#i want to play with this but idk what to do with it

[boar-cry]

oh, starlight.

[just-some-random-blogger]

I said I was going to reblog this when I woke up. That was today and now I'm sleepy and about to go to sleep but I REFUSSSE TO DO SO BECAUSE MY GOSSHHH THIS GOD MEEEEE SOMMEEEEEE TYPAAA WAYYYYY HELLO????????? 😫😫😫😫😫😫

Even if it was in a different way, you had a hard time refusing him when he used the same charm tactics as his twin brother.

I cannot put into words how this like... Changed my brain???? Like it's so beautiful and sensible and yah. That part. That would 100% happen if you were dating a twin like hello? Also idk the thought just makes me swoon ))))):

“Reckon we’re past that, hmm? Your problems are our problems, and all.”

JSJDJDJSJJSJSJSJJSHSHSHHSHA HES SO STUPID THIS IS WHY HES MY FAVE BB GIRL ARE YOU SINGLE IM TRYNA GET YOU PREGNANT AYO MY GUY WHAT DO YOU MEANNNNNNN WHEN YOU SAY THIS UR SO SILLY WTFFFFFF IM GIGGLING LIKE I GET PAID TO DO IT

“That’s a big deal.” He hummed, sympathizing with you to make you feel better. “Bloody inconsiderate, if you ask me.” But you weren’t asking him, and somehow his justification of your feelings only made you feel worse. “What? Not allowed to speak my mind?”

HE REALLY SAID SIS LOUDER AND

“If you’d rather, we can forget the elixir and grab dinner instead. I’m not Fred, but I’m pretty damn close.” He gave you a cheeky smile, earning an honest laugh from you.

NASJJSJSBSJJSJSB IM SO SORRY THE GEORGE GIRLIE IN ME WANTS SO GO HELL YEAH LETS MAKE THAT RAT FREDDIE RUE THE DAY HE WAS BORN 😫😈😈😈 HES JUST SO DARLING I LUV HIM HES SO SILLY AND STUPID FUCKKKK

“I was not getting sloshed, I was doing business.” He corrected, defensive over the fact. “S’pose you were hoping I’d take a little longer, yeah? Give you some more time to cozy up with my brother?”

“Blimey, Fred. If you took any longer, I’d imagine you’d have to move in with the lad.” George took your side on the matter. “At least she wouldn’t have to worry about you missing dinner again.”

👏THAT👏PART👏 RIP HIM TO SHREDS GEORGE. ANNIHILATE THAT GINGER GIT

“Yeah, right. What else did he fill in for, sweetheart? Anything you think I should know?”

“Yeah, but I bet you would’ve let him, right?”

EXCUSE ME

He grabbed your hand, spinning you back around to face him. He pulled you into him, his athletic build never leaving him even after he stopped playing quidditch.

.... WHAT ABOUT IT

“Bitching and moaning cause I couldn’t be home to take you to dinner… if you were so upset, why didn’t you come to me, princess? Tell me what was wrong?”

❓❓❓❓ DI BALE SANA NANDITO KA???? HELLO

(tr: NEVERMIND IF YOU WERE ACTUALLY HERE. and the pick is let's go stupid/idiot)

You could smell fire whiskey on his breath, feeling his chest heaving with anger against your own. As angry as you were, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of arousal run through you. The slight sneer on his face, the fire in his eyes, and the protective hold he had on you was sending your head spinning with thoughts much less pertinent to the topic at hand.

I fear I may be quaking in my boots... It's not the only thing quaking.

“See, Princess? She’ll always tell me the truth.”

NO CUZZZZ

His grin faded, slowly sinking into a scowl as your disobedience remained clear.

I love icarusing myself WHAT ABOUT IT WEASLEY

“So you don’t care who’s between your legs?” He continued, unrelenting as you stared him down. “Doesn’t matter who, as long as there’s a cock in you? As long as someone’s taking care of your pretty pussy?”

HES GOT SUCH A DIRTY MOUTH ON HIMMMMMMM FUCKKKK OFFF

“Doesn’t matter, sweetheart. When I’m done with you, I’ll be the only person you can think of. Surely then you won’t be able to forget who you belong to.”

Raw. Next twin.

“My little whore needs more?”

“Asking a lot from someone you aren’t being very good for.”

