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whytheylosttheirminds · 2 months ago

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I Remember Everything - Rafe Cameron (Chapter 7)

Summary: You left the island two years ago, leaving the love of your life a shattered man in your wake. Now, when you return, you find the sweet boy you once loved has transformed into a monster of a man. How can you detangle the real Rafe from the terrible things he's done?

Timeline: begins toward the end of obx season 3 and is mostly canon.

Content: this story contains sexual content, alcohol and drug abuse, and brief mentions of violence. All chapters are 18+, minors do not interact!

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“You should put that down.”

Rafe stood in the doorway, glaring at you as you held up the gun you’d discovered in his father’s office. Your mind was whirling with questions as you looked back at him, the sunlight leaking through the windows reflected off the giant pile of gold and onto your face.

“What is all of this, Rafe?” You nearly whispered, your stomach twisting in sickened awe.

“Put the gun down,” his eyes were dark and his jaw clenched as he stalked toward you, arm outstretched.

You just looked back at the treasure you had uncovered, mesmerized by the enormity of it. There had to be hundreds of millions of dollars worth of gold and precious stones here. You weren’t even thinking of the gun in your hand when he reached you, taking it from you slowly and tucking it into his waistband.

He crowded your space with his towering frame, his stare menacing. You looked up at him nervously.

“You shouldn’t have come in here,” he growled.

“Rafe, you’re scaring me,” you warned him, your bottom lip quivering slightly.

“What are you doing tearing my house apart? Were you looking for the cross?” His mind was clearly somewhere else, flooded with a paranoia you’d never seen before. His pupils were dilated to pinpoints as he asked you questions you didn’t understand.

You started to back up and he followed you, his chest heaving as he berated you. “Is that why you came back, huh? Are you trying to get the gold? Are you working with those fucking pogues?”

With every sentence he stepped closer, and you continued to back away from him. You’d never seen him like this, so menacing, so unhinged.

“It wasn’t enough for you to break my heart?” His voice got louder with every word. The back of your legs hit the edge of his father’s wooden desk, nowhere left to go. “You had to come back to take what’s MINE?!”

On the last word, he raised his hand to gesture to the gold behind him, and you flinched. A terrified gasp left your lips and your eyes widened at the hand he was waving so close to your face.

Rafe’s whole body fell when he noticed your response. It dawned on him slowly, you flinched because you thought he was going to hit you. The fear on your face snapped him back to reality. You were scared of him.

“Baby, I-” he tried to rest his hand on your cheek but you jerked away from him, ducking under his arm so you were no longer pinned between him and the desk.

“Stay away from me,” your voice shook as you crossed the room to put space between yourself and Rafe.

Rafe took you in, your eyes wide like an animal caught in a trap. His heart shattered at the thought that you, the only person in the world he didn’t want to be intimidated by him, truly believed that he was about to hurt you. Tears stung his bottom lashes and he searched for the words to undo the damage he’d just done. As he looked at you cowering in the corner, barely able to meet his eyes, he realized he suddenly wasn’t seeing you anymore, he was seeing Sarah.

“It’s me, Rafe - your sister,” She had cried when he lunged for her, before she couldn’t speak anymore because he was holding her under the water.

He hadn’t had a full night’s sleep since he’d heard those words. His brain never gives him reprieve from the crushing guilt of seeing her gasp for air, trying to flee him, fearing for her life due to her big brother’s temper. He hadn’t meant it, he wished he could take it back. Now Sarah would hate him forever, she’d made that much clear. Was he about to lose you the way he lost her? He’d find a way to manage through life without his sister, but if you stopped loving him, he might just sink into the floor and die.

“Baby, please, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he tried to keep his voice steady as he raised his hands, like he was trying to prove they weren’t dangerous.

“Don’t call me that,” you snapped, tears flowing freely now.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry. Just please come back over here,” he begged.

“No, I don’t trust you” you sobbed.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” his voice was pained. “I would never hurt you.”

“Something’s wrong with you, Rafe,” you spat. “You need to tell me what’s going on. Where’d that gold come from? What’s the cross? Is it the reason you were arrested?”

“I can’t,” he pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to maintain his composure even though he could feel his blood pressure rising again. “It’s just business stuff. It’s not important.”

You snorted bitterly, “clearly.”

“Why can’t you just mind your fucking business?” He bit back, unable to control his tongue.

That was your final straw. “I’m leaving,” you said as you hurried out of the room.

“No, no, wait!” Rafe called after you, following you into the hall.

“If you don’t want to be honest with me, then I don’t want to be here,” you don’t turn around, even though he’s right on your heel.

He stepped in front of you, his long legs besting yours. You step back instinctually and he cursed himself silently for losing your trust.

“Don’t go,” he begged, grabbing your hand. “Don’t go back to them. Stay here, be with me, we can finally have the life we wanted. I have the money now, I have everything. I can be the man you need. We can do this, finally.”

“I can’t be with someone I don’t really know,” you shook your head.

“What are you talking about? It’s me,” he actually smiled, as though he could charm his way out of the massive hole he’s dug. You snatched your hand away.

“That means nothing to me now,” you snarled, side-stepping him and fleeing quickly down the stairs.

He watched you go, feeling like his heart was being dragged with you, an emptiness left in his chest. He watched the hem of your dress as it flew behind you, and you disappeared like you had so many painful times before.

Three Years Earlier…

“This color was made for you!” Sarah chirped happily as she applied one of her MAC lipsticks to your lips.

You fought back your smile so you could keep your lips steady for her to finish applying the makeup.

“Okay,” she said as she passed you her hand held mirror so you could inspect the full face of makeup she’d spent the last hour applying for you. “All done!”

You smiled at your reflection, you had never been particularly skilled at makeup, preferring a natural look. It helped that you had a boyfriend who constantly told you how gorgeous you were without it. “Don’t need all that shit on your face, baby, you’re already perfect,” he’d say.

But you wanted tonight to be different, you wanted his jaw to drop to the floor when he saw you. Plus his eyes wouldn’t be the only ones on you tonight, this being the first time you’d be attending Midsummers together as an official couple. Everyone on the island knew you’d been together since forever but, as Rafe had pointed out when he’d asked you to go with him a few weeks ago, you had never made a formal debut.

“Need everyone on this damn island to know you’re my girl,” he had whispered in your ear as he held you in the bed of his new truck while you stargazed by the beach.

“I think it’s pretty clear,” you giggled. “We already spend every waking second together.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he explained. “I wanna see their dumbstruck faces when they see the most beautiful girl in the OBX walking in with me.”

You nuzzled into him lovingly, “you’re too nice to me.” You kissed the tip of his nose.

“Impossible,” he shook his head, making you laugh as his nose rubbed against yours playfully. “You deserve all the niceness. You deserve all the good things, ‘n when we’re older, I’m gonna give you everything.”

“I don’t want everything,” you said, making his brow furrow slightly. “I just want you. You’re all I ever wanted.”

He knew he’d never hear more perfect words in his life, and he’d spend forever keeping them true.

Three weeks later, you were getting ready for Midsummers with Sarah, while Wheezie watched you wistfully from the corner. You sat on a tufted pedestal in the middle of Sarah’s walk-in closet as she added a few more bobby pins to secure the up-do she had crafted for you.

Wheezie wasn’t old enough for Midsummers yet and would be left home with a babysitter, an arrangement she made very clear she didn’t agree with.

“You’re so pretty,” she pouted. “Are you gonna marry my brother?”

You went red, completely caught off guard by her intrusive question.

“Oh! Well, I, uh,” you tried to think of an appropriate answer that a ten year-old would understand.

“Wheezie!” Sarah scolded her, saving you from having to respond. “You can’t just ask somebody that.”

You smiled up at her gratefully as she shielded your eyes from the hairspray she was adding to the front of your head.

“But of course she is, they’re like made for each other,” she continued.

Though you were slightly caught off guard by her abruptness, your cheeks hurt from the smile you failed to stifle. You loved the idea that it was so obvious to everyone else, it made you feel like your certainty that you’d already found the love of your life at seventeen wasn’t so crazy after all. Your mother would call you naive, but here in this house with the family that already felt like yours, you had never felt so sure that he was your forever.

“You’re all done!” Sarah beamed at you as she stepped away so you could stand and look at yourself in the full length mirror.

You tried to hide your blush, not wanting to seem conceited, but you felt absolutely beautiful. You wore a white dress, the snug bodice hugging your torso while the flowy skirt swooshed dreamily with every step you took. You had borrowed everything from Sarah, your mom refusing to take you shopping for an event she fundamentally protested, both for the flashy kook-iness of it all and the fact that you’d be going as a pseudo-Cameron - her worst nightmare.

“You did such a good job!” You told Sarah, leaning closer to the mirror. “Thank you so much!”

“Anything for my future sister-in-law,” she nudged you with her elbow. “Oh, wait! One more thing!”

She padded into her room and returned quickly, holding a stunning, sparkly diamond necklace.

“Oh, Sarah,” you said, eyes widening at the blinding jewels. “It’s too much.”

“It was my mom’s,” Sarah explained. “And it doesn’t go with my dress. But she’d want it to be worn for sure.”

You teared up a bit as she fastened it around your neck, the sunlight pouring through the tall windows causing the diamonds to glimmer against your skin. You blinked fast trying not to ruin your makeup, or let the girls know how emotional you were getting, but Sarah caught your eye in the mirror and gave you a knowing smirk.

Before you could thank her again, the wind was knocked out of you by Wheezie, who threw her arms around your waist and hugged you tight from behind.

“Please marry my brother,” she said with her face squished against your back, causing her words to come out in a funny whine. “He’s so much nicer when you’re around.”

You laughed and turned around to hug her back. “Aww, Wheeze! Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.”

She looked up at you with a pout, “I wish I could go to Midsummers, and be as pretty as you.”

“Oh, but you are!” You assured her. You grabbed the lipstick Sarah had used on you from the vanity and dabbed some onto her lips. “There,” you smiled down at her. “Now we match!”

She beamed at you and skipped over to the mirror, smiling wildly at her reflection. Sarah rolled her eyes amusedly at her.

“Time to go,” she reminded you, handing you a pair of heels she had picked out for you.

Rafe checked his watch anxiously as he paced back and forth at the bottom of the stairs. He wasn’t sure why, but tonight just felt like a big night. His dad and Rose knew you well, you had been around the mansion everyday since you were kids, but they never fully accepted how serious Rafe was about you. Whenever he’d bring you up in conversation, they’d give each other a knowing smirk that made him feel like he was five and they were discussing whether it was time for him to go to B-E-D.

The truth was, while he said tonight was about showing the island how serious he was about you, it was really about showing Ward. Maybe if his dad could see how mature he was around you, he’d finally acknowledge that you’re good for him and give his wholehearted blessing.

But proving that the two of you were mature was going to be hard to do if you showed up late. Ward and Rose were already at the club, they were the co-chairs of this year’s event, which put even more pressure on the evening.

Just as Rafe was about to yell to hurry you and Sarah along, you appeared at the top of the steps.

It was like he’d been punched in the gut, the way the air left his body. Everything stilled as he watched you descend the steps, floating to him like an angel in white. When you made it to the second to last step, you were finally at his eyeline, you gazed at him with a twinkle in your eye.

“Hey mister,” you said sweetly, wrapping your arms around his neck as his hands found your waist, thumbs circling your skin through the soft fabric of your dress.

“How are you real?” He mumbled, eyes wide with infatuation.

“You’re too nice to me,” you giggle.

As your chest rose with your laughter, his eyes caught the necklace Sarah had given you. Your smile faded, taking in the way his lips curved down slightly as he realized where the necklace came from. Maybe wearing his mother’s necklace was a step too far, maybe he’d feel like it was a violation somehow. He didn’t like to talk about his mom, the memory too painful, and here you were wearing a big, shimmering reminder of her on what was supposed to be a special night.

“I can take it off,” you offered, removing your hands from him to reach back and unclasp it.

He stopped you, gently grabbing your arm and bringing it down to your side.

“No,” he said softly, eyes beginning to water. “It’s perfect. She would’ve loved you.”

You reach your other hand up to his cheek, gently thumbing away the teardrop that had slipped through.

“I love you,” you whispered soothingly.

“I love you, too,” he said before placing a peck to your lips. “Even though you’re making us late.”

With his teasing remark, he lifted you by your waist and spun you around, whisking you off the stairs. You yelped in surprise and smacked his arm playfully when he set you down. You stumbled slightly on your heels, being swept off your feet throwing your balance off.

