. Her tongue tangles with yours and your moan is swallowed by her, but she pulls away too quickly after biting down on your bottom lip. 

She shoves you against the island and her hand pushes you down onto it and you hiss at the coldness of the surface before she flips your skirt up over your ass and spanks both your buttcheeks hard. 

You whine and jump, lurching forward and your clit throbs. “Mommy,” you cry and the pressure of her hand on your back is gone. You hear the sound of her unbuckling her belt and unzipping her pants and you prop yourself up by your elbows, arch your back to push your ass up even further, and look over your shoulder to watch. 

Agatha takes out her cock, hard and red and already leaking everywhere, and you bite your lip at the sight of her pants still on and parted around her cock. “Fuck, honey, you’re so fucking wet,” she rasps in awe. “I’m gonna have to clean you up a little so you don’t ruin mommy’s good pants.”

She tugs your underwear over your ass, giving it another spank for good measure, and then slides them down your legs so you can step out of them. Agatha kicks your feet apart and you widen your stance so she can thoroughly wipe your wetness off your inner thighs and your cunt. An unrestrained groan slips through her lips and you watch with bated breath as her other hand firmly clasps the base of her cock in an attempt to stop what happened last time to happen again. 

“Sweetheart, fuck,” she says, holding up your underwear to the light and you gasp. You have completely turned the once-light gray fabric dark and it looks like they were just dunked in a bucket of water. Her hips jerk into her hand involuntarily. 

You’re almost entirely overwhelmed and you can feel how swollen and needy your pussy has become. “It’s not my fault, mommy,” you say pathetically. 

She huffs out a laugh, giving her cock one quick stroke. “Oh, I suppose it’s mine?” she mocks. “Cause I was being a ‘pervert’?”

Humming, you nod in agreement, giving her doe-eyes to show her that you’re nothing more than the innocent victim here and her face contorts with pleasure as she ghosts the tip of her cock over your asscheek, getting your skin sticky with precum. 

And then she raises your underwear to her nose and breathes in the scent of you deeply, and it’s like you’re watching in slow motion. 

Her eyelids fly open in a panic, knowing that she just fucked up, and the hand around her cock tightens involuntarily before she makes a noise somewhere between a grunt and a groan, frustrated and furious all the same.

“Fuck — no, fuck,” she curses and her hips shoot forward as she cums, a spurt erupting and pooling on your ass and lower back. She continues to rut back and forth against your asscrack, more cum being pumped out from her pulsing cock, and you gasp at how it feels on your skin. Agatha’s hands grasp onto your hips while she rides out her orgasm, looking very embarrassed, until she finally slows her movements. 

Her spent cock twitches where it’s resting on your ass, one last strand of cum spitting out from the tip. You are in absolute disbelief that she didn’t even make it inside you again and you can feel how covered you are in her cum. It only makes the ache inside you get worse and you clench around nothing, a

An awkward silence settles over the kitchen before you clear your throat. “Well, you got further than last time,” you point out, not even sure if it’s the truth.

Agatha scoffs. “You need to learn how to shut your mouth.” Her eyes light up with an idea and she takes your sopping wet underwear, still clenched between her hand and your hip, and mops up the puddles of rapidly-cooling cum on your back. Your breathing gets heavier, the air seemingly getting thicker, and you think you know what she’s going to do. 

She yanks you off your elbows by your hair and spins you around before balling up your panties and pressing them against your lips before you open wide and she shoves them into your mouth. “Clean them up for me, pretty girl.”

You let out a muffled moan at the overwhelming taste of your pussy and her cum and your eyes roll back into your head. She watches with rapt attention as you move them around as you suck on the wet fabric before she reaches down and slides three fingers into you. 

The sudden fullness has you scrambling to grab onto the countertop behind you and she curls them up inside you deep and rough. You try to say something, maybe a beg, but it comes out garbled and neither of you understand it. 

She sets a bruising pace and your head falls back. You’re so wet there’s a squelching noise with each thrust and her thumb barely gets any friction as it rubs against your clit. You’re reduced to begging with your eyes and incoherent noises but she gets the idea. 

The taste of the two of you mixed together and her fingers filling you so deliciously is dizzying and pleasure is already heating up in your body. You’re not sure how much more of this you can take but the steel in Agatha’s eyes says that you’re going to take it all. 

It’s like she’s overcompensating as she drives her fingers into your wet cunt over and over and it keeps pushing high-pitched keens out of your mouth. Her thumb presses against your clit and you clench tightly around her and Agatha’s rhythm stutters. 

“You feel so good, baby,” she pants. “You’re so fucking hot, making me cum twice before I even get into you.” Your moans get more frantic, hips now bucking to meet her thrusts and get her deeper inside you. “Such a good slut for mommy.” 

She leans closer to suck on your neck and then trails down to your chest, leaving marks in her wake. 

It’s too much — you become overstimulated far too quickly and with a muffled cry, you cum all over her fingers when she twists them roughly inside you with a rough nip to your clavicle. 

Her three fingers still move slowly in and out of you until you wince and she pulls out, leaving a hollow emptiness in your cunt. She fishes the panties out of your mouth before shoving her wet fingers inside and making you clean those off too. Agatha’s cock twitches and she pulls her fingers out of your mouth, smearing your saliva all over your cheeks.

“Fuck,” you say, very out of breath, and she hums in agreement. “I can’t believe you came from practically nothing again.” 

Agatha’s cheeks redden and she rolls her eyes while trying to seem unbothered. “It’s not my fault I have such a hot slut for a wife.” 

You smirk and kiss her mouth, slipping your tongue past her lips so she can taste the combination of both of you. “Well, you know what they say,” you tell her matter-of-factly. She raises an eyebrow. “Third time’s the charm.” 