Brat tame me then 🙄✋ I dare you also

Silently, he sunk to his knees between your legs, pulling you to the edge of the table by your hips. He didn’t spare a single glance at your face before his tongue connected with your core, the warm wetness of his tongue even more pleasurable than the rough pad of his thumb.

VIOLENTLY SHAKING IM ILLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

“Oh, god.” You gasped, your legs resting over his shoulders in attempt to stop the constant trembling of the lips. “I’m yours, Fred, fuck!” You exclaimed, a sheen layer of sweat forming over your forehead as the knot in your belly began to tighten. “Only you can make me feel this good. Nobody else.” You whined, your fingers tightening on the locks of hair as you began to tug at the strands. You could feel him smiling against you, happy to finally hear you admit the truth.

UghhhhhhhhhhHHHHHHHHHHHHH SO GOOD NEXT TWIN LMAO HAHAHAHHH

Green-Eyed Monster | F.W.

For the first time ever, Fred Weasley finds himself jealous over the only person in the world he needn’t worry a bit about.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x f!reader

Word count: 8k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, oral + fingering (f!receiving, (lots of) dirty talk, name calling, praise/degradation, dom/sub dynamic, some nipple play, touch of a breeding kink, possessiveness/jealousy, some toxic themes, established relationship, swearing, drinking, arguing, angst, fluff, sorry if miss any!

first hp fic in a very long time! what better to post than this mess (jealous, possessive, sexy mess). basically pwp—let me know what you think! (Barely edited at all lmao my apologies)

You sat quietly at George’s desk, eyes focused on a piece of parchment as you both tried to break down the recipe George had scribbled down. There was a hiccup, a hitch in the plan of brewing a batch of Euphoria Elixir for the joke shop, and it was pushing back your plans to place them on the shelves this week. After a few hours of quiet deliberation on his lonesome, George decided to seek your help in hopes of speeding up the process.

So, the two of you put your heads together and re-read the ingredient list a million times, wondering how the hell it turned out murky green instead of sunshine-y yellow. The cauldron sat smoldering across the room, a rain cloud above it as the bubbly mixture spilled over the sides. Upon first glance, you had stated the absolute obvious.

“Isn’t that supposed to be a rainbow?” You raised an eyebrow, looking at your brother-in-law as he collapsed in his chair.

“Yes, you git.” George rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. You shot him a sharp look, warning him to be nice if he wanted your help. You knew George didn’t mean any of the insults—he was simply frustrated and maybe even a little embarrassed that he could not figure it out by himself. “Sorry, Y/N.” He conceded, realizing he came on a bit too strong.

“S’alright.” You assured him, stepping towards the desk where he sat. “Where’s the ingredient list? We’ll start there.” You offered, knowing you would help no matter how poor of a mood he was in. You loved George almost as much as you loved Fred, if you had to compare. Even if it was in a different way, you had a hard time refusing him when he used the same charm tactics as his twin brother.

After spending so many years in a relationship with Fred, it would be obscure for you not to have a bond with the closest person to him. Over the years, he’d surpassed a friend and had grown into your own brother. You were certain that no matter where life took you and Fred, George would always hold a special place in your heart. When the two opened their shop in Diagon Alley, you volunteered most of your free time to help them in any way you could, and whether it was tweaking new products or doing some of the dirty work, you never really minded.

That evening in specific, Fred was off on some ‘official business’, which really just meant meeting with a potential product buyer at The Leaky Cauldron. Last month, George took the burden of doing so, and they decided it was only fair for him to do it this time. Unfortunately for you, as much as you loved supporting them, it did interfere with your evening plans with him. So, sulking and trying your best to swallow it down, you distracted yourself with stocking shelves downstairs to prepare for another busy day ahead.

You were actually near grateful when George emerged from the office, calling out to you in desperation. It gave you a break from the monotonous back and forth, and someone to talk to. If it could not be Fred, you decided George was the next best.

“So, what’d’ya think it could be?” George asked, peeking over the cauldron that was still spitting back at him. He dodged out of the way, trying his best not to get any of the splashback on his new jumper.

“Well, from what you’ve told me, seems like you put all the right stuff in.” You deducted, pursing your lips slightly as you read over the list for what seemed like the millionth time. “Sad as it sounds, I doubt we can save it now, even if we figure out what happened.” You said, recalling your potions knowledge that Snape had relayed over the years.