“Woah there, baby,” Rafe laughed, grabbing your hips to steady you. “What were you three doing up there, pre-gaming?”

“No, just wedding planning,” Sarah said from the top of the stairs as she and Wheezie descended.

You and Rafe both jumped slightly, too lost in your intimate moment to have noticed their arrival.

“Wedding planning, huh?” Rafe smiled at you.

“Yeah, I’m gonna be the flower girl!” Wheezie informed the room, making your eyebrows shoot up as you chuckled at her excitement for your fictional wedding.

“Nah, Wheeze,” Rafe said, grabbing your hand and his truck keys off the hook by the door. “If you’re the flower girl then who will be my best man?”

“You promise?” She asked hopefully.

“‘Course, I need my best bud up there with me,” He told her, winking at you as you looked up at him with a loving look that made his heart soar.

The evening hadn’t even technically begun yet and you already felt like you gained a husband and two little sisters. Your future was a bright, glowing light on the horizon. Rafe had told you someday he would give you everything, but he didn’t understand - he already had.

Now…

It was too late to make it to the actual rehearsal, but you had plenty of time to swing by the dinner. You pulled up outside the nice restaurant on the water that Chip had rented out, surely burning through his life savings to do so, not that your mother would care.

You followed the sound of classical music and echoing voices around the back of the restaurant to the patio overlooking the ocean, black tie party in full swing. The crowd chattered with small talk as you searched the sea of people for your mother. You saw her standing by the champagne table, talking with some of the ladies she played tennis with. You steeled yourself with a deep breath and approached the group.

“...they had to sell their house in Cabo-” the ladies’ gossip was cut off as all of their heads turned to you, eyes wide in surprise at your arrival.

“Don’t let me interrupt, ladies, just wanted to let my mother know I’m here,” you smiled at them, trying to recall the way you used to charm all the adults at these kinds of events.

Your mother smiled tightly, trying to play off her surprise, but you could read her better than anyone and you knew she was not happy to see you.

“Excuse me, everyone,” your mother set her champagne flute down and wrapped her hand around your arm. “Just need to catch up with my beautiful daughter real quick.”

“Oh, I don’t think that’s necessar-” your mother cut you off, squeezing your arm hard as she pulled you away. “Okay, okay, geez.”

Once she had led you away from the crowd, around the corner of the restaurant, out of view but not totally out of earshot, she whispered, “where the hell have you been?”

“What are you talking about?” You weren’t whispering, and her eyes shot past you to make sure no one could hear. “You kicked me out, remember?”

“I didn’t- keep your voice down first of all,” she said, making you roll your eyes, “and I did not kick you out, you ran away.”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself, mom.” You really had come here to try to make things right with her, but you couldn’t help the rise she got out of you, her tone so condescending.

“Were you with him?” She asked.

“No,” you didn’t even think about the lie, it was just your instinct. You’d been lying to your mother about Rafe your whole life.

“Oh really?” Your mother raised her eyebrows. “Then why did I get a call from the credit card company asking if I authorized a bail payment at the Kildare County Sheriff's Office? And why did I hear from three of my friends that they saw you running out of the Cameron’s driveway this morning crying?”

“These kooks really need to get some hobbies,” you huffed.

“Don’t change the subject!” She snapped, trying and failing to keep her voice to a whisper.

“Well if you already knew the answer then why are you interrogating me?” You snapped back.

“You know what? Everyone has already seen you and I don’t want to have to answer more embarrassing questions about you, so you can stay for dinner, but then I’m done. I don’t want any more drama surrounding my wedding. When we’re done with toasts, you can go back to him and we’ll just stop trying to force the happy family act.”

You sighed heavily, “I can’t.”

“You can’t sit politely through one dinner?”

“No, I can't… go back to him. He’s, uh, that’s over.” You saw what could almost be mistaken for concern flash through your mother’s eyes, but she quickly regained her impassive composure.

“Well, that’s not my problem. You wanted to be an adult? You got it. You’re on your own,” she squared her shoulders, stepping back from you and returning to the party.

You just rolled your eyes, your mother always made empty threats. You knew if you did what she wanted and smiled your way through the party, not drawing too much attention to yourself, she’d forgive you by the end of the night and soon you’d be sleeping in your own bed again.

So you returned to the party, the picture of a dutiful daughter. You made small talk, carefully weaving a web of little white lies to cover up what you’d really been up to for the past two years. You listened to the toasts from your mother’s friends, faking a pretty, charming laugh as they made terrible jokes. Finally, Chip stood, tinking his fork against his champagne glass and clearing his throat. You turned to watch his speech.

Chip began with the story of how he met your mom, and she beamed at him as he spoke. Even though you were angry with her, it made you happy to see her so in love. Chip was so…uncomplicated. You ached for the days when your love felt so simple and clear.

“...what I love most about my soon-to-be-wife is…” Chip’s words faded. “I love that she, uh-” You followed Chips’s distracted stare to the back of the patio, where you found Rafe leaning against the brick wall of the restaurant. He had put on a suit, looking like he was just another party guest. The blood drained from your face at the sight of him, afraid of what he might do.

Your mom had spotted him, too. She shot you a fiery, warning glare. You mouthed, “I don’t know why he’s here,” but she didn’t understand what you were trying to say.

Chip decided to continue with his speech. “...she’s so selfless, she always puts others before herself.”

A loud scoff came from the back of the crowd, several people turning their heads to see who was protesting, shocked when they saw Rafe Cameron was here. Your mother’s face went red with anger.

Desperate to defuse the situation, Chip just continued, eyes darting helplessly between you and your mother, who’s stare was fixed on Rafe.

“...she’s also kind and generous.”

“Bullshit,” Rafe spat.

Tick, tick, tick…boom. Fourteen years of tension exploded all at once.

“Excuse me?” Your mother rose from her chair abruptly, and pushed her way through the crowd as she approached Rafe, who started stalking towards her as well, the two meeting in the middle of the crowd, staring daggers. You and Chip both rushed over to them.

“I said it’s fuckin’ bullshit, calling you generous when you can’t even take care of your own kid!” Rafe yelled in her face.

“What the hell would you know? You’re just an irresponsible waste of a trust fund!” She shouted back.

“And you’re a selfish bitch!” He bellowed.

You finally reached them, placing your hands on Rafe’s chest so he’d have to back away.

Your mother watched with poison in her stare, ruefully glaring at the sight of your hand on his chest.

“Ward was right,” she said quietly.

Both you and Rafe snapped your heads towards her at the shocking sound of Ward’s name coming from her lips.

“What did you just say?” Your hands left Rafe as you started walking towards her, Chip moving to stand between you and your mom.

“Hon, I think you and your boyfriend should just go,” he put his hand on your shoulder, but you shook it off and side-stepped him to get closer to her.

“No. What does that mean, ‘Ward was right?’ Tell me, now,” you raised your voice more the closer you got to her, her face completely impassive, unflinching as you yelled at her.

“Leave,” she said.

“What did you do, mom?” You questioned, desperate for understanding.

“What I had to,” she said, shrugging her shoulders as if it was the simplest explanation in the world. “What you couldn’t.”

“What does Ward have to do with that? What did he do?” Your voice shook with tears. Rafe looked around the party, all eyes were on you as you teetered near the verge of full meltdown. He hated the way everyone was looking at you, entertained by the drama of it all. He knew everyone on the island would hear about your meltdown within hours. He had to get you out of here before things got worse.

He walked up behind you as you continued in on your mom.

“What kind of mother are you? To let me suffer like that for two years?” Rafe placed his hand gently around your elbow, saying your name, trying to calm you. It has the opposite effect.

“No, no!” You turned on him. “You’re just as bad as her! I’m not leaving here until someone tells me the fucking truth for once!” You ripped your arm from him, stumbling backward and into the champagne table. A dozen glasses crashed to the ground dramatically, shattering loudly. The crowd watching gasped.

You didn’t even care about the mess you’d created, you wanted to keep going until you got the answers you needed, so tired of being in the dark, of your life being decided for you. You opened your mouth to yell at them some more, but when you saw Rafe’s eyes flash around you to the rest of the party, you realized for the first time just how many people were watching and your voice died in your throat.

“Are you done making a scene?” Your mother snarked from behind you.

“Yeah,” you nodded ruefully. “I’m so done.”

Done with her, done with this family, done with this whole fucked up island.

You stepped over the broken glass and pushed through the party-goers, hearing them murmur about you as you exit. You took off into a run as you exited the patio onto the beach, disappearing into the night.

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“I’m sorry ma’am, it appears your card has been declined.”

The fluorescent light in the motel lobby flickered, casting a shadow across your face as you nodded ruefully.

“You’re on your own,” your mother had warned you.

She must’ve canceled your credit card, and now you were alone, being turned away from a motel in the middle of The Cut. No money, no family, no home.

When the front desk agent tried to hand you back the card, you shook your head, “no, it’s okay, you can toss it.”

You turned and exited the motel, wrapping your arms around yourself in the chilly air. You stood in the parking lot for a moment, at a complete loss for what to do next. You pictured yourself spending the night on a park bench. This was officially rock bottom.

You started walking, not sure where you were going to go, but you stopped short when you saw a familiar black truck parked across the street. Rafe leaned against the car with his arms crossed, illuminated by the dim streetlight.

He lifted his chin, staring you down. Your shoulders fell as you shared a knowing look. You both knew you had no choice but to get in the truck.

(to be continued)

a/n: feels like this story kind of found a second life this past week and I'm so grateful! We're nearing the end, I think there will be 9 or 10 chapters and an epilogue. This story is going to be on hiatus for a bit, due to other projects and because I'm feeling lost and want to find the right ending and give it my full attenton. Thank you for sticking around it means the world to me!!! 😘 We will be back.

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heartfullofleeches · 6 months ago

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If I had a cute pizza boy show up at my door, giving me free pizza with special 'sauce' for weeks on end I would either sneak a slip of paper with my number on it into the tip or try to invite him on a date, depending if I'm feeling confident or not -3-

I am a sucker for cute boys in a uniform what can I say?

Yan "Pizza Boy + Reader

If Brie had to pick something he disliked about visiting you - it would be taking your money.

"You really don't have to give me anything. Just doing what I love!"

One might call into question the fulfillment delivering pizza for a living may bring, but he wasn't lying. For the most part anyway. This job as fictitious as it was birthed the real feelings he had for you. If anyone should be paid it's you for putting up with his awkward attempts at small talk or when he nearly drops your food whenever your fingers touch. Taking your money felt like a bigger crime than everything he's done up to this point. He refuses to take it nine times out of ten-

Today you weren't giving him any chance to escape.

"I insist! You've been coming here for weeks, Brie. It's the least I can do for you."

No- Don't do that. How is he supposed to say no when you say his name like that? The day you ended up on a first name bases was the same day Brie's cheeks were sore for a full twenty-four hours for smiling so long.

"Take it. For me? You deserve it."

"Ha...." Brie sure of it now- You'll definitely be the death of him someday. "If it makes you happy. I can't thank you enough for your kindness."

"Hope I see you soon-"

The implications of your words are lost to Brie as he aimlessly drifts off back in the direction of his car, tripping over a crack in the pavement he's step over many times before. His spirits remain high as he corrects himself and hopes into the vehicle. He was good on cash and it'd be crazy to spend money you gave him. Brie digs his wallet out of the glove compartment- He'll keep the bills in a separate compartment away from the rest of his money for good luck-

"Huh?"

Something hits his foot. A small folded piece of paper nestled between the bills. A receipt you forgot maybe? His... His name is on it though. Next to a heart.

Brie snatches the paper off the floor.

"Buy something nice on the way home for me. Wish there was more I could do to repay you. How about dinner this Saturday?

Call me. XX"

Dinner? This Saturday? That almost sounds like...

"A date."

You. Him?? Brie reads the note aloud to make sure he read it correctly. He waves a hand in front of his eyes to check if they're working right. You, want to go out with him. On a date. He thought you were just being nice the last time you called him cute.

"Yes! Yes! Yes!"

The repeated hammering of his feet against the floor as he kicks his legs alerts dogs walking past his car with their owner. Brie waves bashfully as the dog walker from his side mirror. He brushes his hair out of his face, adjusting his posture as he places his hands on the wheel.

Brie drives over to the gas station nearest to him. He buys himself a bottle of iced tea with his tip money - assuring at least one dollar remains from his purchase to tape up in his car at a later date. He drinks from the bottle, taking smaller sips every other swallow to savior what was probably the best bottle of tea he'd ever had.