@lostbutlovely33 @diorrxckstar @whoreforolderfictionalwomen  @katekathry @onemansdreamisanothermansdeath @tayasmellsapples @natashashill @mybraininblood @mysticalmoonlight7  @cactuslover2600 @loveem0mo @readysteddiero-nance @lonelyhalfwitch @lesbiantortilla @crescendoofstars @sol-in-wonderland @ahsfan05 @gbab09 @sasheemo @agathaharness @live-laugh-love-lupone @chiar4anna @fuckedupforkhahn @lowlyjelly @sweetmidnights

[oceantornadoo]

happy new years! starting 2025 by finishing this fic :)

ch9 the wrong john | masterlist

john price x f!reader, reader is johnny’s twin

-

“You dropped my hand.”

“Ye lied t’ me.”

You both frown with the same half-slant.

The doctor later found Johnny had some Vitamin D deficiency from his captivity, so you’ve been allowed to wheel him around the hospital garden for strictly one hour, IV still attached. You find a bench to sit on, parking his chair next to you so you can both stare at the ducks in the pond. 

“I didn’t mean to lie to you, Johnny. I just- didn’t think it would get this serious.” He snorts. After all these years, he can still tell when you’re lying. One duck is chasing the other around the pond, wings flapping as they play fight.

“So yer only apologizin’ cuz I found out? Not a good start, hen.” You drag your hands down your face, pressing your palms into your eye sockets until your vision goes black. “We hooked up the night before I came to base. And I thought, big whoop, maybe I’ll tell Johnny so he’ll get off my back about being single, except the guy didn’t even leave a note, so I just look desperate. And then you opened that door and he was your fucking captain! My game plan got fucked.”

You release your hands so you can see again. The ducks are cuddling at the edge of the pond. You sneak a look at Johnny and he’s staring straight ahead, unseeing. “Ye said it was me an’ you. That’s what ye said.” You let out a bitter laugh at his words. “I thought that’s what it would be. I told him at lunch that it wouldn’t work, that I couldn’t do that to you. So at that point, it was just me and you. But then I left and he started calling and he’s just terribly sweet and cocky and I hate it. And then you were gone.”

It’s the first time he’s looked at you since. It’s just a turn of the head, but his eyes are duller than usual and wet with emotion. “Wasn’t my choice, hen.” You give him a watery smile. “I know. This wasn’t my choice either. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I’m not sorry that it’s him.” You reach over to squeeze his hand and he lets you, but he doesn’t squeeze back. “Price can be a persuasive bastard when he wants to be.” The same laugh escapes both of you. The ducks are swimming side by side now, circling the pond.

“Still don’t get why ye didn’t tell me.” It’s the bit you’ve been circling around for a while now. You don’t answer for a second, choosing to pick at a hangnail on your thumb. Johnny’s hand covers yours, stopping your bad habit. “I didn’t want to ruin this for you. I thought What will happen to Johnny if we break up? I couldn’t ruin your new family, not after everything that happened with ours.” He squeezes your hand and you try to ignore the bandages around his wrists. “Yer my family too, m'eudail. The first of the one I choose.” 

A singular tear escapes your eyes, trailing down your face until it plops onto your lap. You turn your hand so it links with his, squeezing back. “Even though you have Simon?” Instead of answering your question, he asks one back. “Even though ye’ve got Price?” Fair enough. You lean your head on his shoulder and he dips to kiss your forehead. “Of course.” You’re not sure who says it, but it doesn’t really matter. 

“I’m sorry I hurt you, Johnny.” He leans his head against yours. “What’s a sister fer?” You roll your eyes, glad to have your brother back. “Dinnae kiss him in front of me. It’s gross.” You shove him off of you, then get up to wheel him back. “You’re so annoying. Don’t pretend I don’t see you and Simon snogging after he yells at people.” The two MacTavishes bicker all the way back to hospital, ducks long forgotten.

-

When you get back from the hospital, John’s doing paperwork in his office. Alone, thankfully. “Go well, sweetheart?” You nod shyly, taking the chance to explore his office. It’s neat but lacks personal effects. There’s only a few pictures, mainly of him in combat gear with various members of the task force. Except there’s a small frame closer to his actual desk that doesn’t fit the theme. It’s a woman sleeping, face half tucked into the pillow. Her back is bare but the picture’s only shoulder up, sparing any real nudity. The hair looks familiar and as you squint, you realize something. He keeps a picture of you in his office.

“When did you take this?” He barely looks up, tugging you into his lap as he continues writing with his other hand. “Yesterday. You looked pretty.” You press your forehead against his sternum, hands folded in your lap. “That was after I cried and then was covered in your cum.” He grunts, pulling you closer into his lap. “‘xactly. Pretty.” You sigh against him. His body’s so protective, muscled with a slight layer of fat that allows you to nuzzle in further. It’s like he works out everyday but doesn’t turn down dessert. You love it.

“You must like me a lot to deal with all this family drama.” It’s mainly a joke, just something to fill the silence. Instead, he drops his pen, pulling you off him so you’re eye-to-eye. Large paws capture your face, his thumbs smoothing your cheeks. “Not jus’ like, baby. ‘S a lot more than that.” Your eyes widen. His are serious, moving fast as they track your every facial expression. “Not just like?” He shakes his head. A few months ago, you would have left the conversation there. After your talk with your brother though, you feel courage seep through your veins.

“What is it, then?” His thumb brushes against your lip, pulling the bottom one until he releases it. Like he’s making sure you’re real, giving you time to take it back. “Love. ‘ve known for a while now, that I love you. There’s no pressure, sweetheart, I jus’ wanted you to know.” It’s the kindest out he’s ever given you. Fortunately, you don’t need it.

