#expect photos of this thing at some point though
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krawdad · 1 year ago
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My sister got a sweet articulated cow mask for shockingly cheap somewhere. The ears suck though it's the weakest part of the whole thing. So I'm making some nice respectable cow ears. We are probably going to frankenstein this thing into some kind of progressively more interesting minotaur looking thing over time.
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icewindandboringhorror · 7 months ago
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recent things
#With the heatwave combined with being ill for like an entire week it seems I've lost like 16 days this month#where I basically did barely anything... grrr.... The passage of time... My Enemy...#Now that I can finally hold down food and stuff I'm feeling a little better mostly and my sickness has probably passed. But I still#feel weird a little bit like.. some lingering weakness or something. I think I'm just already having so many Problems at all times even in#my 'Normal' state that whenever I get sick or something my whole system is thrown off for a while lol#I'm supposed to be writing like 2000 words a day still ghbjhb... I've had multiple days of maybe 1000 - 1500. And a lot of days#where I write maybe 20 - 300. I've still been chipping away at the same single quest dialogue for all 20 something#days this month so.. AUGH.. Though that also counts the 16 days I did nearly nothing but be sick and overheated#I finally edited that whole big sims video I wanted to post!!! but now there's an issue with it ... T o T#My fault for still almost exclusively using windows movie maker in 2024 lol.. but HHHHhh.. It's like every once in a while randomly#a fully edited video will not be able to be exported. so evil for this to happen to my first sims build tour in a while. but alas..#ANYWAY... I have been slowly working on little things here and there.. in my little scraps of time.. Wishing to be fully productive at#some point. Maybe I can finally finish and post some things soon. like costume photos or sims videos and etc.#BUT HEY.. that solitaire thing is crazy to me.. I don't think I've ever finished a challenge in under 20 seconds#before. huzzah.. tripeaks squad.. OH.. and an image of#curly tail boye.............. he..... I took him to the vet for a check up and he seems surprisingly okay for a 16 year old. except he has#a mild thyroid issue or something so I'll have to give him medicine. But every time he goes in I'm always expecting them to be like#Sorry. Your Son Is Truly Doomed. or etc. so I'm always shocked when he's fine... a strange boy with many strange behaviors#so I can never tell if he's just Being Weird or if he's sick or soemthing ghjbjh#Also the bad thing about never ending summer heat is that when it IS finally cool for a few days. I don't want to do ANYTHING. It's like wh#n it's hot I feel too sick to do anything. And then when it's cooler I'm like 'OUU the first cool day in WEEKS.. i want to just relax and#fully ENJOY the coolness..'' So it's always constant warfare with my body like.. NO ..we cannot SLEEP. We must utilize this small patch#of Non Heatwave to finally be productive and finish things while we don't feel sick. But then it's like ''ohoho...to lay in the cold air of#the morning restfully.. i shall have a little nap with a blanket on for once.. perhaps.. tee hee'' Always at war with the Tired Sleepy#it seems. AAAANyway...... grr............ slowly finishing things. still usually missing my target writing goals..#Hopefully will have some actual art or costumes or something to post soon. Fumbling through the summer weather as usual lol
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luveline · 21 days ago
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Hi Jade! (I’ve sent this before so ignore if you aren’t into it) just thinking about a bau!reader (maybe shy!reader??) who’s dating post-prison Spencer but didn’t know him before prison and she sees some footage of season one Spencer (maybe they need to refer to a recording of a previous case?) and she’s just dying at how cute he is 🥹
You’ve barely woken up with your face in a solid shoulder when Spencer’s turning around.
“Don’t,” he says when you whine, slipping a familiar hand over your hip. “I’m not going anywhere.” 
“Too early to make fun of me.” 
“Do you think I’m making fun of you?” 
His talking warms your nose where his head is angled down. Your skin smarts with goosebumps as he trails his hand lightly up your back, down again, the slowest, tumbling touch. You shiver, and Spencer, ever so slightly devious in love, says, “Oh, you’re cold?” with great pity as he pulls you closer. 
You rub your face against his shoulder. “Sorry.” 
“Why?”
“I smell.” 
He hums. “Sort of. Not like sweat, though. You smell like sleep.” His lips touch your cheek.
He lets you ‘warm up’ in his arms for a few minutes, then however long you doze for, lost and too comfortable to bother even trying to wake up properly. Your phone pings a couple of times after it comes out of sleep mode, a sure sign you’ve overslept, but Spencer doesn’t make you move until your stomach growls. 
“Come on,” he says, kissing your nose and slipping you back onto your side of the bed. “I’ll make breakfast.” 
“It’s nearly twelve.” 
“You just woke up, and it’s the first thing you’re gonna eat. You are breaking your fast. Breakfast.” He looks pretty even through achy, tired eyes, all the sleep crusted in your lashes no match for Spencer Reid. How you went so long without knowing him is a mystery. 
You get up only because he told you to and because he looked quite lovely when he did it, not because you want to. The bed is warm, that pit of his arms calling your name, but Spencer’s already rolling out of bed with an eager hand scratching through his hair. Sweat has made them tight and a little darker in the back. You’ll both have to shower at some point, preferably after he’s made you breakfast in bed. 
He can see your expectations on your face, and he laughs as he pulls a t-shirt on over his head. “Get up! I’m not bringing it up here, do you know how badly your sleep cycle is affected when you start doing the wrong things in bed?” 
“What counts as the wrong thing?” 
Spencer laughs again, softer now, and for a moment he traces your face with his eyes without speaking. “Fine,” he says, waving a hand at you as he makes for the bedroom door, “stay there. But only ‘cos you look so pretty!” 
“Thank you!” you call back. 
This time with Spencer isn’t enough. You need ten more years of this, thirty, fifty, you need to wake up in his arms and have him touch you and tickle your cheek with his breath. He’s too far to have him come back, so you resign to hugging him when he returns. 
Your phone pings again, drawing your attention finally. The first notification is a reminder to buy toothpaste today at the grocery store. The second is a text from a friend, the third an email. It’s one from last night that piques your interest, another friend, full capital letters: HELP. 
Her use of a laughing emoji defers any urgency. You click on the text thread and scroll up, puzzled by her previous messages, a link, and a caption: oh my god he was so dorky??? 
You open the video and feel your breath catch in surprise. 
Is that Spencer?
You're not stupid, you’ve seen photos of him and his friends together dotted around the apartment from over the years, and every time you come across that photo of him and Diana at a spelling bee with his huge black-framed glasses you have to laugh, but it’s different seeing him to hearing him. 
He’s so nervous. You can’t understand what it is he’s saying, something about mathematical components to profiling criminals. Jason Gideon stands in the background watching him closely. 
“There’s actually a good joke that–”
“Spencer,” Gideon reprimands. 
You watch in awe as Spencer stammers an apology, his cheeks a little pink. You’ve seen Spencer blush, but this feels different. He looks so young. His hair is straight as a pin. 
“Spencer, did you used to straighten your hair?” you call, hoping he can hear you over the sound of a frying pan popping in the kitchen. “Or do you have a perm now, or what?” 
“What!” 
“I’m confused on the logistics of your hair!” You feel something weird in your chest as on screen Spencer tucks a stray strand of hair behind his ear. It’s a mixture of wanting to eat him and wanting to reach through the screen to stroke his cheek with your thumb. 
Spencer treks back into the bedroom with his pink and white pinstripe apron over his shirt and sweatpants. He smells like cinnamon sugar already. “What are you talking about?” 
“My friend found a video of you and Jason at one of those lectures you did.” 
Spencer presses his lips together. For a moment, he doesn’t speak. “I didn’t do any lectures.”
“Uh, yes you did, liar, and you looked so cute.” You turn your phone to him. “So sweet.” 
He marches to the bed. Before you can stop him, he’s taking the phone from your hand, giving you the world's silliest, tiniest shove when you try to get it back. 
“Cruel,” you quip. 
Spencer stares at the phone screen, then you, “Sorry,” he says, turning pink, “I don’t know why I did that, just– I just–” He frowns deeply. “Can you stop smiling like that?” 
You climb onto your knees, a morning disaster, but when you wrap your arms around Spencer’s waist he looks at you like you’re perfect. His eyes soften, brows relaxing, his irises like dark dimes that slowly dilate as he looks you over. Your phone presses into your back, his arm wrapping around you. 
“You were adorable,” you say sincerely. 
“Not anymore?” 
You rub your cheek against his apron. “No, you still are. Let me watch the video again.” 
“Not a chance.” 
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chuluoyi · 11 months ago
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࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 10:00 A.M 」
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SUMMERRR @ohimsummer you’re so responsible for this infinitely adorable idea omg🤧 based on this ask & this video !
a part of gojo's love entries
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“papa. come on. pa-pa~ say it after me!”
sunday morning. the first sight you saw after getting up was another shenanigan staged by your husband—
in the form of him shoving your humongous wedding photo in front of your one-year old boy’s face.
“this is pa-pa~” satoru’s singsong voice echoed through the baby room, full of enthusiasm, pointing at his face in the photo. “pa-pa~ easy right? now…”
your baby merely blinked though, chewing his pacifier in pure ignorance. his eyes—a pair blue marbles—glancing between his desperate papa and the wedding picture with little interest.
“hmph,” satoru clicked his tongue, and then he pointed at your beaming figure in the photo, voice visibly flat. “this is… mother.”
you quirked an eyebrow, totally snorting.
but he succeeded in grabbing your baby’s attention this time, as his crystal blue eyes widened a bit in wonder, staring at you in the picture.
“mother is pa-pa’s wife. she makes your food, nice on some days, but be careful! she can put a ban on our supply of mochi if she is in a bad mood!”
“oh, do i?” you walked over to him with a bark of a laugh, crossing your arms.
satoru made an exaggerated spooked look, mouth curving into an ‘O’. “uh-oh, mama dragon is here.”
“look, you big bully. why are you bothering our baby first thing in the morning?”
“i’m not bullying him! it’s education! he has to see that his papa is the gallant sorcerer—”
“—ma!”
. . .
silence. both of you stiffly turned towards your little munchkin when you heard that little, feeble sound.
your baby and his clear, watery eyes made a grabby motions towards you from his bouncer chair, lips wobbling with effort. “ma—ma!”
...another silence before you snapped—
“my baby!!” you squealed, immediately plucking him, giving and smothering him with the tightest hug and kisses, whereas satoru’s jaw dropped to the depths of soil behind you. “kyaaaa~! i love you soooo much!”
“h-how—!”
“i definitely didn’t go through the pain of giving birth to you so you can call your deadbeat papa first!”
“—?! hey! i’m fully responsible for child support!”
and so you left him in his sorrows, walking out while cooing at your bundle of joy, leaving trails of your baby son’s happy giggles along the way as your defeated husband, who felt so betrayed, sulked in the background.
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epilogue
“come on… just once, please? say papa.”
this time, satoru has his baby son open a book beside him, as he points at the father figure in that storybook, still urging his mini-him to call him.
but contrary to his expectations, his little boy just aggressively turned the pages over, only seemingly interested in seeing the illustrations on each page.
“papa. come on, buddy, hmm?” he prodded his chubby arms and tickled his tummy, and once again, his prickly baby retorted with—
“ma! ma!”
satoru sighed in defeat, but this time he relented, as the way his son was all energetic while calling you somehow wormed its way to his heart too.
he was still babbling incoherently, and yet this time satoru only pinched his cheeks together. “you sure adore your mama, huh?”
“mwa!”
“yeah, me too, kiddo. me too.”
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lustspren · 25 days ago
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P.S.T INTERLUDES. 1 | Sticky ft Aespa, Itzy.
Male reader x Aespa, Itzy
Special guests: Seulgi, Nayeon.
word count: 16.8k words
tags: o r g y, anal, facefuck, blowjob, ass eating, pussy eating, bi, fingering, squirt, foot worship, creampie, anal creampie, pool party sex, facial, overstimulation, office sex, footjob, idk what the fuck else i don't remember anymore
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To be honest with yourself, you didn't know what the hell was going on in your life or where it was headed. You just knew that you were in a bigger game than you'd like, with very powerful people and surrounded by hungry crows.
The first few days were a mess. The cultural integration contracting company thing had ended up happening for real, and you were the director. Obviously you couldn't run something like that—no matter how much of a facade for dirty work it was— from your apartment. That's why you were assigned a space in a large corporate building in the center of Seoul. It wasn't too big, it only had your office and a small reception area where you had a guy working. A university intern who you quickly hit it off with.
Gunwook had given you a little training course before you started, since you had no fucking idea how to act like a businessman. He had been behaving great with you, constantly checking in on you to see if you needed anything or helping you with minor problems. You appreciated that he genuinely cared, so it wasn't hard for you to start to trust him for real.
But despite having an office, a pretty good salary—because yes, you were on both SM's payroll and your own company's. You were ignorant of the legality of that—, and the great relief of not having a boss (not as such), you still weren't entirely sure what exactly your new role with the girls was going to be.
So far all you'd done were a few minor tasks for various companies, like giving discreet rides to and from dinners. There was one rather fun thing you were a part of, though, and that was dealing with a vengeful ex-boyfriend who wanted to keep some racy photos to himself. Woolim had given you the freedom to handle the matter as you saw fit, whether by fair means or foul. You weren't exactly a promoter of violence, so you settled on negotiating a payment that turned out to be surprisingly cheap. The company was so pleased that they gave you a bonus, and Yeonhee even sent you the photos and videos you had retrieved for her. Hot as fuck, by the way.
You could tell that your only real concern was Noh Jihye, but everything about that was quiet, in an aura of mystery that had you frustrated at first, but meditating on the subject made it stop being an emotional burden for you. That had been her decision, and if she thought that was the best route to take so that you could all get to a better place, so be it.
But damn, you missed her. Too much. It hurt you not to have her by your side. It hurt you not to be able to hug her, kiss her, and see her wrinkle her nose when she smiled. It hurt you not to hear her scold the girls, or go here and there giving orders left and right. It hurt you not to be able to talk to her about the music you made her listen to. Everything. Everything about remembering her hurt like seven hells.
If only there was a time machine. Fuck, you'd pay anything for it.
But speaking of your current life and also time, if there was one thing you were grateful for, it was being able to adjust your entire schedule to your liking and do everything without rushing or external pressure. That was incredible. Especially for your plans for that night. There was just over a week left until the pool party at the ITZY girls' house, but that day you would have Chaery all to yourself.
Yeji and Karina, or rather, your personal therapists, had been of great help to you all those days, helping you to cope with everything in the best way and put your thoughts in order. But at that point you no longer knew exactly what you expected or what you wanted. The only thing you did know was that Chaery deserved to know everything that was going through your head at that moment and how you felt about it, so that she could also tell you what she thought about the situation. Sure, it would be a rough conversation, but even if that night changed everything with her, at least you would have a nice memory to cherish beforehand. Still, you were kinda anxious about it.
You were about to shut down your Mac and close the office for the day. Your plan was to leave early, go to the grocery store and get both fresh ingredients for dinner and soju to drink. But as soon as you stood up, three knocks were heard at your door. It couldn't be your receptionist; you had sent him home an hour ago already.
You frowned and sat back down in your chair.
"Come in!" you said.
Imagine the twists and turns of fate. Against all odds, Kang Seulgi walked into your office. A couple of months ago you would have been happy to see her, but now she just reminded you of the one persona non grata you had. It was a bittersweet feeling.
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"You're a hard man to get a hold of huh?" she asked, approaching your desk with her hands in the pockets of her denim jacket.
“Did you forget what your best friend did or what?” you asked, leaning back in your chair, holding your right wrist in your left hand above your abdomen.
“Of course not,” Seulgi replied, standing just across the desk. “But it doesn’t seem fair that I’m being punished for something I didn’t do.”
“And you’re right, it’s not fair,” you shook your head. “But just looking at you reminds me of the person who manipulated not one,” you counted with your fingers. “But two of my best friends.”
Seulgi sighed, looking up at the ceiling and then back at you.
“My mission here failed before it even started, then?”
You looked back at her silently before looking away with a snort. She didn’t deserve to be treated that way. You owed that woman too much, and you had too many good times together. It wasn’t fair to either of you.
“You know what?” You stood up and turned your back to Seulgi to grab a bottle of Hennessy X.O cognac and two small crystal glasses from your shelf; you placed them both on your desk, one for her and one for you, and filled them. “Come on, have a seat.”
Seulgi gave a small smile and sat down in front of the desk. You sat back down as well.
“Well...” you picked up your glass of cognac and stirred it carefully. “Kang Seulgi. You came here knowing you were going against the tide, so you might as well start talking.”
She chuckled, and picked up her glass to take a sip of the drink. You did the same.
“Oh my, how things have changed huh?” She smiled at you, her lips curled. “You’ve come so far in such a short time. You don’t know how proud I am of you.”
The smile on her face told you that she was being genuine. Maybe she was just messing with you, but nostalgia and your fondness for her were softening you up.
“Thanks,” you smiled back. “But I never wanted to be in this seat, to be honest. I was fine with having a job that kept my visa valid, and I could definitely be doing worse jobs.”
Seulgi blushed and downed the rest of the cognac in one gulp, setting the glass back on the desk with a soft thud.
“Would you pour me another, please?” she asked.
“Sure,” you set your glass on the edge of your side of the desk and stood up to grab the bottle. You heard her shuffling around behind you, but you weren’t sure what she was doing. When you turned around, Seulgi had shifted her position, her bare feet now propped up on the desk. “Oh.”
She flexed her fingers as you refilled her glass, knowing she had your attention.
“Remember your first week as a masseuse?” Seulgi asked as you took your seat again. “You were shaking like a mouse being hunted by a cat the moment I entered that room.”
She smiled and giggled. You knew she wasn’t mocking you; there was nothing but affection behind her words.
“You were my fourth client and my first celebrity client,” you said with a smile, remembering that day. “None of those bastards told me what I was supposed to do with you.”
“But you caught on quickly,” she said as you downed the rest of the cognac in one gulp. “It helped quite a bit that the parlor paid for all my services that day,” she brought her glass close to her lips. “And they warned me in detail that they were testing a new guy before I came in.”
Seulgi laughed, and before you could respond she stood up, grabbed the chair by the back, and rolled it over to your side of the desk, just to your left. She then sat up, pulling her feet onto your lap and staring at you intently.
“Would you spoil me a little?” she asked.
You sighed, not being able to help but bring your hands to her feet to massage them. After all, Seulgi was the one primarily responsible for your little sexual foot awakening. She had the top spot in the podium, easily. Followed by Rose, Miyeon, and Yuna.
“Is it necessary to play with me like this?” you asked, focused on Seulgi’s feet as she took another sip of cognac. “You know I have a soft spot for you; if it weren’t for you my career would have been stillborn.”
“I’m not playing with you, honey,” she said with the glass in her hand. “I’m trying to break down your barriers so you’ll be ready to hear what I’m going to say to you.”
You laughed, shaking your head in disbelief.
“Alright Miss Smooth, I’m all ears.”
Seulgi downed the rest of her glass in one gulp again, now setting it down on the desk with a loud tap.
“Remember when you had me on the table completely naked and you were still in your uniform?” she asked with a giggle. “I knew you were doing your best, but your hands were so shaky you couldn’t figure out a single key.”
“Oh my god,” you sighed, embarrassed. “Are you going to make me remember that?”
“Just listen to me, silly,” she swatted the back of your hand. “You remember perfectly what happened next; I told you to strip and treat me like you would treat any beautiful naked woman in front of you.”
“You also told me it was just you and me in that room and to forget about the outside world,” you continued, remembering every detail.
“And what happened next?”
“I was able to get out of my own head and give you a nice massage,” you smiled, rubbing between Seulgi’s toes.
She slowly moved her other foot up your chest, until she reached your mouth and stuck her big toe inside. It was inevitable not to suck on it; it would be sacrilege.
“I’d say you gave me more than just a massage,” Seulgi said, as she took off her jacket and was left in just the gray t-shirt she wore underneath. “That part was amazing. But it took you time to develop your massage skills.”
As you sucked on her finger, your mind turned on and began to rev like an eight-cylinder engine. How the hell could that woman be so attractive, seductive, funny, and endearing at the same time?
"You still won't tell me what you came to tell me," you said, sticking out her toe for a moment before moving on to the others.
"What I came to tell you is to trust me like you did that time," Seulgi said, and you heard a soft moan come out of her mouth at the treatment you were giving to her feet. "Forget everything outside this office and think of me only as a pretty woman, and let nothing else matter."
You knew that wasn't an explicit invitation for you to fuck her like you did that day, but to simply listen to her like you would anyone else and forget about prejudices.
“Seulgi, just talk please,” you said, reluctantly removing her toes from your mouth. “I’m ready to hear it.”
Seulgi lowered the foot she had in your mouth and placed it next to the other on your lap to take a deep breath.
“Look, I want you to consider forgiving Irene, I’m not asking you to do it now!” she said with her hands raised, seeing that you were about to instantly get defensive. “Not tomorrow either. I’m not even asking you to forgive her for her sake. I’m asking you to forgive her for yours and Jihye’s sake, and in a somewhat selfish way for mine too,” she placed a hand over yours. “You and I have already come a long way together to just throw it all away like this.”
You looked at your hands together and closed your eyes with a deep breath. You lowered your head, thinking about it for a moment, and ended up shaking your head slightly in denial.
“I can’t do it right now,” you said, looking up. “But I’m not closed to it. As horrible as her actions were, I know she’s just another victim of the disgusting chess game we’re all stuck in.”
Seulgi sighed in relief, squeezing your hand.
"Glad you feel that way," she nodded. "Us Red Velvet girls are really sorry for what happened and wanna make it up to you. But only Wendy and I are free and in town right now. So, just let us know when you're free and we'll swing by. Still the same apartment, right?"
“Aha, same apartment where I’ve fucked you in every corner,” you chuckled. “I haven’t seen Wendy in a while. Last time was on a flight back to Canada, and that ended up being my first time on a plane. Funny.”
“Huh?!” Seulgi frowned, mouth agape. "She never told me that! I'm going to kick her ass when I see her."
"Please don't. I want an ass to pound other than yours when you two go to the apartment."
You and Seulgi burst out laughing.
"Well, I've already taken up too much of your time sweetheart, and from what I've heard these past few days, it's very valuable," she then moved her foot a little in your lap, to put it on top of your bulge and squeeze it with her toes. "So why don't you let me make it up to you with a footjob? And who knows..." she bit her bottom lip. "Maybe something else."
"You know I've never said no to your feet, Miss Kang."
Without her asking you unbuttoned your pants and pulled them and your boxers down to your knees. Seulgi immediately put her feet to work: with one she pushed your semi-hard cock back, and with the other she massaged both the underside and your balls. It was the same routine start she always did, but it always made you moan out the same way.
"I remember the first time I did this you didn't even know how to feel," Seulgi giggled, rubbing your cock and tip with both sets of toes. "But then you got hard, just like now, until you started to melt."
Seulgi had you hard in a matter of a couple of seconds, and now while she massaged your balls with one foot she massaged the back of your cock with the other.
“How could I not when you use those feet like your hands?” you gasped, looking into her eyes.
Seulgi turned your chairs face to face, spit on her hand, and brought it to your cock to make it slippery for the next phase. She caught your shaft between both soles of her feet, and rubbed it slowly up and down. There you went again, fuck. That feeling never got old.
“I was fascinated by your cock from the first moment too,” she gasped, staring at you as she moved her feet up and down your cock. “All I could think about was how crazy I was for having it inside my mouth… and stretching my tight pussy.”
“And you did both,” you replied, alternating your gaze between her eyes and your cock. “You liked how I fucked you on the massage table huh? You looked so fucking sexy… all oiled up and moaning like crazy.”
"Oh I fucking loved it," Seulgi moaned softly. She was moving her feet faster now. "I've never been fucked that good in my life."
"And I've never fucked a pussy that tight," you gasped. "And your ass... fuck, your ass was a spiritual ascendancy."
"Yeah," she nodded, rubbing your cock with one foot and the circumference of your tip with the other before continuing. "You weren't merciful at all, I must say. It hurt to sit on it for like two days."