#Brie my oc #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere blurb #male yandere #yandere oc #yandere insert #yandere drabble

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weaselle · 1 month ago

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Let's talk chef knives

somebody in the comments on a cooking post is talking to me about knives and i figure, why not make a whole post about it

I worked in restaurants for two decades, and that means i was mostly too poor to buy expensive knives.. but i did learn EXACTLY what i was looking for in a knife, and eventually i did spend about $150 on one.

Now, you can easily spend $500 or more on a chef knife if you are the kind of person who cares about having the chef knife equivilent of a porche or lamborghini and i don't think many of you are looking for that, so I'm going to tell you what i looked for in my really-good-but-not-too-expensive chef knife

First of all, you don't need that block set of knives you see in like every kitchen ever. You know, this thing

You don't need that. Listen, theoretically each of those knives has a specific thing it is used for, but in all the restaurants i worked at, 99.9% of the stuff i did was done with one of these

We didn't go looking for a specific kind of knife, we just used one of these -- often a bunch of those were all that was provided. I uh, i didn't work at a lot of high end restaurants. But even in the nicer ones, most of what we used was a chef's knife.

So. In my opinion, instead of spending $100-$200 on a bunch of kind of shitty knives, spend the same money on one really nice chef knife, and a wetstone or some other sharpener you feel you can use. But really, like, just look at a wetstone tutorial on youtube, it's not hard, and it will make your life better.

NOW let me tell you what i looked for in my knife

This is the knife i use. It's a six inch Zwilling Pro

if you shop around, you can probably find it for close to 100 bucks. It's not Fancy™, it's just Quite Good. You can, if you want, find a chef knife for a couple grand, and that plastic-handled one in the first pic will run you less than ten dollars, so, this is a pretty good price point, on the low side of middle, with a knife quality on the high side of middle. If you take care of this knife, it could last you your whole life

Now let's talk about specific features I was looking for. First, inb4, metal quality. Zwilling is a good company, so the quality of their actual metal is pretty decent, and that's all you really need to know -- if you're getting your knife from a known decent knife company it's probably good enough quality. In this case Zwilling uses forged high-carbon German steel, which are some good key words to look for. That's all i have to say about that.

Now there are four specific things i was looking for that led me to choose this specific knife

Depth. This refers to how far the heel of the blade juts out from the handle (the heel of the blade is the part of the blade closest to your hand). When you have the blade resting with the edge flush against the cutting board, you want there to be plenty of room for the hand gripping the handle without knocking your knuckles against the board. A classic pinch grip doesn't need much room, but that's not the only grip you'll ever use, so give yourself some decent knuckle clearance. But not TOO much. Too much and your blade will kind of feel like it wants to flop over on its side when the edge hits the board.

Length. As an edgy 20 year old in restaurant kitchens, i always went for the biggest knife i could find, but because you're going to be using your chef's knife for everything, you actually want it short enough to use as a paring knife or whatever. The shorter the blade, the more control over the tip you have. Me, i never really need anything longer than six inches. I was a little bit worried when i first got it, but i've never wound up wishing it was longer.

Weight. Even though it's just about as short as a chef's knife can be, my knife has a good amount of weight to it. A somewhat heavy blade helps with chopping, and provides a good balance for other knife skills. When you are chopping and slicing, a decent amount of weight helps a lot. It doesn't have to be heavy heavy, but when you pick it up, it should definitely feel like a chunk of steel, not like a pressed aluminum toy. Plus, some of the weight will come from thickness, and a thicker blade will stand up to more sharpening and last you longer too.

Bolster Shape

If you look at the Zwilling Pro's bolster, it has a bolster that is sort of beveled into the heel of the blade with a nice curve. Right right, what's a bolster, hold on, here's the anatomy of a knife

on this knife, you can see that where the bolster meets the blade it makes basically a right angle where it goes from thick to thin. This is distressingly common in chef knives

now look at the bolster on the Zwilling Pro

and here's a similar bolster shape from a different angle

First of all, the bolster is diagonal, which is the right shape for me to hold in a classic grip. Every chef has their own grip, but it's always a variation on pinching the blade just above the bolster, and a diagonal bevel works better for my grip.

And just as important to me, it might be hard to tell, but the metal curves from the thickness of the handle to the thinness of the blade instead of using a right angled edge to go from thick to thin. This curve sort of follows the movement your knife makes against the knuckle you use to guide the blade when you do this

I tend to use the deepest part of the heel a lot, and, depending on what i'm doing with the knife, my grip can often be nearly off the blade it's so far back, so i have a tendency to knock a straight bolster directly against my index knuckle. Just a little, but after a few dozen times in half a minute it starts to irritate my finger. A curved bolster like on the Zwilling Pro sort of glides to a stop against my guiding knuckle instead of banging into it, provides a comfortable pinch, and makes my life in the kitchen better.

That might not be true for everyone, it's just important to pay attention to how you use a knife, especially if you find yourself thinking something like "it would be better for me if this part of the knife was different in this way" or "this knife would be easier to grip if it was shaped like this instead" or "i wish the shape of this knife didn't mean this was always happening" or whatever. Could even be how your knife fits in your dishwasher, just pay attention to what works and doesn't work for you personally so you know What you're looking for. But you for sure want to look at the Depth, Weight, Length, and Shape.

So. There you have it. Some things to pay attention to when selecting a knife that may allow you to get a good knife for yourself without spending tooooo much money.

#my life #cooking #knife #knives #chef knife #chef's knife #kitchen

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oval3000 · 1 year ago

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Chapter 4

Yandere Psych Patient König x Nurse reader

Warning: Possesive, Obsession, Death, Gore, Blood, Smut, Toxic behavior, age gap. Assault.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

-------------------------------------------------------

"I don't like this," Jacob rubbed his for head, giving a few scratches. His hand on his hip with a slump posture. His eyes were giving out with annoyance and tiredness, not from the labor work, but from the system.

The fellow nurse could give an eye roll after seeing what was happening. "Anything to save some money, right?"

Mr. Miller ordered that half of the guards on the fifth floor would go to other floors to cover other shifts of guards that quit and who were..laid off. Those 20,000 thousand dollars couldn't come out from thin air as to what Mr. Miller thought it would, so it was the only option, to send some guards home.

Meaning that other guards from other floors had to move around and, unfortunately, your floor was affected by this.

The two guards that were on König, left as well as four others.

Things have now changed, your safety may now be a risk. But to to be quite honest with you, your safety is nothing to be worried about.

You did your morning rounds, assisted where there is needed. During their lunch, you heard the main phone ring from the floor. Jacob picked it up, "this is Jacob. Yes, sir. Okay...yeah...no problem." He hung up the phone taking a deep breath. He walked behind you and tapped on your shoulder. You turned your head away from the computer, "Mr. Miller wants to see you in his office."

You felt a big tull on your stomach. You were nervous. He never called you in his office before and with everything that is going on, you could only imagine worse.

Is he going to fire you?

You can't loose this job, the pay is good. You can't pack and move again to find something better.

You headed down to his office in a bit of a hurry, you didn't want to miss their lunch round check ups. You knocked on the brown wooden door with his name ingraved on a gold platter.

"Come in." You entered into his office and saw him sitting as his usual chair, writing whatever he is writing on a piece of paper. He stood up, fixing his suit. Mr. Miller, about the age of 50. Still has a grown set of hair only it's shown to have some grey strand hairs peaking through. 6 feet 3 inches maybe. Looks a bit fit, lackes muscles though. His light beard with a few grey strands of hair that follows the shape of his long jawline.

You saw photos that are in his office. Paintings of mountains and oceans. You saw his degree in psychology and business on a sharp, dark, brown, frame hanged up on the cream wall.

"Is there something wrong, sir?" You questioned standing behind the two chairs aligned perfectly in front of his desk. You hoped that he doesn't fire you. You can't hit rock bottom. Not now after everything.

"No, I just wanted to check up on you. I also wanted to apologize for the way I reacted towards you during the Gabriel incident. It was really unprofessional of me to do so. You were just doing your job, I'm sorry." He creeped in closer to you. You felt uncomfortable, a bad vibe coming off from him. He placed his hand on your shoulder, gripping it lightly. "If you need anything, my office is always open for you."

You swallowed the little bit of saliva, taking a step away from him, but it only brought him closer to you.

You panicked. You looked around to see if anyone, anyone at all can see, but nothing. The door is shut, the window blinds are closed. "It's okay sir, I should get going."

You turned around to walk away, but you felt his hands on your arm, pulling away in. "You look adorable playing hard to get"

Your eyes widen. You felt absolute frozen. "Sir. Let go of me!" He dragged you in front of his desk. The movement was so sudden, you couldn't say anything. "Please sir."

He gripped your shoulders tight that you couldn't move. You felt his body pressed against you. You felt his hips pushing in deeper. You couldn't help, but to let tears fall from your eyes. You felt so frozen that you hated yourself. This couldn't be happening to you.

You honestly wished he called you in to fire you. His body completely compressed to yours making you bend over on his desk. His hands roamed your body. His cold hands went inside your scrub shirt. You shook at his touch with fear. "No!Please! Stop!"

"You feel so good " he cupped your breast, pulling under your bra to get a better touch. Eventually his one hand left one of your breast and it landed on your ass. You heard the sound of his belt unbuckling and his zipper being pulled down. He gripped onto your scrub pants and pulled them down, including your underwear, showing your naked vagina. "Fuck. I should've fucked you along time ago."

"Please! Please! Stop! Let go of me!" You cried out, feeling his finger pressed on your area.

A beeping sound came from his phone, "Sir, you have a call coming in. It's from the CEO."

"You gotta be fucking kidding me." He finally let go. He yanked your body closer to him. He cupped your face with his hand. You felt his disgusting breath near your mouth. "If you tell anyone about this. I'll ruin your fucking life. You got that."

You nodded as he aggressively let go, making you fall a bit on his desk. You felt so humiliated while pulling up your scrub pants and fixing your bra. You were about to walk out when he said, "Oh and make sure no one sees you like that. Get yourself fixed."

You didn't bother turning to him. You walked about quickly and ignoring the staff by not making eye contact. You pressed the button for the elevator, which felt like an eternity to arrive. Never felt like hours waiting for the elevator. Thankfully, no one was there, it was just you. You pressed on the fifth floor button.

You wanted to vomit. You scrunched your face as the tears fell down your cheeks. You covered your mouth trying hard to cover your sobs. Even though you are alone in the elevator, you felt embarrassed. You took deep breaths as it was reaching near the floor. You wiped away as much tears as you can. Even so you know your eyes and nose are red and puffy.

You avoided eye contact with everyone. You prayed that no one will come up to you ask why Mr. Miller called you down to his office. You grabbed the medical cart with the things you need and quickly went to each patients room, the last one being Königs.

You jiggle the kids, the guards left for you, to open his door. You swang the door a bit open and back inside his room. You grabbed the tray with his medication and placed it down on top of the cart. König watched you. He knew something was wrong.

You raised your head up, feeling the tears forming again. You hated yourself for not stopping the tears from coming out. Not now. Not when you are doing your job.

But you couldn't help it. You covered your face as tears were running down your face. You didn't want to cry in front of a patient, nevertheless, König.

He quickly got up and took your arm to pull you closer to him. He sat back down on his bed with his legs spread a bit to let you in closer to him. He couldn't see your face, which was still buried in your hands. If you could see his eyes, the look he's giving you. The same look he gave to the people he wanted to kill, to his enemies in the battle field. "What happened, schatz?" his thick accent was hard and impactful. You uncovered your face to see him, for him to see you. He saw the tears, the redness in your eyes.

The sympathetic look he gave you made those tears flowing again. Being comfort is not something you're use to. Your always dealing with everything by yourself.

He palmed your cheek, wiping your tears away. You shook your head lightly. You can't tell him. He's your patient. You can't tell your patient is a psychiatric hospital that you were almost raped by your boss. "Bitte tell me."

"H-he....touched me." You stared away, but his other palm touched your cheek, making you to look at him.

You saw the stare he gave you. Filled with sympathy and anger. "He. Touched. You."

You nodded. "He trapped me in his office. He was going to rape me. If he didn't get that phone call, he would've-." Your words turned into sobs.

He got up and pulled you into a tight hug. Your head was buried into his chest, letting out your quiet sobs.

He held you tight and close. His hand rubbing your back while the other was petting your head. "Shhh..it's okay, schatz. It's okay."

He turned his head towards the slight, opened, door. His way to freedom. Your freedom.

Away from this. From every assholes that's here. Away from everyone else.