“I love you too, John. And I’m sorry for insinuating you weren’t enough for me to date. You’re everything.” He captures your lips in a slow kiss. You pour everything into it: the I’m sorry’s and Thank you’s. His hands stay on your jaw like he’s afraid to let you go. You skim down the breadth of his shoulders, the definition of his biceps, memorizing the feel. “You make me goddamn crazy, you know that?” You smile against his confession, sinking your hands into his hair. “Ditto.” You pull back from his lips to kiss his cheek, his nose, his forehead. You pepper his face until there’s not an inch unkissed and his cheeks flush red under the full force of your affection. “I love you.” It’s freeing to say, to finally give a name to this feeling. “I love you, sweetheart. Lemme finish this paperwork an’ I’ll take you to bed.” You tuck yourself under his chin and let him work.

John proposes that night and you turn him down. Well, you tell him to give you a year. You don’t know he’s got the date marked in his calendar.

-

Unfortunately, one year falls on the day of Johnny and Simon’s wedding. John might be lovesick, but he’s not dumb enough to propose at a wedding. Especially his future brother-in-law’s. He’s officiating, staring at his sweetheart in the front row as he marries two of his men. They promise to love and cherish each other for eternity, and even John can’t help the tear that falls after they kiss. What can he say, he’s a sentimental bastard.

As expected, the party lasts long into the night. Johnny and Kyle rule the dance floor with Johnny occasionally dragging his twin to join them. John and Simon sip whiskey on the sidelines, content to watch the siblings make absolute fools of themselves. “Who woulda thought?” Simon murmurs, almost to himself. “Me, for one. Knew you’d be gone for ‘im when I introduced ya.” Simon scoffs. “Piss off, Price. Me an’ Kyle had a bet goin’ the moment she walked into that office.” They settle into silence, grinning like idiots at their respective MacTavishes.

Hours later, John’s walking with your hand in his and your heels in the other. The grooms have gone all out since there’s a small amount of wedding attendees, so each party gets their own villa. The alcohol has worn off by now, but you’re still giddy, humming the last song you danced to while John leads you back. “That was so fun.” Your smile is practically permanent now, has been for hours. He loves seeing you happy. “Yeah, baby? You had some interestin’ dance moves.” You shove him, but it doesn’t really work since your hands are tangled together. “Shove off. At least I danced.” The only time he danced was with you, guiding you through a few slow songs before Johnny practically took over the DJ booth. “Y’ were beautiful, sweetheart.” He dips to kiss your forehead and you preen under his praise.

John unlocks the door with the key card, walking in first to hold the door for you and lock it after. You turn on the lights, still bubbly and light. “I loved the flowers they had. Do you think…oh.” When you turn to look for him, he’s on one knee in front of the closed door. This time he has a ring, a beautiful creation in your favorite metal. “Let me marry you, sweetheart.” Your throat chokes up. “You remembered.” You’d been almost joking when you told him to wait a year, but clearly he didn’t see it that way. “‘Course I did. Been countin’ down the days for a while now.” You walk towards him until you can run your hands through the strands of his hair, barely sparing the ring a glance.

“Yes.”

“Yea?”

“Yes, John.”

You collapse onto him in a hug, your arms landing over his shoulders until he’s smothered in you. There’s a few tears of happiness between you, such a difference from the time you were crying on a rooftop, in his arms. Always in his arms. “We’re getting married.” You whisper, still not believing it. “Could elope now if ya want, baby.” You chuckle into the crook of his neck. “John Price, you know I want a proper wedding. You’ve seen my Pinterest.” He plants a kiss to the nape of your neck.

“Whatever you want, Mrs. Price.”

-

wow.

we’re done!!!

thank you all for the support you’ve given my first chaptered fic. it meant so much and helped me overcome my nerves. stay tuned for what’s next! <333

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[fluentmoviequoter]

Not So Grumpy

Requested Here!

Edit: Read Part 2 Here >

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!wife!pregnant!reader

Summary: Tim is grumpier than usual, and when you decide to visit him at the station, the rookies get an idea of why.

Warnings: pregnant reader. fluff!

Word Count: 1.8k+ words

A/N: Softie Tim? Softie (and clingy) Tim. This takes place sometime during seasons 1-2.

“Don’t start,” Tim says, sitting beside Angela.

“Whoa, okay,” she replies with a laugh. “Glad to see you’re in such a good mood.”

“That sounds like starting.”

Angela puts her hands up, smiling as she turns away from Tim. “Chen, good luck.”

Tim rolls his eyes, wishing his mornings could go differently. It’s been several weeks of his persistent bad mood, and everyone who has to deal with him is curious about what’s causing it.

“Bradford, can I- could I maybe get you something?” Lucy offers softly.

“No.”

✯✯✯✯✯

You wake up curled against Tim’s side, his arm extended over your waist. His alarm is going off, and he’s smacking the nightstand beside him in a poor attempt to turn it off.

“You have to go to work,” you remind him, kissing his cheek as you move farther up in the bed.

“I’m good,” he replies, sighing as he finds his phone and turns the sound off. “Right here.”

He rolls closer to you, his hand sweeping over your stomach as he looks into your eyes. Tim can be persuasive, but you’ve gotten used to this routine over the last few weeks.

“I’d love for you to stay, I really would, but I don’t think your boss would appreciate it,” you say.

Tim groans, pressing his face against your neck as his arm tightens around you.

“You got clingy,” you tease, running your fingers through his hair and gently scratching his scalp.

“And you won’t let me stay,” Tim mumbles.

“It’s not my fault you wanted to be a cop.”

“You would-“ Tim pauses, sitting up so you can hear him. “You would deprive me of staying at your side during a time like this?”

Chuckling at his dramatics, you push your hand against Tim’s shoulder in a pointless attempt to move him away from you.

“Tim, baby, you see me all the time.”

“Not enough. I’m going to come home one day, and there will be a toddler running around, but I won’t remember any of this.”

You close your eyes and lean back against your pillow. “You have to go to work today so you can come to the doctor with me on Friday, right? Just think about that.”

“I can’t. I can only think of you.”

“You start a family and suddenly you’re the most romantic, clingy guy in the world. Where’d the grump go?”