"It was your fault for showing how hot you looked on your hands and knees," you said, before losing the ability to think straight thanks to how good her feet felt. "And threatening me that if I didn't you'd give me a bad review."
A giggle escaped Seulgi.
"You had to be encouraged somehow," she said. "But it was worth it, wasn't it? You came really fucking hard in my ass, and god, your moans were music to my ears."
You had an appointment, you couldn't overextend yourself. You had an appointment, you couldn't overextend yourself. You had…
"Oh god fuck it," you snorted, and jumped to your feet to stand in front of her, grab her face and bend down a little to crash your lips against hers.
Seulgi moaned against your lips as she met them, grabbing your cock to stroke it. You reached down her jeans and unbuttoned them, pulling the zipper down so she could pull them down her legs. Then you reached between her legs, rubbing her slit over her already wet panties.
"I'm afraid we have to be quick," you murmured against her lips. "I have an appointment in a little while."
"How much time do we have?" she asked.
"About ten minutes."
"More than enough."
You helped her to her feet. Seulgi kicked her pants off her heels, and you fell back into your chair. She straddled you, taking advantage of the space in your seat to position her knees on either side of your hips. Your lips met once more, and in the middle of the kiss she lifted her hips, pushed her panties aside, and grabbed your cock to slowly impale herself on it.
"Ohhh god," Seulgi moaned, throwing her head back slightly and wrapping her arms around your neck as your cock forced its way through those tight, warm walls. "I missed this so fucking much."
"Do I still have exclusivity over this pussy?" you asked, hands on that lethal waist. Both of them ran up and down the sides of her torso, caressing beneath her shirt.
"What do you think?" She asked back, giving you pecks on the lips. “Does it feel just as tight as ever?”
With your entire length already inside her you placed your hands on her gorgeous ass and made her start moving up and down. You two loved it slow and deep, and that’s how she did it, her hands stroking through your hair and her moans muffled against your lips.
“Just as tight as a year and a half ago,” you panted, and squeezed both of her ass cheeks. “And what about this ass? Still mine?”
“Baby, all of me is yours until someone who truly deserves me comes along,” Seulgi replied, holding on tight to your head and moving a little harder. “So you can rest easy.”
"I'm not gonna lie, it makes me a little jealous thinking about another man fucking this pussy someday," you gave her a small spank, and pulled away from her lips to bury your face in her neck, kissing and sucking.
Seulgi moaned, her fingers gripping a handful of your hair. She planted her feet on the seat, and began bouncing hard against your cock. Your office wasn't fully furnished yet, so the smacks echoed off the walls and added to your moans.
"That won't happen for a while," she said, bouncing faster and making you moan against her neck in the process. "In fact, you don't even have to worry about it yet."
Without anything else to say, you sought out her lips again, to fuse them with yours in a messy kiss. Seulgi clung to your neck, and you put an arm behind her waist to lift yourself up with her and sit her on the edge of your desk. She spread her legs, and you placed your hands on the desk and fucked her with the sole intention of making both of you cum as soon as possible.
Seulgi broke the kiss and you looked into each other's eyes. Her face twisted little by little, eyes rolled back and mouth half open until she dropped her head back to cum on your cock. You slowed down as she enjoyed her climax, but you picked it up again just seconds later. Not even a minute passed when you felt yourself about to cum.
"On your knees," you said, and took a step back to get out of her.
Seulgi got off your desk and got on her knees in front of you, looking up at with her tongue out. You stroked your cock, tip pressed against her tongue. A few seconds later you came, shooting your entire load inside her mouth.
“Oh god,” you gasped, slowly moving your hand on your cock as Seulgi took every drop of cum onto her tongue. When you finished, she closed her mouth and swallowed it all without hesitation.
“Do you need help with anything before you go?” she asked, her breathing ragged just like yours. You chuckled at the drastic change in personality.
“Just go turn off the lights in the reception area while I get things organized here,” you said, brushing a strand of sweaty hair off her forehead.
“Okay,” she nodded, and turned away from you to get dressed.
When you both got dressed—or rather, she, because you only had to pull your pants and boxers back up—Seulgi went out to do what you asked and you stayed putting everything back in its place. When you finished, you left your office together, and once outside, you both got into your cars and went your separate ways.
You were glad to know that you were on time. The quickie with Seulgi had barely taken up any time, and you had arrived at the grocery store with plenty of time to spare. Within fifteen minutes, you were already paying, and within twenty minutes, you were already in your apartment.
The first thing you did was leave your things in the kitchen and run to take a shower. When you got out of the bathroom, you got to work cooking dinner, with your hair still wet but well combed so that it didn't look like a bird's nest when it dried. You expected Chaery to come any minute, but at some point you were so wrapped up in your concentration on not screwing up the recipe that you freaked out when you heard the door to your apartment open.
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You looked up at the entrance hallway the moment Lee Chaery made her appearance, being as always the ray of sunshine that made you feel at home, with that beautiful smile and those adorable little eyes that sparkled when she saw you for the first time in several months.
The first thing she did was run towards you, round the kitchen island and go straight into your arms with a cute squeal. You hugged her, and she grabbed your face to plant a big kiss on your lips.
"I'm so happy you're back baby!" she squealed, hugging you again with all her might. Then she pulled away again, and her face changed completely before she slapped you. She didn't hit you hard, she just made you laugh. "But don't ever make the girls lie about something like that again!"
“How did you know?” you tilted your head.
“I saw Aespa’s pictures at the airport the same day,” she replied, holding onto your shoulders. “Do you think I’m stupid or what? And Lia is terrible at lying.”
You sighed. The truth is, you didn’t have much hope for her or Yeji and yet they still managed to disappoint you.
“I should have known better then,” you shrugged. “But I hope what I bought you in America makes you feel better.”
You stepped away from her and went to the dining table, where you had the small box containing her gift. You handed it to her, and as she opened it she raised her eyebrows with her mouth half open as she picked up the bracelet.
“Well?” you asked as she detailed each gemstone on it.
“I…”
Her eyes filled with tears. You instantly became alarmed.
"No no no why are you going to cry sweetie?" you gently grabbed her chin so she would look at you as two tears rolled down each of her cheeks. "You don't like it?"
"I love it darling," Chaery nodded, snuggling into your chest. You sighed in relief, wrapping your arms around her. You had almost forgotten how weepy she was. "It's beautiful, really. Thank you so much."
"I'm glad you like it," you smiled, ruffling her hair. "You know I love you, don't you?"
"Yeah I do," she nodded, clinging to you. She then looked at you and gave you a couple of pecks on the lips. "Almost as much as I love you."
"Would you help me with dinner?" you asked. "I feel like I'll screw something up at any moment and I don't want to."
Chaery giggled, and you felt all your energy restored just by seeing her smile so cutely.
"Sure, come on," she nodded.
Chaery went to leave her stuff on the couch and came back to help you, making the next twenty minutes just the perfect therapy you needed to take a break from all the unbearable drama you'd been a part of the past few days. It all felt like months ago, when you and Chaery lived together like any normal couple and were happy with each other, without worries or third parties bothering you.
But something didn't fit. Every time you got a smile out of her, you seemed to notice that that smile instantly faded too quickly. Her body language wasn't quite right either, and that was especially noticeable in how she always had her eyes downcast, something typical of her when she was worried or sad about something. You thought you knew why beforehand. But you didn't want to say anything so you wouldn't have to be the one to burst the bubble.
"Go set the table, honey, please," you told her, seeing that she was a little disconnected from the kitchen.
"Sure?" she asked.
"Yeah, don't worry," you nodded.
Chaery didn't insist much more. She went to the right and went straight to the dining table to set out the plates and glasses. You stayed there putting the finishing touches on dinner, adding the red wine sauce and caramelized onions to the beef steaks and salting the mashed potatoes a little. With everything ready, you went to the fridge and took out the white wine, a Pouilly-Fuissé that you bought for the occasion. After leaving the bottle in the middle of the table, you brought the pans and cauldrons there as well to serve all the food directly on the plates. Chaery helped you by pouring the wine, and in less than five minutes everything was ready.
You sat on the left side of the table, right in front of Chaery. You hoped to do so with a smile on your face, but Chaery was still disconnected from reality, elbows on the table and chewing on the inside of her lips. You sighed, knowing that this was one of those days where she just wasn't going to talk unless you asked her.
"Honey, what's wrong?" You looked into her eyes, tilting your head.
Chaery looked up at you, but didn't hold her gaze for long.
"Nothing," she shook her head. "Later. I don't want to ruin the moment."
"I can't enjoy the moment if you seem more out than in."
Chaery huffed in frustration and looked at the ceiling. She was going to cry again, and you couldn't do anything to stop her eyes from filling with tears in just a couple of seconds.
"Why didn't you want to see me when you got home?" Chaery blurted out, looking into your eyes. "You like someone else now? Fuck, it's Karina right? I haven't been enough for you all this time?"
Tears started to fall down her cheeks. You knew you'd have to face that problem with her, but you didn't expect her to go so far as to blame herself.
"Huh?" you frowned, bewildered. "Honey, this has nothing to do with you! Don't ever think it does!"
Chaery slammed her hand down on the table and leaned forward.
"Oh don't give me that damn cliché about it not being me and it's you!" she yelled. "I know I deserve better than that!"
You hated yelling in your house, but you took a deep breath to not fight fire with fire. Arguments like that were always best avoided.
"It's not like that, honey, it's not like that," you shook your head. "But the reality is that I do feel like I'm hurting you. My job involves having sex with other people, have you ever wondered how that could end? Are you really telling me that you don't mind seeing me having sex with other girls? Fuck, I even have sex with your members, baby. That shit makes me feel terrible."
Chaery stared at you in silence, more tears falling down her cheeks.
"You made me come here to break up with me so you could feel better about yourself?"
"Baby, can you calm down? Those are not my intentions, I swear," you placed your hand on hers on the table. "I'm just having emotional run-ins, and Noze opened my eyes to wanting to talk things over with you. Just that. You're not the problem, nor do I want to break up with you."
Chaery was finally able to take a deep breath and calm down a bit. She wiped the tears from her cheeks with the sleeve of her sweater, and still a little irritated began to eat her steak.
“Go on,” she said, her eyes on her food.
“Well… I basically had this conversation with Jihye,” you weren’t going to tell her that it was in your hotel room, that would lead to more questions that you’d rather not address at the moment. “And something I mentioned led to her making me realize that I’m only fooling myself,” you looked down with a lump in your throat, remembering the real reason for that conversation in the first place. “Not just me, but everyone close to me. And that’s because my job requires me to always give a part of myself to my clients. And… and…”
Chaery interrupted you by reaching across the table and reaching the side of your face, caressing it affectionately with her thumb. Looking up you were met with her face already softened, but still teary-eyed.
“Oh honey, you are a very, very silly man,” she said, shaking her head slightly from side to side. "You're right, I don't know if I've thought too much about the future, but I know that right now I want to be with you. I know that I might not understand you completely, but it's not like my job doesn't come with the same problems. It's different, yes. But it's a commitment at the end of the day."
"But doesn't it bother you that sometimes I can't spend time with you because I'm... you know, with other people?"
Chaery let out a heavy breath and stood up to go stand beside you. She grabbed your face, made you look up at her and planted a small peck on your lips.
"I'd be lying if I said I didn't," she said, running a hand through your hair. "But I already knew what you did before I catched feelings for you," she booped your nose. "You've always made me feel special, and our time together is too. Besides, we all come with good and bad things."
She hugged you, and you clung to her waist, face pressed against her abdomen. You closed your eyes and breathed in relief, just enjoying her scent. That conversation could’ve ended worse, but right now it was going kinda smooth.
“Eat, sweetheart,” Chaery told you with a light scratch on the back of your neck. “Your food is going to get cold.”
You let go of her and were finally able to take your first look at your food. Chaery went back to her seat as you cut a piece of steak and brought it to your mouth.
“I can’t predict the future, no one can,” Chaery said, sitting down. “Maybe this won’t be enough for me someday, but I’m not worried about that possibility. I only care about us right now.”
“You’re too cute for me, Lee Chaeryeong,” you said, after swallowing the first bite of steak. “You’re too cute for this world, I dare say.”
A small smile formed on Chaery’s face.
“Then consider yourself lucky,” she said, and winked at you before beginning to eat as well.
“I already do,” you replied with a chuckle.
And yes, you always did. Every day. For quite a few reasons.
With that out of the way for now, the two of you were free to enjoy dinner in peace. Chaery went back to being the smiley, fun girl you knew, allowing you to catch up on all the things that had happened over the past few months, both in her life and yours. Yours was considerably more dramatic, but she had a few music show gossips from her Cake promotions that were pure fire.
After dinner, you spent the night like any couple would in a normal situation. Of course, your situation was anything but normal, but that didn’t stop you from enjoying each other’s company. First, you laid on the couch watching TikToks for like two hours, and then you played poker card games for like another two. The fun ended when Chaery got sleepy, and if she wanted to go to bed, you went without a fuss.
You were already lying in bed, in shorts and a hoodie as you waited for Chaery, who was doing her stuff in the bathroom. She emerged ten minutes later, in nothing but a black crop top and a pair of pink panties. Months might pass, but you never failed to go crazy for those toned abs and thighs, and Chaery knew it.
"Did you miss this view?" Chaery asked, walking over to you. Reaching the edge right next to you, she turned around and lifted her butt cheeks with her fingers to tease you.
"Oh what do you fucking thing?" you replied, and instinctively grabbed her hips to plant your face in her ass and pepper her butt cheeks with kisses.
Chaery giggled. She let you be happy for a few seconds until she turned around and pushed you by your shoulders back onto the pillow.
"Hey, hey, what do you think you're doing?" Chaery asked, bringing one knee up onto the bed and then laying against the side of your body, her thigh over your abdomen. She kissed you, and you wrapped your arms around her tight body. The kiss got intense within seconds, and you were already groping her ass when she pulled away and rolled over you to reach her side of the bed. "Nu-uh sweetie."
"Oh come on!" you whined with a desperate giggle, even kicking your feet.
"I'm sorry but you have to be in shape for this weekend, baby," she said, getting under the covers and turning her back to you, something she always did to get you to cuddle her from behind. "The girls would kill me if I took you out of concentration for the pool party."
"Not even...?" you ventured. "Not even a little?"
"Nope."
You sighed, harder than a rock under your shorts, but decided not to push her and cuddled her from behind, burying your face in the back of her neck.
"For the record, I'm not going to have any mercy on you when I catch you," you murmured, closing your eyes.
"Uhh, I'm so scared," Chaery replied, and then giggled. "Give me a kiss and let me sleep, okay?"
Chaery turned her face towards you, and you lifted yours to give her a couple of kisses on the lips goodnight.
"I love you sweetie," you said, and settled back down. "Good night."
"I love you too, darling," Chaery replied, intertwining her fingers with yours. "Get a good night's sleep."
The rest of the week was exhaustingly boring. Just meetings with different labels and Gunwook, who kept instructing you on how to behave and how to handle yourself in certain situations within the game that you were once again, unfortunately, a part of. You didn't like starting to think like a man in a suit, but what choice did you have? It was that or lose everything. Sacrifices had to be made from time to time. And to be honest, you were willing to make any sacrifice as long as you didn't lose the life you had.
The funniest thing was finding a package outside your apartment the day before the party when you got home. Opening it, you immediately recognized it as a classic Ryujin move. It was a box filled with fresh fruit, especially pineapple slices, with a little note that said: 'I hope you come with a big appetite tomorrow.'
Now, you were excited, yes, but part of you was terrified of how you were going to survive nine horny people together. Something similar had happened in that hotel room with the Aespa backup dancers and the girls, or on the plane with them and Jihye. But this time it was nine fucking people, nine. Almost double what you had tried so far. All of those experiences felt like triathlons. What the fuck would this be? Climbing Mount Everest with nothing but slippers and a wooden stick?
May God bless you and give you strength, because it felt like a divine test.
As if the pineapple slices weren't enough, that same night when you went to sleep and could finally check your phone in peace, you found text messages from each of the girls who would be attending the party, a mix of dirty messages, nudes, and teasing about keeping up the pace tomorrow. You had excellent material for some self-fun before bed, but you did a great job of willpower to be 100% tomorrow.
The day of the party finally arrived. That morning you woke up late by your standards, 11PM compared to an unfailing 8AM. But you were quick to eat breakfast and get ready to go out and do all the things you had to do before going to the girls' house.
You didn't want to get there empty-handed, so on the way you stopped by a liquor store to buy beer and soju. While you were paying you received a voice message from Karina and Yeji, asking you why you were taking so long and telling you to hurry up. They also attached a single-view photo, which when opened was a panoramic photo of the pool, where all the girls were naked at different spots.
But there was someone else in the photo that you didn't recognize since she had her back turned. She had short, dark brown hair, and a deliciously fleshy body, especially in her thighs.
The fun was going to be crazy, for sure.
After paying for the beer and soju you hurried to your car, left the bags on the passenger seat and stepped on the accelerator to the girls' house.
You arrived in a little over five minutes. After parking right in front of the entrance, you grabbed the bags and got out of the car to go ring the bell. About thirty seconds later Beelzebub and Astaroth opened the door.
"Clothes off immediately!" Ryujin said, grabbing your shirt to pull you inside.
"This house is a no clothes zone all day," Minjeong said, closing the door.
You closed your eyes and let out a heavy sigh as one stripped you from the waist up and the other from the waist down. You knew those two were going to get along, but not this well. It was terrifying to think of what they could be capable of together.
After stripping, you grabbed the bags again and followed them through the garage area and up the stairs, then you turned right, and up another flight of stairs to reach the first floor, where you only had to go through a small hall to get inside the house.
You walked straight out to the pool area right in front, and you didn't know under what rock to hide in when all the girls squealed in excitement when they saw you had arrived. You avoided eye contact with everyone, and with a nervous smile you ran back inside to drop off the bags, leaving behind a round of laughter and chatter.
But as you set foot in the area that comprised both the kitchen and the living room, you noticed a person sitting to your right, on the large couch you once fucked Ryujin on while all the other girls slept. Turning to see who it was, you froze, both from fear and nerves.
Im Nayeon. TWICE's leader and entertainment industry icon, completely naked, one meaty leg crossed over the other and her back straight as she looked at her phone with her lips curved into a small smile. It took her a few seconds to notice your presence.
"Oh, hello," she told you, putting the phone down.
You were flabbergasted, the words blurring in your mouth. That to-die-for body of hers wasn't helping your concentration either.
"A-Ah, uh..." you stuttered, and closed your eyes for a moment to gather your thoughts. "Oh my god, hello," you bowed.
Nayeon giggled, bowing back in her seat.
"There are nine more naked women out there," she said, staring at you. "Why are you getting nervous around me?"
"Because I didn't expect you to be here," you replied. "And well... it's my first time seeing you in person and you're already naked."
Just then you felt someone hug you from behind, a pair of perky tits against your back. Glancing over your shoulder, Yeji gave you a peck on the cheek.
“Consider yourself lucky for skipping all the stages required to see me naked then,” Nayeon replied, now looking at Yeji behind you. “Thank her; she said she was going to top our pool parties, and I couldn’t miss something like that.”
“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t do it on purpose,” Yeji said, taking your bags from you to go bring them to the kitchen island counter. “It’s easy to get you to do things when it involves competitiveness.”
One more person came in with you, and just from glancing at her you already knew who it was.
“Oh, I see you’ve already met,” Rina said, coming up beside you to take your hand and give you a kiss on the cheek. “Everything okay? Did you have breakfast?”
“Yup, everything’s okay,” you nodded, grabbing her waist to kiss her back.
“Oh, you guys are a couple?” Nayeon asked. You didn’t quite understand why.
You and Rina looked at each other with frowns, equally confused. Then you looked at her.
“No?” you both answered.
“Why do you think that?” Rina asked.
“I don’t know, you two look cute together,” Nayeon shrugged.
You took it in good humor, with a friendly giggle. But Rina looked away, probably blushing.
“Hey, do you want some beers?” Yeji asked from the fridge. Turning around you saw that the entire freezer section of the fridge was packed.
“Were you waiting for me?” you asked, also noticing that there were no empty cans anywhere.
"Yeah, we wanted to be together before we started having fun," Yeji replied, pulling out four beers. "You know why."
Yeji came back to you and handed you the beers.
"Why don't you come sit with me?" Nayeon asked. "You have things to update me on. All three of you."
"Me?" you asked, and sat to her right, not too close, at least a leg's length away from you. Yeji sat to her left, and Rina sat to your right. She did stick close to you, thigh to thigh.
"Yeah, you," Nayeon nodded after taking a sip of her beer. "You fucked every single one of us here except me, you must have some interesting things to say."
And you did. The next 40 minutes were based on you and Rina telling anecdotes about the tour, which weren't exactly few. It was perfect, because every few minutes the girls would join you there to add details to the stories, until you were all inside the living room or outside, right on that side of the pool.
But you could already smell that everything was about to get out of hand. Nayeon was really smooth about it, but you could tell she was slowly getting closer to you, until your thigh was pressed against hers. Before that you weren't particularly turned on, but when she put her hand on your thigh near your cock it got hard in a matter of seconds.
Nayeon hadn't noticed yet, neither had Yeji or Karina. But the other girls had, and just to tease you they started doing things they knew would make you extremely horny. Ryujin, Minjeong, and Yuna went to a corner to make out and grope each other; Ning, Lia, and Aeri were at the edge of the pool, splashing water on each other with lots of physical contact, and Chaery was next to Yeji, giving her little kisses on the shoulders and neck.
You were trying your best to hide the fact that you were throbbing, but Nayeon only had to move her hand a little to find your erection.
"Oh, what's this?" Nayeon said, looking down at your cock and running a finger from the base to the tip. "I was starting to wonder how long it would take for you to get hard. Was it me?"
Rina placed a hand on your thigh and gently caressed it, bringing her face to your neck to kiss it.
“You were a key factor, yes,” you nodded, looking Nayeon in the eyes and then scrutinizing her body. “But those sluts over there don’t help.”
Nayeon looked at what you were pointing at with your chin. Ryujin, Minjeong, and Yuna—you’d call them the demonic trio—had gotten a little carried away, and now Minjeong was sitting on Ryujin’s thigh, while she kissed her neck and rubbed her pussy. Yuna was sitting next to Ryujin, sucking on Minjeong’s tits. On the other hand, Ning was sitting on the edge of the pool with her feet in the water; Aeri was in the water, between Ning’s legs, and Lia was sitting next to her while she kissed her. Nayeon finally turned to the left, to see Chaery and Yeji kissing.
"Wow, that was fast," Nayeon laughed, and looked at you.
"Yeah, that's how it is with those girls," you shrugged.
"And we're the only ones not kissing," she mentioned, and rubbed your cock and balls with the palm of her hand.
"Can I?" you asked.
"Can I what, boy? Kiss me? Touch me? Fuck me?" Nayeon raised an eyebrow.
"All of them."
Nayeon chuckled, and wrapped her fingers around your cock to rub it slowly.
"Come here then."
You lunged at her and crashed your lips together. Nayeon grabbed the left side of your neck with her free hand, while slowly stroking your cock with the other. You reached your left arm behind her waist and gripped your fingers to the side of her body, enjoying the soft flesh she had there. You placed your right hand on her belly, and from there she spread her legs a little so you could move down to her pussy and rub it.
Rina added her hand to Nayeon's on your cock, rubbing the base and your balls. She moaned against your neck entirely on purpose, trying to successfully get your engine going. Her tits pressed against your side also played a role in that.
A few seconds after tasting Nayeon's delicious lips you broke the kiss and turned to the other side to focus on Rina. You wrapped an arm around her neck and pulled her into a kiss. She moaned against your lips—this time for real—, and spread her legs for you to touch her pussy like you were doing with Nayeon.
Nayeon didn't waste any time and got off the couch to kneel between your legs, seconds later, you felt her tongue run up from the base of your cock to the tip and then be caught between her lips. To your left you felt Yeji take Nayeon's place, but you didn't feel her hands on you, you only heard her muffled moans in the middle of a kiss with Chaery.