“Right, but I’d like to know what’s wrong before I try again.” He explained, taking a moment to look over your sad expression. His eyebrows furrowed, his head cocking to the side as he tried to figure out where it was coming from. “What’s got your knickers in a twist?” Your eyes flickered upwards to meet his, your cheeks tinged red from the heat of the room. Your lips dipped into a frown as you shrugged your shoulders, brushing him off so you did not need to explain yourself. “I know you better than that. Come on, now.” He urged, placing his palms flat against the desk as he leaned towards you, a challenging look in his eye.

You narrowed your brows, keeping a stony expression as you met his gaze. “What’s it to you, Weasley?” You shot back, unsure of where your defensive nature was coming from. Perhaps you weren’t willing to discuss your relationship problems with your boyfriend’s twin brother, or maybe it was because you felt foolish for being upset at all.

“Reckon we’re past that, hmm? Your problems are our problems, and all.” He responded, also unsure of why you were being so reserved with your thoughts. Usually, you were an open book, especially with the two of them.

“My problems aren’t your problems, Georgie.” You shook your head, shutting down the ridiculous notion. “Let’s get back to the real problem, yeah?”

“No, I don’t think so.” George disagreed, his concern now over something completely different. “Is it about Fred?” At that, the tips of your ears began to burn and you shifted uncomfortably in your seat. “Ah, I see.” A devious smile crossed his lips.

“It’s not a big deal.” You covered your tracks, tapping the ink-less quill against the worn parchment.

“I have a hard time believing you, considering you just lied to me.”

“Lied is a strong word,” you rolled your eyes, quickly realizing that there would be no escaping the conversation. “I didn’t lie about anything.”

“What’s he done?”

“Nothing!” You exclaimed, a dry laugh leaving your lips. “It’s just… I’m just being dramatic.” And it’s true, you were being dramatic. Well, maybe not fully, but that’s what you were trying to convince yourself of. “I just miss him, I suppose. I know you both have been busy, but I think maybe I underestimated how busy you would actually be.” You continued, knowing it was wrong to confide in his twin brother about your relationship issues. Still, it felt good to get it off your chest, to voice the concern and have someone shoot you down, just so you knew you were being irrational. “This is the third night in a row we’ve canceled our plans. I’ll get over it. It’s no big deal.”

“That’s a big deal.” He hummed, sympathizing with you to make you feel better. “Bloody inconsiderate, if you ask me.” But you weren’t asking him, and somehow his justification of your feelings only made you feel worse. “What? Not allowed to speak my mind?”

“No—“ you let out a defeated sigh, slumping down in your seat. “I know that, but I was hoping you would tell me I’ve gone mad, instead.”

“Blimey, Y/N, you’re allowed to be upset. We're busy, yeah, but you’re still his girlfriend.” George said, jumping slightly when the rain cloud above the cauldron let out a crack of thunder. “If you’d rather, we can forget the elixir and grab dinner instead. I’m not Fred, but I’m pretty damn close.” He gave you a cheeky smile, earning an honest laugh from you.

“S’alright, Georgie. Thank you, though.” You appreciated his kindness, but you were sure it would only make your predicament even worse, considering Fred’s recently acquired short-fuse when it came to you and George spending so much time together. It was odd for him to be so protective, so jealous of the one person in the world he needn’t worry about, but it seemed as though the new trait was permanent. Perhaps it came from the fact he was also missing you due to your busy schedules, and how it sometimes seemed you and George were most often left at the shop alone.

“You know, I have noticed that lately.” George continued, leaning against the desk as he reminisced over the last few weeks. “Always seems to be us stuck here together.”

“Mhm.” You mumbled, slowly realizing that you weren’t as insane as you previously thought if he was noticing all of the same things. “Let’s just figure this out so I can get home.”

So you did. A grueling hour spent recounting George’s every step in brewing the elixir left the two of you puzzled and even more frustrated. By that point in the night, you were hunched over the long list of his steps you had jotted down so you could (hopefully) discover what he missed.

“I dunno, Georgie.” You sighed. “Seems like you did everything—“ you cut yourself off, leaning closer to the page on the desk as you caught something you hadn’t seen before.

“What?” He asked, his head snapping towards you. “What is it?”

“You said when you let it simmer, it was turquoise.” You said, looking up at him.

“Yeah, so?” He replied, confused why it was such a big deal.