Tim doesn’t reply as he tries to pull you closer. Rolling away from him, you leave him no choice but to get up and go to work. His disappointed sigh makes you frown; you know he’s being dramatic to cover up how he feels.

“Tim,” you call, sitting up as he walks to you. “I’m sorry. I love you, and I really do want you here as much as possible.”

“I know. It’s just harder than I thought it would be.”

You nod, tilting your chin up in a silent request for a kiss. Tim smiles, shaking his head as he bends to meet you. You pull back before he risks getting distracted.

“The grump is back now,” Tim mumbles.

“Hey! Be nice today,” you call after him.

Tim doesn’t reply, and you know he’ll deny ever hearing you say such a thing.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim slams the door as he exits the shop. Standing with his hands on his hips, he looks at the flat tire before glancing at Lucy.

“I didn’t see it,” she begins, her voice rushed and apologetic.

“Because you weren’t paying attention,” Tim snaps.

“But I-“

“How do you expect to graduate to short sleeves if you can’t even drive, boot?”

“It wasn’t my fault; there was something in the road!”

“Call dispatch,” Tim demands.

“What’s the protocol for this?”

Tim remains silent, leaning against the side of the shop as Lucy racks her brain for the proper procedure. As she radios dispatch and explains the situation, Tim grows grumpier. He’s stranded in a subdivision of Los Angeles with a flat tire that could have been avoided instead of home with you. His conviction about being a cop wanes each moment he’s away from you.

✯✯✯✯✯

Even without seeing the worst of it, you can tell Tim’s attitude has changed lately. His fellow officers and the rookies have been dealing with the grumpiest version of Tim they’ve ever experienced, but you see the clingy, emotional, loving side of whatever is making him act so differently.

After doing a few small chores, which Tim will tell you not to do again, you get ready and decide to pay him a visit at the station. You want to see how he is doing.. mostly, you miss him and want an excuse to see him and hug him.

As you get in your car, you consider calling Tim to ensure he’s at the station and has time for a visitor. He has been protective of you since you met, but it has changed and increased since getting married and throughout the early months of your pregnancy. You shrug, putting your phone away after electing to surprise him instead. 

✯✯✯✯✯

“It would be great if one of you could remember that you’re a police officer!” Tim yells, looking between Nolan, Lucy, and Jackson. “Now you’ve got nothing to say? No excuses? Well maybe you should review those rook books before going out on patrol again.”

He turns quickly, prepared to storm away and find a private place to calm down. When he freezes, the rookies look at one another in confusion. Nolan prepares to speak, and Lucy shakes her head to stop him, unwilling to get yelled at again so soon.

“What are you doing here?” Tim asks.

You step into the bullpen with a smile as Tim rushes to your side.

“Missed you,” you whisper.

“Is that- is she-“ Nolan stutters.

“Pregnant? Yeah. And Tim is… smiling?” Jackson adds.

Lucy gasps, moving in front of Nolan to see better. It’s true: Tim is standing as close as he can, with one hand laid protectively over your stomach while he smiles down at you. His grumpiness, which has made being a rookie nearly unbearable recently, is completely gone, vanished at the sight of you.

“You shouldn’t be up walking around,” Tim frets.

“Then I probably shouldn’t tell you I cleaned the kitchen, huh?” you reply.

Tim shakes his head, his thumb brushing over the swell of your baby bump as he leans forward to kiss your forehead.

“Are you feeling okay?” Tim asks softly.

You smile, moving your chin to gesture to your left. Tim’s brows pinch as he turns, glaring at the rookies until they look away, turning to one another in a fake conversation.

“I’m not going to survive this afternoon,” Tim tells you.

“You’ve been grumpy and mean,” you accuse.

“Look, they’re going to annoy me all afternoon. Stay with me? You can do a ride along. Oh! Or you could go into labor so I can stay home with you for a few days.”

“As great as that sounds, I’m going to pass. I’d like to have a healthy baby when the time is right, not on your schedule, grumpy.”

Tim frowns, his hands on either side of your bump.

“But, I promise to be waiting for you the moment you get home,” you add. “And, maybe, if you just tell them the truth, it won’t be so bad.”

“You’ve never dealt with a boot. Or Angela Lopez.”

“Just because you won’t introduce me.”

“For good reason.”

You smile, raising your chin again before Tim kisses you quickly.

“Be careful going home. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

Tim watches you leave, waiting until you’re out of sight to turn back toward the rookies. He jerks back slightly when he sees Lucy standing right beside him.

“She’s so cute! You’re so cute together! Why haven’t you mentioned her, Tim?” Lucy gushes. “And where do you hide that guy that was with her? I’ve never met that Tim.”

“And you won’t,” he promises.

“I think he leaves that side of Tim with her,” Nolan adds.

Tim’s jaw clenches. It’s true, he knows, but he doesn’t want details of his personal life to become an accepted topic for the rookies. He raises his hand, and they silence.

“Just- leave it alone for now, and I will introduce you the next time she visits,” he offers. 

As he says it, he makes a mental note to ask you not to visit without warning so he doesn’t have to follow through. The lie is the only way to have peace while in the vicinity of the rookies.

“I can’t believe you’re going to be a dad,” Jackson muses.

“You’re having a kid?” Angela yells, running down the stairs and grabbing Tim’s arm.

Tim grumbles something unintelligible under his breath before saying, “Yes.”

“Boy or girl?”

“Don’t know yet.”

“If it’s a girl, Angela is a great name.”

“Oh, trust me, I’ve got a long list of names that are an absolute no-go,” Tim replies, looking between the rookies and Angela.

“How did you figure this out?” Angela asks Lucy.

“She – who is she?” Lucy begins before realizing that she never heard who you are to Tim.

“My wife,” Tim mutters.

“You’re married?!” Angela and Nolan ask together.

Angela slaps Tim's shoulder, frowning when he looks at her with his eyebrows raised.