You kissed Rina for a few more seconds until you pulled away and turned around out of pure curiosity. Chaery was straddling Yeji, making out while Yeji groped her all over. Yeji noticed your gaze and broke the kiss. Chaery looked at you too, and instinctively you leaned in to join in a three-way kiss with the two of them.
Nayeon had taken half of your cock into her mouth, and was slowly pumping her head up and down. Rina was quick to settle down lying on her side on the couch, and waited for her turn to also suck you off while you battled with Yeji and Chaery's tongues and lips.
With your hands free again you turned your torso towards the two of them. You placed your left hand on the back of Yeji's neck, and your right hand went to Chaery's ass to squeeze it and spank it. Then you brought the same hand between her buttocks to rub her folds.
"Who's gonna want me to eat their pussy first?" you asked between gasps, since Nayeon and Rina were enjoying sucking your cock together.
"Let it be Chaery," Yeji replied. "I want your cock in my mouth for a little while."
Chaery immediately got off Yeji and stood up on the couch to stand right in front of you, with her feet on either side of your hips and her pussy level with your face. Yeji laid down on your left side, and as she added her mouth to your cock, you grabbed Chaery's ass and made her press her pussy against your mouth.
Your girlfriend moaned, hands in your hair to tangle her fingers there and grab handfuls of it. You squeezed her firm ass, massaging both cheeks and eating her pussy with an insatiable hunger that was entirely due to her chastity with you a few days ago. Meanwhile, the three oldest of their respective groups were feasting on your cock. Your line of vision was blocked, but you knew that none of the three mouths left your shaft for even a second. They were licking, sucking your balls, pumping their lips up and down at different speeds, and kissing with your tip in between.
The house was soon filled with moans, not just from Chaery, but also from the rest of the girls who were having fun on their own. At that moment you wished you had eyes all over your body, just so you could see what was going on with all of them, but you only had two, and they were focused on staring at your girlfriend as you ate her pussy.
You reached up with one hand and added two fingers inside Chaery, slowly pumping faster and faster. Your tongue quickly worked on her clit as well. Within a minute, thanks to both of your stimuli, you had her cumming against your mouth, thighs shaking.
After a small peck to her pussy and her orgasm passed, she settled down and clung to the sides of your body with both knees to grab your face and kiss you. You wrapped your arms around her body, moaning against her lips and then moaning louder when you felt the warmth of a pussy against your tip. As you pulled away from the kiss and looked over Chaery's shoulder, you saw Nayeon with her back to you, leaning on your knees as Yeji lined your cock up with her pussy. Nayeon just had to inch her wide hips down, and within seconds her plump pussy was engulfing every inch of your shaft.
“Oh you weren’t fucking lying huh?” Nayeon asked, you didn’t know who to as she was staring at the ceiling. Her ass reached your pelvis soon after, making you moan at how warm her pussy felt inside.
“I never lie, unnie,” Yeji replied.
“Of course not,” you chimed in. “You suck at it. So what for?”
Chaery and Rina laughed. Nayeon was too enthralled by your cock that you were sure she didn’t even pay attention to what you said.
“Shut up ashole!” Yeji slapped your thigh, making you laugh for only a moment, because right away Nayeon started bouncing up and down on your cock.
Chaery kissed you again, forcing you to stop looking at Nayeon. You grabbed her by the waist, and brought two fingers back inside her pussy to pump them at full speed. She squealed against your lips, hugging your head tightly until you made her cum again. Then she collapsed to the left and fell on top of Yeji, who complained because she had hit her with her elbow in the ribs.
With Chaery on the far left of the couch you had a clear view again, not only of Nayeon, but also of the rest of the scene. The girls had already interspersed themselves with each other. At the edge of the pool, Aeri, Ryujin and Lia were together. Ryujin having her pussy eaten by Aeri and letting Lia use her face as a seat. Not far away, just to the left of the fireplace, Yuna was filling every part of Ning's body with kisses. The only one you didn't see was Minjeong, but that was because you hadn't noticed that she was walking towards Chaery, to straddle her and give her cuddles and kisses.
You didn't understand what the fuck was going on. But it felt like the festival of fucking debauchery.
Rina and Yeji were kissing above your abdomen, and Nayeon was bouncing hard and fast against your cock. The bumps of her ass against your pelvis took the air out of you for a second, but that pussy felt so good that you didn't care.
You didn't know whose idea it was because between so many moans you couldn't hear them, but Rina and Yeji changed positions to be on their backs and with their legs facing you. They raised their feet at the same time, presenting them on either side of your face. The invitation was clear, and you didn't hesitate to accept it. You sucked Yeji's toes first, then moved on to Rina's. This went on for a few long seconds until Nayeon gave a hard downward thrust and came on your cock.
"Oh god it feels so goood!" Nayeon moaned, moving slowly as she shuddered with slight spasms.
Nayeon stood up on still slightly shaky legs, turned around, and straddled you to kiss you again, hands on your shoulders and her pussy pressed against your juice-soaked cock. It was the perfect time to run your hands all over her body, every corner possible, but you particularly fixated on her waist, ass, and thighs.
"Unnie, move," Rina said to the right. "My turn."
Nayeon reluctantly broke the kiss.
"I'm not done with you," she told you. "I'm far from done, actually."
"Me neither," you replied. "I have a couple of ways I want to fuck you."
She grabbed your neck and licked your lips.
"I'll be waiting for you then."
Nayeon got off you and went to Yeji, who was already waiting for her with her legs spread. Rina took Nayeon's place on top of you, but she grabbed your cock and directly impaled herself slowly on it. As she lowered her hips, she grabbed your face and kissed you. You held her close, both arms around her waist until you were fully inside her. You sank down into the seat a little, so that when you broke away from her lips, you had her tits in front of your face, perfect for taking them into your mouth.
Rina started moving, nice and slow at first and then quicker, bouncing her tits against your mouth. You grabbed her ass, urging her to move faster and faster. Several spanks fell, making her whimper in pleasure and move her hips like an expert. A minute later, she planted her feet on the couch and began squatting on your cock, hard and fast while you groped her tits.
She came within seconds, but you instantly took the reins and began pumping your hips up and down, fucking her like crazy through her orgasm, hands under her ass as you stared at her. Maybe you got a little too lost in how hypnotic her facial expressions were, as you didn't notice when she came the second time and when you did.
"Oh fuck!" you groaned, realizing that you were shooting a huge load inside her. "I'm-"
"Don't you dare say you're sorry because that's exactly what I wanted," Rina moaned, shaking on top of you from her own orgasm and also the pleasure that you always gave her when you came inside her.
"Well, a little warning never hurts," you said, pulling her back to you for a kiss.
"You don't have to warn me about anything," Rina said against your lips. "I'm your cumslut and I'm happy to be."
You chuckled into the kiss, holding her tight to you.
"You better get off me, or we'll reinforce Nayeon's suspicions."
"Suspicions of what?" she asked. "We're not dating."
"No, but she’s an annoying woman sometimes."
Rina laughed, and gave you a peck on the nose that was sure to be the defining proof for Nayeon, but luckily she didn't see it.
“You have no idea,” she said, then climbed off you.
Looking to your left you found Nayeon kneeling on the floor again, eating out a spread-eagled Yeji’s pussy. Minjeong and Chaery were right next to her, your girlfriend surprisingly topping Minjeong as they scissored. You stood up and stood behind Nayeon.
“I got this,” you told her, a hand on her shoulder. “I recommend using Minjeong’s face as a chair, she’s a very good girl.”
Nayeon looked at you and then looked at Minjeong, who was moaning like crazy thanks to Chaery’s hellish pelvic thrusts, which you knew better than anyone were lethal.
“She is?” she asked, amused.
“Oh you have no idea,” you smirked. "I fucked her tied up one night at her request. You should have seen her."
"Too bad we don't have ropes handy, that would be fun," Nayeon said, and you helped her stand up so she could sit on Minjeong's face, and not only that, she also kissed Chaery in the meantime, both of them now grinding their hips on different parts of Minjeongie.
You now had Yeji all to yourself. She looked into your eyes, a seductive smile from ear to ear.
"Are you craving something?" she asked, running her fingers between her folds to tease you.
You fell to your knees between her legs. The couch was too low for you to reach her pussy comfortably with your mouth. Instead, you placed one hand on her left thigh and pushed two fingers inside her, all the way until your knuckles were barely out.
"How long has it been since I last fingered you to tears?" you asked, slowly pumping your wrist.
"Too long than I'd like," she replied with a gasp, and glanced over your shoulder at someone. "Oh, look who we have here."
You then felt a pair of firm tits pressed against your back, then a pair of arms wrap around you, one hand caressing your abdomen and the other your cock. Glancing over your shoulder you were met with Ning's sweet gaze, which always showed nothing but love and affection towards you.
"Oh hello sweetheart," you smiled, and reached back to subtly grab her head and plant a couple of kisses on her lips.
"Hey, my love," Ning told you with a small smile. "Go ahead and make her cry."
You looked back at Yeji and started pumping your wrist faster. Ning made sure your cock was getting back to full hardness little by little, being as gentle as possible with you as she pressed kisses to your back and held you close with her free arm. When you regained your erection, Ning spit on her hand and brought it back to your cock to stroke it very slowly. By then, both of your fingers were going in and out so fast that Yeji didn't even know what face to make. It was so much pleasure that she rolled her eyes, holding onto her own thighs until she came. However, you kept going, just as fast and hard, making her pussy sound like a pool splashing from how wet it was.
"Oh my fucking god!" Yeji growled, arching her back and biting her fist. Her mouth was permanently open, and her body paralyzed with pleasure until you made her cum for the second time. But you kept going and going, like a machine that never got tired. "Fuck fuck fuck fuck!!!" she screamed.
She brought her hands to her face for a second, desperate for not having anything to hold on to or a place to muffle her screams. When she pulled her hands away she looked at you with eyes full of tears, which began to fall in no time. Her face was a fucking wonder; she hadn't worn much makeup that day, but you were sure that she was almost as ruined as she was.
Yeji closed her eyes tightly and let more tears run down her cheeks. She pounded her fists at her sides, and between screams she writhed as if she were possessed before exploding with an intense squirt that you didn't expect.
"Oh lord!" Ning said from behind you, watching as Yeji had soaked your entire torso and was still letting out small streams in the midst of a climax that was melting her into the couch.
“I was hoping this would happen a little later, I’m not going to lie,” you said, and pulled your fingers out from inside Yeji. Your right arm was shaking a little; you had used a good amount of strength there.
"What did you expect?" Ning asked you, making you turn to her. You sat down on your ankles and grabbed her waist. "I've never seen you finger someone so hard before."
"She deserved it," you shrugged.
"And me?" Ning gently cupped your face and planted a couple of loving kisses. "I don't deserve a good fuck from my boy?"
"And don't even think about leaving me out," you heard a voice to your left. The voice of one of the three demons.
You turned around to find Shin Yuna crawling towards you like she was a damn cat hunting you. She came to your side, and grabbed your cock to give you a little lick on the chin.
"Do you know how much I missed you daddy?" she asked with a giggle, giving your cock a few strokes, and then looked at Ning. "Would you mind sharing him with me, Nini?"
"You'll do whatever you want anyway," Ning shrugged. "You're exactly like Minjeongie."
"Is that a compliment?"
"Not exactly."
"Me what?" you heard the voice of another of the demons.
"Oh my god..." you muttered to yourself, closing your eyes. By the time you opened them again, Kim Minjeong was standing right behind you, pussy still soaked and hair messy. "Weren't you being choked by a massive ass just now?"
"Well, I made Nayeon unnie cum fast on my face," she replied. "And your cute little girlfriend did wonders with our pussies together."
"And you're not exhausted?"
"Not even a little bit," she shook her head.
"Fine but I came first, bitches," Ning said, and she hugged your head to press your face against her tits. "I know your tricks."
"We weren't going to take priority from you, sweetheart," Minjeong nuzzled her cheek. "We're good girls today."
You couldn't help but laugh out loud.
"Hey! What are you laughing at?" Minjeong gave you a tiny kick on the thigh. She then fell to her knees beside you.
"You two are as good girls as I am a nuclear engineer," you said, picking Ning up and carefully laying her down on her back. Luckily the floor wasn't cold, rather warm thanks to the sun.
"Don't be so exaggerated!" Yuna protested. "I've been a good girl to you more than once!"
Ning spread her legs for you and you got between them to top her and shower her neck with kisses.
"I don't remember a single time when you were," you said, trailing kisses down Ning's chest until you reached the pair of tits that fascinated you and brought them to your mouth.
"I was that time when Ryujinie had made you so jealous that you looked like you were about to implode!"
"That time you had no choice," you replied, licking one of Ning's nipples while she stroked your hair. "But I'll give you that."
Minjeong didn't even dare to protest. She knew she didn't have a single argument to make; anything she said would just leave her further in the mud.
You spent a few seconds giving Ning the proper treatment she deserved, which included kisses all over, caresses, and subtlety. After the little foreplay was over, you stood up straight, grabbed your cock, and took it very slowly inside her, making it as enjoyable as possible for her.
Ning sensually arched her back, letting out a long moan as she took every inch inside her. You moved both hands up from her belly to both of her tits, squeezed them, and moved back down to grab her thighs and press them back. Then you started to move your hips, taking every inch in and out.
Minjeong laid down on Ning's right to kiss her, like she so often did when you three fucked together. But this time there was a fourth factor. A factor that was chaotic and always knew how to show how daring she was.
"Daddy, how much did you miss my pretty feet?" Yuna asked, lying down on Ning's left, only she extended both of her legs towards you to put her feet in your face. Those beautiful, sexy feet. "Don't you want a little taste?"
Oh fuck you did. You caught one of them in your mouth and sucked each toe separately, repeating the process with the other foot as you fucked Ning faster and faster. After sucking each toe you moved on to kiss the soles, then the sides, and finally the top; every part of that pair of feet was worthy of being soaked in saliva.
"And mine?" Minjeong asked, as Yuna caressed your chest with one of her feet. She also moved her feet up to your chest. "What about mine daddy? They're pretty too, aren't they?"
They were gorgeous, yes. But you weren't about to say a single word. Not even dead. The last thing you needed was for those two to go at each other, because then they wouldn't let go of you all day. You preferred to play it safe and just grab her leg by the calf and do the same thing you did with Yuna.
After showering Minjeong's feet with kisses, she and Yuna ran both pairs over every possible area of ​​your body, from your abdomen, to your chest and even the sides of your face. A little invasive, perhaps. But with those two in particular, you felt like you were in heaven.
However, your focus at that moment was on your pretty Chinese princess, and you were doing a perfect job of fucking her just at the pace she loved, while also grabbing her by the parts she loved. She looked into your eyes at one point, and that's when you knew you had to get the girls' feet off you to lean forward, brace your hands on the floor, and pound Ning's pussy hard. She clung to your shoulders, loud moans breaking into a cute growl as she came on your cock.
Ning wrapped her arms around your neck and pulled you down to kiss her, feeling every single one of her spasms just beneath your body. Not wanting you to pull away so immediately, she wrapped her legs around your torso and trapped you for at least another minute, happy to just kiss you while you remained inside her.
"Hey, wasn't all the nights you slept cuddling with him enough?" Minjeong asked. "Let him go!"
"Ugh you're such a pain in the ass!" Ning whined, pulling away from your lips and releasing you from between her legs.
"Wait a minute right there, daddy," Yuna placed a hand on your chest as you looked at Minjeong. "I haven't had your cock in months. Months! I demand to go first."
"Why can't you wait your turn like everyone else!" Minjeong whined.
"I literally got here before you!"
"Ugh fine!" Minjeong squealed, frowning.
"Ha!" Yuna smiled triumphantly.
"Don't get excited, I'll decide how I want to fuck you," you said.
Yuna let out a laugh.
"You say that like it ever bothers me," she said.
"Fine," you shrugged, and all the roughness you didn't use on Ning you used on her to flip her over and put her on her hands and knees.
Yuna was a good girl, yes, but only when it suited her. In that case, she arched her back, spread her knees, and presented her masterpiece of an ass to you. You moved behind her, placed a hand on her asscheek, and grabbed your cock to now take it inside her. She moaned, looking over her shoulder at you, and you gritted your teeth at the feeling of finally getting back into that tight pussy after what felt like an eternity.
With your hands on her absurdly wide yet sexy hips, you began thrusting at a considerable pace right from the start. Glancing around, you saw that the festival of absolute fucking debauchery was still going strong and on its feet. Occupying the couch now was Aeri, on her hands and knees eating Yeji's pussy, while she had Chaery behind her eating her ass and fingering her pussy. The rest of the girls were in the pool area, and from where you were standing you couldn't tell exactly what was going on since the fireplace wall in the corner blocked your view. You could only see Ryujin on top of Rina as they kissed, but you couldn't see Lia or Nayeon.
Wherever they were, you couldn't stop yourself from trying to figure it out when Yuna's grippy pussy felt this good around your cock. With Yuna you had never been merciful, and this time would not be the exception, much less after so much time without being able to put your hands on her, so you put your hands on her tiny waist and pounded her pussy from behind, hard just like she liked.
Ning took advantage of the situation and laid with her legs spread right in front of Yuna, who being the dirty and naughty girl she was, did not refuse to eat her pussy. Minjeong on the other hand was not satisfied with anything other than your attention. She adopted the same position as Yuna on your right, patiently waiting for her turn but also watching as Yuna ate Ning, also giving her advice on how Ning liked it.
You couldn't give Minjeong the attention she required right now, but you could use your right hand to finger her while she waited. She was momentarily happy with that, but you knew this girl too well by this point, so you could read how she felt just by looking at her eyes, and what they were telling you this time was that she needed you urgently.
Luckily for her, knowing Yuna's weak spots as well, you were able to get her to cum quickly on your cock. You slowed down your thrusts, and let Yuna fuck herself at her own pace against you as she rode out her orgasm. After a little over thirty seconds, you slowly pulled out of her and went to Minjeong, taking your soaked cock inside her as well.
With Minjeong, you didn't have to put in too much effort to get her to cum either, it was enough to fuck her hard for a little while, pulling her hair and treating her as roughly as possible until she clung to Yuna, who was still eating Ning's pussy, and screamed to the four winds before exploding on your cock.
"Funny how I know every single one of your buttons," you chuckled, a hand on Minjeong's lower back. "If I wanted to fuck you quick in a public place it would be easy enough."
Minjeong raised an eyebrow and looked at you over her shoulder, breathing heavily.
"Is that an invitation?" she asked, as you pulled out of her.
"Oh hell nah," you laughed. "Knowing you, you'd scream like a whore just to embarrass me later."
"You know me well then," Minjeong said, a mischievous grin on her face.
"Hey, you, slut," you gave Yuna two slaps at the same time with each hand. She squealed. "Get off and let me have her, she deserves me to cum inside her."
Minjeong knew the reasons why it was useless to protest, so she didn't. But Yuna whimpered and moaned about it as she pulled away. You simply ignored her as it was typical behavior of hers, and laid down next to Ning to make her turn her back to you, lay on top of your arm and take your cock inside to spoon fuck her.
Once again, as you fucked her you completely isolated yourself mentally from whatever was going on around you. You held her tight against you and kissed her. She clung to your forearms, moaning against your lips as you moved faster. A minute later she came for the second time around your cock, and then you put a hand on her waist to with a sudden thrust, cum inside her.
"Mmmm so I deserve you to cum inside me huh?" Ning moaned with a hand on your cheek, as you slowly pumped and filled every corner of her pussy. "And why is that?"
"Because you drive me crazy," you replied between gasps, peppering kisses along her neck and running your hand down her body. "And you do indeed deserve it."
"Can I stay with you at your place tonight?" she asked, lowering her voice so no one else could hear. "We have to leave for Europe soon, so consider it a little goodbye."
"Sure," you nodded. "Though first we have to see if I get out of here in one piece today."
Ning giggled, and gave you another peck on the lips.
"You wanted to come here," she said. "Take the consequences."
"That's not much help," you smiled, and slowly pulled out of her pussy.
"I'm not lying either," she shrugged and patted your face. "Your services are needed in other areas. Better get going baby."
"Good luck with those two," you said, standing up. "Oh, good luck with those three," you corrected yourself with a giggle, watching Ryujin enter from the other side of the pool and approach.
"Why the fuck haven't you fucked me yet?" Ryujin pointed at you, as if she were an anime character. Even her voice resembled it.
"Because we haven't matched up yet," you replied, taking steps back. "But I'll be with you in a moment."
You winked at her, but she took a couple of strides towards you to try and catch you. You barely escaped her grasp, and you both laughed. By the time you turned around, you were in front of the couch and the poundable ass society plus Yeji, in the same layout as a minute ago. You stood next to Chaery, who looked at you biting her lip.
“Could I have a taste?” you asked, referring to Aeri’s ass.
“You have to do it through me first,” Chaery replied, pointing at her lips with her finger. 
You grabbed her face and kissed her without hesitation. Chaery immediately used her tongue, practically taking control herself. She rarely did that, only when she was very, very horny, which due to the circumstances did not surprise you.
Chaery separated you from the kiss with a hand on your chest, looked at Aeri's ass and moved away to give you her place. You sat down, and grabbed Aeri's ass with the entirety of both hands, squeezing it and then dropping a couple of hard spanks. Aeri moaned and looked over her shoulder knowing it was you.
"Fuck, it's about time," she said. "Thank god Chaery was benevolent with me and gave me what I needed."
"Ah, so you don't need it anymore?" you raised an eyebrow.
"No!" she said immediately with a nervous giggle, and then shook her ass to tease you. "No, I didn't say that."
"I thought so," you said, and you sank your mouth right between her ass cheeks to reach her butthole and eat it out like you had done so many times during the tour.
Chaery got off the couch, walked to your left and went to Yeji, asked her something in her ear, kissed her and then climbed up to straddle her face. Yeji grabbed her ass, and you knew she was giving Chaery the same treatment as you were giving Aeri.
While you had your mouth and tongue working on Aeri's ass, you brought your thumb between the folds of her pussy and rubbed them gently until you found that spot you knew she was quite sensitive. Finding it, Aeri moaned against Yeji's pussy and clenched her fingers into her thighs.
Aeri made Yeji cum within seconds, and the biggest beneficiary was Chaery, since Yeji tended to get intense when she came, which meant that all of that positive feedback was received entirely by Chaery and her ass, a pretty sensitive spot for her already.
Just to make Aeri enjoy herself as much as possible you put two fingers inside her wet pussy, and in a combined effort of your tongue in her ass and the pumping of your wrist, you made her cum as well between slight spasms. It wasn't the strongest orgasm you remembered her having by any means, but it would serve as just an appetizer for the moment.
"Uchinaga, would you move your big ass out of here for a moment?" you asked.
"For what?" she asked. "Aren't you planning on fucking my ass?"
"You look pretty eager, girl," you patted her ass. "I've got it all under control."
"Fuck!" Chaery complained.
"What?" you asked.
"There's no lube in the whole house!" she said. “I fucking forgot”.
"Bah, it’s the same! We'll do it raw," Aeri said with a wicked little smile.
"But my ass is too tight for that!"
"Muuuuuuch better."
Aeri gave you her space, and you quickly took it. Chaery then lowered herself off Yeji's face, so you could watch Cheshire's face melt with pleasure as you grabbed your cock and took it inside her. You hadn't choked any of the girls today, and you thought it was perfect that Yeji was the first, so you leaned forward, grabbed both of your hands around her neck, and squeezed as you began to pump.
You were still a little sensitive, so it took you a while to get into a pace. But when you did, you were pretty rough with Yeji, not only squeezing her neck but also slapping her gorgeous face and spitting inside her mouth. When she finally came, you let go of her neck, and to comfort her, you leaned towards her and showered her blushing face with kisses.
"If you'll excuse me, I have a couple of asses to fuck, cutie," you said to Yeji, who was so ruined that she couldn't even respond with words. She just nodded slightly.
As you stood up and saw where Chaery and Aeri were, you were pleasantly surprised to see them on all fours on the couch, both of them holding onto the back of the couch with their hands as they kissed and fingered each other. You had to bend your knees a little in order to be level with their asses, but you didn't mind.