“It’s meant to be blue.” You explained, a grin on your face as you relayed the information to him.

“Turquoise… blue… same thing, innit?” He asked, standing and walking over to you.

“Maybe to you.” You giggled, pointing to the piece of paper where he missed the step. “After you add the shrivelfig, you have to stir it until it changes color.” He walked up behind you, placing one hand on your arm as he leaned over your opposite shoulder. He smelled of butterbeer, likely due to the one he’d been nursing the entire time you sat together. You immediately noticed the warmth of his body, how similar it felt to how Fred touched you, but how drastically different it was all the same.

“Blimey, you’re right!” He exclaimed, his voice still soft so he was not yelling in your ear. “What would I do without you?” He gave your arm a gentle squeeze, leaning closer and pressing the side of his face to yours in a makeshift hug. His hand dropped to your back, lingering there as the conversation continued.

“It’s nothing, really.” You smiled, closing your eyes to enjoy the warmth for a moment. “So now you know. You can do it again, but make sure to stir it until it’s blue. By tomorrow, we’ll have it bottled and on the shelves just like we planned.”

“Our number one girl, saving the day yet again.” He sighed in relief. “I better get to it—“

Before his thought could finish, the door to the office swung open, cutting him short. Your eyes turned upwards, landing on a slightly drunken version of the boyfriend who’d abandoned your evening plans. The gloss of his eyes and the goofy smile on his lips led you to believe so, and the redness on the apples of his cheeks only solidified it. Only his cheeky grin didn’t last too long when he processed the scene in front of him, how close the two of you were, how heavy George’s hand seemed on your back and how rosy your own cheeks were.

Quickly, his jaw tightened, his gaze narrowing as he tried to decipher the whole situation. His nostrils flared ever so slightly, and his arms raised to cross over his chest. Immediately, you knew what you’d be in for; a long, tiresome argument that changed absolutely nothing. Instead of fighting the silent accusations, defending yourself for no real reason at all, you watched him with the same intensity while you awaited a snide comment.

“So what’s all this, then?” Fred asked, his face clearly conveying all of his emotions.

“Helping Georgie make the elixir while you were off getting sloshed at The Leaky Cauldron.” You muttered, noticing George straighten himself up in hopes of avoiding any further damage.

“I was not getting sloshed, I was doing business.” He corrected, defensive over the fact. “S’pose you were hoping I’d take a little longer, yeah? Give you some more time to cozy up with my brother?”

“Blimey, Fred. If you took any longer, I’d imagine you’d have to move in with the lad.” George took your side on the matter. “At least she wouldn’t have to worry about you missing dinner again.” At that, Fred’s eyes cut to you, immediately understanding where the underlying tension was coming from.

“Is that right?” Fred’s voice was no louder than a whisper, all of the pieces clicking together in an instant. “I don’t suppose the two of you had dinner? Let him fill in for me while I was gone?”

“No, we did not.” You snipped, standing as you gathered the ingredients for George’s second attempt at the brew.

“Yeah, right. What else did he fill in for, sweetheart? Anything you think I should know?” At that, your eyes widened and your face turned red. Your entire body felt like it was engulfed in flames, appalled that he would even think such a thing.

“Piss off, Fred.” You muttered, stepping out from behind the desk as tears stung your eyes. George shot you a sympathetic look as you pushed past his brother and out into the stairwell. You trodded down to the main level, swiping fallen tears away from your cheeks as you rushed out the front entrance of the building.

The cool air of the night was nice, especially after spending so long cramped up in the tiny office space, but it was not as freeing as you might have hoped once you heard footsteps following behind you. Without acknowledging him, you pulled your keys from your pocket, hoping that maybe he forgot his own set and you wouldn’t have to deal with his drunken arguments tonight if you got inside before him.

Of course, you knew that was childish and cruel, because despite being upset with him, loving him was the only thing you knew how to do. You unlocked the front door, holding it open with your boot-clad foot as he stumbled his way behind you. As soon as he passed through the doorway, you continued on your journey to ignore him and tossed your keys on the counter.

“Hey,” Fred reached out, his warm hand landing on your arm, stopping you from running any further from him.

“What?” You snapped, immediately regretting the harshness of your tone. He recoiled at the sound, shocked that you spoke to him in such a way. Usually the two of you saw eye to eye on everything, and in your long standing relationship arguing had never been your thing. Until you left school, you were certain the two of you had never been angry at each other, ever.