“I thought we were friends.”

“What gave you that impression?”

Angela gasps, covering her heart with her hand.

“Uh, Tim?” you ask, standing behind him.

He turns toward you quickly, and Angela’s eyes widen as she looks at you.

“Yeah?” he asks kindly, yet another surprise.

“Can you come with me for a second?” You notice the small crowd behind him, officers who seem more interested in you than anything else. “Hi,” you say, waving at them.

“It is so nice to meet you,” Angela begins, stepping toward you before Tim blocks her way with his arm.

“We’ll do introductions later,” Tim says, putting his arm around you and leading you away.

“I’m holding you to that!” Lucy yells.

Tim leads you into an empty interview room, his eyes searching yours. You take his hand, laying it on your stomach. Something happened when you heard his voice earlier, and you want to share it.

“Say something,” you request. “Anything.”

“I love you,” Tim answers.

His eyes widen as he feels the movement of a kick against his hand. He squats before you, moving his hand under your shirt.

“You know who I am, don’t you?” he asks.

You feel another kick, laughing at how your baby already has Tim wrapped around its finger. 

“You promised to make introductions,” you say, interrupting Tim’s conversation with your stomach.

Tim stands, cupping your face in his hands and kissing you. Breathless, you push against his chest as you break away.

“You were right,” you admit. “It would be nice to have you home more.”

“We did it,” Tim whispers, his eyes dropping to your bump.

“I feel like I’m interrupting something,” you mumble.

Tim chuckles, rubbing your back as he leads you to the door.

“Introductions, and then we’re going home,” Tim explains. “Names and nothing more.”

“I would expect no less, Officer Bradford.”

[xoxochb]

percy dry humping aphrodite!reader??

hriejdbkxdjnfbdbd deceased!!!!! need this so bad :(

——— ౨ৎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

“perce, we shouldn’t—” your sentence is cut short by a strangled moan, the friction between your soaked panties and percy’s boxers sending your head into a spiral.

it’s not that you want him to stop, but at the same time he kind of has to stop for the sake of both of your reputations. your siblings were only out of cabin ten for lunch, you knew they’d be back right after, but somehow percy had managed to get to you clothed at the very least. turns out he’s more persuasive than you think because you gave into him unfortunately.

“jus’ lemme take care of you, sweet girl. you gonna let me do that?”

obediently, you nod. though at the moment you can’t seem to find it in yourself to disagree— or as a matter of fact, you can’t do much as you feel his hardness rubbing against your clothed clit, it has you dizzy and in an almost limp state. you tear between stopping him and telling him to continue. in fact, in mentions of that, his pace along you quickens, perhaps he has taken your thoughts into his own brain and realized that shit your siblings will be back soon, you were right.

and you know for a fact that there’s no way in hell percy would simply stop everything right now just because of a possibility, no, what kind of boyfriend would he be then? in his opinion, a pretty shitty one. even through your soft whimper when his hips roll firmly against yours, this only makes him want to keep going further.

“please, we- can’t- we have to-”

you don’t even know what you’re saying. or thinking. your mind is too fuzzy to concentrate on anything at this point. but that doesn’t mean you’re not going to beg percy to stop, you have to before your siblings—

shit. holy fucking shit.

if your poor panties weren’t already drenched to the brim they sure as hell were now! you’re hit with the sudden pleasurable sensation like a freight train. and you thank the gods you came quick within these few minutes because sooner or later you would’ve forgotten how to speak entirely. then you would’ve have been entirely done for.

though you’re starting to think, with the at you feel now, that you already are.

[hopelesslygaysstuff]

October 22 - Forced Orgasm

pairing: dom!Natasha x sub!Reader

summary: Natasha forces you to spill your secrets, and your cum.

content warnings: lowkey kidnapping, interrogation, handjob, reader has a penis

word count: 1.1k+

masterlist

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! happy reading ♡

“God, you look pathetic.” 

Rolling your eyes at the words, you glare at Natasha as she circles you. You would speak, but the well-trained spy had gagged you hours ago. Apparently, she’d grown tired of your ‘smart mouth’, so here you were. 

When you’d signed up to work for your boss, you’d never expected to be interrogated by the Black Widow. Evidently, your boss had been running some super illegal underground operation (you truly had no idea what was going on), and you’d just so happened to be in the office when Natasha had broken in to steal some files. 

She also stole you, forcing you into her car after tying your hands up in the name of gaining more information directly from the company’s employees. You wondered if you could sue the Avengers for kidnapping. 

You wouldn’t say you were particularly… unhappy with how the day was going. After all, you’re on your knees with a gag stuck in your mouth, your clothes having been ripped off by the hottest woman you’d ever laid eyes on. You’d gotten hard during the car ride and it still hadn’t gone down, not even after Natasha had secured a spreader bar between your thighs to keep your legs apart and restrained your hands to the wall behind you. 

Dark green eyes lock with yours as Natasha slowly bends down and crutches in front of you. Your chest is heaving slightly, and you can feel yourself twitch as she raises a single eyebrow. 

“What were you doing at work on a Saturday?” Natasha asks, her eyes glancing down at the way your cock jumps to the sound of her raspy voice. 

“Mmmpphh,” you say, your shoulders sagging slightly at the way her smirk widens. You feel so helpless… fuck, your cock throbbed again at that thought. 

Natasha smiles wider, her hands slowly coming up to caress your thighs, her sharp nails digging into your skin. You look down and watch with her as your cock throbs and twitches as she leaves angry red lines on your skin. You can see the swollen, red tip leaking precum as it jerks, and you resist the urge to thrust your hips forward. 

“You like this, don’t you?” she mutters, her smile wide as you nod. A pathetic whimper escapes you, the sound high-pitched as her hands slowly move from your thighs and toward your hips. 

“Will you answer my questions?”