Chaery was the one chosen to go first. You were actually a little scared, since you'd never tried to do it without lube with her, which is why you were as careful as possible. She had a hard time, and you were only able to fit half of your shaft inside, but that was enough for both of you to enjoy. Of course, it wasn't the same, but it felt incredibly good in its own way.
After fucking your girlfriend's ass for a minute and a half at a pace that wasn't too hard so as not to hurt her, you switched to Aeri. Unlike Chaery, Aeri didn't show an ounce of pain as you slowly drove your saliva-lubricated cock into her butthole until it was only a couple of inches out. In light of this, you fucked her considerably faster and harder than Chaery, with your hands on her waist and filling her ass with spicy spanks.
The rest of the at least five minutes were based on that, you switching from ass to ass every so often to fuck both equally, in an experience that had you moaning like crazy too. The first to cum was Chaery, as typically always happened. And soon Aeri joined her, both of them kissing while the Japanese girl was now orgasming hard.
When Uchinaga's climax passed, you grabbed your girlfriend and made her stand up with you, to grab her by the thighs and make her jump so that she clung to your torso with her legs. You wrapped your arms around her, holding her tight, and she wrapped her arms around your neck to kiss you. Now instead of entering her ass, you entered her pussy.
Chaery moaned against your lips and tangled a hand in strands of your hair. You pumped your hips up and down, your hands permanently gripping her ass cheeks, fucking her pussy as hard as you had warned her nights before. But from her pussy you quickly moved to her butthole again. After a few pumps there, you moved back to her pussy, and so on until your girlfriend came in your arms.
"You left me last to give me a load didn't you?" Chaery asked, showering the entire left side of your face with kisses as she shook from her orgasm and you slowly pumped in and out of her pussy. "Is that how considerate my cute boyfriend is to me?"
"What do you think?" you asked against her lips, switching back to her ass. "I can't cum ten times without dying, so I have to measure my actions."
"Alright megamind, I don't know what you're waiting for to cum in my ass then," Chaery bit your bottom lip, and dug her nails into your scalp as you continued to fuck her like crazy.
The long-awaited moment arrived in no time. You moaned loudly, and threw your head back as you exploded inside your girlfriend's ass. Chaery peppered your neck with kisses, subtly biting every part she could to mark her territory, and you slowly moved up and down your cock, filling that tight hole with your load.
"It was worth the wait, don't you think?" Chaery asked in your ear, making you remember last night. 
"Oh, quite," you nodded between gasps, already tired but needing to go on a little longer. "But don't do that again, please."
"Do what?"
"Tease me and then leave me with a boner, I hate it."
Chaery giggled and gave you peck after peck on the lips, caressing the hair on the back of your neck.
"You're a crybaby."
"You have no right to say that. Zero."
"At least I don't have to cry over boners," she stuck her tongue out at you. "You fuck me without complaint."
"That's because you take advantage of my weakness for you," you said, walking with her to the couch. "It's not fair."
"Well that's all your fault, I never force you to do anything," Chaery said as you placed her on the couch, next to Yeji and Aeri as the two of them kissed each other.
"No, but you always know what to do to make me do it," you gave her a peck on the lips. "Which means you're an expert at manipulating me and therefore, it's your fault."
"Yeah whatever," she waved her hand nonchalantly, then pointed outside. "Look, they're calling you."
You turned around and looked towards the pool. The rest of the girls were all outside, including Ning, and Ryujin and Minjeong were calling you to come over. You did so, and as soon as you set foot where the sun was shining, the two of them latched onto you and started kissing you all over.
"Well hello again," you gasped, wrapping your arms around the two of them.
Nearby were the rest of the girls. Rina and Yuna were scissoring each other, both propped up on their elbows. Nayeon was on top of Yuna, her face above the other two girls' pussies as Yuna ate her out. A little further away, Lia was fingering Ning, sucking on her tits and watching her moan.
Ryujin and Minjeong each grabbed the side of your neck, moving down your chest and abdomen until they were kneeling in front of you. They brought their mouths to your still limp cock, kissing it carefully as they knew you must still be sensitive. Patience was not exactly their thing, but they took good care of you nonetheless, caressing your thighs and kissing you until they managed to get you hard again.
"You better take advantage of me right now, because after this time I'll be completely drained," you told them.
"Mmm, how about you fuck our faces daddy?" Ryujin asked, grabbing your cock by the base to lick the underside. "And then you have to fuck me. It's not optional."
"I accept," you said, and grabbed the back of her head to guide your cock into her mouth.
Ryujin moaned around your shaft, taking as much of it into her mouth as she could until you began to pump slowly. While you did, Minjeong watched from close by, licking her lips, and you didn't make her wait too long. As you now entered Minjeong's mouth, Ryujin bent a little to get between the two of you and catch your balls in her mouth, sucking on them until you began to move faster.
From mouth to mouth, gradually to faster pumps, you made that pair of demons a messy mess of saliva spilling from each mouth. You forced them both to deepthroat you, first Ryujin, who took you with a few gags but without much complication, and then Minjeong, who did choke on your cock but enjoyed it.
After a few seconds you stepped back, your cock soaked in a thick mix of saliva from both of them. You looked at Ryujin, and grabbed her to help her stand up. Then you turned her around, wrapping your left arm around her to press her against you and taking your cock to bring it between her ass cheeks and penetrate her pussy.
"Oh I missed you so much daddy," Ryujin moaned, reaching back to cling to the back of your neck. Every inch of your cock slid easily inside her, making you both moan. "Don't leave me for that long again please. Not having your cock is torture."
"Unfortunately, that's not up to me anymore, sweetness," you said in her ear, wrapping your arms around her body to press her back against your chest and start pumping.
"I don't care," she said between moans, subtly tugging at your hair as you ran one hand to her neck and the other between her legs to rub her pussy. "I'll visit you anywhere, it doesn't matter if it's your place or your office."
Minjeong entered the equation as well. She stood in front of Ryujin and knelt down, bringing her face to her crotch and removing your hand so she could be the one stimulating Ryujin's clit, only with her tongue.
Ryujin instantly went crazy, undecided on where to grab onto, whether it was Minjeong's head between her legs, or the hand you had on her cute tummy, or the hand you had lightly squeezing her neck. In the end she opted for Minjeong's head, pulling on her hair until you made her cum.
"Fuck!" Ryujin whined, humping against you on shaky, spasming legs. "Don't you want to give me your last load, daddy? I was a good girl today."
"I'm not close yet, baby," you panted. "And Julia still hasn't gotten any love from me."
"Ugh, so annoying!" she whined, and let go of Minjeong's head to let her breathe.
The three of them were identical. It was amazing. She, Minjeong, and Yuna should all be in a special sub-unit, because it would definitely be the bomb.
"Sorry baby," you gave her a peck on the neck, and pulled out of her to go straight to Lia, who was still with Ning near the right edge of the pool. On the way you were forced to completely ignore the sensual way Rina, Yuna and Nayeon were fucking, because otherwise you weren't going to get to your little guardian angel.
Lia and Ning just seemed to be talking and resting while looking at the sky. You laid down with them, right next to Lia, to put an arm over both of them and hug them.
"You don't hate me for leaving you last, do you?" you asked, giving Lia little kisses on the shoulder.
"Nah, I'm perfectly fine, honey," Lia nodded, and gave you a little kiss on the forehead and another on the cheek. "How's everything? Are you having a good time?"
"I'm having a blast," you nodded.
"I'm glad," she smiled at you.
"Nini, nini!" you heard Yuna coming with you. She helped Ning to her feet. "Come!"
Poor Ning had no choice but to let Yuna lead her, leaving you alone with Lia. It was kinda perfect for the moment.
"So?" you asked, running your hand from her breasts to her pussy to rub it slowly. "How do you want me to fuck you?"
"I wouldn't mind staying just like this," Lia replied, and she adjusted herself to press her entire back against you. She also raised her head so you could slide your arm under it. "I've had my boy away for a long time; I think it's best to have him as close as possible."
At that moment another girl lay down behind you. From the way she hugged you and the size of her tits pressed against your back, you knew it was Rina. So you took advantage of the fact that they were together with you to open your heart a little.
"God, you know how much I love you two, don't you?" you said, looking at Lia and then at Rina over your shoulder.
"Of course we do," Rina nodded, pressed tightly against you as she peppered your back with kisses.
"If we didn't know, we wouldn't take such good care of you all the time," Lia said, giving you pecks on your jaw and cheek. "And we love you too, cutie."
Despite the cute, endearing moment, Lia was grinding her ass against your cock over and over, urging you to hurry up and enter her. You kissed her, and brought a hand between your bodies to cup your cock, press it between her ass cheeks, and seek her pussy to slowly take every inch inside.
"Oh dear fucking god," you moaned. Few things felt as silky as Lia's pussy, and you hadn't realized how much you'd missed it until now.
You began to move slowly, your face buried in her neck and your fingers circling her clit, matching the rhythm of your thrusts. Rina lifted one leg over you, and gripped her thigh to the side of your body to rub her pussy against your lower back. Hearing her moans behind you made you break away from Lia's lips and turn your head over your shoulder to kiss her as well.
Lia moaned as she lay against your arm, her body slightly leaning forward to give you a view of her sweaty back as you pounded her pussy faster and faster. Within seconds she was back against your chest, and lifted one leg to hold it with one hand behind her knee. You then planted your feet on the floor, just so you could fuck her as fast as you could.
Rina seemed to still be in her little bubble isolated from the two of you, even though she was using your lower back to rub her pussy like you were one of those cylindrical shaped pillows. That didn't bother you at all tho, especially since she was constantly rubbing her equally sweaty tits against your back.
Lia pulled you back in for a kiss, muffling cute moans against your lips, one hand gripping your left wrist and the other still holding her own leg up. About a minute later she climaxed, squealing and shaking. She pushed her hips all the way back, letting every inch of your shaft be inside her as she rode out her orgasm. You wished you could keep going and cum inside her, but you only had one person in mind that you wanted to give that last load to.
Rina still didn't cum behind you, though, so you pulled out of Lia, spun around, and faced Yoo Jimin. She kissed you immediately, and pulled her thigh back up to the side of your body to hug you. You just had to finish the job, taking two fingers inside her and fingering her until she came in a moaning, shaking mess.
After making Rina cum, you stood up from that sandwich with only one target in mind. The target in question was on her back, being eaten by Yuna and used as a seat by Ning. You didn't see Ryujin or Minjeong out there; they had probably gone inside with the others, but that only narrowed your attention to just those three girls.
"I'm so sorry, girls, but I need her right now," you said, standing next to them.
Ning didn't hesitate to get off of Nayeon's face, who looked at you with dilated pupils and a half-open mouth. She only looked into your eyes for two seconds, because the rest of the time she could only see your cock. Great, because you couldn't stop looking at those perfect, fleshy thighs.
Yuna didn't pay you the slightest bit of attention, so you were forced to grab her by the waist and literally pull her out of Nayeon's pussy like a doll. She kicked, but you calmed her down with a kiss and a spank. Nayeon smiled, and as if reading your mind, she rolled over onto her hands and knees, her head just above the water and her fingers gripping the pool edge.
You knelt behind her, and placed your cock between her ass cheeks just to give yourself a little show. Then you squeezed both of her ass cheeks, and ran a hand up to her lower back.
“Fucking amazing,” you gasped, admiring Nayeon’s meaty body in that position. “I’d like to find out how much this ass can jiggle while I fuck you from behind.”
“And why don’t you find out?” Nayeon asked, biting her bottom lip and pushing her ass back slightly to play with your cock between her ass cheeks.
There was certainly no reason not to. You grabbed your cock, and drove it straight into Im Nayeon’s warm, soft pussy. You both moaned.
“Jesus Christ,” Nayeon moaned with her eyes closed, feeling you fill her with severe inches of hard, throbbing meat. “I’m going to tell Yeji to give me your number because holy fuck.”
“I can give it to you myself, gorgeous,” you gasped, and dropped a spank to her right ass cheek before beginning to pound her pussy at a considerably fast pace.
Nayeon's wide hips were your perfect gripping point, as there was no way your hands would slip off of them. Her ass could actually jiggle, and quite a bit; each thrust was like hitting a well-made jelly, which you found so fucking sexy.
She filled the entire pool yard with loud moans, since you were being just as rough with her as you were with Yeji or Ryujin, covering her pale ass with red marks and pulling on her short dark hair until you made her cream on your cock thanks to her orgasm. You were going to keep fucking her in that position, but you got scared because you almost fell face first into the water.
Nayeon forced you to change her position, and this time you put her at a safer distance from the water to position her on her side, with her legs drawn up to her body. Now you could continue fucking her, with your left hand close to her face so she could suck on your fingers, and your right hand gripping her upper thigh. She came again not long after, and with it came the beginnings of your own climax.
"Can I cum on your face?" you asked between heavy breaths, pumping your hips rapidly.
"You can cum anywhere you want, babe," Nayeon replied, her eyes already weak.
"Then come fucking here."
You pulled out of her pussy, stood on top of Nayeon, grabbed the back of her neck to lift her face up, and bent your knees to masturbate right on top of her. She stuck out her tongue, perhaps one of the sexiest you'd ever seen in your life, and stared at you until you exploded with loud moans, shooting jet after jet of thick cum onto that perfect canvas.
The bunny's entire face was painted white. Paint dripping down the sides and falling to the floor in thick drops. You carefully laid her down again, and without being able to control it, you collapsed backwards, careful not to hit your head. You didn't remember if you had gotten into the fetal position to rest, but what you did remember was that you felt like you didn't have the energy to even move a finger.
A bad thing, because the sun was far from setting, and you were sure that many of them wouldn't want to rest at that moment. In short, men came with that biological weakness as standard. While women could just go on and on.
May God bless you.
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seumyo · 1 month ago
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husband!bakugou thinks you’re a hypocrite
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Photo albums are a way to physically preserve memories. Memories that should’ve been buried with the past—forgotten as the years go by.
Thankfully, Mama Mitsuki lent you Bakugou’s old photo album when you mentioned it in passing. A thick photo album that had “Katsuki Memory” in its title and even a design of a cartoonish bomb, finished in this beautiful silver and gold. Fancy for a baby album, but they could afford it, so you didn’t have much say.
Your husband’s sprawled across the bed with his head in your lap, scrolling through his phone, absolutely oblivious to your scheming.
“Oh my god.”
“What?” Bakugou grunted, not looking up.
“You were… Katsuki, honey, the light of my life—you were such an ugly baby.”
That got his attention. He set his phone aside, sitting up immediately. “The hell?”
You turned the album toward him, pointing at a grainy, slightly overexposed photo of newborn Katsuki. His face was scrunched up, red and wrinkled, his head oddly shaped from the ordeal of birth.
“I mean, look at you!” you said, unable to keep your laughter contained any longer.
He snatched the album from your hands, staring at the photo in question. “Tch, all babies look like this.”
“No, they don’t!”
“Yes they do!”
“Kats, I love you, but I’ve seen plenty of newborns, and most of them are at least kinda cute. You, though? You look like a grumpy little potato that just got yanked out of the ground.”
“Shut up,” he muttered, his ears turning red as he tried to defend himself. “I just got born! Give me a break!”
You doubled over with laughter, clutching your stomach. “Certainly born with a face that only a mother could love.” A face that you also loved.
“Alright, that’s enough!” he barked, though his voice lacked its usual bite. He closed the album with a loud thud and tossed it onto the nightstand. “You’re lucky I don’t blow that damn thing to bits.”
“Your Mom would be devastated. I would be too.”
“Shut.”
You wiped a tear from your eye, your laughter dying down. “I’m sorry, hun. It’s just… I wasn’t expecting that. You’re so good-looking now, but baby Katsuki? He was… something else.”
Bakugou crossed his arms, glaring at you like a sulking child. “Bet you weren’t some perfect baby, either.”
“I was adorable; thank you very much,” you shot back, sticking out your tongue.
“Show a picture or you’re lyin’.”
You showed him a newborn picture of you, and that shut him up. Bakugou had lost the battle and the war—because the gods must have a favorite.
“Fucking unfair,” he muttered, but the corner of his mouth twitched, betraying his amusement. You looked so cute and small. Who knew this little spawn would be his wife someday?
You leaned in, kissing his cheek. “Hey, ugly or not, you’re my grumpy little potato, and I love you.”
He grumbled under his breath, but the way his hand found yours and squeezed it gently told you he wasn’t really mad. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t tell anyone about this, got it?”
“No promises.”
Bakugou grunted. Fucking perfect.
-
“Awe, look at him, Katsuki,” you murmured, brushing a gentle finger across your son’s chubby cheek.
The little boy was fast asleep, his tiny fists curled in his adorably tiny mittens near his face. His resemblance to Bakugou was uncanny—he had the same spiky tufts of blonde hair and a natural pout that made your heart melt. The chubbiness of his cheeks was a bonus, seeing that a healthy son was all that you could ever wish for.
Bakugou sighed quietly, his attention drifting to his son. “Tch. ‘Course he is. He’s my kid.”
You chuckled, glancing at him. “I mean, yeah, but he looks just like you. I can’t believe it.”
“Why can’t you believe it?” He can’t help but ask.
“Because,” you began, your voice dropping into a joking tone.
“Remember when I saw what you looked like as a baby? And, well…”
He narrowed his eyes. That again.
“Don’t start.”
“I mean it, though. He’s adorable. He even has your pout.”
Bakugou leaned forward, resting his arms against the crib, although not putting his entire weight on it. “Yeah, and? You callin’ me cute now?”
“Maybe. But only because you look better now than you did when you were fresh out of the womb.”
“Hypocrite,” he muttered.
“Excuse me?”
“You’re sittin’ there, gushin’ about how cute he is,” he said, gesturing toward their son. “But when it was me, you couldn’t stop talkin’ about how ugly I was. And now you’re all, ‘Oh, he looks just like you!’ Make up your damn mind, woman.”
You bit back a laugh, careful not to wake your baby baby boy. “Okay, fine, maybe I was a little harsh about baby you. But come on, Katsuki. He’s the improved version of you.”
“Improved, my ass. He’s just like me, end of story.”
“He got my eyebrows, that’s for sure. See? Improved version.”
“You have a problem with my eyebrows?” He scoffs in mock offense, crossing his arms.
You leaned toward him, a playful glint in your eye. “Well, if he grows up with your temper and your attitude, I’ll definitely know where he got it from.”
“And if he grows up teasin’ people to death like you, I’ll know where that came from,” he replied, though there was no real heat in his words.
You both fell silent for a moment, your eyes drifting back to your son. The little boy shifted in his sleep, letting out a soft coo that made your heart swell—like it could burst any moment now.
“Hun,” you said softly, your teasing tone gone. “He really is perfect, isn’t he?”
Bakugou leaned closer, resting a hand on your shoulder as he gazed down at your son. His usual sharp expression softened into something almost unrecognizable—pure, unfiltered love.
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “He is.”
You looked at him, smiling. “You’re going to be such a great dad, you know that?”
“Tch. Of course,” he muttered, though the redness creeping up his neck betrayed him. “I’ll be the best dad the world has ever seen.”
...
“Just… don’t let him see my baby pictures in the future, got it?”
You laughed softly, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Your secret’s safe with me.”
For now, anyway.
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taro-bae · 4 months ago
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Twisted Wonderland - Third Years
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Summary: reacting to you falling asleep in their room
Characters: Third Years
CW/Notes: gn!reader, fluff, Slight Book 7 Spoilers! (Malleus's part), mostly written as platonic but its up to the reader
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Trey Clover
Trey makes it to his dorm room after a hustling day of classes and vice-warden duties. He's ready to just sit down and relax his muscles for the afternoon. As soon as he steps inside his room, he recognises a familiar figure lying in his spacious bed on his clover plush. Trey smirks a little amused by your choice of sleeping space. He makes sure the lights are off making his way towards you. He shifts your body to put the blanket covers over you.
Trey is like the older brother of Heartslabyul. He has younger siblings and knows how to take responsibility for others. Taking off his dorm Uniform hat and jacket, he settles at a respectful distance away from you, just resting his eyes with a hand behind his head. He watches you as you stir awake. "Sleep well, sleepyhead?" Trey says with a teasing smirk looking at your slightly dishevelled appearance.
Cater Diamond
After the unbirthday party, Cater returns, eyes locked on his phone as he edits and goes through all the photos he has taken during the day. He walks into the room, still looking down at his phone until he notices a silhouette hugging his smily plushie. Cater immediately goes to his camera, tip toeing towards the bed.
He takes multiple photos thinking just how cute you look with your cheek flushed and soft against the pillow. Cater hovers over you to snap different angles and profiles. "Aww, such a cutie~" Their cheeks look so soft, " He thinks in his head, trying not to wake you up. He reaches over to poke your cheek, snapping a picture at the same time. Minutes later, you are on Magicam for everyone to see, and Cater has no shame. There are plenty hashtags describing just how cute he thinks you like #sleepingbeauty #cutiepatootie #sweetcheeks
Leona Kingscholar
Leona is not pleased. Leona did sense you before even making it into his room by your scent. He scowls, seeing the person lying in his bed. "Stupid herbivore" His tail swishing behind him in annoyance. "Oi, wake up" Leona says bluntly, standing over you. When you refuse to get out and won't budge he lets out a frustrated sigh. "Move over. Now".
Leona slumps over on the bed, spreding his limbs out. He doesn't care at this point. He shifts over, pulling you into his body. "Since ya not gonna listen, you'll be my pillow," He says in a gruff voice. His tail is thumping against the mattress, but he likes how comfortable this is. He will never admit it, though. Leona has a sense of pride that you're not afraid to be near him, let alone dare fall asleep in his room. "Not a word or ya out. I need my nap". He's out within seconds.
Rook Hunt
Rook already knew you were in his room. Most likely, it was his works doing, a set up to get you into his room. Being a hunter, he knows exactly what's happening were and he keeps his diligent eyes on you. Rook returns to his room, where you sleep with an adoring look on his face. "Such a darling, Mon ange ♡" He's absolutely mesmerised by your beauty and peaceful, vulnerable state. He sees beauty in everything. To him, you're like a work of art in itself.
Rook watches over your sleeping face and body. The way your body rises with each breath to the small movement of your face. He takes in every detail. At some point, he takes out his phone to snap a few photos of you. He's so stealthy you'll never know he did. Just be warned you'll end up on his secret wall behind the wallpaper in his room. He's a questionable one.
Vil Schoenheit
The last thing Vil expects is to find someone in his room when he returns. Let alone finding someone in his bed, that's just unacceptable. He lets out a small cough before he speaks, "Wake up this instant." Vil makes his way across the room. "You mustn't sleep in such attire, and sevens forbid in my bed. One must always wear clean pyjamas and do a proper skin and hair routine prior. Which you clearly have not done."
Vil would scold you and point out your eyebags or tired look, warning about the consequences of overworking yourself. You have no choice but to follow through with his routine as he applies beauty products on your face and hair. If you complied well, he might just let you stay and rest up. "Very well...I'll permit you to stay. But don't make a habit out of this. " His voice is authorative, but without a bite to it. Vil actually secretly enjoys pampering you with some self-care and sharing his knowledge.
Idia Shroud
What was he doing out of his room in the first place? Who knows. When Idia comes back, it's an instant panic and internal turmoil. He nearly yelled but slapped his hands over his mouth. "What are they doing here! This can't be happening IRL! What do I do? They'll be mad if I wake them up!" He is slouched over, fiddling with his hoodie string, trying to decide what to do. His heart is pounding in his chest, the phrase "why me? Why my room?" Running through his head at a hundred miles per hour.
He can't help but stare at you, a small smile tugging at his blue lips. "No, stop! That's creepy. Cringe behaviour. They'll think you are a creep!" Idia snaps himself out of the trance but can't bring himself to wake you up. He huddles over near his desk, distracting himself with a game occasionally glancing at you sleeping with the ends of his hair pink.
Malleus Draconia
Malleus is surprised to find anyone in his room. He appears looming over the sleeping form eyes slightly widened as he observes your state. Malleus is rather glad that you're here, making his room seem less lonely. He is pleased that you are not afraid of him and comfortable enough to sleep not only in his room but remain asleep in his presence.