"Mein liebling. Mach dir keine Sorgen. Ich werde ihn töten. Ich werde jeden töten, der dir wehtut. (My darling. don't worry. ill kill him. I'll kill anyone that hurts you.) " he gripped you tight. He doesn't want to let you go. He wants you to be attached to him. For you to share everything of his. "Mine," he whispered. "All mine."

#cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod x reader #fanfic #yandere #yandere konig #yandere könig #könig mw2 #konig x reader #konig #könig x reader #könig cod #könig call of duty #könig #könig x y/n

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skzdarlings · 2 years ago

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the heist team | the threesome series ; skz ; minho/reader/changbin

masterlist.

threesome series part 2/4.

pairing: lee minho/reader/seo changbin content info: sexual content. threesome. friends2lovers. very cheesy criminal heist shenanigans (very "we're in" style hacking and some laser grids lol). "fake" kissing, getting sexy as a distraction, giving sex directions, sexual tension that gets resolved. pussy eating, dick sucking, coming inside. purple haired minho bc meow <3

The camper van was the best idea you ever had. It is much easier to enact dastardly schemes while inconspicuously hiding in plain sight.

On the outside, the van looks like any civilian camper, but the inside is a veritable den of high-tech con-artistry. It has a place for Minho to hang the get-ups for his grifting gambits, a compartment for Changbin to store his weapons and down-time dumbbells, and it has the sexiest, sleekest, most mouth-watering computer apparatus that has ever existed. You love it more than anything in this world.

Every job, you sit in the midst of your beloved computer screens, directing the operation while your boys do the ground work. Despite knowing of your undying love for this system, your best friends and partners-in-crime are presently trying to separate you from your baby.

“Is she calling the computer her baby again?” Minho asks from where he is getting dressed behind a curtain.

“Yes,” Changbin says. He is sitting in your computer chair with his arms distractingly crossed, his biceps bulging in his tight black shirt. He is wearing a lot of lycra, having formerly anticipated he would be doing physical work tonight.

That all changed when you realized the nature of tonight’s job.

You only ever target the obscenely rich, the kind of wealth that is obtained through its own nature of theft and villainy. Tonight’s targets are a bunch of pompous elites celebrating themselves. Upstairs is a gala kicking off a week-long set of dinners, auctions, and celebrations. Downstairs is millions of dollars worth of art and antiquities, set to go up for auction the following day.

It looked like a typical job, the kind where Minho could sweet-talk some fools while Changbin punched some security guards and you hacked the vault from the van. The security system around the haul turned out to be far more advanced. Operating with a form of artificial intelligence, it essentially learns as it goes, meaning hacking it from the outside is incredibly difficult as it will understand and respond to invasion. It will be easier to outsmart from the inside, where you can reach your hand into its virtual heart and pluck its digital ventricles one by one.

The boys do not have that kind of computer knowledge. So now Changbin is in your chair, Minho is doing his make-up, and you are waving around an emergency cocktail dress.

“Who’s gonna watch my baby if I’m in there!”

“Yah! Rude woman! You remember who helped you build this thing?” Changbin pats one of the computer towers to make his point. “I can do the basic work in here, but I can’t do your complicated nerd things.”

“I’m not a nerd!” You definitely are. You stare at the cocktail dress morosely. “You’re forgetting something super important. That I am a total weirdo and I panic whenever someone looks at me! There’s a reason I don’t do the people side of things! That’s what you guys are good at!”

“Technically I just hit them,” Changbin says.

“You are plenty charming when you want to be and you know it,” you say.

Changbin folds his hands behind his head, flexing all his muscles while grinning.

“How charming?” he teases, cocky. “Describe it to me.”

“Shut up.” You hit him with the cocktail dress to hide the fact he got you genuinely flustered. “I can’t go in there. People will know I don’t belong the second I walk in the room. We won’t even get close enough to the computer bank for me to disarm it because they’ll get one look at me and throw me out the window.”

“That won’t happen,” Minho says. His changing area is behind you and you hear the metallic slide of the curtain opening. “Because you won’t be going in there alone.”

You don’t even have to turn around to know Minho looks devastatingly gorgeous; it is written all over Changbin’s shocked face. His arms lower from behind his head and his cocksure expression shifts, his lips parting as he stares past you.

Despite having the benefit of bracing yourself, you are still struck dumb when you turn and look at Minho. It was always in the plan that Minho would serve as a distraction at the gala. To stand out accordingly, he dyed his hair with temporary dye this morning. The vibrant purple was more amusing than sexy when his hair was messy, but now it is neatly styled back, slick and off his handsome face. He is dressed all in white, his asymmetrical suit partially slit at the side to show some skin. There is an extra sparkle from his jewelry, plus the lightest dab of glitter in the sharper contours of his face. He is practically glowing.

He knows he looks good. His mouth quirks in a little smirk at your expressions. You and Changbin are both gawping at him, and it goes on long enough that his eyebrows lift and his smirk puckers with a surprised laugh.

“What? Really?” he asks, still laughing at you.

Changbin does an unexpected sign of the cross. You hit him with the cocktail dress again.

“Fine,” you say, mostly to have an excuse to duck behind the curtain because you think you might explode from lust and embarrassment and anxiety all at once. “At least no one will be looking at me.”

You step behind the curtain and snap it closed, leaving the boys to their banter.

You like dressing up so this part is no problem. The problem with parties is other people. You wholeheartedly admit you are better with zeroes and ones than human beings.

You try to focus on the fun elements of tonight: the dress, the glamour, and beating a high-tech security system at its own game. It will be so fun to have a real challenge for once. You know you can beat it but it will definitely push you more than your usual digital adversaries.

Also, you get to look at Minho looking like that. Your view of the boys is usually through security cameras, nestled in your van surrounded by your operating system, so the proximity will be a treat.

You open the curtain, scowling. You do not enjoy socializing so you seldom have occasion to dress up, so you anticipate the boys will lovingly berate you. But when you step forward, Changbin looks at you with the same dumbfounded expression he had for Minho. Minho is sitting on the bench, knees apart and arm slung across the backrest. His expression gets very serious when he looks at you. He shimmies his hips, his knees parting further.

“Turn around,” he says.

The van feels so tense and quiet that you obey, more confused than anything else.

Changbin’s gaze drops to your ass immediately, his jaw visibly clenching. Minho tips his head like he is studying something.

“Thank you,” Minho says.

You face them again, hot in the face. You cross your arms angrily.

“What was the point of that?” you demand.

Minho lifts a single eyebrow. “I wanted to see your ass,” he says, like it should be obvious. “It’s a good one. You should be proud.”

You throw your sweatpants at his stupid smirk. He catches it smoothly.

“Can we just go already?” You punctuate this with a stomp of your foot then storm out of your precious van.

It is very strange being on this side of the operation. You always have Minho and Changbin nattering in your earpiece, but usually you are sitting at your desk wearing proper headphones. It is strange wandering around with a tiny bud in your ear, listening to Changbin report from your usual seat.

You already have control of the hotel security cameras as they work on a separate operating system to the storeroom AI. You replaced the live feed with a looping reel of empty rooms so the security team inside will not see you moving around. It also gives Changbin a bird’s eye view of the gala and the rest of the hotel. You feel anxious at not seeing it for yourself, but you are placated when Changbin whistles and teases, “You two are the best looking there. You would be second best looking if I was there, so you’re lucky I’m not.”

You and Minho both smile, your expressions fond.

Minho gets you in the door with little more than a wink at the doorman. You stay quiet, hiding your nerves as best you can. Minho is a competent con-man and Changbin is plenty reliable so you try to focus on your own tasks. First you need to get to the ground floor network base so you can get the AI to chase your red herring. Once you are in, the AI will start responding, but with your virus acting as a decoy source within the building, you should be able to buy yourselves time to move onto the next phase of breaking down the system.

“There’s a lot of muscle at this party,” Changbin says seriously, no doubt taking stock of all the burly security guards. It is only natural Changbin would be as twitchy as you, also out of his element for the night. “I don’t like not being there with you,” he says.

“Easy,” Minho says in a calm voice. You think it is directed at both you and Changbin. He puts a hand on your lower back and gives you a knowing look. “You’re doing fine,” he says.

You feel like terror is written all over your face. It doesn’t help that Minho draws eyes the second you step into the hotel ballroom, men and women looking at him with the usual desire he draws. They are equally curious to look at you, their eyes on where his hand rests intimately low on your spine.

“I’m gonna hurl,” you say.

“Not a bad idea,” he says. He smiles with so much effortless charm that no one would suspect he is whispering criminal tips. “The best con,” he says, his lips brushing your ear, “is one that is close to the truth.” You shiver as his fingertips brush up your spine. He rests his hand on your nape. “Look sick,” he says. “We’ll say we’re looking for a restroom if someone asks.”

You follow his lead, weaving your way through the party. Looking sick is the easiest instruction to follow because you feel genuinely ill, your anxiety a toxic twist in your gut.

Only when you are wandering the empty hotel corridor do you feel at ease. You feel even more at ease when you find the ground floor network hub. Your first obstacle is a regular alarm code, twelve digits in length. It is obviously too long to guess so you physically unscrew the alarm box and start some manual fiddling. There is no way to fully disarm it without also setting it off, but that’s where your own AI gadget comes into play. You plug in your cypher scrambler and let it do its thing. It flickers through numbers, seeking the correct pattern, learning from its errors. You designed it yourself and though it is always accurate, it takes a while to pull the numbers. You and Minho are forced to hover in the hallway while it gradually reveals each piece of the code.

You are up to number seven out of twelve when Changbin inhales sharply.

“There’s a waiter walking in your direction,” he says. “It looks like he’s taking a shortcut to somewhere else, but you have less than two minutes until he’s on you.”

“What!” You start to panic immediately. “My decipher machine could take longer than that, what do we—”

“Relax, relax!” Changbin says at the same time Minho steps behind you and grasps your shoulders. He makes little shushing noises while massaging you, not that it does much to help.

“We’re good,” Minho says. “It’s just a waiter, not security.”

“I’m gonna get us killed,” you say.

“By a waiter?” Minho asks. He gives your shoulders another squeeze. “Is he going to beat us with a baguette? Hey, hey, relax.”

You are a vibrating bundle of nerves. Minho is not usually the type to dive into a hug but he turns you around and pulls you into his arms. You wrap your arms around his middle and hug him back, hiding your face in his neck.

“Yeah, that will work,” Changbin says.

“Huh?” you say, lifting your head.

Minho is staring into a security camera as if having a mute exchange with Changbin. He nods in agreement, though you still don’t understand.

“What will work?” you ask.

“Distraction,” Minho says. You just look at him with confusion.

“Baby,” Changbin says in a soft tone, “listen to my voice.”

The sudden gentleness of his voice makes you shiver. Your fingers are shaking when Minho takes your hand and rests it over his heart. You look up into his dark eyes as he smiles at you with familiar fondness. You open your mouth to speak but he shakes his head, shushing you gently. His eyes drift to the side in anticipation of an intruder.

“Baby,” Changbin says, his honeyed tone softening your nerves, “Minho is going to kiss you. Just do what I say, okay?”

Your heart skips a beat, your eyes widening.

“You trust us?” Changbin asks.

You nod, answering Changbin, gazing at Minho.

It’s the truth. You might be scared but you have been scared before and your boys always come through. Even when the rest of the world left you behind, when you turned to crime to keep yourself alive, Minho and Changbin were there. They have never let you down. You trust them with anything and everything.

Minho slips his hand around your waist, pulling you close to him. You have been close before, sharing the van, sharing hotel rooms, but this feels different. He looks at you with intent, his handsome face so close, a strand of dark purple hair curled over his forehead. Your hand finds that patch of bare skin when you touch his side. He is familiar and foreign at once, your Minho, and also a character, one who clasps his hand behind your back and ducks down to gently kiss your lips.

“Take a breath, baby,” Changbin says with a little chuckle. “You look like you’re going to pass out.”

“Mmf,” is the noise you make, affirming that observation. It makes Minho laugh, a breath against your lips.

“Waiter is thirty seconds away. You just want to look like a dumb, horny couple that wandered away from the party,” Changbin says. “Listen to me, I’ll tell you what do.”

You nod, sucking in a breath when Minho kisses you again. This time his mouth is a little more insistent, his lips coaxing yours open.

“Close your eyes, baby,” Changbin says. “Let your shoulders drop. Minho has you, it’s okay.”

You didn’t even realize how tense your shoulders were. You listen to Changbin, letting yourself go lax. Minho holds you, as promised, his arms sturdy around your waist as he kisses you deeply.