You almost nod, but then your brain starts working. If you answer her questions, she’ll probably just leave you, unsatisfied and rock hard, as soon as she gets what she wants. 

Shaking your head no, you glare at her defiantly. Her brows furrow, those green eyes narrowing dangerously. Her fingers dig into your hips, and you let out a faint whimper at the pain, your hips rutting forward slightly. 

“Fine, let’s see if you can handle a bit of persuasion,” she growls, her hand finally wrapping around your length. 

God, it feels so fucking good. She’s moving her hand slowly, her other reaching for a bottle of oil. 

Wait. Oil?

Natasha flips the lid open, drizzling the warm body oil directly on top of your cock before pumping her hand to evenly distribute it. You let out a moan, your eyes bulging at the sensation. 

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” she asks, her eyes watching your reactions. You nod eagerly, wanting to thrust your hips, the spreader bar stopping much movement. Her hand moves faster, her grip tightening when she reaches the head of your cock, squeezing it. 

The pressure builds within you, and you’re gasping into the gag as you let out a series of moans. Natasha’s hand doesn’t stop, her fingers wrapped firmly around you as she pushes you towards the brink. 

“Wanna talk now?” she asks, her other hand coming up to tangle with your hair. She wrenches your head up, exposing your neck and forcing eye contact. You shake your head, your breaths shuddering as your chest heaves. 

You’ve never felt this much pleasure before, your cock being expertly handled while you’re unable to do anything about it. After this, you doubt you’ll ever be able to feel true pleasure unless you’re bound and helpless. You can quite literally feel the kink planting itself inside of you, and you let out a pathetic little whimper when her hand moves faster. 

Natasha jerks her thumb over the head of your cock, the body oil and your precum mixing together as you moan and hold back a sob. You’re so fucking sensitive. 

“You don’t wanna cooperate? Fine,” Natasha spits, her hand moving even faster as she squeezes hard. You nearly cum right then and there, but her other hand reaches down and grabs your ball, holding them tightly in her hand and preventing you from orgasming. “Let's see if I can break your will.”

You shake your head, feeling your muscles clench desperately. You hold back your orgasm, not wanting the fun to end. Your eyes water slightly, the pleasure overwhelming as her hand pumps your cock faster. 

“You’re going to cum whether you want to or not,” Natasha growls, her hand moving faster. You groan, and she bites into your neck before murmuring, “Don’t hold back.”

Her fingers release your balls, and they tighten up immediately. You can feel the waves of pleasure becoming all-consuming, the need to cum taking over your brain. Her hand squeezes your cock as she pumps, pleasure emanating from your cock as you feel your orgasm take over. 

Her thumb swipes over the head of your cock, and you explode, spurts of cum covering her hand and part of her thighs. You throw your head back as much as your restraints will allow, your muscles flexing as you moan. The pleasure is all-consuming, her hand working you through your orgasm as you groan and shudder, your arms painfully pulling at your restraints as you gasp. 

Your cock starts to go limp, her fingers squeezing out the last bits of cum as you shudder. She continues to slowly jerk your cock, her movement lazy as she watches you. 

“Will you tell me what you know?”

You nod, your eyes glazed as your body trembles and protests against more pleasure. The traitorous cock between your legs twitches again, already hardening under her touch. 

Natasha rips your gag off, her eyes lighting up as she takes in your tired form. She’s finally broken you down, and she can’t wait for you to spill all of your secrets. Her fingers curl under your chin, forcing you to look at her as you finally speak. 

You smile. 

“I’m just the intern.”

Art by me: do not repost

[earthtooz]

bathing with dr. ratio blurb, gn!reader, nudity but still sfw, fluff, reader is mentioned to be sick, established relationship, 17+ readers only please

“Jeez- could you make the water any hotter?” you hiss whilst sinking into the bathtub, water rippling back and forth due to your entrance. 

Dr. Ratio only chuckles at your comment, clearly amused and entertained by your comments. When you sink fully into the water, his expression morphs into something like content, a muted smugness that makes you huff. 

Perhaps it's due to your stubbornness in objecting him the luxury of bathing together. You know of your lover's affinity for 'books and bathtubs', but never indulged in the latter with him. Today seems like his lucky day, however, because after two sentences of persuasion, you gave in and thus, find yourself here, coping with the outrageously hot water that he likes to submerge himself in.

“You’ll manage.” The purple-haired retorts as a muscular arm snakes around your waist. “Now, come closer.”

Water splashes over the ceramic edge and meets the floor with a resounding splash as you are gently pulled towards Dr. Ratio’s chest. Settling your hands on his shoulder to ground yourself, you give him a glare that he relishes in.

“What? Afraid of a little heat?” Teases the scholar who drapes himself over you, chin coming to rest on your shoulder. “I’m quite enjoying seeing you this flustered, who knew all it took was a bath for you to calm your hothead down?”

“You are far too obscene,” you murmur, finally relaxing against his chest and melting in his hold. He welcomes you readily too, not missing the way he hums happily when you lean into him.

“Whatever do you mean?” Ratio plays dumb because there are a multitude of things he is talented at and pushing your buttons is one of them. If there’s one thing remained constant with him was that he’s a total pain in your ass, even if he’s now your boyfriend rather than most loathed rival. “You’re the one with the cold, baths are good for congestion, I suggested this for your benefit.”

“Sure, Veritas. I'm sure it's only my benefit when the water doesn’t even come up to my chest.” His hands snake down from your torso to your thighs guiltily, as if caught red-handed. 

“I won’t apologise.”

You roll your eyes, not that he can see it. Cupping the soapy water with your hands, you splash some onto your face hoping to relieve some of the blockage in your sinuses. At least the bath is doing what it’s supposed to, you can breathe through your nose again, but you’re also pretty sure that a shower would have the same result.

Either way, with the way your lover holds you against him, relishing in the skinship, a bath definitely provides some additional benefits that you won’t complain about. 