Malleus ensures the room suits your comfort, moving the blankets over you. "You're an interesting cause, child of man. A truly endearing sight." Malleus watches over you, ensuring you only have pleasing dreams and a deserved rest. After a short passing of time, He starts humming a melody. A lullaby.
"My eyes are watching over you still, let’s be together. With no fear, even if we wake from this dream"
His low voice echoes through the room, sensing you into a deeper sleep. That guaranteed would be the best sleep of your life.
Lilia Vanrouge
His room is a mess stuffed with artefacts and the most random things. Lilia finds you tired and fast asleep in his room. He sees this as a perfect opportunity to give you a little scare. Hanging off the ceiling, he yells out a "boo!" Causing you to wake up. "Khee hee," he plays it off by acting cute. "Fu-fu~ look at you all worn out, little one." Lilia doesn't miss a chance to tease you.
His red eyes sparkle with mischief. "Oh, I'm just messing around. Go back to sleep, I'll watch over you~" Says the man who just woke you up for giggles. Once you're off to sleep again, Lilias caring side steps in. He ensures you are safe and well rested, letting you sleep in his room, even on him, as he pats your head affectionately. Lilia is very parental and will guard your sleep from any nightmares.
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reiding-writing · 9 days ago
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𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐝’𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐭.
a case involving female students being murdered in their dormitories brings the team to stanford university. You have more of a connection to it than you originally realise.
cold!reader ❅ 8.4k ❅ cold!reader masterlist. ❅ main masterlist.
CW | typical criminal minds violence, violence against women, detail of murder and injury, abuse of power, student-professor relationships, miscarriage and abortion, character death, manipulation, cynicism
“Three women, all doctorate students of Stanford University, have all been killed inside their dorm rooms in the last two weeks,” There’s a click of a button, and then three images flash up on the screen, headshots of the girls. “All three were found with their stomachs cut open and their reproductive organs removed,”
What a lovely way to start a Monday morning.
“So much for the best University in California,” Morgan nudges your arm with his elbow, and your roll your eyes.
“What was the medical knowledge of the unsub?”
“You tell me,” JJ clicks another button on her remote, and the smiling photos of the victims are replaced with their crime scene photos.
Hands and feet tied to their beds, a large incision at the pelvic bone that had been stretched open to leave the internal organs bare, and the uterus cut out of the body. The surface knowledge was there, but the execution was not. Messy lines and uneven incisions that left the gap left in the victims more blood and tissue than actual hole.
“So we’re not looking for a professional then,” Morgan points out the obvious with a cross of his arms, leaning back in his chair.
“They clearly know something about it though,” Spencer leans forward as Morgan leans back, squinting his eyes like it’s going to make the images clearer. “There’s several different ways to perform a hysterectomy, but for a complete hysterectomy like our unsub is doing, the most common method is to start with an incision just above the pelvic bone,”
We’ll discuss the details of hysterectomies whilst we’re on the plane,” Hotch taps both of his hands on the table as he stands. “Gather your things, wheels up in thirty,”
There’s a chorus of “Yes Sir,”s as you all follow him out of the conference room to return to your respective desks and gather your belongings for the flight, an air of fatigue still surrounding the group even through the graphic imagery you were presented with.
“Going back to your alma mater, how do you feel?” Morgan clasps his right hand into a fist and holds it out to you like an invisible microphone.
You push it away without much thought as you pack your laptop into your bag, rolling your eyes at him for what feels like the tenth time since you’d walked through the door an hour ago. “It’s been almost— no, it has been ten years since I graduated, what’s there to ‘feel’?”
“Okay robot face, damn, no lingering love for the College that gave you your career?” Morgan’s taunt is laced with that familiar air of light-heartedness that’s there to remind you that he really is just poking fun, but you’ve never been very receptive to his humour.
“No.”
He lets out a sharp laugh in a mix of amusement and surprise, opening his mouth to make another comment, but the expression on your face tells him you’re definitely done talking about the topic.
He does have some self restraint.
Stepping out of the San Jose International Airport almost felt like going into a time machine, spitting you right back out where you’d left that decade ago just 18 miles from your old campus.
It felt even more surreal actually reaching Stanford’s main site, walking around the place you’d dedicated four years of your life to. Not much had changed since you’d left, not that you really expected it to, but it felt almost foreign to you to walk around the campus as you were now, a properly matured adult compared to the almost naive teenager you started as.
You began where you always did, at the most recent crime scene, a college dorm room on the south-east side of the campus.
It was pretty standard, a bedroom big enough for a double bed and a desk, a built in wardrobe, and a private bathroom; Decorated how you would expect from a girl in her early twenties, covered in memories and interests that gave it a personality outside of the off-white paint on the walls.
Of course, it was mildly ruined by the fact the previously pink bedsheets were stained in a pool of oxidised blood that dripped down onto the rug adorned floor and ledger small spatters on the skirting boards, but what can you really expect when the girl had been cut open whilst she was still alive and most definitely struggling against it.
“There’s no signs of forced entry,” All Morgan could do was shrug as he examined the fire door that acted as the room’s only entrance. “The inside lock was unfastened and there’s no marks indicating it was forced open, or that it even could be without heavy grade tools,”
“So our unsub had his own key then?”
“Or,” Emily’s suggestion was side-stepped by Spencer, “He was let in,”
There’s a small hum from Hotch as he stands beside you, arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed. “Alright,” He turns his eyes onto you with a small nod, “Take Prentiss to the Mortuary and check the autopsy. Morgan, Reid, get Garcia to find a list of professors the victims shared and go and speak with them, they might’ve noticed a change in the girls’ behaviours before their deaths.”
“Will do,”
“Got it,”
There’s a series of shared nods between you as you spilt up, leaving Hotch, Rossi and JJ at the crime scene in search of any more information they could utilise.
Trying to catch a Professor when they’re not busy is harder than most people would think. So hard in fact that Spencer and Morgan had been left with standing inside one of the lecture rooms to endure the last twenty minutes of a forensic psychology lesson so they could get the professor between classes.
“Professor Callahan?”
“For any personal feedback on your essay please send me an email,” The professor doesn’t so much as look up from the papers he collects and organises on his desk, seemingly already in a rush even after barely two minutes of the lecture ending.
Morgan and Spencer share a glance.
“My name’s Dr Spencer Reid, and this is Agent Morgan, we’re from the FBI,”
Callahan looks up this time, rectangle glasses reflecting the two back to each other through the overhead lighting.
“We were hoping we could ask you a few questions, Sir,”
Spencer watches the Professor’s eyebrows knit in confusion before his eyes spark with a hint of realisation, and then understanding.
“Yes, of course,” He nods, collecting the pile of papers in his right arm. “Please, follow me into my office,”
His office is filled with bookshelves stacked with psychology texts and framed accolades lining the walls. Small busts of philosophers in the mpty spaces. His desk is littered with small rememberences of his former students, and lining the opposite wall is another, a small plaque reading Dr. Wittchen at it’s forefront.
“Did you notice any changes in the girls’ behaviour, or anything unusual leading up to their deaths?” Spencer’s question is cautious, if not a little bit emotionally insensitive.
Callahan’s expression shifts to one of concern. “Honestly, I hadn’t noticed anything alarming. They were all such high achievers, incredibly driven. The stress of their programs sometimes affected them, but nothing out of the ordinary.”
Spencer nods, then glances toward the accompanying desk. “What about Professor Wittchen? Does he interact with the students much?”
Callahan hesitates, his brow furrowing slightly. “Robert is highly respected, very dedicated to his work. He can be a little tough on their grades, but more often than not he’s sat in here doing one-on-one tutoring in his spare time,”
Spencer hums softly at Callahan’s assessment. “Do you know if he turoed any of the girls? He might have a better insight into any changes in their mannerisms,”
“I’m not sure I’m afraid,” Callahan shakes his head, “I leave him to his teachings most of the ime, but I can let him know you’ve asked,”
As they speak, Morgan’s gaze drifts to a nearby display shelf adorned with photographs of past students on the far wall, each one framed and labeled with a name and a date.
Etched into the wood of the shelf itself an engraving reading, “Shelf of Stars.” stood front and centre, and as Morgan’s eyes wandered the pictures, a certain label caught his attention.
Front and centre, there you sat, “2006 PhD” followed by your name, a picture of you and your Professors in what’s presuambly your first year.
“No way,” Morgan breathes out a laugh. “Reid come look at this,”
“What? What’s wrong?” Spencer and Callahan’s expressions mirror each other as they glance over at Morgan in concern, only for him to quash any need for worry as he holds up the frame in their direction.
“Look how different she looks! What happened, did she get hit by a truck when she turned 20 or what?”
There’s a flicker of recognition in Spencer’s eyes, one that almost turns to fondness as he takes in the bright smile printed behind the glass. He’s not sure he’s ever seen you smile like that since you’ve been with the team.
“You know her?” Callahan raises an eyebrow.
“Yeah, yeah, she’s on our team,” Morgan nods with a chuckle as he places the picture back where he found it, pulling out his phone to snap a photo, probably to make fun of you later.
“Really?” Professor Callahan looks more than a little surprised at the revelation. “I knew she was destined for great things, but the FBI, wow,” He breathes out a short sigh, nodding. “Robert’ll have a field day when he finds out she chose forensics over clinical,”
Spencer gives what’s almost a laugh, clearing his throat. “Well, Professor, thank you for speaking with us, we’ll contact you if we find any more information,”
“No problem at all, my door is always open,” Callahan follows Spencer and Morgan over to the office door, holding it open for them as they leave.
“Oh, Agents?” He stops them before they get too far. “If you have any time in or after your investigation, ask her to pay us a visit? It’d be nice to catch up,”
“We’ll let her know,”
“From what I can tell, the removal of the uterus was done antemortem, and the victims cause of death was the blood loss that resulted from it,” The Coroner lifts the muscle torn by the initial incision to give you and Emily a proper look at the damage.
“The nature of the incisions tells that they were most likely done with proper surgical instruments, a scalpel most likely, but their nature is unpracticed, see here for example,”
She points towards the left side of the victims pelvis, where the muscle had been separated from the uteral lining. “In a professional hysterectomy, this tissue here would also be removed, but in this case it’s been left attached to the surrounding tissues, and the same can be said for the others,”
“So our unsub knows the basics, is that something that would require medical training?” Emily furrows her eyebrows at the sight, and you’re much the same.
The sight is almost enough to make you feel nauseous, but you don’t need sickly thoughts clouding your judgement right now.
“Possibly, although with how the internet is, it’s possible they read an article or watched a documentary on how the procedure is done,” The coroner sways her head side to side, “I’d say that whoever did this has had some training, but not necessarily in the field,”
Emily hums, turning her gaze from the victim towards you. “Medical student maybe?”
You hum absently, eyes trained on the gaping hole left in the girl’s stomach. “Maybe, probably won’t still be a student though,”
It affects you more than it should, you think, a malingering nagging in the back of your head that won’t leave you alone but also won’t tell you why it’s there in the first place.
You sigh, “We should look at biologists too, clinical fields,”
Emily gives you an agreeing nod. “I’ll call Garcia,” She pats your shoulder deftly as she leaves the room.
“Was there anything else strange about the body?” You tear your eyes away from the girl to look up at the coroner, who only gives you a small shake of her head.
“Not that I can see,” Her gaze, though objective, flickers with small amounts of uncertainty. “It’s so upsetting, things like this, what spurs someone to do something so… primally horrific?”
“A rejection probably, a denial of a sexual relationship or children that’s projected onto other women because he can’t get to the person he really wants to hurt,” You shrug out an exhale. “More common than you’d think,”
She frowns. “it’s awful,”
“Yeah,” You purse your lips together. “But it is what it is,”
“Did the three girls have any clear connections?”
Garcia taps away on her keyboard, and the jingling of her earrings over the reciever suggests that she’s shaking her head. “Apart from being Stanford students, not really. Julie was doing an MsC in Pediatric Therapy, Ophelia doing an MA in History of Medicine, and Marie doing a PhD in Psychology.” She sighs. “None of them had any classes together, no mutual friends, I don’t even think they knew the others existed,”
“There has to be some overlap,” Morgan groans exasperatedly, glancing over at the mostly bare profile board that him and Spencer were trying to put together. They’d spoken to most of the girls’ professors by now, and apart from offhanded comments about stress and pressure, nothing seemed out of the ordinary.
It was frustrating, really frustrating, and for all they knew, the team was on a time limit before another girl suffered the same fate. They needed a break in the case, sooner rather than later.
“What about the students Emily asked you to look into? Spencer bends almost awkardly towards Morgan’s phone, trying to raise his voice into the speaker whilst still writing against the whiteboard.
“Nada, I’m afraid, no one who had connections to all three girls, past or present, I’ve hit a wall,”
“No kidding,” Morgan exhales heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose with the hand not holding his phone. “Thanks anyway, sweetness,”
“Of course my love, I’ll hit you back if I find anything, Penny G out,” —
“So we’ve got three dead girls, no connections, and no signature to help us track down this guy, lovely,” Emily sips on her coffee, leaning back into her chair with a sigh.
“Isn’t this like every other case we’ve ever had?” You raise an eyebrow is disinterest, stretching you arms above your head and almost hitting Morgan in the face as he and Spencer reenter the room from their lunch break.
The Psychology department had been kind enough to loan you one of their staff rooms during your investigation, and comments had already been made about Hotch’s demeanour as he walked around you like he was keeping an eye on a group of toddlers.
“There’s something we’re missing here,” Rossi pours over the whiteboard with a disgruntled sigh, his palm dragging down the side of his face. “There’s always something,”
Reid nods, tapping his pen against his notebook as he takes a seat. “Even perfectionists leave traces. It’s just a matter of understanding their logic—how they justify their actions.”
“Change of subject quickly,” Morgan holds up a hand as he walks around the table, his other hand landing on your shoulder. “Talking of leaving traces, who was going to tell us that you actually knew how to smile?”
You shrug his hand off of you with a furrow of your eyebrows. “What?”
“I’m talking little nineteen year old you beaming like you were trying to compete with the sun,” He digs his phone from his pocket, holding the screen out to face the group. “I mean look at this, look at you, its weird,”
You snatch the phone from him as soon as you recognise the picture. “Why do you have that picture?”
“We took a trip to see one of your old Professors,” Morgan wrestles the device back out of your hands before you have a chance to what he assumes will be deleting the evidence of your past sunniness. “He asked to see you at some point by the way, wants to ‘catch up’,”
“Delete that photo, Morgan.” You cross one leg over the other with a huff.
“No way, Ice Queen, I’m gonna make fun of you with this forever,”
“I hate you,”
”I love you too,” He blows an air kiss in your direction.
The shrill ring of the door opening cuts through the room, snapping everyone to attention. A mildly out of breath PD officer leaning against the doorframe.
“There’s been another one,” she says, her voice tight.
The room erupts into motion.
When you arrive, the scene is eerily similar to the others. The victim, a young woman in her early twenties, lies in the middle of her dorm room, fully clothed and carefully positioned. Her face is serene, as though she’s simply sleeping. The blood pooling out of her lower abdomen tells you that she’s not.
“Victim’s name is Natalie Yu. Twenty-one, Psychology major. She fits the profile—academic, driven, top of her class.” JJ fills you in easily.
You step closer, your heart sinking as you take in the meticulous staging. The unsub’s reverence for his victims is apparent in every detail. No signs of a struggle. No personal belongings out of place.
Reid crouches near the body, his eyes narrowing. “Same as the others. No physical trauma that would suggest a cause of death other than bloodloss. Removal of reproductive organs.”
Morgan stands by the door, his jaw clenched. “This guy’s escalating. Three murders in three weeks, and now this. He’s not slowing down.”
Something catches Prentiss’s eye. She kneels beside the victim and carefully lifts the edge of her blouse. Tucked neatly into the waistband of her jeans is a folded piece of paper.
“What’s this?” she murmurs, pulling on gloves before unfolding the note. The room goes still as she reads aloud:
“It was meant to be you.”
You lean over Emily’s shoulder to get a glance at the writing yourself. And then you immediately regret doing so. The handwriting is unmistakable—sharp, angular strokes that you’d recognise anywhere.
But you can’t say that. Not yet.
“‘It was meant to be you’?” Rossi repeats, stepping closer. “What the hell does that mean?”
Reid frowns. “It’s personal. Direct. He’s targeting someone specific now.”
“It could be a taunt,” JJ offers. “A way to throw us off or instill fear in the team.”
Morgan shakes his head, his expression grim. “No. This is different. This isn’t just about control anymore—this is about sending a message,”
“It’s personal,” Reid says again, his gaze sweeping the room. For a brief moment, his eyes land on you, and you feel like he can see right through you.
“Excuse me,” you manage, your voice steady despite the panic clawing at your chest.
You step outside, the crisp air hitting you like a jolt. Your hands shake as you pull out your phone, staring at the screen without really seeing it. The note wasn’t just a taunt—it was a reminder. He knew you were here. He’d known the moment you stepped onto campus.
It was meant to be you.
The words echo in your mind, a sinister promise that leaves no room for doubt.
“This is different from the previous victims,” Spencer says, “The note changes everything. If we assume the unsub has been fixated on someone specific all along, the other victims could have been surrogates—stand-ins for the real target.”
Prentiss looks at him sharply. “You think the unsub is escalating because the real target is now within reach?”
He nods. “Exactly. The murders were practice, perfecting the method. But now that the target is accessible, he’s shifting focus.”
“Great,” Morgan mutters. “Wonderful.”
JJ gestures to the note. “We need to figure out who he’s targeting—and fast.”
You stand by the door, your stomach twisting. You can’t let them figure it out, not like this.
“I’ll follow up on the note,” you say, forcing a calm you don’t feel. “Maybe there’s something about the phrasing or handwriting we can use to narrow down suspects.”
Morgan eyes you, his brow furrowed. “You sure you’re good? You’ve been quiet since we got here.”
You nod quickly, brushing off his concern. “I’m fine.”
He doesn’t look convinced, but he lets it go.
You barricade yourself in the staff room, spreading out the case files across the table. You stare at the note, the handwriting glaring up at you like a brand.
“It was meant to be you.”
You were just a kid, desperate to prove yourself. He saw that. He used it.
You grip the edge of the table, your knuckles white. You can’t let him win. Not again.
A knock at the door pulls you out of your thoughts. It’s Spencer, holding a cup of coffee.
“Thought you could use this,” he says, setting it down in front of you.
“Thank you.” You manage a display of gratitude, but his gaze lingers, sharp and questioning.
“You’ve been off since we got here,” he says softly. “Is there something you’re not telling us?”
Your heart skips a beat. Reid is too perceptive for his own good, and you know he won’t let this go.
“I’m fine,” you lie. “Just tired.”
He doesn’t look convinced, but he nods, stepping back. “If you need to talk, I’m here.”
As he leaves, you let out a shaky breath. The walls are closing in, and you don’t know how much longer you can keep this to yourself. Not if you don’t want anyone else to die because of it.
Spencer stands near the board, absentmindedly tapping his pen against his palm. Morgan is leaning against a table, arms crossed, while Prentiss and JJ exchange quiet remarks by the coffee pot. Rossi, as always, is seated with his chair tipped back, his eyes fixed on the board.
But it’s Hotch who breaks the silence. “This unsub’s timeline is escalating, and the note makes it clear they’re getting bolder. If we don’t figure out their connection to Stanford soon, someone else is going to die.”
Morgan sighs. “We’ve gone through the victim profiles a dozen times. There’s no overlap other than the school. No shared clubs, professors, dorms, nothing. It’s like this guy’s picking them at random.”
“Not random,” Spencer interjects, his voice sharp. “The victims are stand-ins for someone else. I’m sure of it. The note confirmed it—‘It was meant to be you.’ The unsub isn’t just killing; they’re trying to send a message to someone.”
Rossi tilts his head. “None of them bear any significant physical relation to each other,”
Reid nods. “It doesn’t have to be physical. It’s an ideal, there’s something specific that ties all of the victims together, something linked to whoever the unsub is actually after,”
JJ frowns. “But who is it? If it���s not one of the victims, how do we figure out who the unsub is fixated on?”
You tense in your chair, your hands curling into fists under the table. You can feel their eyes shifting to you, their collective attention like a spotlight burning against your skin.
Morgan raises an eyebrow. “You did go here. Maybe there’s something you’d recognise—something we’ve missed.”
You meet their gazes with forced calm, willing your voice to remain steady. “Just because I went to Stanford doesn’t mean this case has anything to do with me.”
Prentiss leans forward slightly, her tone gentle but insistent. “No one’s saying it does, but if there’s even a chance—”
“There’s not.” you cut her off, sharper than you intended. The words hang in the air, and you immediately regret your tone. It doesn’t change anything though. “We’re here because of the victims, not because I graduated from here a decade ago.”
The room falls quiet, and the tension thickens. Hotch watches you carefully, his unreadable gaze a weight you can’t escape.
“I need some air,” you say abruptly, standing before anyone can argue. “I’ll be back in a few.”
You leave the room before anyone can stop you, the sound of your boots echoing down the sterile hall.
Stanford’s campus feels both foreign and familiar as you wander its paths. The sprawling quads and ivy-covered buildings haven’t changed much in the years since you left, but the memories they stir feel sharp and raw.
You stop at a bench near the Psychology department, the cool breeze doing little to calm the storm inside you. Your arms wrap around yourself as if trying to hold yourself together.
“You’re not fine.”
The voice startles you, but you don’t turn around. You’d recognise that soft, observant tone anywhere. Spencer.
He sits beside you, leaving a respectful distance between you, his lanky frame folding awkwardly on the bench. “You’ve been different since we got here,” he says after a moment. “Quiet. Hesitant. That’s not like you,”
You don’t respond, staring out at the students passing by, their laughter and chatter a stark contrast to the weight in your chest.
“I know it’s not just the case,” he continues, his voice gentle but unyielding. “There’s something else. Something you’re not telling us.”
Your jaw tightens. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do,”
His certainty grates on your already frayed nerves, and you finally turn to him, your eyes flashing. “What are you trying to say, Reid? Spit it out.”
He hesitates, his brow furrowing as he chooses his words carefully. “I think you know who the unsub is. Or at least… you suspect,”
You laugh, the sound bitter and sharp. “That’s a hell of an accusation.”
“I’m not accusing you of anything,” he says quickly. “I’m worried about you. You’re not acting like yourself, and the way you reacted to that note…” He trails off, shaking his head. “It was different. You looked like you’d seen a ghost,”
“Maybe I’m just tired,” you snap, the defensive edge in your voice sharper than you intend.
He doesn’t flinch, his gaze steady and unwavering. “It’s more than that. I can see it. You’re scared,”
The word hits you like a slap, and for a moment, you can’t breathe. He’s right, of course. You are scared. Terrified, even. But admitting that feels like surrendering, like letting him win.
“Stop it,” you say, your voice low and dangerous. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Spencer leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he studies you. “I think I do. I think this unsub has a connection to you. And I think that’s why you’ve been avoiding us—because you don’t want us to figure it out.”
Your hands curl into fists at your sides, and you glare at him, your composure threatening to crack. “You don’t know what he did to me.”
The words slip out before you can stop them, and the moment they do, you see the understanding dawn in his eyes. “Who?” Spencer presses gently. “Who are we talking about?”
Your chest heaves as you fight back the tears threatening to spill. “One of my Professors.”
“Did he…” Spencer hesitates in pressing the subject, a mix of his usual timidness when it comes to you and the fear that he’s broaching on a very concerning topic.
“It was consensual.”
Spencer watches you closely, his eyes searching your face for a sign, some clue, as if trying to understand the puzzle that is your inner workings.
He doesn’t push, but the silence between you both is suffocating. His voice is almost a whisper when he speaks again, but it still cuts through the heavy air between you.
"You were just a kid," Spencer murmurs, his words soft but no less sharp. "He took advantage of you when you were vulnerable, when you were still figuring things out. That’s manipulation."
You flinch at the truth of it, at the way he so easily sees the pieces of your life you've tried so hard to bury. You didn’t want to think about him anymore, didn’t want to remember how he twisted every gesture, every word, until it was all about him, all about what he wanted.