“Let Minho move you,” Changbin says. “He’s going to lean you against the wall to hide the device, okay? Put your hands on his shoulders. Higher, baby, go around his neck. Just like that. Let him lead you.”

Minho walks you backwards, carefully pressing you against the wall, hiding the dangling cypher scrambler with your bodies.

“We wanna give our intruder a little jump scare, okay?” Changbin says. “Minho.”

That is all the direction he gives Minho, trusting the adept con-man to know exactly what to do. Minho does, his hands sliding down to your hips to pull them flush against his. It arches your back. Your hands are hooked behind his neck and you squeak, your fingers instinctively sinking into his hair.

“God,” Changbin says. The sudden dark colour to his voice sends a spark of heat shooting through you. It clearly surprises Minho too, his lips parting with a caught breath. “You both look hot. Fuck.”

Changbin takes a steadying breath. You and Minho look at each other. You get to see his smirk for a split second, then his mouth is on yours and it is no longer gentle and questioning. It is a demand, hot and wanting, your lips opening with his guidance, your heart skipping beats when he licks in your mouth.

“Do it back,” Changbin says. “You want him to fuck you, baby. Make him believe it.”

You think the him is question is the waiter. Isn’t it? You don’t even know where the waiter is anymore, if he’s around the corner or watching. In the haziness of your kiss, it hardly seems to matter. You kiss Minho back with the same urgency, pulling him closer, whimpering when he bites your bottom lip.

“Fuck,” is the gentle whisper that Minho can’t fight. His brow is crinkled, his eyes closed. He kisses you again, his hands jumping up to gather yours. He laces his fingers with yours and presses your hands into the wall on either side of your head.

“Wrap your leg around his waist,” Changbin says. “Like that, that’s it, you’re okay.”

You lift one leg, shaky and unsure. Minho catches you under the knee and pulls it more certainly around him. He holds you there, his other hand grasping your throat very gently as he kisses and kisses and kisses you. Your hands are still splayed open by your head, thoughtlessly awaiting direction. Your fingers curl into your palm and you moan for real when Minho presses against you.

Minho is a good actor, but the hard shape in his pants is very real. When he grinds against you, so open and soft with your leg around his waist, it draws all those guttural sounds right out of you. Minho makes one back, swivelling his hips in a maddening grind against you. It is all too easy to imagine him fucking you like this, the effortless back-and-forth of his hips, your sweet sighs as he takes you, imagining Changbin there, his breath also stuttering.

You do not forget he is watching all this, especially when he lets another low laugh and asks, “She feel good?”

“Yes,” Minho answers without hesitation, breathing the word against your lips.

“Hold his face, baby,” Changbin says. “Kiss him like you mean it. Ask him to fuck you with it.”

You know what he means by that: to kiss Minho with fervency and heat. You do obey, cupping his face with both hands and kissing him deeply, but the fuzziness of desire mixed with Changbin’s words makes your brain go screwy with want. Not only does your kiss convey that desire, but words rush past your mouth, crashing into Minho’s lips in a breathless flurry.

“Fuck me, fuck me, please,” you say, your voice pitching up into a little whine as you rock against him. “Want you to fuck me so bad, baby,” you say, thinking of both of them at the same. You kiss Minho’s surprised, open mouth, your eyes closed, your voice loud in this hazy space as you say, “I’ve been thinking about it all night. Need it so bad. Please. Want you inside me. Want my mouth on you. Come in me. Come on me. Take me, please. I’m so hot and wet, it’ll feel so good, don’t you want to feel how wet I am? Don’t you want to fuck me too?”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Changbin says, followed by a rush of even more inventive curses.

Minho settles on another simple, surprised, “Fuck.”

Then someone is clearing their throat. Minho jumps, his hands clamping tighter around you, protective.

“Oh, right, this clown,” Changbin says. “I hate that he’s too far away too punch.”

You giggle in spite of yourself, which is good because you think you might simultaneously die of embarrassment. You drop your leg and Minho lets you go, pulling himself together faster than you.

You let him do his thing, sliding a hand through his hair and smirking at the waiter as he saunters over. He makes his little speech, something-something-something a moment alone with the missus, something-something sorry-sorry-sorry. He walks the waiter back around the corner, giving you a knowing glance over his shoulder.

Thank god your cypher scrambler has its act together, even if you are a mess. It takes you longer to right yourself than it does for the scrambler to finish its job. Your hands are shaking as you break into the hub, but muscle memory takes over when you have your mini-laptop open.

Minho joins you a minute later. Your entire body lights up like a firework when he steps close to you. Nothing in his expression conveys anything more than professionalism – his queries are about the job and the job alone – but there is an ache between your thighs that won’t subside. You know he feels the same way as you can see he is still hard despite how much he glares at the wall. He adjusts his pants several times while standing in that closet of a hub with you. You keep glancing at each other, your gazes heady, speaking volumes more than your polite conversation.

When you leave and he puts his hand on your lower back, you shiver. You think you might double over from the persistent thumping of your easily-distracted pussy.

Changbin lets out a long sigh and a nervous giggle. “Good work, team,” he says.

You have worked enough jobs that you manage to set aside your personal feelings for the time being. It is easy to lose yourself in your work, especially when you really have to fight the security system.

You get inside the storeroom. You know it is filled with more traps and alarms so you sit down beside the door and type away on your laptop. You nearly break a sweat with the intensity of your work.

“She’s hot when she’s doing her thing,” Changbin suddenly says.

You lift your head and catch Minho’s eye. He smiles at you. “I agree,” he says.

Your heart starts skipping beats again. You look down at your laptop, feeling uncharacteristically shy under his gaze.

“Don’t distract me,” you say, making both of them laugh a little. You glare at Minho but there is no real animosity behind it.

At least they both acquiesce, going silent while you work. You manage to disarm most of the storeroom. The best you can do for the remainder of traps is trigger their subsequent lighting rigs so you can see them all. A labyrinth of blue light brightens the dark entry room, revealing each laser trigger that blocks your path to the locked compartments.

You look up at Minho whose calculating gaze is already tracing each intricate beam.

“Got it?” Changbin asks.

Minho starts unbuttoning his suit. “Always,” he says, smirking.

Minho flips the blazer down his arms, revealing just a tight white crop top beneath it. His jacket, shoes, and jewelry form a pile beside you. Minho does a few quick stretches before confidently approaching the laser grid.

Before his criminal life, Minho was a dancer, and a good one. He draws the same graceful lines with his body now, making each manoeuvre look easy even though you know it is incredibly difficult.

“He’s hot when he’s doing his thing,” Changbin says.

“Yeah,” you say, biting your lip and watching Minho move. “Gotta agree.”

Minho slips over and under each laser, twisting and bending and sliding with ease. He pops up on the other side with a graceful twirl, throwing you a wink over his shoulder before flipping a switch on the control panel. It powers down the censors so you can scurry across the room to join him.

The compartment door unlocks with your final hacked access code, the door swinging open to reveal your loot. Changbin gives a successful holler into your earpiece, making you and Minho duck with his volume.

“I’ll bring the car around, baby,” Changbin says while you two roll your eyes but smile.

You pack your fold out bags with your selections. One key to success is never being overly greedy. You walk away with a substantial victory nonetheless.

You hurry out of the storeroom with your prize haul. Minho gets dressed again, though he doesn’t button up his jacket. He takes a second to catch his breath while you restore each alarm so nothing appears out of place. When you are ready to go, he takes your hand, smiling. You run hand-in-hand back down the corridor, making a few sharp turns until you find a staff exit. There is a small drop so Minho jumps down first then holds out his arms for you. Though you could make the jump easily, you still let yourself fall into his arms.

He holds you close as he puts you on your feet. You are riding the high of adrenaline and success, your heart soaring, which might be why you so easily surrender to desire. You kiss him, sudden and brief but tantalizing. He blinks back at you with surprise, his face scrunching with that astonished little laugh of his.

You smile at him. A line of sweat dots his hairline and you reach up, smoothing some messy strands of purple hair. The gentle caress changes the whole shape of his face, his eyes heavy-lidded, his breathing harder. You feel yourself change too, your heart pounding against his chest when he pulls you close.

You got greedy with that kiss and greediness has consequences. You are so distracted with each other that you don’t notice the security guards coming at you from the opposite direction.

“Hey!” one shouts. “What are you doing out here?”

You and Minho look over, then at each other. There is no time for conversation. You grab each other’s hands and start running, your bags of stolen goods bouncing on your shoulders.

“Hey!” the security guard shouts again. You can hear their heavy footsteps thundering after you, fast despite their muscle and bulk.

You turn the corner onto a backstreet just in time for the camper van to swing into view. The door slides open and Changbin jumps out. You pass each other, dropping hands so Changbin can dart between you.

Panting, you and Minho watch as Changbin effortlessly takes down the guards.

“He’s hot when he’s doing his thing,” you say, giggling.

Minho laughs, nodding. “I agree,” he says.

Minho takes the steering wheel so you can apologize to your baby for abandoning her. Changbin jumps back in the van and the three of you drive away with another successful haul.

Later, back at the penthouse, Minho takes the longest shower in an effort to scrub the purple out of his hair. You are in your bedroom when he finally emerges. You can hear him and Changbin talking in the living room. By the sounds of it, the purple is still threaded in his dark brown hair, likely to last a few more days. You smile to yourself, listening to their playful back-and-forth as Changbin teases him and Minho snarkily retaliates.

It is tradition after a successful job to have a few drinks and relax. Contacting your fence and taking care of business can wait until tomorrow.

You can hear the usual music playing through the speakers, can hear the clink of bottles and glasses, can hear Changbin and Minho laughing and talking.

You look at your reflection in the mirror. Though you seldom have occasion to wear pretty luxuries, you have enough money at your disposal to treat yourself. You have been changing in and out of different lingerie sets since you got home. You think this one might be just right: a silky black set worn under a lacy black dress that falls to your thighs. It is suggestive but arguably casual. You could just be wearing it as pyjamas, right? Sure. Sure. Totally normal pyjamas for a totally normal night.

The best con is one that is close to the truth, Minho had said. Then he stuck his tongue in your mouth and you begged him to fuck you with Changbin’s help. Even you, who is terrible at reading and understanding people, know what truth was in that charade.

You take a deep breath and march to your bedroom door with determination. You throw it open so hard that it smashes into the wall, startling the boys in the other room. You ignore the crash and scurry into sight, avoiding eye contact.

“Hello,” you say.

There is a moment of prolonged silence then Changbin says, “Hi.”

You look up. They are both staring at you, both wide-eyed, both in sweatpants and t-shirts with their hair undone and fluffy. They look very casual and very surprised. Minho is clutching a beer bottle and Changbin is holding a bowl of popcorn. Both of them are frozen.

You smile a very awkward smile.

“Hello,” you say again. “I am… I am… dressed. For bed. My bed. For being in my bed, like this, as I am dressed right now. I am going to that bed, now, like this. You can… join me. If you want. If you don’t want, then, okay. Hello. And. Goodbye. Bye.”

You run back to your bedroom and slam the door closed.

Other than the soft music still swirling in the air, the penthouse is quiet. You cannot hear the boys, not a comment, not a sound, not a breath.

Then you hear the popcorn bowl hit the ground and a bottle smash. They shove and yell at each other as they stumble on the way to your bedroom. You are standing awkwardly in the middle of your room, hands folded in front of you, waiting as they crash into your bedroom door and curse at each other.

Changbin then very casually opens the door and they calmly walk inside.

“Hello,” you say.

“Hi,” Changbin replies.

You wish thoughts could be hacked like a computer. You cannot think of what to say or do next. You just stare at them and they stare back, although their gazes are considerably less nervous. Their stares are thirsty, drinking you in, looking from top to bottom and back again.

“Turn around,” Minho says, his gaze low.

You meet Changbin’s eye before obliging, slowly turning.

“Okay,” Minho says after a long moment, giving your heart plenty of time to go crazy in your chest. “Thank you.”

You turn back around, just as embarrassed as earlier but not angry at all. You cross your arms over your chest, flicking your gaze between them.

Minho reaches out and lightly punches Changbin on the arm. Changbin looks at him and Minho gives him a look, one you cannot decipher. You continue to stare at them.

Changbin nods at Minho then looks at you. He holds out his hand.

“Breathe, baby,” he says. “You look like you’re gonna pass out.”

You laugh but nod, taking his hand. He wastes no time pulling you close, guiding your hand to his heart as Minho did earlier. He holds your hand there and waits until you make eye contact so he can wink at you.