© EARTHTOOZ 2024, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[chuunai]

NEED BSD MEN HEADCANONS WITH THEM EXPERIENCING BABY FEVER FOR THE FIRST TIME

like they see a baby on social media being cute or something like that and they're just like "oh....I??? want one?????"

I’ve been waiting for this one >_<

✧˚ · . BSD men with baby fever - dazai osamu, chuuya nakahara, tachihara michizou, tetcho suehiro, sigma

summary ⋆ ★ mentions of pregnancy, babies babies babies, fluff, established relationship (dating reader), SFW with implied NSFW.

Dazai Osamu:

Dazai would only get baby fever if you two had been together for a while. That he trusts you with his being and heart. He’s lost so many others in the span of a few years, he doesn’t want to lose you too. Or a baby. A family is something that’s unknown to him. The closest thing he had to one was with Ango and Odasaku, but look how that ended up.

But when that video of a baby crawling over to her mama and papa came up on his social media feed one day, something in his mind just seemed to focus on ‘baby baby baby’. At the Agency, all he could think about was his future baby. The dark curls they’d inherit, and your lips and eyes. Kunikida could smack him for all he cared, but Dazai was the one with a girlfriend. And at home, one could say it got even more embarrassing there. Online shopping carts would magically start having baby clothes in them, and a music playlist with the title of ‘lullabies for future baby dazai <3’ appeared as well.

Of course, you ask why it’s popping up. Instead of being smart and playfully brushing it off, the fever grows to a whole new degree where he gets down on his knees in front of you and begs for a baby. He just wants a family of his own. Is it so much to ask for? Someone he’ll love unconditionally and that they’ll love him back. And wouldn’t it be the ultimate gift of your love? Something that came from the both of you and your shared efforts?

By the miracle of his persuasive words (and even more persuasive cock), you had agreed. Dazai could hardly wait for night nowadays where he’d try to stuff a baby into you. His baby. A family with you. The fever isn’t giving up, and a positive pregnancy test is his only hopeful sign of recovering.

Chuuya Nakahara

Chuuya gets baby fever very quick. It’s not his fault that he gets attached so early on in the relationship. You just complete him—the empty side where he questions everything. An answer to his purpose in life. You’re a goddess in his eyes, and he worships the ground you walk on. He also enjoys talking about you and showing you off. It’d be more impressive if he could show off a baby in your belly, though.

He blames it all on his subordinates. The fuckers are young—like him—and irresponsible. The Port Mafia is a soul’s last resort, and so one loses all sense of purpose and dignity. That leads to pregnancies, occasionally. The fathers are also usually part of the Mafia, and so when Chuuya saw the expecting parents walking around, he couldn’t help but think of you. Belly swollen with his seed, tits heavy with milk to nourish his child. He was a goner day one of the fever. The following weeks are discreetly spent reading articles about parenting, looking at cute videos of families and staring at your stomach a whole lot more now.

He tries to indirectly ask about your feelings on the topic when you’re both sleepily intoxicated on a Sunday. Snuggling up to you on the couch while his tired voice asks if you thought you two would be good parents. One hand rested absentmindedly on your stomach, kneading it slowly while you smiled and said yes. Of course, it didn’t mean you wanted one now or anything, but in the moment it sure seemed like you had said that you wanted his baby now.

That’s probably how you two ended up under the sheets, too drunk to remember protection as he prayed for a baby to be conceived. A pillow under your hips while his rolled against yours endlessly until his cum painted your cervix and walls white. He doesn’t pull out either, nor do you push him off. Deep down, he knows you want the same too. A mini-Nakahara.

Tachihara Michizou

He’s a mix of Dazai and Chuuya. He’ll get baby fever quickly after you start dating because he’s known you for so long. You two had been on the streets together for a while and joined the Hunting Dogs together. You’re his family, and he’s yours. It’s always been just you and him forever. Tachihara needs that security in order to even think about a baby of his own.

When he does, it’s when Atsushi randomly gave him a stroller with a baby in it. Tachihara had no clue on what to do when it started crying and Gin teased him for it, but damn did it look kinda similar to you and him. Then that pesky thought entered his mind after work as he tried to get it out. You’re both only nineteen, for Christ’s sake! And you haven’t even been dating for a year! Tachihara’s not going to ask you for one until you’re at least twenty-three together and still happy.

But lord, four years is a painful waiting time. But he knows you’re worth it. That the future baby is worth it. He’ll try and subtly to have you get baby fever too by going to parks more often where parents are fussing over their kids and he’ll make a comment about how you baby him like that and that your offspring will like him better. You don’t seem too convinced, but he’ll change that. Just like how he’s changing both of your future for the better.

His dreams consist of you and him raising a family in the peaceful countryside where no one will ever threaten you again. No crime or tragedy, just you and him. His biological family may all either be dead or hating him, but that doesn’t matter. You’re his family, and you love him.

Tetcho Suehiro

Tetcho doesn’t even know he has baby fever. All he knows is that he’s dating you—his heavenly angel. Everything in his life is good and normal. He has a job he deeply cherishes and loves, friends, and a civilian fiancée. The only thing he wishes for is to keep you happy and content with life and your relationship. A baby’s not on his mind for a while. Why would it? He’s got everything he needs.

But that one encounter with a child he saved from a criminal had him questioning it. The way it thanked him and hugged him got his fatherly side up and running. He thought it was just sweet of the kid to do so. Not that he wanted one of his own. Though his brain was different; insistent and pleading whenever he took you out on that one date and saw you help escort a lost child back to their parents. Tetcho’s a blunt honest individual, if you ask him something, he will most likely say the truth.

So when you see his adoring gaze at you, you ask him if he was okay and he just replies that he wants a baby too. One more thing to add to his life. You’re already engaged, he’s devoted to you forever more. He’ll take such good care of you and the baby. Money’s not an issue, and your relationship is stable and healthy. Isn’t it the best time for a baby?