You can still feel the weight of his hands, the way he made you feel like you didn’t have a choice, that this was all part of the price you had to pay to succeed, to be seen as worthy of your place in academia.
Spencer shifts slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. “He used his power over you. You were just a kid, and he was a professor. Someone you trusted.” His words are steady, but they cut deep. "You were in a position where you thought you had to do what he wanted. But it wasn’t your fault,”
“It was consensual.” you say again, more firmly this time, though it feels like you’re trying to convince yourself rather than him, the words raw and drenched in a cold calmness you didn’t really feel.
“Was it?” Spencer asks gently, his voice low. “If you were 19 and you thought you had to do it to get ahead, was it really? Was it truly your choice?”
You feel the air leave your lungs, and you want to scream at him, to deny everything, to make him stop asking these questions, because the answers are too painful, too complicated.
But he’s right. You were a child—so young, so desperate to succeed, to make a name for yourself in a field dominated by people like him. You thought you were lucky when he took you under his wing, when he offered you guidance, extra attention, time. But you weren’t.
“I had an abortion,” you finally confess, the words coming out in a broken whisper.
Spencer’s eyes widen, and for a moment, he’s silent, processing your admission. His lips part as though he wants to say something, but nothing comes. He doesn’t push, though, just watches you, his expression a mix of sympathy and concern, but there's no judgment in it. Not like you expected.
“In my shitty college dorm room,” Your voice catches, and you blink rapidly, trying to stop the sting in your eyes. “I thought I was dying. The amount of blood—” You let out a shaky breath, your hands trembling in your lap. “I didn't know how to make it stop.Sometimes I wish it didn’t.”
“Don’t say that.”
Spencer leans in a little, his gaze intense, but gentle. “You were just a kid,” he says softly, his words like a balm, soothing yet cutting through the guilt. “He took advantage of you. It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t deserve that.”
You want to believe him. You want so badly to hear those words and let them erase the shame that has clung to you for so long. But the voices of doubt are louder in your head. The fear that somehow, deep down, it was your fault. That maybe you could’ve said no, maybe you could’ve gotten away before it went too far.
“I didn’t tell anyone,” you say, your voice low, almost ashamed of the vulnerability. “I couldn’t tell my parents or my friends… or anyone. It was like everything I worked for, everything I had, was tied to him. If I said something, everything would’ve been ruined.”
Spencer’s brows furrow, and he lets out a soft exhale. “No one should ever have to carry that weight alone, especially not at your age.” His voice is steady, but there’s something deeply empathetic in his tone. “It’s not a burden you should’ve had to bear by yourself.”
“I lied to him too,” you whisper, the confession hanging heavily in the air. “I told him I miscarried. He was devastated. He wasn’t even angry—just sad. But I didn’t. I didn’t feel anything.”
“You…” Spencer starts, hesitating to make sure he words his response correctly. “Being in a state of shock is normal after a traumatic event,”
You shake your head. “I know what shock feels like. I was just numb. I murdered my own child and I didn’t even feel guilty about it.”
Spencer’s jaw tightens slightly, a flicker of anger flashing in his eyes, but it’s not directed at you. It’s directed at him, at the man who should’ve protected you, not preyed on you. His voice is tight, but he keeps it calm.
“You did what you had to do. That’s not your fault.”
“It was alive. Seventeen weeks. I flushed it down the fucking toilet,” You drag your palm down your face, leaning forward until your elbows are resting on your knees.
“I didn’t even want to graduate after that,” you admit, your voice raw. “I couldn’t face him. I just wanted to disappear, but I was not going to put myself through hell without getting something out of it.”
Spencer is quiet for a long moment, taking in everything you’ve said. His gaze never wavers from yours, like he’s trying to understand every piece of you, trying to reach that place where you’re still hiding, still locked away from the rest of the world.
“You don’t owe anyone an explanation for what happened. You did what you needed to survive. And you are surviving. But you don’t have to do it alone.”
You close your eyes, letting the weight of his words settle over you. The storm inside you hasn’t calmed, but for the first time in a long while, it feels like it’s not threatening to swallow you whole. The walls you’ve built around yourself feel just a little more porous, itching to crumble.
“I’m scared,” you say, the vulnerability you’ve been holding back creeping into your voice. “He’s murdering people because of me.”
Spencer doesn’t hesitate. He sits up straighter, his expression serious. “We’ll figure this out. We’ll help you, and we’ll make sure that he doesn’t hurt anyone else.”
“You can’t tell anyone what I just told you.”
He lets out a sigh of your name.
“Promise me, Spencer.”
“Okay,” He nods solemnly. “I promise.”
The moment you walk through the doors of the empty lecture hall, you feel it—that same nauseating mix of dread and anticipation curling in your stomach. The air is stale, thick with the weight of memories you spent years trying to forget.
He’s already there, standing at the podium like he belongs there, like nothing has changed. Like he hasn’t left a trail of bodies behind him.
“Ah,” Professor Wittchen exhales as if relieved. “There you are,”
Your fingers twitch at your sides. “I should’ve known you’d pick this place.”
His lips curve into a small smile, a smile that used to make you feel seen. Now, it makes your skin crawl. “It’s fitting, don’t you think? This is where it all began,”
He watches you with the same unwavering gaze he always had, the one that used to make you feel special—chosen. Now, it just feels predatory.
“I missed you,” he says simply, stepping closer.
You don’t move.
“You should’ve visited,” he continues, his voice warm, inviting, like this is a casual conversation and not a confrontation between a killer and his last loose end. “You were my brightest student,”
“I was your victim.” you correct, voice sharp.
His expression doesn’t falter. If anything, he looks pleased. “Victim?” he echoes, like he’s rolling the word around in his mouth, testing its weight. “That’s not how I remember it.”
You swallow hard, jaw clenched. You knew this was how he would react. Knew he would twist things, make them blurry, like he always had.
He tilts his head, studying you. “I heard you became a profiler. That’s impressive. Though I always thought you were more inclined to be a Psychiatrist.”
“You shouldn't be surprised,” you say flatly. “I learned from the best manipulators.”
A flicker of amusement crosses his face. “Now, that’s not fair,”
Your nails dig into your palms. “I know it’s you,” you say, cutting through the act. “You murdered four innocent women because you couldn’t move on.”
He exhales, almost disappointed. “That’s not quite right.”
You don’t let him continue. “Why are you doing this? Why now?”
His gaze darkens, and for the first time since you stepped into this room, the warmth fades from his expression. “It’s been ten years since you left me,” he says simply. “You never even had the decency to say goodbye. I tried to find a substitute, but they weren’t like you. No body is. You’re special.”
A shiver runs down your spine, but you force yourself to hold his stare. “I didn’t owe you anything.”
Wittchen exhales through his nose, shaking his head like you’ve disappointed him. “That’s not true. I shaped you. I made you.”
A bitter laugh escapes you. “You ruined my life.”
His eyes flicker with something unreadable, and then—slowly—he steps down from the podium, closing the distance between you. “You don’t believe that.”
Your breath catches, but you don’t move.
He stops inches from you, his voice dropping to a murmur. “I see it in your eyes. You still need me.”
You know what he’s doing. You know how his mind works, how he bends reality to his will, how he rewrites history to suit his narrative.
And for the first time, you don’t fall for it.
“You’re pathetic,” you whisper. “You think killing people will make me what? Love you? Miss you?” You shake your head. “You mean nothing to me.”
Something in his expression shifts. It’s subtle, but you catch it. The crack in his mask. The first glimpse of the monster beneath.
His fingers twitch at his sides.
There it is. The control slipping.
Good.
You see the flash of something dark behind his eyes—anger, frustration, maybe even desperation. He knows he’s losing control, and for a man like him, that’s unbearable.
You take a step forward. Not away, but closer.
“I hate you.” you say, your voice sharp, cutting through the heavy silence of the room.
Wittchen’s lips barely twitch, but you see the flicker of amusement in his eyes, like he thinks you’re still playing a game with him. Like this is another debate, another test of wills.
“No, you don’t,” he murmurs. “Not really.”
Your hands curl into fists at your sides. “Don’t tell me how I feel.”
He sighs, tilting his head like you’re disappointing him. “I did anything you didn’t ask for,” he says, like it’s a fact. “You wanted me.”
Rage burns through you, hot and all-consuming. “I was nineteen,” you spit. You knew exactly what you were doing. You took advantage of me.”
Wittchen exhales through his nose, shaking his head. “It wasn’t like that,”
“It was exactly like that,” you snap, stepping closer. “And do you want to know the worst part? I spent years telling myself it wasn’t. That maybe I did love you, that maybe I wanted to be with you. But I didn’t.”
His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t deny it.
“I don’t regret leaving you,” you continue, voice trembling with fury. “I don’t regret moving on, or never looking back. But do you know what I do regret?”
He doesn’t answer, just watches you carefully, like he’s waiting for the killing blow.
“I regret ever letting you touch me. I regret every second I spent thinking you were something special, that you cared about me. You didn’t. You only cared about what I could give you.”
Something shifts in his expression—subtle, but enough. His fingers twitch again.
You steel yourself and drive the dagger deeper.
“You think I miscarried?” you ask, voice dropping to a whisper. “That’s what I told you, right? That I lost the baby?”
His face remains eerily blank.
“I lied,” you whisper. “I had an abortion.”
His entire body stiffens.
“Because the thought of being tied to you for the rest of my life made me sick. And I would’ve rather died from sepsis than deal with you.”
The silence that follows is suffocating.
For a moment, Wittchen doesn’t react. Doesn’t breathe.
Then, without warning, he moves.
His hand goes for his waistband, and in a split second, you see the glint of a gun.
But you’re faster.
Your own weapon is already in your hands before he can fully draw his, aimed directly at his chest.
“Don’t.” you warn, your voice steel.
Wittchen hesitates, his gun halfway raised, his eyes locked onto yours.
For the first time, there’s something close to uncertainty in his expression.
The team is listening.
They hear every word.
Spencer’s grip on his gun is tight, knuckles white, jaw clenched so hard it aches. The rest of the team stands tense beside him, ears trained on the conversation happening just beyond the door.
They could go in. They should go in.
But they don’t.
Not yet.
Because this isn’t their battle.
Still, when they hear the shift in the conversation, the moment Wittchen reaches for his gun, every muscle in Spencer’s body tenses, ready to move.
And then—
Silence.
A long, stretching silence.
Then a single gunshot.
“You’re lying,” Wittchen snaps, his voice rising as his fingers curl tighter around the revolver’s grip. He pulls back the hammer with a metallic click, the sound loud in the charged silence of the lecture hall.
His arm is steady, the barrel aimed at your chest, but you don't flinch. “You miscarried. You were sick. That’s the truth. I took care of you. I was there when you needed me.”
Your lips curl into a bitter smile.
“The baby was fine,” you say, voice cold and firm. “I just didn’t want it.”
The words hang between you, heavy and raw.
For a split second, something akin to disbelief flickers in his eyes. But he recovers quickly, his jaw tightening as his grip on the gun tightens. The cold, calculating look is back.
The man who used his power over you is right here, still trying to control the situation. But he’s unraveling, and you can see it now—the cracks in his façade.
“You think you can just walk away from all this?” Wittchen growls, his voice a low threat. His eyes dart between you and the gun in your hand, calculating the distance, the time it would take to react.
“You’re going to watch me.” you reply, your voice steady despite the chaos swirling inside you. You take a step forward, gun lowered in favour of a pair of handcuffs.
He lets out a sharp breath, taking a step backwards, his arm still outstretched, but his expression is one of rage and something else—desperation.
“I gave you everything,” Wittchen sneers. “I could’ve given you more. You were a star, you were going places. But you threw it all away.”
“I didn’t throw away anything.” you say, voice sharp, anger curling in your gut. “I made my life what I wanted it to be.”
You take another step toward him. Your hand grips your gun tighter, its cold weight a reminder of how far you’ve come, how much you’ve survived.
“I was a kid,” you say, quieter now, more dangerous. “A kid who wanted to make something of herself. But you? You made sure I’d always be tied to you, that I’d never escape your reach. You took that from me. And now?”
Now, you’re not just angry. Now, you’re done.
“I don’t need you anymore,” you continue, voice quiet but lethal. “And I don’t need to live in fear of you. Not anymore. Just give up.”
Wittchen’s face hardens. His finger moves closer to the trigger, and for a moment, it feels like time stands still. His eyes are cold, calculating—he’s trying to force you to back down, to make you fear him again. But you don’t. Not anymore.
And he knows it.
The silence stretches out, suffocating. And then, without another word, he turns the gun away from you and towards himself.
For a moment, the world is frozen.
The sharp scent of gunpowder lingers in the air.
You don’t flinch.
You don’t move.
Wittchen stares at you, almost smiling.
A slow, dark red stain spreads across his chest. His gun falls from his hand, clattering uselessly to the floor.
Then, his knees buckle.
He collapses.
The impact is dull, almost anticlimactic.
His breath comes in shallow gasps, and for the first time since you walked into this room, he looks small.
Weak.
The man who once held so much power over you is nothing more than a dying, pathetic heap on the floor.
And somehow, there’s no satisfaction in it.
You watch as the light fades from his eyes, as the last breath leaves his lips.
And then—
It’s over.
The gunshot sends the team into action.
Spencer is the first through the door, gun raised, eyes scanning the room for threats.
But all he finds is you—standing still, gun loose in one hand, handcuffs in the other, staring blankly ahead.
Wittchen is on the floor, unmoving. Blood pools around him.
For a second, no one speaks.
Then you move.
Without looking at any of them, you turn away from the corpse.
And then, numbly, silently, you walk past them.
You don’t stop when Spencer calls your name.
You don’t stop when JJ reaches for you.
You just keep walking.
Because it’s finally over.
And yet, somehow, it doesn’t feel like a victory at all.
The air outside the lecture hall is thick with tension.
Your gun feels heavy in your hands, and at some point, you register someone gently taking it from you. You don’t resist.
The hallways of Stanford feel different now. The ghosts you tried so hard to forget have been exorcised, but their shadows still linger.
You reach the nearest exit and step outside, inhaling sharply as the crisp night air hits you. You brace your hands on your knees, grounding yourself.
Then you hear footsteps behind you.
You know it’s them.
You straighten, forcing yourself to meet their gazes.
Hotch stands with his arms crossed, his expression unreadable but his presence steady. JJ and Emily exchange a look, worry etched into their features. Rossi, as always, watches with quiet understanding.
Then there’s Morgan.
He looks… shaken.
Guilt lingers in his eyes, and when he steps forward, his voice is lower, softer than you’ve ever heard it.
“I’m sorry,” he says.
You blink, caught off guard.
“For what?” Your voice is hoarse, raw.
Morgan exhales sharply, rubbing a hand over his jaw with his eyes full of regret. “I didn’t know.”
You swallow hard. You don’t want to talk about it. But there’s something in his voice, in the way his usually confident demeanor falters, that makes you nod stiffly.
“I know.”
It’s the closest thing to forgiveness you can offer right now.
Morgan nods, accepting it.
Spencer is the last to approach.
He doesn’t say anything at first—just stands there, his hands shoved into his pockets. His eyes, though, say everything.
You hold his gaze for a moment before sighing. “What?”
“I don’t know what to say,” he admits. His voice is careful, but there’s an edge of something else—frustration, sadness, maybe even anger. Not at you. Never at you. But at what happened. At what Wittchen took from you.
“You don’t have to say anything,” you murmur.
The hum of the jet is steady and low, a constant presence that fills the silence between breaths.
You sit by the window, staring out at the clouds, your reflection barely visible against the dark glass.
You should be exhausted.
You are exhausted.
But sleep won’t come.
Your mind won’t let it.
The seat next to you shifts slightly, and you glance over to see Spencer settling beside you.
He doesn’t say anything.
Doesn’t ask if you’re okay, because he already knows you’re not.
Doesn’t try to fill the silence with empty reassurances.
He just sits.
And somehow, that’s reassurance enough.
Sleep comes a little easier after that.
777 notes · View notes
mulloey · 25 days ago
Text
hunted • yunho
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
it’s all a game, he says. you’re desperate to play.
yunho x fem!reader
words: 4.7k
warnings: extremely dark kinks, heavy consensual non consent (cnc), dubcon at some points though you have a safeword, internet hookups (don’t), unprotected sex (don’t), the word ‘rape’ is used, hard dom!yunho, fear play, glove kink, choking, impact play, knife play, under-negotiated kink, size kink, painful sex, sir kink, you’re referred to within the scene as a victim and a sex slave, explicit threats of bodily harm and death in the context of cnc, mind break possibly, aftercare, crying etc
you’ve been appropriately warned of the content ahead. click out if you are uncomfortable. this is not safe to do irl. hate is blocked.
-
You don’t know where else to turn.
It’s been on your mind for a while— this fantasy. This game. You don’t know why, or how, and you’d never, ever admit it, but it plagues your thoughts, day after day, haunting your dreams night after night without respite. You’re too ashamed to even say it.
You never told any of your previous partners; you’d hint, maybe, suggesting weaker, milder things to nudge them the right direction, but they always shied away, got scared about three miles south of what you actually wanted, and ran screaming. You know it’s wrong. If anything, the fact that they ran away should have been a green flag. But it wasn’t. Not to you.
You make the account around 3am. Your username is nondescript, profile photo grainy and blurred, showing just enough to attract someone who might be able to do this for you. You write the post with trembling hands; the words come easier to you than you’ll ever admit.
I want to be forced. I want to be raped. I want to be punished for resisting. I imagine a stranger, maybe one I’d only seen in passing. He can’t get enough of me. He needs me. He’ll have me. He follows me wherever I’m going, lying in wait. It doesn’t matter how much I resist. I’m going to be his. He. Will. Have. Me.
As expected, your phone is blown up by the time you check it. Hundreds of old, gross, sleazy men desperate to get a taste of your — shudder — young pussy, as one called it. You hadn’t given a specific age, just that you’re in your 20s, but they all seem content to run with the idea of you being on the lower end, rather than the higher. Perverts.
You scroll through the messages. each one confirming the rational part of your brain that says this is a stupid, dangerous idea and you should forget you ever even had it.
It’s the one at the bottom that stops you. Sent not long after you’d gone to sleep, but they’d liked the post almost instantly. The profile picture is like yours — grainy, blurred, but suggesting a toned, young-ish, large body — and he too is in his 20s, if he’s telling the truth. His message is short and respectful— a breath of fresh air.
youknowme: Nice post. Do you really want that, or do you just like imagining it?
You bite your lip. You don’t know why, but this person feels… different. Exciting. You want to know more.
rosedepths: i really want it. can you give it to me?
youknowme: I could. Would you take it all?
You chuckle— you know what he means, but you figure you’ll have some fun. See if he’s expecting a sweet, scared little doe who’ll be quick to submit; or if he’s expecting a fight. If he’s expecting you.
rosedepths: nope.
The typing button appears and disappears a few times. You assume he doesn’t like your response, and he’s not as exciting a match as you’d hoped, until his next message comes through.
youknowme: Yes, you will.
Oh, fuck. You feel yourself leaking as you read it over and over. You’re desperate to know more.
rosedepths: have you done this before? raping a stranger?
youknowme: I hope you’re talking about CNC, Rose. If you are, then yes. I have.
rosedepths: you any good at it?
youknowme: I’ve subdued much feistier things than you. I can give you what you’re asking for. Do you want it?
The need in your stomach is so profound you think you could keel over. You’ve never found it easier to type something out.
rosedepths: yes.
You talk until you sleep, and you’re optimistic about this guy. He’s careful and meticulous with your kinks and limits, guiding you through the details while still retaining the mystery and allure you’re craving. Despite your protests, he insists on a safeword, but assures you that that’s ‘the only thing in the world that will stop him.’
As you become more familiar with this site, designed solely for this purpose it seems, you see this man is… popular. To say the least. He even has what looks like a review section from other women he’s fucked and oh, there’s pictures. Not of him— but of the deep bruises and stinging cuts he’s left behind. You click through the reviews, pupils dilating the longer you stare the screen down.
He fucked me so good.
He put me in my place.
He’s brutal.
No one’s ever made me cry like that. Or cum.
When he proposes a meeting, you don’t think twice.
By the time next Friday rolls around, the knot in your stomach is a constant; it follows you around, heavy and aching as it trails behind every step. You know it’s just nerves, excitement, the thrill of knowing you’re about to do something very, very wrong. But some part of you does wonder if it’s doubt— are you being stupid? Is this a bad idea? Well, yes. You are and it is. But is it… too bad? You don’t know. As the clock ticks slowly towards your ‘appointment’, you feel more and more anxious to find out.
You clock out at 5, hurrying down the stairs of your office building to dash home. You’d prepared your bag already, shaved this morning and placed your fanciest, laciest set of lingerie under your work clothes. You take a second to freshen up, touch up your makeup and dump your work bag on your bed before you’re hurrying out the door again.
The hotel he’d booked is downtown, shiny and new and well beyond your price range. You wonder for a moment what this man does for work. Your knowledge of him is very, very limited— by design, of course. This whole game, this whole exercise hinges on him being a total stranger. But still, you can’t help but be curious. The one clue you have is the name the room was booked under— Yunho. You must have said it to yourself a thousand times; trying it out, the sound, the feeling. It tastes tantalising on your tongue and you’re bubbling with need by the time you make it to your room.
You hesitate when you reach the door. He’d told you he’d arrive later, at an undetermined time, but you can’t help but wonder. Is he in there, lying in wait? Will you open the door to find him sat on the bed, or hidden behind a corner, or, your heart races at the thought, right there on the other side? You breathe, in, out, in, out. You can do this. There’s nothing you could find on the other side of the door that you wouldn’t beg for another day.
You’re almost disappointed when you walk into the room to find it totally empty. You check the bathroom, the corners, the cupboards, half hoping to find him looming there, waiting to strike. But you don’t. You sigh, sitting down on the bed and sliding off your shoes. You’re not really sure what to do now. You suppose you could touch yourself, you doubt he’d blame you for being excited, but over the past few days, without realising you’ve found yourself almost saving yourself for him; each time your hands had wandered down there, you’d stopped yourself. He’ll take care of it.
Sighing, you decide to turn on the TV, flicking lazily through the channels until you find something that entertains you until he arrives.
With every unexplained noise, every creaking of a neighbour’s door, you look up eagerly, hoping to see Yunho looming in the doorway. But you don’t. Hours go by, your hope fading more and more, until you accept that he’s just not coming tonight. Tomorrow, maybe. You hope.
By the time you’re ready to sleep, you’ve passed several hours in front of the mindless reality show you ended up settling on. Trying to ignore the crushing disappointment that Yunho hasn’t shown up today, and the fear that he never will, you turn the TV off and settle into the sheets.
He’ll come tomorrow. He has to.
Eyes adjusting to the darkness, you make yourself comfortable in the cool, fresh sheets. The only sounds in the quiet room are your slow, steady breaths and the low hum of the air-conditioning. As your eyes begin to droop, you feel yourself relaxing into the memory foam, wondering and hoping he’ll be there when you wake up…
Click.
There’s a hand on your mouth. The lights are on.
Your eyes snap open and your body jolts, adrenaline flowing instantly. The hand is large, covering your mouth and nose and you can’t breathe.
As you adjust to the light you get a good look at him, and you’re so shocked that for a moment you forget you’re supposed to struggle. Yunho is gorgeous. Fading blue hair, dark enough to seem black from a distance; features gentle, eyes dangerous and all blending perfectly together. He’s wearing a white shirt and pinstripe waistcoat that struggles against a broad, toned chest that seems to be trying to escape and his large hands are covered by a pair of thick, leather gloves.
Fuck. You’d beg for this man any other day, happily and eagerly. But you can’t do that now. You have to fight. You thrash against him, legs flailing but his body holds you down, pinning you in place and oh, he’s large, too. He could incapacitate you now and be done with it, but it seems he wants to play.
“Well, aren’t you sweet.”
His voice is low and rough and addictive, dripping with want and danger. He stares you down, eyes narrowed, blank, burning.
“Gonna be a good girl for me?”