“I know I am the best looking man you have ever seen in your life,” he says, making you laugh again, “but I’m me. You trust us?”

You look at him then at Minho. His dark hair is still tinted purple, his bare face open and soft as he meets your eye. You smile and look back at Changbin, nodding.

“Always,” you say.

“Good,” Changbin says.

He cups your face and you lean towards him, anticipating a kiss, but he gently turns your face aside. You don’t even have time to be confused before Minho is kissing you. He swiftly draws all those sweet sounds out of you, pulling you towards him. Changbin steps behind you, holding your hips and kissing his way up your neck to your ear.

“Baby,” Changbin says while Minho slows his kiss to something gentle but heated, his tongue swiping at yours. “Listen to my voice, okay?”

You nod, light-headed but eager.

“Good,” Changbin says. “Come sit in my lap. Over here.”

Changbin is strong enough to haul you around. You barely have to move, letting yourself go soft in his arms. He sits on the edge of the bed and puts you in his lap, spreading your legs over his thighs. You stare up at Minho, out of breath, your thighs twitching to close for pressure. Changbin slides a hand down, stroking your inner thigh and making you jump, his other hand tugging down your dress and immediately going for your breast.

Minho sweeps a hand through his hair, taking a breath before stepping up to you.

“Still want your mouth on him, baby?” Changbin asks, reminding you of all the things you whispered in that heated moment.

You nod, whimpering when Changbin slides his hands into your panties and touches you directly. He circles and circles the most sensitive cluster of nerves, grunting and pressing his lips to your neck.

“She’s so fucking wet,” Changbin says. He slips his hand out of your panties and abruptly grabs Minho by the hand, tugging him closer. Minho brings that hand to his mouth, licking your wetness off Changbin’s fingertips. “Touch him baby,” Changbin says. “You see how hard he is for you?”

You can see. You can feel Changbin too, hard under you. Their sweatpants do little to disguise it.

You do not hesitate obeying, tugging on the waistband of Minho’s sweats. Everything feels so dreamy and good, surrounded by touch. It all seems to happen quickly; suddenly Changbin’s hand is in your panties, Minho’s dick is in your mouth, and Minho’s hands are tugging the straps of your dress down. This ends with you drooling messily all over the end of his dick, sucking on the head and murmuring nonsense while Changbin makes you come on his fingers. Then Minho kneels in front of you both, your legs end up over his shoulders, and you find yourself hurtling towards another orgasm on his mouth.

You dress ends up somewhere, the panties too. The bra is barely on, the straps hanging down your arms. Changbin finally kisses you when you are on your back in the middle of the bed. He lays between your open legs, his fingers filling you up as you continue to gush all over his hand. You grab him, squeezing his biceps as he effortlessly moves that strong hand between your legs. Minho climbs up too, his shirt somewhere across the room. He grabs your hands and pulls them over your head, pinning them into the pillows before ducking down to kiss you. You come for a third time before either of them even fucks you.

Then they do. Minho first, with you under him, listening to every direction Changbin murmurs in your ear. You lift your legs around his waist when Changbin says, then touch yourself when Changbin asks, and shudder when Minho comes inside you like you earlier begged.

Then Minho is behind you, holding you, touching you, protective and familiar while Changbin fucks you. Changbin has a surprisingly filthy mouth, continuing to tell you how good you feel and how good you look. Minho is quiet but fully entranced by you, his hands constantly wandering. He slides one hand down and rubs you off while Changbin fucks you. Then he leans over your shoulder and kisses Changbin on the mouth, making Changbin finish too.

The music is still playing in the next room. The three of you lay there in various states of undress, you in the middle, sweaty and messy, the boys panting and gently stroking your arms and thighs.

“I love you guys,” you say. It is incredibly cliché to make a love confession after several mind-blowing orgasms, but you don’t care. You don’t need to play games or tell lies or be good at socializing, not with your boys. You can just be your nerdy self, confessing your feelings even while drifting into sleep.

You smile when you feel Minho kissing your cheek, Changbin giggling on your other side.

“It will have to be big,” Changbin says. “The biggest.”

“Hmm?” you ask, looking at him strangely.

“The diamond we steal to put on your finger,” Changbin says, holding up your hand and circling your ring finger. You laugh and try to pull your hand back but Minho catches it, nodding in accord.

“I agree,” Minho says. He kisses your temple. “I know how criminals work,” he adds. “You’re not getting stolen away from us.”

He and Changbin exchange an affectionate glance over you, nodding at each other, then they are each kissing a side of your face as you squirm and laugh. You swipe at Minho’s purple hair and kiss Changbin’s cheek, then nestle into their arms as they wrap around you, protective as always.

#skz smut #stray kids smut #lee minho smut #seo changbin smut #lee minho x reader #seo changbin x reader #minho x reader #changbin x reader #skz x reader

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bambikisss · 4 months ago

Text

Congratulations :: Song Mingi + Choi San

🎶: One of the girls - The IDOL

📙: After debuting at number one for your 1st album, you decide to rent out a club to celebrate. While that was your idea of celebrating, your best friends San and Mingi have other ideas on how to

⚠: Honestly smut without plot, public, biting, anal, threesome, oral (m + f), nicknames (baby, beautiful, whore), riding, 69, multiple creampies

Bambi's notes: HI! I'm back from a break. I wanted to get back into the flow of writing, and I love a good Mingi/San fic, so here we are. Also, this is smut with a sprinkle of plot, <3

REBLOGS + COMMENTS ARE WELCOME AND ENCOURAGED

"And everyone, let's raise a glass to the woman who's album is already raking in 30 million dollars day of debut!" You smiled at the back of the club, raising your glass with everyone as they cheered for you, the red lights hitting your best friend who stood on stage. Your eyes moved over San's tough figure, his open suit jacket and loosely opened white button-up clung to him as he met your eyes, a smirk now on his lips as he said "To Y/N, may you rake in twice as much money next time so you can buy us all more drinks. Good Job, baby."

Everyone cheered at San's words, downing their drinks before they returned to dancing. You leaned back against the seat cushions and watched everyone enjoy the album release party. You had dropped your first album which your fans had been begging for, the album hitting number one on all music platforms and physical CDs already selling out, pre-orders racking up as well. To celebrate, you rented out a club for you and your guests to party and relax, as the album-making process wasn't easy. At least for you, anyway.

"You didn't have to do all of that, you know," You said as San slid back into the booth, a chuckle leaving his lips as he rested his head back against the cushion, already pouring himself another glass of whiskey. "You could've said something simple." "Why would I say something special when my best friend is number one all around the world tonight?" He chuckled, downing his drink easily. You rolled your eyes, your eyes landing on his eyes open chest as he chuckled. He was frankly too big for the shirt: his chest pecs were pushing away the fabric, giving you a view of his cross necklace that sat in between them, rising and falling in the club's red lights as he breathed, glimmering as if it wanted to draw your attention back constantly.

"I, for one, liked his speech" You turned to Mingi who slid back into the booth, the group of women he was dancing with leaving as he waved them away, turning back to you with a grin. He was now covered in kiss marks from the girl's lipstick-covered lips, their smudged kiss adoring his collarbone, neck, his cheek, and his chest. He smirked proudly as your eyes moved over them, chuckling out "Drink in in, Beautiful. The woman are crazy about me tonight." "You guys know that you're supposed to be celebrating me, right?" You asked playfully, taking a sip of your drink as Mingi moved to sit on one side of you. He placed his arm around the back of the seat, his fingers playing with your hair as he said "of course. Just how I celebrate things is different than this."

"Well then, how do you guys celebrate things?'' You asked, watching as both of your friends made eye contact across the table. San's eyes darkened slightly, the red lights adding shadows to his face as he moved closer to you. His hand landed on your thigh, smirking as he said "Well, we can show you…" Mingi smirked, agreeing as he reached into his pocket, pulling out his wallet before he placed a red card on the table in front of you. As you leaned forward to read the black ink on the card, your hair left your shoulders as Mingi's lips met your neck, San's hands moving up your sides.

IOU CARD: Good for anything as a replacement for a gift on a holiday

For Christmas a few years back, you had gifted both San and Mingi IOU cards as you couldn't afford to get them gifts at the time. However, when you did buy them gifts, you thought you had gotten them all back. Mingi must've held onto one. "Is the card good for this type of situation?" Mingi asked against your ear, his body blocking you from the view of everyone else in the club as he moved your face to meet his, San's hands moving down your sides to the bottom of your dress, pushing your legs apart. You felt like you were in a daze, Mingi smirking at your hooded eyes and parted lips. He repeated his question, his lips meeting your immediately when you nodded. When you had first gifted them the IOU cards, you didn't think they'd use them for this, but now that you had Mingi's tongue meeting yours and San's hands playing with your panties underneath the table while he watched, you weren't mad.

"You know, we could take you right here at this table, baby" San whispered into your ear, his chest now pressed against your back as you fully faced Mingi, your arms wrapping around his neck as you both made out. "Everyone here is so drunk and so focused on dancing that they won't even see us. How about I have you ride me, while you suck off Mingi, hmm?" San whispered his dirty thoughts into your ear, making you moan against Mingi's lips. The kiss heated up at that, Mingi smirked at the idea.

"I like that. Having tonight's special girl on the table, back against the table with my cock down her throat and you in between her legs, making a mess" You bit your lip at his words, your eyes slowly dragging down Mingi's body, landing on each of the kiss marks those women he was dancing with earlier left. San noticed your growing jealousy, his hands cupping your face to meet his as he asked "someone looks like she's jealous, isn't she?" San clicked his tongue, turning you to face Mingi once more as he pressed his cheek against yours. San was like the devil on your shoulder, his dark smirk showing off his dimples as he spoke to Mingi. "She's far too focused on all those kiss marks you have on you to feel good, man."

"Is that so?" Mingi asked, standing up from the booth to tower over where you were bent slightly due to San pushing you down a little with his chest. "Don't you wish these were from you, not them?" You felt your jealousy kicking into a higher gear, being egged on by San's words. You nodded, turning to kiss San when Mingi went to kiss you again. This made him chuckle darkly, San doing the same before he pulled back, licking his lips as he met your eyes. "I think someone needs all of our attention, don't you? You're just an attention whore, aren't you, Y/N?"

"She couldn't just be happy with having the world's attention, no, she needs our attention too" Mingi grabbed your jaw, making you face him as he picked you up. The club's loud music blocked out the noise from the wet kiss Mingi had you locked in, San rushing to knock every bottle and glass off the table with his arm before grabbing you by your hips, pulling you back to rest on the table. You looked up as the two men towered over you, the various people at the club not noticing anything, oblivious to the heated moment between you and your best friends.

You looked up as Mingi and San swapped places, their shoes crushing the broken glass bottles underneath their dress shoes as they settled into their new positions, with San sitting back down in the booth, setting your legs up to spread yourself for him, while Mingi stood at your head, his hands playing with his large belt buckle. "You're such a greedy whore, you know that right?" Mingi mumbled, his thumb rubbing over your lips before he moved to cup your neck, forcing your head to stay back as he removed his belt. "You've been so busy in the studio and haven't had time to hang out with us. Then here you are, inviting us out to celebrate the same album that you were locked away recording, and you get all upset when I get some attention."

You gasped as San pulled back your panties, letting the ruined fabric stick against you once more, making him chuckle. He ran his hands up and down your legs, kissing down the inside of your thighs as he looked up at you. "She can't handle it if someone else wants us as much as we want her right now."

Your mind was clouded as San's lips met your covered pussy, his tongue moving over the fabric before he took your clit in his mouth, his free hand's thumb rubbing over your covered entrance, teasing you as he pushed in his thumb, only to pull it back out a second later. Your eyes closed at the feeling, Mingi pushing down his pants only a little so that his cock can come out from his underwear. Your eyes opened up to see his cock standing up against his abs, a kiss mark right above it. His hands moved into your hair, pushing his cock slowly into your mouth as he moaned out "I'll have you kiss over these kiss marks when I'm finished filling your throat."

Your mouth widened to accommodate Mingi's size and length, your hands now pinned to the table by San's hands. You moaned as Mingi began to fuck your mouth, San's tongue and mouth focused on wetting your panties. Anytime you tried to drop a leg or pull him closer, San would firmly place your foot back against the table, biting the inside of your thighs with a warning. You were at their mercy as they used and played with you, and you loved it. The music only became background noise as Mingi moved faster, his tongue poking out over his lips as he watched drool and his precum leave your lips, dribbling down your cheeks and neck. He paused his movements, fully stuffing your mouth with his cock to the hilt, your nose pressing against the kiss mark that was left by one of the women he was with earlier.