He still doesn’t see it as baby fever when you tell him it. It’s just natural, right? Reproduction. He’d be a good father, he thinks. And he’ll tell you that until you give in and allow him to be a daddy-to-be.

Sigma

Sigma is also a goner day one. Coming from the Book has always made him feel out of place in the world. He has no mother, no father. No document of birth or a childhood He just came into being from words alone, and that makes him fascinated by you. He admires it, strangely enough. Your womb. The fact you could carry a baby just was stuck in his mind.

Your period is what first started his baby fever. When you first went through it shortly after your relationship began and he thought you were dying, you had to explain that you went through this every month unless you were pregnant. He offered to give you a baby, feeling bad for you. You of course said no, but he still has the offer up. He’s seen some pregnant patrons at the Casino, albeit rarely. Sigma wonders what you would look like carrying his baby. Letting him—a man not born quite like anyone else—do the honors of fathering your first child. Lord, he obsesses over it.

He has to sleep every night with his face buried in your stomach. When he falls asleep, he dreams of your future baby. It’s so bad for him. He needs to know he’s normal like everyone else. And nearly everybody can make a baby, right? If you really loved him, you’d let him try and make one with you too. To prove that yes, he’s human even if his origins are odd.

Sigma isn’t giving up. He’s a determined man with a goal in sight. He worked hard for everything he has in life right now, exhausting both his mind and body to the point of nearly insanity. A reward can be given to him, right? He’s heard Fyodor talk about God, and while he isn’t particularly religious himself, surely God will recognize his actions and give him a baby?

Here’s your meal everyone ! <3

Tags: @twst-om-lover, @xxcandlelightxx, @sinfulthoughtsposts

[harmonictechnicality]

It’s the way Steve places a pin in that damn map of Hawkins. Two fingers, muddy knuckles. Fuck if Eddie knows the actual destination because all he can navigate is the curve of Steve’s index finger as he smooths out the edges of the map.

And it’s stupid, right? Because the world is folding in on itself and he’s looking at a guy in the kind of way Victorian novelists would only describe as ‘longingly.’ It’s objectively stupid. Probably some adrenaline bullshit that a doctor could explain with a brain scan.

The rest of the group has scattered, plotting amongst themselves. Pulling plans out of their asses. Finding layers of courage behind clues and cassette tapes.

Eddie should do that too. Plan. Make decisions. Do anything other than stare at the dirt underneath Steve’s goddamn fingernails.

“Please blink, Munson.” Steve says while clearing his throat. He’s been doing that a lot. Which is, like, understandable after coughing up lake water all night long.

He clears his throat again. “Show sign of life before I ransack the supply bag for that shit you call music.”

“That… shit?” Eddie spits out the words. Briefly forgets his swirly Steve feelings because of the fucking audacity on this guy. “Rightrightright, because Bob Seger is so fucking dignified, huh?”

“Uh-oh.” Dustin murmurs behind him.

“Because Old Time Rock and Roll is the highest ranking of ear candy?” Eddie searches through their duffel bag until he finds Steve’s Vecna Saftey Tape. Waves it around wildly as he speaks. “Forgive me. I didn’t know entry-level chord progressions were considered Carnegie Hall worthy these days. But by all means, call my music shit.”

He throws the tape at Steve’s lap before dropping back down to his seat on the couch.

“Well,” Steve smirks. “At least we know if the music won’t wake you up, mocking it sure as hell will.”

“Guys. Focus.” Nancy steps into the center of the room. Everyone nods, even Eddie. They listen intently to her directions. Henderson doesn’t interrupt her, not even once.

Nancy’s entire demeanor is charged with currents of determination. It’s honestly impressive. Truly. She could convince congress to change the fucking constitution if she wanted. Have the supreme court eating out of her palm with how persuasive she can be.

And the only thing that distracts her, is the same thing distracting Eddie.

Two fingers. Muddy knuckles.

Eddie follows her gaze back over to Steve. Her expression softening when she sees him.

It’s cruel and expected. Cruel that Eddie has to witness such softness, knowing exactly how it feels. Expected because wedding bells can practically be heard every time those two interact with each other. No one can deny that.

But knowing all this doesn’t stop the cruelty from squeezing Eddie’s stomach till his insides feel raw.

He swallows down his flimsy fantasies. Keeps repeating those words from back in the woods:

It’s jealousy, it’s jealousy, it’s jealousy, it’s-

“Hey, man.” Steve says.

Man? Not ‘Nancy, my betrothed?’ Not “Nancy, my muse?”

… Man?

Eddie blinks. Glances up to see Steve looking at him. “Your taste in music isn’t complete shit.”

Which isn’t exactly an apology. But the teasing scratches an itch in Eddie’s brain that he hasn’t be able to reach for a very long time.

“Yeah.” Eddie says. “I guess Bob Seger’s stuff is… intermediate. Assistant managerial-level chord progressions.”

He pauses. Then leans in and adds a quick, “At best.”

They both laugh a little. It’s cut short by Steve clearing his throat again. One of the many reminders that they’re not well.

That nothing they’re going through is fair. Not even in the same universe as Fair. Eddie’s eyes fall to the red markings around Steve’s neck. Wonders if that makes his cough hurt worse.

“Look.” Steve nudges Eddie’s arm. Pulls his attention back into this moment. “We’ve got this, okay?”

Eddie can’t exactly tell if there’s softness in Steve’s eyes - the same kind Nancy gives to him so freely. Or if it’s just regularly scheduled Concern. But it doesn’t even matter because Steve said that.

We.

‘We’ve got this.’

Him and Steve.

And, okay, was Steve referring to a collective ‘we?’ Sure, yeah. Obviously. But Eddie is allowing himself to wallow in delusion while the world’s expiration date remains questionable.

So he aims a lovesick smile at Steve and sighs. “Whatever you say, Harrington.”