The pressure of his hand has eased enough for you to breathe and you lie still for a moment, gauging your next move. You nod, slowly. I’ll be good.
He smiles, not really believing you, and then his hands are off you. For one second, they’re off of you and you take your chance— you jump up and bolt out of the bed, dashing in the direction of the door. You hear him curse, but you know he’d chosen this room, large enough to practically count as a suite, specifically to give you more room to run. And run you do; you’re still half-asleep — you’re not quite sure if you did fall asleep, in the end, or if he got to you just as you were drifting off — but the adrenaline pumping through your veins is enough to carry your feet towards the exit.
You hear him on your tail but he’s not running— no, his steps are leisurely, like he knows he’s going to catch you and is merely amused by your idea that it would end any other way.
He lets you get to the door and pull it halfway open, just enough to think you’ll make it out into the hall, before it slams shut in your face, only just missing your fingers where they’d lingered in the doorway. Then there’s strong arms on your body, slamming you with full force, your body colliding painfully with the heavy wood. You struggle pitifully in his hold and as the lock clicks shut above you, you hear the barely restrained anger in his voice.
“And where the fuck are you going, bitch?” He growls. He grabs your hair and tugs your head backwards, sending a painful sting through your scalp then slams your head back against the door. “You tryna get away, pretty girl?”
You grunt, pushing back against him as hard as you can, but with his firm grip on you all you manage to do is push your ass back against his crotch. He groans, the grip on your hair tightening. “Fucking tease,” he mutters. “Bet you’re wet already.”
He spins you around, holding you by the neck against the door, his body caging you in as his other hand roams across your breasts, squeezing them just short of painfully. You struggle fruitlessly but you’re completely trapped and you know it.
You feel his knee nudging at your closed legs, clenched together to keep him away from your heat as if it’s not aching for him already. “Open,” he says.
“Never.”
“Fine.” His leg draws back and lands a kick between your knees and you yelp, legs forced apart; he shoves his thigh into the gap, holding your legs open and your pussy exposed as his hand runs up your bare thigh and slips beneath the silk slip you curse yourself for wearing to bed. Could you have made this any easier for him?
His fingers tease the edge of your cotton panties, pulling it back and slapping the elastic against your skin and all you can do is stay in place, held under his weight as he toys with you. But you’re not done and this isn’t over. You’re just biding your time. You just need an opportunity; a moment of carelessness for you to slip away.
He runs a finger softly across your covered pussy, and the smug expression on his face tells you exactly what he finds there.
“For someone who doesn’t want this,” he says, “you’re awfully fucking wet.”
“Fuck you,” you spit.
He’s quick to react; a heavy slap lands on your face, turning your head forcefully to the side and leaving a lingering ache.
“Wet and mouthy,” he says. “I wonder how quickly you’ll break.”
Your stomach twists but you give nothing away; you’re enjoying the back and forth, the game, too much to give up yet, no matter how desperately you want him to just fuck you alrady.
“I’ll never fucking break,” you snap.
“Oh, you’ll break.” He leans in closer, enough for you to feel his breath on your face as he speaks. “They always do.”
You can hear your heart beating wildly, pounding against your ribs and your breath stutters. “And if I don’t?”
“If you don’t…” He lets the words hang in the air, gaze flickering across your shivering form. His mouth curls into a thin smile. “I’ll just have to hurt you real, real bad.”
You swallow thickly, tension caught in your throat. You wish that didn’t sound so enticing.
“Now,” he says. “Open your mouth.”
You force yourself to laugh, amused despite your terror by the notion that you’d just give in and obey. You purse your lips, sealing your mouth shut— directly defiant. His eyes flash and his hand tightens around your throat, cutting off your airflow as he presses down on the sides of your neck. You manage to hold out for a few seconds until you feel your eyes bulge and you gasp, mouth opening in a desperate bid for air. He loosens his grip, grabbing your chin and pushing his thumb in just far enough to hold your mouth open for him to spit into it. The saliva lands on your tongue and he pushes your mouth closed, pressing his hand over your mouth and nose again. “Swallow.”
Knowing he won’t let you breathe until you do, you swallow the spit; it feels disgusting and degrading sliding down your throat but the humiliation burns with pleasure and you’re desperate for more.
“Good girl,” he smiles. “Not that hard to listen, is it?”
You scowl, squirming under his hold. Yes, it is that hard. You manage to wring your arms free enough to grab at his arm, trying to pull his hand off of your face. In the panic one of your nails digs into his forearm and he growls, pulling you forward just to slam you backwards again. Your ears are ringing and his hand is pressed even tighter across your mouth and nose.
“Disobedient little bitch,” he hisses, “you want me to fuck you up?”
Yes, fuck, please, your mind says. But you keep that on the inside, and instead of begging or submitting or doing any of the things your body is screaming and pleading for you to do, you bite down. You bite down hard.
The taste of blood is a small victory as he shouts, snatching his hand away from you but this time he doesn’t give you the chance to get away; you make it a few steps before he grabs your wrists, clutching them easily in his injured hand, forcing them behind you back and twisting them painfully to hold you in place so he can backhand you again— and again, and again. You scream in pain, but if he notices, he doesn’t care. His expression is livid, eyes black and burning with rage. “Fucking. Little. Bitch.” Each word is punctuated by a hard slap, knocking the wind out of you over and over.
“Someone needs to put you in your fucking place,” he growls. “Dumb little sex slave.”
The word hits you somewhere deep, stomach twisting into knots as wetness pools. Slave. Fuck.
“I’m not your fucking sex slave,” you bite back and he laughs.
“You don’t know what the fuck you are. Stop squirming.” He twists your arms a little further, teetering on the edge of too far. You whine, straining against him and he cooes. “Hurts, baby?”
“Yes it fucking hurts,” you snap.
He snorts, amused. His eyes darken again as he leans in closer. “Any more attitude and I’ll fucking break them.”
You can’t help the gasp that escapes you, fear pushing through your veins again. His grip on your arms is iron and you know he could snap them with ease. But would he really? You say nothing, staring up at him with wide, pleading eyes. He grins.
“Don’t think I won’t,” he laughs. “I’ll break every bone in your body if it’ll keep you pliant.”
“I’ll do it one by one,” he continues. His grip on your wrists tightens again but he doesn’t twist any further; still toeing the line. “Nice and slow so you feel it all,” he smiles, and you know he’s imagining it as he speaks. You wish you could say you weren’t. “Let you hear the crack of each bone snapping in half until you’re completely destroyed. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
You shake your head, voice quivering. “No.”
“Good.”
You scowl, squirming again to show your displeasure. “Let me go, Yunho.”
He hadn’t told you what to call him, but you decide to take a gamble that he doesn’t want you using his name and you’re right— he grabs your neck, pressing down hard enough to make you dizzy. “Call me that again,” he hisses, “and I’ll slit your fucking throat. Got it?”
You catch the whimper before it leaves your throat but you can’t stop your pussy from leaking even more than it already was. You didn’t know you could be so terrified or so horny. But you’re not giving up yet.
“You call me sir,” he says, “is that clear?”
You smile thinly. “Yes, sir,” you say, so sweet and polite that he sees right through it. He raises an eyebrow, waiting for your next move and it comes in the form of a wad of spit, landing like a bullet between his eyes.
Then you’re on the bed. You’re landing on the bed, shoved down and he’s crawling over you, holding you down with his weight and— there’s a knife on your throat.
Your eyes widen, all your blood rushing to your head at once. A knife… he’d never mentioned a knife. On your profile you’d said you were open to knife play, but he was so meticulous when he went through all the kinks he was planning that you thought… Well, you didn’t think he’d have a knife.
“Oh, that got your attention, didn’t it?” He grins. There’s a fire, a dangerous gleam in his eyes that hadn’t been there before and you feel it in the deepest parts of your body. You feel something else, too, and it burns just as brightly as your arousal. As he presses the knife down just enough to sting, you realise you are genuinely, truly afraid of Yunho. And yet…
Yunho sees it too; “fucking gushing,” he spits. “You’re more sick than I am. Don’t act like a victim now.”
You whine, squirming slightly and he hums thoughtfully.
“Or do,” he decides. “Actually, I’m sort of hoping you don’t do what I tell you. I’d love to watch the light leave your eyes when you finally stop struggling.”
Your breath hitches, caught in your throat. You don’t… you don’t know how you feel about this. You knew he’d be intense; the reviews had painted a clear picture of just how much he feeds off of fear. But there’s a wild, uncontrolled look in his eyes as he threatens your life so casually, so smoothly, that makes you wonder…
No. You know it’s fake. It’s all fake. You know it’s just a game and you know he’d stop if you said the safe word he gave you. But the knife at your neck is real. The darkness in his eyes is real. The fear is real. And he sees it in your eyes, his lips twitching into a small smile as though he can tell the exact moment you accept it. “Good girl,” he purrs. “Are you ready to listen?”
You say nothing, glowering up at him. He smiles, tilting his head.
“Open your mouth.”
Fuck no. This isn’t over. You meet his eyes with your mouth firmly, resoundingly shut. You purse your lips for good measure, determined to disobey.
His hand collides with your face again; the back of it, this time, and the feeling of his knuckles against your cheek makes you cry out before you can stop yourself. He seizes the opportunity of your parted lips and plunges two gloved fingers into your mouth. You choke, spluttering and he tuts, looking disappointed. Even with fingers in your throat, you feel like a naughty, scolded child beneath his firm gaze.
“See,” he says, his voice low, “I could make this so much worse for you. It’s in your best interest to do what I tell you.”
His fingers push in deeper and you feel the bile rising; you thrash and panic in his hold and he snorts, finally easing up. As you gasp for breath, he pulls his fingers away, a string of drool following him from your mouth and coating his fingers. He wipes them down on his pressed pants, looking disgusted. “Fucking mutt,” he spits. “Let’s put you to good use.”
Before you can register what’s happening, his dick is pushing into your mouth and fuck he’s massive. You can hardly hold him in your throat and your vision blurs with tears even before he starts to move— when he does, he wastes no time starting slow; he goes straight to fucking your mouth with hard, deep thrusts and you feel your tears and saliva cascading down onto your chest. You must look disgusting, but you’ve never heard anyone sound as feral as he does.
Just as you’re getting used to the feeling, he pulls out. His cock slaps against your face before he flips you over, bending you painfully over the edge of the bed. He doesn’t waste time prepping you — not that he needs to with the way you’re dripping — before forcing himself into your tight hole. You scream, feeling yourself being torn apart and he laughs, pushing your head into the mattress. “Fucking bitch,” he growls. His low voice is barely heard above the slapping of his skin on yours and the lewd squelching of your sopping pussy. You burn with humiliation but you can hardly think of anything but the pain of being stretched open and the force of his thrusts. You sob into the sheets but he doesn’t care, only getting rougher each time you cry out.
“Take it,” he barks, “you’ve been waiting for this dick your entire fucking life. So fucking take it.”
“S-sir,” you gasp. You thrash as much as you can under his iron grip, dizzy with pain and pleasure.
He snarls, hand landing hard on your ass. “Drop the act, bitch,” he growls. “I know you fucking love this. Clench.”
Still sobbing, you do your best to obey, clenching your pussy around his dick and it sends a jolt of electricity through your body. He groans, movement stuttering slightly under the new pressure on his dick.
“Fuck,” he grunts. “Such a pretty little victim. With a tight fucking hole.”
You feel his orgasm approaching; all the pent-up energy and frustration of fighting and subduing you pulsing through his dick as it pounds against your walls. His grip tightens on your waist, other arm coming to wrap around your neck, holding you in a chokehold as he finally releases inside you.
He grunts and moans through his orgasm and you feel the warmth of his cum filling you up before he finally collapses on top of you, pulling out quickly.
“Good girl,” he breathes. “It’s over, baby.”
The dam breaks. Your low, desperate sobs give way to full blown weeping, your whole body shivering with each cry. A million emotions, previously drowned out by pain and fear and pleasure, are suddenly at the surface, pushing against your skin and desperate to break through. You couldn’t name or number them if you tried but you don’t have to, because Yunho is there— his hands are on your skin, voice in your ear as he soothes you with whispered words you can’t comprehend.
“I’ve got you,” you finally make out. He says it again and again, over and over. It forms a familiar rhythm you can follow and cling to as you come back down to earth.
I’ve got you.
I’ve got you.
I’ve got you.
He’s there when the fog clears, cradling your aching body in his arms. His smile is soft and fond but there’s a concern in his eyes as he looks you up and down. “How do you feel?” He asks.
You open your mouth but no words come; you make a soft, content-sounding noise, the best you can do for now, and he chuckles. “I’ll take that as ‘you’re fine’, then.”
He shifts slightly, adjusting you to hold you closer to his chest. You follow his heartbeat as it thuds lowly in his chest. You hadn’t expected this, really; he’d said aftercare was a non-negotiable for him, so you knew he wasn’t going to just fuck you and dip, but the care and tenderness with which he cradles and soothes you is almost as electric as the brutality of before. It’s as funny as it was, you suppose, inevitable— this man has violated you in every way, and yet you’ve never felt more safe than you do in his arms. Two separate faces; opposing but inseparable.
A while later, he asks if he can give you a bath and you nod. You’re strangely embarrassed as he lowers you into the hot water, quietly soothing you when you hiss as it touches the wounds on your ass and thighs; maybe it’s the tenderness of his care or the knowledge that every mark on your body was put there by him, but you feel oddly exposed.
Still, he’s careful as he holds you still, letting your aching joints soak as he cleanses you of the remnants of what he just did to you. When he lifts you out, wrapping you in a soft towel and carrying you back to bed, you feel like you’re floating on a cloud.
Your voice returns soon enough, and quickly something pushes through to the front of your mind. Still slightly in the haze of subspace as the last drops of adrenaline dissipate, it seems like a reasonable, if not pertinent question.
“Yunho,” you say. He makes a ‘hm?’ noise, squeezing your thigh in recognition. “Would you really have broken my bones?”
He laughs, and you feel his body shaking slightly. It feels… warm. Familiar. “No,” he says. “That’s just part of the game. My favourite part, actually.”
“What part?”
“Making you wonder if it’s really a game.”
Through the aching pain of your pussy, you feel a slight twinge, making you clench unconsciously. Oh.
“You had a safeword,” he says. “So I knew I could push you. But I didn’t do anything I wasn’t sure would make your little pussy throb.”
You can’t help but blush at his words, mewling slightly as you snuggle further into his hold. You could stay like this, wrapped in his strong arms and held securely against his chest, for a long, long time. You wonder if he could, too.
“Yunho,” you say softly.
“Will you stay?”
You glance at him nervously, afraid of his answer. He smiles, holding you closer. “As long as you need,” he says.
-
thank you for reading! comments/feedback/reblogs are appreciated! requests are open! love🖤🖤🖤
taglist open!
942 notes · View notes
dcxdpdabbles · 1 month ago
Text
Holiday request: single dad
Bruce admits that he is unsure of the seriousness of his relationship with Daniel Fenton. He had never meant to run into the man after the parent-teacher conference. Yes, his introduction had a breath of fresh air, but Bruce was not naive.
It may have all been a trick, and Fentong was merely waiting to try to get closer to him or his money later on. He has always been optimistic about the good in man's hearts, but Bruce is also familiar with the equal darkness there.
That's why spotting the man in a busy cafe was such a shock. Bruce had gone on a walk between meetings, wanting something sweet to tie him over for the follow-up one.
He walked into a random family-owned place with a spicy smell. Bruce had been browsing the menu when he heard the soft melody for Fairy Tale Ending by Dumpty Humpty. Looking around a pillar, he found Daniel Fenton bobbing his head to the music while tapping away on his old beat-up laptop.
The cashier sees him staring and smiles apologetically. "We don't usually have people here, so we let him play his music. If it bothers you, I can ask him to get his headphones on."
"Oh no. I actually like the band." He assures her, paying for his drink and dropping a ten in her tip jar. He glances at Fenton again, then points, "What is he drinking?"
"Gingerbread Latte and a chocolate croissant," She responds easily, and at that moment, Bruce knows she hasn't recognized him. Not that he expects everyone on the street to point him out in a crowd, but it does mean she won't take pictures of him.
She doesn't know the photos could get her some money from down-on-their-luck gossip rags. He considers Fenton a little longer before nodding at her. "Can I have a gingerbread Latte? The exact same as his."
"You got it."
Bruce doesn't know what urges him to approach Fenton with the two drinks- though the cashier giving him a wink might have clued him in and clears his throat just as Fenton gets to the chorus. Blue eyes blink up at him. "Oh, Mr. Wayne. Hi."
"Good afternoon," Bruce starts, which causes Fenton to snort. With good-natured humor, he grins up at Bruce, and Bruce feels his intrigue rise just a few notches higher.
"Good afternoon to you as well, milord." The man says, one hand over his chest, bending his neck a little in a mock bow. "Has thy golden carriage brought to thy to me?"
"Having a golden carriage is a privilege for only the Roayl family. My carriage is made of silver, I assure you." Bruce laughs, stepping closer. This is different from the cashier. Fenton knows who he is, but he simply doesn't care.
Bruce is merely Bruce to him instead of the wealthiest man in the city and the country. It's....well, it's liberating, like being reminded that there are good and wonderful things still left in life. If this is how Fenton makes him feel only after the second meeting, what else could Bruce experience if he formed a bond with him?
Fenton's eyes catch the extra drink Bruce holds, lighting up when the other man offers it to him. He accepts the cup, offering the chair opposite from him. When Brue sits down, he asks about what he was writing where. Fenton admits to being a fantasy novelist and moves the conversation to what they enjoy reading.
Bruce arrived late to his next meeting but felt lighter, and a phone number scribbled on the back of his hand just like when he was a teenager and traveling states away to attend Dumpty Humpty Concerts.
The rest, like they say, is history.
Danny had quickly become a part of his life. It was odd how giggly the other man made him feel. Danny was a good balance to Bruce's brooding. Ironically, while Bruce believed the best in humans, keeping a calm center persona, Danny was cynical and bubbly. He assumed people were terrible, but there was no reason to give them any mind, and he was unapologetic for being himself.
After their third date, Bruce has worked up the nerve to ask Danny to be his boyfriend, only to have the other man laugh. "I thought we were boyfriends?"
"I didn't want to assume."
"Well, aren't you a gentleman? Look at those soft hands. You've never seen a day of work. Gentle-handed man," Danny teased while watching the people around them. Bruce knew there wasn't any real danger, but Danny had a habit of watching their surroundings in public places.
He didn't like being caught unaware. Bruce thinks he's in love. The thing is, Bruce has thought that before, and every single time, his relationship had fallen through.
He had a hand in it, but that didn't mean his partners never broke his heart one way or another.
But this time, things would be different.
Dick had pointed it out when he ran into the two at the grocery store. Danny had invited him to help pick out dinner while Dani had been on an overnight field trip at the planetarium. His eldest had cornered him when he returned the next day, smiling widely.
"Danny seems excellent. He's like an undercover goth dating an undercover prep. You both are literally the opposite of each other and seem to like spending time around each other."
Bruce wasn't entirely sure whether it was a bad or good thing, but he was happy that his kids approved of him dating again. He did get a little nervous about Damian, only to find out his youngest had come to idolize Dani, and that only made him hope the relationship would work out even more.
He could see it now, Danny tapping away on his laptop while Dani painted next to him in the Wayne Manor yard- Both preferred to be in nature- on cozy weekends. His children crowding the breakfast table while Danny sang songs from bands he'd never heard.
Birthday candles are being blown out with the cheering family. Christmas mornings followed the candle lighting of Hanukkah on the previous eight nights. Graduation ceremonies that will bring Bruce to tears despite claiming he has trained too hard to do so. Boyfriends and girlfriends, the two could tag team into scaring while their children regretted ever bringing them over for an introduction.
Danny would be the last thing he saw when he closed his eyes before bed and the first thing he saw in the morning light.
Bruce wasn't sure how their relationship was going, but he hoped, oh, he hoped.
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callie-the-creator · 10 months ago
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ayato aishi dating a yandere!reader hcs
sfw. warnings: yandere & obsessive behavior, jealousy, mentions of elimination of rivals, etc.
author’s note: this was also posted on my wattpad, just wanted to tell you all that beforehand, so no need to worry!
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• when he realized that you were the same as him, ayato turned into the surprised pikachu meme, just looking at you all like: (ʘᗩʘ')
• but how did ayato find out, exactly? well...it took him a good few days to connect the dots fully. he didn't suspect you to be a yandere until well into dating you, that's when he started noticing things. a few of his shirts and other garments were missing— which is to be expected— but when he asked you about them, you pretended like you had no clue what happened to them which further deepened his curiosity. next, ayato began to pick up on things like whenever he wouldn't be hanging out with you and would be out doing whatever, he'd miraculously bump into you. quite the coincidence, isn't it? that's what ayato tried to chalk it up to at first but soon found out that you were following him around.
• soooo, one day when you were out of your house with your family, ayato took it upon himself to snoop
— he climbed into the window leading into your bedroom and practically turned the place upside down. of course, he was careful. he didn't want to give off the impression to you, along with your family, that he was ever here. ayato started by going through your drawers and found some of his clothes stashed inside (which he may or may not have stolen back) before opening your closet where he came face to face with a shrine dedicated to him.
— it was nothing compared to his, sure, but it was still impressive. not only that, but you had printed out some photos of him and littered them around the shrine.
• after he was looking through things, he left with his stolen clothes in tow but when you got back home and returned to your room, you felt something was off because of one thing that caught your attention: the window was open, something you definitely weren't responsible for. afraid that one of your parents was in your room or worse, you began looking around only to find that ayato's shirts and boxers that you had taken a while back had disappeared. scoffing, you pulled out your phone and texted him: "were you in my room??"
— ayato, as expected, tried to deny this but you easily saw through this act of his because you were well aware of the fact that before you agreed to be his girlfriend, he was stalking you. what followed was a conversation where both of you just let things hang out and confessed to a slew of things, you more so than ayato but luckily, you two continued to date after this (but it's not like either one of you would let the other leave willingly).
• you and ayato constantly vie for each other's attention, engaging in elaborate schemes to outdo one another in displays of affection; from leaving love notes hidden in unexpected places to planning extravagant surprises.
• you two are fiercely protective of each other, to the point where you may occasionally clash with anyone they perceive as a threat to your relationship
— ayato is more physical about it though. there will be times when he'll show up at your doorstep all bruised and bloody. he loves how worried you look when you help clean him up! even more when you pout, thinking he was the one who got hurt, and embrace him in a hug as you play with his hair
— when you get jealous over someone, it's the complete opposite. you're vocal about it, maybe not to ayato, but to the person you view as a rival. so, when you find them the next day at school, you'll outright tell them that ayato is your boyfriend. if they continue to be a problem, that's when you'll take things to the next level and eliminate them.
• both of you are skilled manipulators, adept at bending others to their will, testing each other's boundaries, and pushing the limits of control but they would only do the latter to their partner. though, there is really a 50/50 chance that their manipulation and gaslighting would work on another.
• anyway, good luck dating each other because you can't leave haha 🫡
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wonderjanga · 3 months ago
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I’m Never Going Back to That Farm
Clark was talking to Marvel and he realized the man didn’t have anyone to celebrate Christmas with. So, he invited him over. Cause why not? Might as well spread some Christmas spirit. What he didn’t expect was…
Ma Kent: “Clark, your home!” *hugs her son*
Supes: “It’s good to see you too Ma
Ma Kent: “Oh, and who is your little friend-” *looks over to Marvel before doing a double take* “C.C.?”
Marvel: “Huh?”
Ma Kent: “Oh my God, C.C. is that really you?” *turns around to call Pa Kent* “Honey! Come here and look who Clark brought over!”
Supes and Marvel: *share a look*
Pa Kent: “What’s wrong Martha?” *comes from the kitchen* “Charley!? Is that really is you?” *rubs his eyes and looks again* “God, we thought you died in the plane crash! Also, Jesus, you’ve grown 2 feet.”
Supes: “Your name is Charley?” *looks over to Marvel*
Ma Kent: “Oh no sweetie, it’s Clarence, but this guy thought the name was too boring. So we either called him Charley or C.C.”