"You know," he started, pulling his cock out till only the tip was in your mouth before he went back to slowly fill your mouth once more, repeating it multiple times. ''I thought about you the whole time I was with that girl? She doesn't know how to take the whole thing without complaining like this" He hummed, his thumbs rubbing your cheeks, cooing at you to breathe through your nose. Your legs were shaking, your eyes now welled up with tears from the constant teasing from San and Mingi fucking your throat. "You look like a mess, baby" Mingi continued to coo, leaning down to place a single bite onto one of your breasts. "Looking like such a mess at your own party."

San sat up from your legs, his hands moving to your hips as he laid his head against your pussy, looking up at you. His eyes were dark, his lips now in a devious smirk as he began to play with the waistband of your panties. "What if I announce to everyone that you're getting used on a table right now? That you're allowing us to taste you, and fill your throat with our cum over a fake IOU card?" San's words made you pull away from Mingi's cock with a pop, sitting up to ask what he meant. Mingi rushed to bite and kiss your neck, his hands moving to grab your breasts over the dress and San chuckled.

"When you let Mingi borrow your laptop that one time, he found your IOU card templates and he copied it and sent it to himself." San paused, picking up the IOU card, placing it into your mouth as he slithered up your body, his hands meeting Mingi's to play with and grab your breasts. You bit the card at the feeling, not wanting to let your friends know you were enjoying it, making San chuckle darkly. "Oh, she's trying to hide it now. She's trying to not show us that she likes it because we lied."

Mingi let out his own chuckle from your neck, his lips meeting your ear as he whispered "Let us make it up to you, you know, since it's your IOU party." San leaned forward to bite the card from your mouth, his hands now on your hips as he met yours. Your body was hot and full of need, your hand moving to cup San's jaw as he pressed himself against the front of you, his hard, clothed cock now pressed against your ruined panties. ''Is that a yes?" Mingi asked, making eye contact with his best friend. "Are you going to let us make it up to you?"

Usually, you would be mad if your best friends lied to you. You would've made them make it up to you somehow. "Faster, baby, fuck," Mingi had his head off the side of the bed, his hands gripping the bed as he fucked up into you, matching your bounces as you rode his cock. You nodded, moving as fast as you could to match his new pace, both of your noises filling the bedroom. You leaned your head back to rest on San's shoulder, his hands gripping your breasts as you moved your hips up and back, meeting both of their cocks. "Slow down" San moaned through gritted teeth, landing a hard smack to your breast before he gripped it again, his cock filling your ass as you rotated your hips. Mingi shook his head, moaning out loudly "no, fucking don't, I'm so close"

San shoved his face into your neck, littering it with marks as he began to move his hips to match your bouncing as well as he could, his mind fuzzy as he moaned out "I'm gonna cum if she doesn't slow down." You bit your lip as you sped up, making both men shake and moan your name, rushing to grab you wherever they could as they pressed their hips against yours, filling you up with their cum. You placed your hands on either side of Mingi as you all panted, San's hand rushing to grab your hair as he began to roll his hips into your plush ass, making you moan out.

"Kiss them" San panted, forcing your head down to kiss over all of the lipstick marks Mingi had on him. The sight made both men go feral, Mingi's cock hardening inside you as he moaned. You felt San tug you back, meeting your lips in a messy kiss, Mingi pulling out to litter your body with bite and kiss marks. You three had been at it since you all decided to leave the club, going at it in the car as they each took turns driving while the other one got a blowjob in the back of the car. Now you all had been in the same position for what felt like forever, your pussy now leaking all of Mingi's cum onto the bed, San's cum also doing the same. You panted against San as he pushed back in, San's growl covering your pants as he said "you're still so tight, no matter how many times I fuck this sweet ass and fill it. It's just as needy as you are."

You licked your lips at his words, San's mind turning off as he pulled you back into the messy kiss. Mingi licked down your stomach to your pussy, having you sit down on his face while San began to fuck your ass once more. You moved your hips over Mingi's tongue to meet San's movements, your mind shutting off at the sensation of Mingi moaning against you. San pulled back from the kiss abruptly, his hand moving to push you down onto your stomach against Mingi's. He continued to lap away happily at your pussy while you took his cock into your mouth, humming at the taste left on it by you. San smirked at the sight before he moved to slowly push back into your ass, making you choke around Mingi's cock.

"Breathe baby" He smacked your ass, his hand grabbing a handful of your ass. You tried to focus once more on Mingi's cock, bobbing your head, but once Mingi pushed his tongue fully into you, along with San fully pushing into your ass, you choked again, making both men chuckle. "She can't focus like this, San" Mingi chuckled, his ringed finger playing with your entrance before pushing into you slowly. You gasped, backing up against them both before you were met with two rough smacks to your ass, both men urging you to move faster. San pushed your head down on Mingi's cock as he resumed fucking you, chuckling and cooing at your loud, gurgled moans around Mingi. His hands landed on your hips, keeping you from moving away as they both used you.

You began to feel your sixth orgasm rush to you, your eyes rolling back as Mingi urged you to cum, his mouth latching onto your pussy with great need, San's pace becoming more brutal as you came hard, moaning loudly around Mingi. The vibrations from your moan made him cum as well, his cock returning to your throat as he emptied his load down it.

Your head fell against Mingi's thighs as San pulled out, his cum leaking out of you, down your thighs. You didn't react to Mingi moving, resting your body down against the bed. San kissed along your shoulders and back, soothing you slowly. "Did all that make up for the fake IOU?" Your eyes opened to face both men who were cheekily smiling at you, both covered in sweat and bite marks. You rolled your eyes, both men high-fiving each other before they laid down next to you.

"We should do this again sometime, baby" San whispered, his hands moving down your body to play with your clit lazily. You whimpered, Mingi now kissing your shoulder as he whispered "right now." "Mingi's right, we should do it again right now" San moaned, his lips meeting yours as Mingi moved down your body once more, moving in between your legs with a smile as he said, "all to celebrate you, babygirl."

"Do you think you can spell congratulations with your tongue?" San asked, grabbing the back of Mingi's head to force him into your pussy, Mingi's chuckle against your pussy made you moan out "please do."

"Well, since she asked so politely" Mingi hummed, his tongue moving out to play with your pussy, his mind focused on spelling one thing.

Congratulations.

@bambikisss | 2024

#bambikisss #ateez smut #ateez #ateez san #ateez mingi #ateez smau #ateez scenarios #ateez smut reactions #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #choi san #choi san smut #song mingi #song mingi smut #mingi smut #san smut #song mingi ateez #choi san ateez

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irisintheafterglow · 1 year ago

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in a world of boys, he's a gentleman

summary: a creep walks up to the shake stand window. your favorite customer scares him off. (college au!iwaizumi x you)

wc: 1.9k

cw/tags: college!au iwaizumi, creepy dude but he gets scared off don't worry, buff iwa gets nervous around you

note: so there's a protein shake stand like right outside my school's gym and that's where the inspiration for this little brain fart came from. also this is wholeheartedly dedicated to @shotorus my favorite iwa simp. i really hope you like this, it's my first time writing for your man but it most definitely will not be the last :D

likes, replies, and reblogs are appreciated <3

You didn’t anticipate finding a gym crush outside of the student rec center. Yet, there he was, every day at 5:00 passing the stand and every day at 6:30 ordering his usual, strawberries and bananas with chocolate protein powder. It’s a wonder how strictly he stuck to his schedule and you made it a point to have his order queued up in the system by the time he got to the window. To your detriment, it seemed that your infatuation had become obvious enough to your usually-oblivious coworkers.

“At this point, I think you took this job just to ogle him,” one of your friends points out as she runs a colander of fruit under the faucet. You give her a lighthearted glare and she flicks a few water droplets at you. “I’d guess you like seeing him more than the tips that other guys put in the jar. You really do so much for this company,” she says patronizingly and you roll your eyes. She had a point; you tended not to notice the phone numbers written on dirty napkins or social media handles hastily drawn on dollar bills. None of them interested you. None of them, except for the dude with a body like a Greek hero that made you want to get kidnapped by some mythological being.

“I just think he has a nice physique; is that such a bad thing?” She shoots you a skeptical look and you turn away sheepishly to check the clock. Thirty seconds to 6:30. “He should be here in a little bit,” you say quietly to yourself, hoping she doesn’t hear. It’s a nice sentiment, but ultimately futile.

“You’re counting down the seconds? Man, you’re worse than I thought.” She pats your shoulder sympathetically as she passes behind you and you lean your hands on the register counter.

“As if you’ve never had a gym crush before,” you fire back.

“You’re supposed to actually be inside the gym to have a gym crush,” she reminds you and you groan. “Why don’t you just switch your shift so you can see him while you workout?”

“I tutor before this, remember? Plus, I need to be able to charm the evening regulars so I can keep paying rent,” you admit. She nods in understanding and a glance at the clock shows ten seconds until 6:30. Your other usuals had come and gone for the day: the guy in the blue tank top that only seemed to work his forearms and biceps, the girl with the silly socks that had the most muscular calves you’d ever seen, the two frat bros with their backwards caps and arrogant voices. It hits 6:30, however, and your favorite regular isn’t behind the glass. He isn’t anywhere around, you realize. You can’t help the frown that draws the corner of your mouth down and, when you look to your coworker for support, she merely shrugs before grabbing a tub of powder from the top shelf. “It’s odd that he isn’t here yet.”

“Only you would think that,” she teases and you refocus on pulling up his usual order on the payment screen. “Maybe he got sick. There’s that frat flu going around right now.”

“Why would he be in a frat, though? And also, he’s definitely the type to wipe the hell out of every machine he uses.”

“If he uses machines; personally, he strikes me as a free weights-only kind of guy.” Before you can reply, a knock on the glass startles you back into customer-service mode. The man in front of you looked relatively normal, but the way his eyes looked you up and down several times made your stomach queasy. It wasn’t the first time creeps had checked you out through the window, but maybe you were feeling a little extra vulnerable waiting around for a regular who didn’t even know your name. Avoiding the man’s intrusive gaze, you shakily pull up his order, swipe his card for payment, and let him know that his shake would be ready soon.

“I have a question,” he says slowly before you can run and hide in the back. “What time are you out of here?”

“I’m not done for a while,” you state vaguely, praying that he wouldn’t ask about the remaining two and a half hours of your shift. “I work until closing.”

“I can come back and get you when you close.” His voice makes your skin crawl and his eyes feel like knives on your body.

“Excuse me?”

“Let me take you out to dinner. A nice looking person like you shouldn’t be alone at night.” Your heart drops into your stomach and your feet remain rooted to the floor, terrified in place. Was he gonna try to do something after you were off?

“Look, I’m not interested in any–”

“Hey, man. Are you done ordering yet? You’re holding up the line,” intrudes a voice that feels like a warm blanket wrapping around your shoulders. Somewhere between his usual order time and the creep asking you out, your favorite little crush came to stand in line to pay. His shoulders seemed extra broad today and the muscle of his biceps flexed under his compression shirt as he crossed his arms over his chest, staring daggers down at the guy who was freaking you out. He’d never looked so handsome, all sharp jawline and flexed muscles and piercing eyes. The creep recoils and scurries away, allowing you to take a deep breath that helps relieve some of the tension in your forehead. By pure muscle memory and running on adrenaline, your fingers swipe over the tablet and pull up his usual order before he can even say hello.

“Strawberry and banana with chocolate protein powder, right?”

“Yeah, that…that’s mine,” he says, slightly taken aback by the lingering expression of panic on your face. While he eyes you warily, you swipe his card and hand him his receipt, suddenly desperate to just disappear into the back for the rest of your shift. “Hey, are you okay?”

“What? No, yeah. I’m fine, totally fine,” you lie and give him a weak smile. His eyebrows furrow slightly and you can feel him try to analyze you, but not in the dehumanizing way as your previous customer. His eyes searched your expression worriedly and you caught him biting skin from his lip in concern. “It’s just that the guy before you was being a little weird.” Calling him “weird” was an understatement, but you didn’t want to inconvenience him more than you already have. “I’m fine, really.” He watches you for a moment more and then nods, murmuring a thank you under his breath and finding a spot to wait for his shake.