Marvel: “Haha… Yeah.” *oozing awkwardness*
Supes: *staring with a hint of betrayal*
As for why Clark felt betrayed? Well, his parents knew about Marvel’s entire secret identity before he even did! But, that betrayal was quickly forgotten when his Ma and Pa decided to go down memory lane and pull out a box Clark had never seen before.
Supes: “What’s all this?”
Ma Kent: “Just some old keepsakes your father and I look back on every now and then.”
Pa Kent: *pulls out a photo* “Oh I remember this one. One of my biggest races.” *shows a photo of Ma and Pa Kent, and C.C. and Marilyn all smiling at the camera while Pa Kent is holding a second place trophy*
Supes: “Are you wearing a leather jacket here? Also who’s that?” *points to Marilyn*
Marvel: “That’s my uh…” *looks to the Ma and Pa Kent before looking back to Clark* “My wife?”
Supes: “Wife?!”
Ma Kent: *ignores him* “Speaking of her, where is Marilyn? Did she not come along? Are you two still married?”
Marvel: *also ignores him* “Oh uhm… She didn’t survive the crash.” *still super awkward*
*silence*
Ma Kent: “Oh Charles… I’m so sorry.”
Pa Kent: “And the kids?”
Supes: “Kids?!”
Marvel: *continues ignoring him* “They’re doing good. Mary and Billy are twelve now.”
Ma Kent: “Oh that’s just wonderful. Say, Clark, isn’t Jon the same age as Charley’s kids?”
Supes: “He’s a year younger.”
Pa Kent: *puts the photo of the four of them back into the box* “You two should set up a little playdate.”
Marvel: “Maybe.” *awkward smile*
So now Clark is completely floored. This man that he’s known for nearly 5 years has had a wife who died??? Not only that, but he has two whole children??? Also Cap knew his parents when they were younger??? He’s definitely going to ask more about that playdate though. Jon should have more superpowered friends his age.
Later during dinner…
Pa Kent: “You know, Charley it surprises me how much you haven’t changed.”
Marvel: “Huh…? Whatdya mean?” *shoveling food in his mouth because it delicious*
Ma Kent: “Well, for starters, you look the exact same.” *little laugh as she puts more food on Marvel’s plate*
Pa Kent: “And when you’re not being super awkward, your personality hasn’t changed all that much either.”
Marvel: “You’ve noticed me being awkward?”
Supes: “It’d be kind of hard not to notice, Cap.”
Billy found out more about his parents from this one Christmas alone than he had in his entire life up until now. That is why he will not be coming back to this farm ever again. He’ll send Christmas cards, he might even send a gift or two, but never again. He doesn’t want these two to realize their friend is actually dead. They’re sweet little old people who don’t deserve that. But other than all that, Billy is super happy to find out he and his dad are very similar in personality. It makes him feel closer to the man.
Also, I went on Wikipedia to learn more about the Kent’s and apparently Pa Kent was a race car driver so in case anybody was confused about the race thing, there’s your explanation.
Also, also, as for how the Batsons and the Kents knew each other? Let’s say that Marilyn grew up in Smallville and met Martha. Then Marilyn moved away to Fawcett, but the two still kept in touch. Then both of the women met their respective husbands and they all got together to be a nice little friend group. And then, you know, the Batsons died.
Also, also, also, after this whole thing, Clark started calling Billy Charley or C.C. which made Billy violently flinch when it first happened. After a while though, he grew used to it because he’d rather be called Charley and have someone think he’s C.C. Batson instead of someone thinking he’s Billy.
Also, also, also, also, (I’m sorry I can’t help but add more) when Clark thought no one was looking, he whipped out his phone and took several pictures of the photo of the Kents and Batsons. Or more accurately, he took photos of the part of the picture with C.C. in a leather jacket. Marvel just didn’t seem like the type so he wanted recorded evidence so he could be sure he wasn’t crazy.
Alright I’m done now. Super duper early Christmas post, yay!
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ylangelegy · 3 months ago
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After MAMA awards I'M VERY PROUD OF MY BOYS and seeing Woozi crying, nooooo my mannnnn
So can I request Woozi or anyone after awards, all members celebrating with their partners hehe LOVE YOUUU!!!
PLEASE PLEASE 🛐🛐
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🍑 i will really live the rest of my life repaying you.
you don't see seungcheol until the next day. such is the life of the general leader, it seems— the never-ending heralding, the non-stop worrying. he deals with his boys, first, then the fans, then the staff. but once that's all done, he's at your front door, collapsing into your arms before he's even past through the entryway. it doesn't matter how many awards its been. he is still overwhelmed by it every single time, and you are a soft place to land. he comes home to you and whispers the sweetest nothings in your hair. i'm so proud of them and they did so well and they're so happy. as he holds you tight— like you're the only thing keeping him upright— it's your turn to let him hear those words. i'm so proud of you. you did so well. you get to be happy, too.
the jeonghan on the other end of the video call has been quiet for the most part of the past half-hour. you'd be more worried if you hadn't already predicted where his solemness was coming from. "hannie? still with me?" you prompt gently, and he finally tears his gaze away from the ceiling to look back at you. "yeah. yeah, i'm with you," he answers. a beat. there are some things you no longer have to say out loud. how he wishes he was there. how he misses them and tries not to let it show. instead, you give him a reminder that's quiet and firm. "this is yours, too," you say. this award. this moment. these boys. all still his. there's a ghost of a smile on his face as he mumbles, "right. of course. how could i forget."
joshua likes keeping lists. a running one he has with you is that of gratitude, where the two of you try to end each day with acknowledgements of what you're grateful for. you're expecting a whole essay for him after tonight. he surprises you by keeping it short, sweet, and straight to the point. in no particular order, he types out into your shared note. music, the boys, you. hours later, he adds a footnote like it'd occurred to him as an afterthought: i'm always grateful for those three, but especially so today.
"look at them!" jun shrieks. his video call pixelates, either from spotty connection or his sudden burst of enthusiasm. you have half a mind to warn him that he may get a noise complaint again, but this time it'd be completely warranted. he's positively vibrating with excitement, his eyes glued to the livestream of his twelve brothers ascending the stage for their second award of the night. "look at them," he repeats, and this time his voice is more reverent than anything. you could comply, could do as he's asking, but your eyes are trained elsewhere. and look at you, too, you want to say. look at you and all that you've done to get this far.
even though it's been an exceptionally long day, soonyoung comes home brimming with adrenaline. he does dance routines in your living room. he jogs around your block until you beg him to just come back. he sings in the shower before collapsing onto the bed next to you, where he suddenly becomes boneless. the glow of pride stays even as the exhaustion hits. he pulls you against him and cuddles right into you. to soonyoung, this is as good as any trophy: the peace that comes with falling asleep next to you.
wonwoo has no destination in mind. he has a car with a full tank, and a playlist of all his favorite songs, and you in the passenger seat. that's more than enough. you pass through tunnels with warm lighting; expressways where he keeps the windows down so the wind will whip at your hair. occasionally, you'll stop to grab a snack or take a photo of something interesting on the side of the street. after hours of just going in circles, he'll ask, "should we keep driving?" even though he knows you'd never deny him this. this. his little celebration in the form of getting 'lost' with you.
nobody hears from jihoon for the next couple of days. the managers are worried, but the boys all just shake their heads and say that he's in good hands. which means: he's wherever you are. the two of you don't talk about his speech, about his public breakdown, because both things make him want to hide forever. instead— he sleeps in. he watches movies from months ago that he promised he'd get to. the two of you go on walks at night, and have breakfast at lunch time. the vicious cycle will soon have to begin again. jihoon knows that. but for a few, precious moments, his heart is not a heavy burden because it's safe and sound in your capable hands.
seokmin takes you on the textbook definition of your perfect date. a shopping spree? here's his black card. an amusement park? he'll rent out lotte world for the day, if he must. you're understandably baffled. he's the one who just won big, and yet you're the one being treated like royalty. try to resist and he'll only push back on you. seokmin already spoils you enough as is, but this is just a little more over-the-top than the day-to-day stuff. at the end of it all, his rationale is as sweet as it gets. "you keep me going," he tells you. "and so you deserve just as much credit as i do."
mingyu has always liked to celebrate with a meal. you'd expected his usual fare of some swanky restaurant or high-end café, but, this time, he asks for only free reign of your kitchen. he props his phone up against the salt shaker and pulls up a youtube video before flashing you his best 'just-trust-me' grin. your trust is not misplaced; the two of you do manage to bake the celebratory cake, though whether it's any good is an entirely different story. the end result doesn't matter as much as the process. mingyu is happiest about the flour marks on your cheeks, about the kisses he steals while you whisk eggs. it's not a birthday cake, but you light up a candle for him anyway. just for the hell of it. "make a wish," you tease. he's looking straight at you as he blows at the flame.
minghao asks for a beach day. the two of you set out for the nearest one. maybe the sand is a bit rocky; the shore, lacking in shells. he doesn't care. he only seeks out the sun beating on his back, the saltwater clinging to his skin, the first punch of air after emerging from the water. as the stolen weekend winds to a close, the two of you sit at the point where the water lap at your toes. neither of you have to speak. here, minghao lets the tide wash away the ache of homesickness. here, minghao redefines 'home' as a future with the boys of his youth, with the music that is as constant as the waves— and with you, of course.
the ferry ride to jeju is about four or so hours long, but seungkwan doesn't mind. there's just something so right about getting on the first vessel that will take him back where he has family waiting with a homecooked meal and a play-by-play of the award show. besides, the ferry means having four hours of uninterrupted leisure time with you. the pair of you literally have nowhere else to be except this boat and this point in time, which seungkwan is a little guilty to be so happy about. he's a glutton for your time and attention, and these ferry rides— these trips home— remind him just how much he likes taking the scenic route.
vernon treats it almost like it's just another day. almost. you're thrown off by his initial nonchalance, by the lack of utter fanfare in the way he asks you out to lunch and the two of you barely discuss the recent accolades. when you prompt him about it, you realize it's not because of arrogance or ignorance. "we're just doing what we always do," he says with an expression of mild confusion. winning?, you almost inquire half-jokingly, but that's only part of it. he elaborates, "we were just ourselves, y'know?"
when chan suggests a rage room, you're understandably confused. the wrath-based activity doesn't seem like the most optimal celebration, but you're not about to cramp his style. the two of you queue the angriest songs known to man before smashing some defunct appliances and throwing empty bottles against a wall. once your time is up, chan looks at you with that familiar spark of fire in his eyes. that dedication you fell in love with, that passion that has always burned bright. "again?" he asks, and you know it's not just the rage room that he's asking for.
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adrienneleclerc · 3 months ago
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Día de Muertos
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Mexican! Reader
Summary: Per Mexican tradition, Y/N makes an altar for her family members that passed away. She added Charles’s family members as well
Warning: spelling and grammatical errors, death, inaccuracies
A/N: This was the first time I put up an ofrenda and since today is Day of the Dead, it’s fitting
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The best thing about dating a Formula 1 driver is the traveling. Y/N joined Charles in all his races, mainly because she is able to work from home as an event planner. So when they were in Mexico City for the Grand Prix, she bought papel picado, sugar skulls, and little dog alebrijes. Now that they are in Brazil, Y/N bought candles, a table cloth, marigolds, and printed out photos to set up the altar.
Y/N made it back to the hotel while Charles was in the track for free practice. She placed the table cloth over the hotel room desk, added the papel picado and marigold before placing the photos in the place card holder. There was one of her aunt that died from cancer, her grandpa that died of old age, Jules, and Hervé. Onces the little altar was set up exactly how she wanted it, she placed the candles near their photos and added the sugar skulls and alebrijes wherever there was an empty space.
Though Y/N wasn’t in Mexico anymore, there are Mexican restaurants in Brazil and she ordered her aunt’s and grandpa’s favorite food plus pan de muerto to have it delivered to the hotel. There was a knock on the door and when Y/N opened it, expecting to see a hotel employee with Mexican food, she saw her boyfriend.
“Muñeco, i thought you would still be in the track.” Y/N said, charles leaned in and kissed Y/N on the cheek before walking into their hotel room.
“We finished, what’s all this?” Charles asked, pointing to the table.
“Right. Well, today is day of the dead and usually I’m in my apartment to make this ofrenda but now I’m dating you so I brought the ofrenda with me.” Y/N explained but Charles looked confused. “Um, it’s an altar, it’s a way to honor my dead relatives and welcome their spirits to our home. I usually go all out but this is a hotel room and I don’t want the fire alarm to go off.” Y/N explained and Charles looked closer at the ofrenda and saw a picture of Jules and another one of his father.
“You put them up?” Charles asked in a whisper, he felt his eyes getting teary, picking up the photo of him and his dad.
“I know you miss them a lot, everything you are doing in formula 1 in for them, I thought it would be nice to add them to the ofrenda. I know this isn’t really your tradition but it’s mine and I want to share it with you.” Y/N said softly, Charles looked at her and kissed her forehead.
“Thank you, Mon ange, that is very sweet of you, really.” Charles said.
“Um, it’s tradition to add their favorite food on the altar. I ordered some Mexican for my aunt and grandpa, what did Jules and your dad like to eat?” Y/N asked.
“I Don’t think we could get it here but they liked…” Charles told Y/N their favorite foods.
“I’m sure we could order it from somewhere.” Y/N said. There was a knock and Y/N opened the door, it was the food she ordered. She got the food and gave the man a tip before walking back to Charles. “We also have this bread that’s called pan de muerto, we place it on the ofrenda too.”
“I’m sure they would enjoy the bread.” Charles said smiling. He opened the bag to help Y/N place the bread on the table. “So when we were is Mexico and you told me you were shopping, you were preparing for this?”
“Of course! I’m still Mexican, Muñeco, my tradition won’t change because I’m in another country.” Y/N said and Charles chuckled. Y/N placed the food in front of her aunt’s and grandpa’s picture.
“Maybe next year you can put up the ofrenda in my place.” Charles said.
“You mean that?” Y/N asked.
“I do, we haven’t been dating long but I feel very happy with you, happier than I have been in a long time.” Charles said before he kissed Y/N softly.
“I feel happy with you too. Oh, do you want some bread? It’s really good.” Y/N said, grabbing a loaf (?) and offering it to charles.
“Sure.” Charles said, tearing off of a piece of bread to taste. He hummed in content. “This is really good, do they sell this a lot on Mexico for day of the dead?”
“Yes they do, Mexican bread is the best.” Y/N said,
“I Can tell. I’m going to send a picture of the altar to my mom, is that okay?” Charles asked.
“Yeah, it’s okay.” Y/N said and Charles took a picture of the altar, making sure Pascale could clearly see his dad and Jules. He sent it to his mom and got a response in 2 minutes.
“My mom said it’s very sweet and considerate of you to add my dad and Jules.” Charles said.
“I May not have met them but I know how much they mean to you, I couldn’t leave them out.” Y/N said, looking down all shy. Charles brought his his finger under her chin to make her look at him,
“I love you so much, thank you for this.” Charles said before kissing her deeply.
“Don’t mention it.” Y/N said as soon as they separated from the kiss. They hugged each other. “I think we should watch Coco.” Charles laughed at her suggestion. “Well how else are you supposed to get the day of the dead?”
“Fine, let’s see if you can connect you phone to the hotel TV.” Charles said.
And that’s how they spent Día de Muertos, watching Coco on Disney plus and eating pan de muerto.
The End
Hope y’all liked it!
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darlingdaisyfarm · 3 months ago
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texting Stan and Ford headcanons
smut version
˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ Stan Pines
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✧ Stan is the kinda guy who thinks emojis are a scam, but somehow, he figured out how to use the "thumbs up" and "money bag" emoji. so, expect a lot of those in your chats.
✧ his text tone is rough, a little misspelled, typed like he's yelling even when he isn’t. Half of his texts are in all caps, and he absolutely does not care about grammar. but he gets the point across, always.
✧ you’re getting messages at 3 am about some ‘brilliant’ scheme to make a quick buck. he’ll send, “LISTEN, doll, what if we made... GIANT… glitter-filled eggs for easter? Tourists'll go NUTS." you reply, half-asleep, with “Stan, ily but go to bed." and all you get back is a “🤬 YOU GOTTA THINK BIGGER!”
✧ Stan sends those weird chain messages he swears are from some “hotshot businessman” that’ll make you rich in a week. and when you don’t respond immediately, you get a: “Fine, Miss Doubtful, see you when I’m rolling in gold.”
✧ there are whole days where he just floods your phone with random, blurry photos of some new Mystery Shack "artifact" he found. It’s usually junk he picked up at a garage sale, like a “haunted” ashtray or some knock-off painting that’s “probably ancient.”
✧ If he’s feeling sappy (and tipsy): you might get a rare “thinking bout you, sweet thing” at 2 am. but if you try to call him on it the next day, he’ll just be like “Didn’t say that. You’re makin’ stuff up.”
✧ when he’s really riled up about something, though? then his messages are just. . . a stream of caps-lock curses, mixed with misspelled attempts to describe whatever nonsense he just got himself into. you just sit back and let him rant; he’ll cool off eventually.
✧ and the voice messages are something else. they sound like he’s talking through a fan half the time. one minute, he’s rambling about how tourists are “the dumbest suckers on the planet” and the next, he’s ranting about how “bigfoot definitely broke into the shack last night!"
types of messages Stan texts: 
"So… whatcha wearin’? 😏"
“Hey doll, I just found a penny on the ground! Maybe today’s my lucky day… hint hint ;)"
"I’d say somethin’ romantic, but I think my brain just shorted out. You’re a little too cute for a guy like me."
"Just tried that new café downtown. Ordered coffee… tastes like they filtered it through someone’s laundry. You’d hate it. Wanna come mock it with me?"
"Not gonna lie, I miss that face of yours. So what’re we doin’ about it, huh?"
“Again missin’ that cute little smile of yours… maybe you could send me a pic to remind me?”
"Wanna help me scam the tourists today? I’ll split the loot with ya… maybe ;)”
"You wouldn’t believe what I caught Ford muttering in his sleep. Man’s like a walking encyclopedia, even when he’s unconscious."
“Got any plans later? Thought maybe we could… y’know… not have plans together."
˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ Ford Pines 
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✧ hehehehe he’s like an old-school emailer who’s just now getting the hang of messaging apps. texts in complete sentences, full punctuation, like he’s drafting a dissertation.
✧ He sends you whole paragraphs at random hours, talking about some discovery he’s made, like he’s reporting directly to NASA. you’re like, “Ford, it's just a weird-looking squirrel." and he's already typing another essay about its "possible interdimensional origins."
✧ once in a while, he’ll send you a message that says, “Are you awake?” at, like 3 am followed by a string of thoughtful yet completely bonkers hypotheses. you find it cute, though, his mind never stops, not even for a second.
✧ If he’s feeling bold, you might even get a “hypothetical” confession out of him: “Hypothetically, if one were to develop... strong emotional attachment to a certain person... how would one proceed?" You tease him about it the next day, and he gets flustered, “It was purely scientific curiosity."
✧ Ford isn’t big on emojis, but he likes the brain and alien ones, using them poetically. he’ll sign off texts with a single brain emoji, like it’s his version of a little goodbye wave.
✧ on really rare occasions, he’ll send a voice message. they’re always way too long, and it’s usually him whispering so he doesn’t wake Stan up. he goes on about cosmic rays or “gravity anomalies,” his voice dropping lower when he gets excited. you live for those moments
✧ and if he ever texts you a “good night,” you just know he’s been up thinking about it for hours, trying to figure out if it’s “appropriate.”
types of messages Ford texts: 
“It’s been approximately 3 hours, 12 minutes, and 23 seconds since our last conversation… not that I’m counting or anything. Just… miss you."
sends a meme about science nerds “Us. But mostly me.”
“My hands ache from writing… though perhaps if it were writing about you, I wouldn’t mind.”
“Do you think about me too, or am I the only one utterly ruined by this… whatever this is?”
“I’ve been thinking about that book you lent me... 🤔 It’s honestly so much more interesting than I expected, thank you for recommending it."
"I don’t know how to work this... But I managed to send a meme! It’s not the worst thing I’ve done, I suppose? 
“I did it. I fixed the telescope. Finally. Now we can actually look at the stars like we’ve talked about. :)"
"I hope you’re feeling okay today. I noticed you seemed a little stressed the other day. Don’t forget to take care of yourself. :) It’s important."
"If I could rearrange the periodic table, I’d put U and I together. :( Sorry, nerdy joke... :’D)”
ps - I CANT THEYRE SO CUTE BOTH I WANT TO SMASH THEM AGAINST THE WALL
lmao if someone wants, i can write some spicy types of chatting with them :)))
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gay-dorito-dust · 11 months ago
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How’d they react to you cuddling into his side randomly one day and then falling asleep…
Dan Heng/Imbibitor Lunae: stiff as a fucking bored and holding his breath as if that was going to wake you up.
He acts as though every little sound has been amplified to the max and will constantly shift his eyes towards you, almost as though he were expecting any sort of signs of disturbance within your once peaceful slumber.
It was so bad he has to look away from you to hide his burning face because he figured out that he might actually begin to enjoy this, enjoy the idea of you actively choosing him to sleep against. God his heart was going apeshit at the dies that you’d might like his company enough to be in a state of vulnerability with him.
His dragon noddle self (Imbibitor Lunae) is fucking delirious with the idea of his ‘mate’ sleeping against him. So much so that if his tail were visible now, it’d be wagging at a hundred miles an hour to the point it’s just a blur.
He secretly hates how it betrays his innermost thoughts to anyone nearby.
Blade: thinks there’s something genuinely wrong with you if you were willing to fall asleep next to him of all people.
Yet in the same breath he acts as your personal guard dog as you slept, keeping people from coming too close for comfort and or making loud, obnoxious noise with just a smile glare thrown their way.
He gets called soft but he honestly doesn’t give a flying fuck.
He acts like he wants to shove you away from him but the moment someone suggests moving you upon seeing how much he apparently ‘hates’ it, and all of a sudden Blade is holding you further again him and telling the person to fuck off under his breath.
He’s so hypocritical but no one dares say that to his face, especially not when he’s holding you against him protectively and glaring at anyone or anything that breathed or moved wrong. Yet when you’re awake, he’ll act like he did no such thing and go about his day like normal.
Argenti: takes this as an opportunity to gaze upon your beauty up close.
In his opinion you didn’t need beauty sleep because you were already as radiant as a freshly blossomed flower, but if you say you need it then who was he -your chivalrous knight- to argue against it.
Some people may think it’s weird that he’s looking at you so intently as you slept but Argenti always had a response at the ready, for he’d tell them that they’ve just never witnessed a beauty in it’s most natural form, to the point that it makes you utterly breathless and unable to look away.
He traces your every feature with his eyes and finds himself adding more onto the list of reasons of why he finds you so appealing, and in more ways than one.
Eye bags? Beautiful.
Stretch marks? Stunning.
Acne/acne scaring? Heavens have blessed you with your own set of unique constellations within your skin.
Argenti is addicted to looking at you while you are awake and it’s no different when you’re asleep either. He just loves that you trusted him enough to witness you like this and he’ll never take advantage of that. Ever.
Welt Yang: he takes care of you as you sleep soundly against his side.
He makes sure you are comfortable and undisturbed as you slept against his side, for seeing you look so at peace and free from all of your daily stresses only proved to warm his already soft heart.
He makes sure march 7th isn’t nearby, as much as he cares for that bubble gum pink haired girl like she was his own child, she was notoriously well known for her easily excitable nature; which wasn’t something you’d need when catching up on much needed sleep.
He’s already draping a blanket over you as we speak and shifting your position to a more comfortable one so that you wouldn’t wake up with a crick in your neck and irritability.
He’ll probably either carry you to bed or join you in your nap by lying himself down on the couch and pulling you up to his chest and holding you there.
It’s such a cute moment and march has photo proof that it happened. Multiple of them.
However papa Welt has a few questions in regard to your sleeping schedule if you were easily able to sleep against his side without issue. He loves you dearly but please for the love of god take better care of yourself or he fucking will.
This is a threat but then again you’d probably wouldn’t mind it if Welt took care of you….honestly same.
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