“This fell on the floor by the trash can,” he says plainly when he walks up to the pickup window after you call out his drink. The creepy guy hadn’t left the area yet, so your fight or flight instincts were still going haywire. Your gym crush, however, momentarily takes your attention by subtly sliding a dirty piece of paper across the counter to you as he picks up his cup with the other hand. “Thanks; I’ll see you tomorrow.” Before you can blink, he’s gone, leaving you with a cryptic folded message that makes your head spin. You sputter out an awkward farewell and hastily unfold the piece of paper.

I’ll be studying in the computer lab until the stand closes. If he’s still bothering you, come find me and I’ll walk you to your car or your dorm or wherever. -Iwaizumi Hajime

A sturdy rectangle of plastic falls from the paper and you stare at it in disbelief. It was an ID card for the university’s after-hours patrol division with his picture, full name, and student number printed on it. Iwaizumi, you echo mentally, you’re too good to be true. And, true to his promise, he’s a respectful distance away and stands with his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants at 9:00 when you lock up the shake stand. You’d lost sight of the creep an hour after Iwaizumi picked up his drink, but the paranoia didn’t leave your body and you’re only able to relax when he approaches you.

“This is yours,” you say, handing him his ID card with a small smile. “Thank you for looking out for me.”

“Of course. I’m sorry you had to deal with him,” he replies regretfully, uncomfortably adjusting his water bottle tucked into the crook of his elbow. “None of the guys at the gym like him. He’s always hitting on girls and giving them weird looks.”

“Looks like he was forced to look outside the gym, then,” you laugh lightly, feeling the tension release from your shoulders as you walk next to Iwaizumi in the direction of the parking lot. “Did your drink still taste okay? Or did my nervousness make it taste funny?” When he chuckles, it sounds like sunshine.

“It was just as tasty as it always is, thank you. You’ve really figured out how to make me the perfect drink every time.”

“Anything for my favorite customer,” you say without hesitation and your face feels like it’s been lit on fire. To your surprise, however, it seemed that Iwaizumi was just as flustered by your words. His eyes widen and his pretty mouth gapes a little bit, blinking rapidly to fix the short circuit in his brain. “I just hope he doesn’t come around here again. He makes my stomach churn.”

“Yeah, I get that,” he forces out and he’s silent for a while until your car is in sight. “Hey, sorry if this is super off-base, but do you wanna workout with me sometime? I can change the time I go but, if it means you don’t feel scared by that guy anymore, I’ll gladly rearrange my schedule.”

“You want me to workout with you?”

“I’d like to meet you for lunch sometime, too, but I figured I’d start with baby steps,” he admits, running a hand nervously through his hair while you fish your keys from your bag. “If you don’t want to, that’s totally fine–”

“No, no, I’d love to,” you reassure him and he looks visibly relieved. “I’ll change up my shift so you can still go around the same time you usually do, and I can just meet you outside. I’ve been needing a new spotter since mine picked up extra shifts in the library.”

“Great, yeah, awesome,” he says, a little dumbfounded by how eagerly you would give him a chance. If he was being honest, he’d wanted to ask you your name for months since you memorized his order, but he didn’t want to come off as pushy and ruin his chance with you. “Do you, uh, mind if I give you my number? Or I can give you a social media handle too if you’re not comfortable sharing your number.” God, he’s so good. He is so, so good. “Can you let me know you get home safe?”

“I will,” you promise. “Thank you for everything, Iwaizumi.”

“You can call me Hajime, if you want,” he offers softly and the fondness in his voice makes your heart flip. “Iwaizumi is fine too. Anything is fine.”

“Right,” you smile. “Well, goodnight, Hajime. Get home safe.”

“You too. Talk soon, okay?”

“I can’t wait.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi x you #iwaizumi x y/n #iwaizumi hajime x you #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi hajime x y/n #haikyu x you #haikyu x reader #haikyu x y/n

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crankydevon · 1 year ago

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Crab Day reblog

Crab Day? Crab Day!

Give crabs to your friends!

see https://www.tumblr.com/greater-than-the-sword/722789278504108033/crab-day for OP details.

Why:

As we now know, Tumblr is $30 million dollars in debt. Oops. Tumblr has announced some major (and unpopular) changes to the site in their attempt to get back above water. The alternative is that Tumblr ceases to exist. But maybe we can change that…

How:

There are 327 million unique tumblr visits per month, and almost 500 million active accounts. If 10 million unique users (or less, if we bought more than one) bought or gifted Crabs from the Tumblr store, we could knock out Tumblr’s debt easily. Buy crabs!

When:

July 29, 2023 is Crab Day, running through August 5 (for anyone who can’t log on that day) as Crab Week!

Who:

Everyone!! If you truly can’t afford to participate with a $3 crab, (or other item from the shop) post crab memes!

#crab day #crab day 2023 #support tumblr #hit me up if you want 3 dollars from me so you can give a friend crabs #3 dollars #crabs for mutuals

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24kmar · 6 months ago

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𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐇𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐄 (T. DUNCAN, A. DONALDSON, P. ZWEIG)

𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄

Apart of my fic "born stunna" and p2 to my fic "why you do the things you do"

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Art Donaldson x fem! Reader, patrick zweig x fem! Reader, tashi duncan x fem! Reader

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ MDNI,smut (edging, choking, bondage, being called a brat), angst, language, age gap (early 30's tashi, pat, and art early 20's reader) manipulative reader (wolf in sheeps clothing), sugar! Baby reader!, cheating, comfort sex with patrick and reader.

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: y/n goes home after hanging out with patrick, to which tashi and art scold her. What happens when patrick decides he cant get enough and goes to her match the next day. Arising conflict. Enjoy!! 🎀🩷

THANK YOUU TO MY GIRL @doll-0f-flesh FOR HELPING ME OUT IMMENSELY

Y/n learned from a very young age that she could get whatever she wanted. Growing up the golden girl with daddies money. All she need to do was flash her million dollar smile and she was in. That didnt mean she didnt work hard. No, she worked harder. Why use a minimum of your abilites to get something when you can get anything.

She was smart, ambitious, power hungry, always wanting more. She was good at using things to her advantage. A rich scholar and outstanding tennis player. Tennis was almost everything. Playing since 13, getting a scholarship to stanford at 17, going pro by 19, getting signed to NIKE a year later, and being coached by one of the best tennis players by 21.

Tashi and art have been coaching her for 2 years. Her now being 23. The word failure wasnt in her dictionary. It wasnt win or lose, just win. And tashi loved that. Tashi also loved her. And so did art. They both found themselves falling in love with her 3 months into coaching. To which they decided to go on a limb and make her theirs.

"Where the fuck were you" tashi spits out, walking towards y/n as she puts her keys on the counter.

"Taking a drive, i told you this before i left." Y/n rolls her eyes. "Dont roll your fucking eyes at me." Tashi says putting her finger in y/n's face. "When you said 'drive'" tashi airquotes "i didnt think you meant come home two fucking hours later! You have a fucking match tomorrow y/n!" tashi yells

Turning her head, y/n see's art leaning against the doorway, arms crossed with a dissapointed look on his face.

"Were you with patrick?" Art speaks up, walking towards her. Now its tashi and art infront of her. By the she gives him, the answers clear. "You fuck him?" He asks, walking behind her. Moving her hair out of the way and placing slow kisses on her neck. He already knew she did. He just asked to mess with her. "Course you did" tashi scoffs, gripping y/n's jaw.

"You know whats gonna happen now right?" Tashi asks, recieving a nod from y/n.

"Tashi please" y/n pleads, arms tied above her head. Tashi's strap hitting all the right places.

"Why'd you fuck him huh?" Tashi ask gripping her neck, though not enough to restrict any airflow. To be met with incoherent mumbles. Squeezing harder she asks again "fucking answer me" she gritts out, using her other hand to slap y/n's cheek. Not hard, just a tap.

"Mmm, cus y'were being mean" y/n babbles "bein too hard on me with tennis." She moans, getting closer to her climax.

"so you're telling me you did this cause you were being a whiny brat?" Tashi scoffs, pulling out. Ruining her orgasm for the second time tonight.

Letting out a pitiful whine y/n begs "tashi please, i just wanna cum" tears starting to brim. Turning her head to try another tactic. Locking eyes with art as he sits in a chair in the corner of the room. "Art" she whines, hoping he'll help tashi go easy on her.

"Nuh uh brat, hes not gonna help you" tashi spits, lining up her fake cock with y/ns entrance, slaming into her. Standing up, art walks over to the bed. Sitting behind y/n, pulling her to rest her back against his chest. Trying to lessen the blow, kissing her neck, fingers groping her front softly. The softness of his touch contrasting with the roughness of tashis.

It was gonna be a long night.

𝑮𝑨𝑴𝑬 𝑫𝑨𝒀

Stepping out of the car, y/ns nerves are all over the place. She knows she cant lose. If she did, they would blame it on patrick and what happend yesterday. She would never hear the end of it.

Now here she is, stepping out of the locker room. Stretching and getting ready for the match to start. She doesnt see art or tash. But she knows they see her. She feels a weird presence. Like someones watching her. Turning to look behind her she sees...oh shit. Patrick.

Locking eyes with her he send i small wave and smile. Why the fuck was he here? Did he want tashi and art to kill him?

She couldnt let him throw her off her game. Not win or lose, just win.

The match is almost over, y/n dominating the court. Walking her opponent like a dog.

"oh fuck no" tashi scoffs

"What? What happened?" Art asks, worried something happened with you.

"Patricks here" tashi shakes her head in disbelief "the fucking nerve on him".

Watching him get up to go to the bar, they stand up to follow. If he thought he was just gonna get away with this, he was sorely mistaken.

"Patrick" art calls out, him and tashi walking towards pat. "Why the fuck are you here" tashi narrows her eyes.

"Woah guys, dont get your panties in a twist" patrick chuckles "just here to support my girl" he smiles.

Oh no the fuck he didnt.

"you mean OUR girl" tashi spits "what on gods green fucking earth made you think you could go for her. None the less, come here."

"we already told you yesterday, dont ever try coming for her again. Are you trying to get us mad?" Art says

"Dont-" patrick begins, getting cut off by y/n

"Where the fuck have you guys been" y/n speaks, her words laced with venom "you missed my whole fucking game"

"We're handling something" tashi dismisses her

"Handling something, or being petty"

"Dont act like you didnt start this" tashi turns to y/n

"If i upset you then talk to me about it, dont scold me like a fucking child and pick a fight with patrick"

"Guys-" art tries to calm them down

"If you didnt act like one i wouldnt have to" tashi retorts

"you know what, fuck this." Y/n scoffs, reaching into her tennis bag "i hope you're happy to hear that i fucking won" she says, shoving her medal into tashis hands. "Dont even bother taking me home, im calling an uber" y/n turns around and walks away.

Tashi and art felt like shit. The whole car ride home being completely silent. Tashi staring at the medal and art driving, thoughts swarming his head. When they got home, y/n was no where to be found. Her keys and car gone , everything else still there.

They called out her name, looking everywhere. They didnt think the fight couldve had affected her to the point where she just went MIA. Calling and texting her countless times. Only to be met with the call going straight to voicemail. Meaning one of two things, they were blocked or her phone was on airplane mode. Both bad scenarios since it meant she didnt want anything to do with them.

The only one who knew where she was, was patrick. She didnt go far, just to some hotel. He was the only person she answered the phone to. She knew he wasnt the one who started it, since he explained what happend. Now here she was, crying into the bed as he rubbed her back soothingly.

He had never seen her cry, unless it was tears of pleasure or joy. Tears of pleasure when he made her feel good. And tears of joy when she won. It broke his heart.

Making her sit up, he cupped her face and spoke "what you thinking about pretty girl" he said softly, brushing her hair out of her face. "Dont wanna talk about it" she sighs "can you just...hold me?" Without skipping a beat he pulled her into a hug and sooths her. This had been the most intimate moment theyve had.

"Just wanna forget" she sniffled

Moving to kiss her neck, he whispers "can i help you forget?"

Sighing, she nodded. She needed this, and he needed her to know that he was always there. Whether art and tashi wanted him to be or not.

When tashi said patrick had no dreams she was wrong, soso wrong. Because he did have a dream. And it was y/n. She was all he wanted, all he needed.

She was arts star, tashis winner, and patricks dream.

His dream, his fantasy, his happily ever after.

#Spotify #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson #art donaldson smut #tashi donaldson smut #tashi donaldson #tashi donaldson x reader #tashi duncan x reader #tashi duncan smut #tashi duncan #challengers x reader #challengers smut #challengers movie #🪞𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐑𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬 🎀#💭𝐒𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐬 𝐅𝐢𝐜𝐬💭

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