“What the bloody hell was that about? I leave for a few hours, and the two of you get on like that? Does that happen every time I step out?” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes again, wondering why this became such a problem in the few short months you’d been graduated.

“Merlin, Fred. You’re acting like you caught us in a broom closet.” You tried again to make your way to the bedroom, unwilling to argue a point he knew was blasphemous anyhow. “We were working, not fucking.”

“Yeah, but I bet you would’ve let him, right?” He grabbed your hand, spinning you back around to face him. He pulled you into him, his athletic build never leaving him even after he stopped playing quidditch. “Bitching and moaning cause I couldn’t be home to take you to dinner… if you were so upset, why didn’t you come to me, princess? Tell me what was wrong?” You could smell fire whiskey on his breath, feeling his chest heaving with anger against your own. As angry as you were, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of arousal run through you. The slight sneer on his face, the fire in his eyes, and the protective hold he had on you was sending your head spinning with thoughts much less pertinent to the topic at hand.

“Maybe I would have if you spared me the time of day.” You argued, finding yourself short of breath as you realized just how much he towered over you. “But, as it seems, you’ve been too damn busy to spare me a second glance.”

“Christ, when did you get so needy?” His rebuttal came easy, like he’d been waiting to have this fight for weeks. “Weren’t satisfied at home, so you thought my brother could do it for you?”

“Are you daft?” You hissed, feeling his fingers tighten on your hips. You hated that the feeling made you forget about your troubles, urging you to push the argument to the side and settle it in a better, more pleasurable way. “If that’s what I wanted, you think I’d be up here arguing with you?”

“That depends, sweetheart. Were you planning on getting caught?” He raised an eyebrow, the thud of his heart against his chest letting you know just how worked up he was. There was no way he truly believed you would do that to him, especially after all you had been through together. You wondered if maybe the lack of time spent with each other was getting to him, souring his thoughts because he missed you just as much as you missed him. “We may be identical, Princess, but he could never give you what I can.”

You hated to admit it, but for some strange reason, jealousy looked really good on him.

“What, a headache and a poor mood?” You decided to play his game if he wasn’t willing to listen to reason. If he wanted to fight, you could do it too. “I’m sure he could manage. In fact, he could probably do a hell of a lot more.” That seemed to strike a nerve in him, pushing him over the edge in an instant and changing the entire mood hanging heavy in the room. He no longer wanted to talk, but rather prove a point.

He took a step backwards, never easing his hold as he pushed you towards the kitchen table. He didn’t stop until your ass hit the edge, a mischievous look in his eye replacing the earlier annoyance. He had you locked in place, no intent to back down as he stared down at you over the bridge of his nose. Then, a small smirk turned the corner of his lips, leading you to believe he was also thinking of a much more simple way to solve your problems.

“Maybe you just need a reminder of who you belong to, yeah?” He asked, his voice quieter than it was before. You felt your mouth run dry, your eyes never leaving his as a dull ache between your legs began to pester you.

That would make you feel better, but he had pissed you off enough that you wanted to refuse him the satisfaction.

“Maybe we should get Georgie up here. According to you, he’d be the one to set me straight.” There was a slight venom in your tone letting him know you wouldn’t be letting anything go so easily. A low chuckle shook his shoulders, his eyes gleaming with a sinister look you weren’t sure you’d ever seen from him before that night. He shook his head ever so slightly, playing into you as he reached one arm behind you.

Your heart raced as you awaited a response, wondering if maybe you pushed him too far and crossed a boundary you could not double back on. You didn’t have to wonder long, because without a second thought, he cleared all of the items littering the table with one swift move of his arm. Papers scattered everywhere, floating through the air and landing all over the floor. Broken products and half finished merchandise for the shop tumbled off the edge, falling less than gracefully onto the tile below. Without ever breaking eye contact, he raised an eyebrow, daring you to say it again.

“You think he can fuck you better than I can?” He asked, giving you the opportunity to change your mind.

“Right now? Yeah.” You spat, wondering if he’d ever drop the act and get on with his day. “Seems like all you want to do is get on my nerves.”

“Yeah?” He challenged, his face so close to yours you could feel his breath on your skin. The tip of his nose grazed your own, his normally warm and comforting irises engulfed by his lust-blown pupils. Or perhaps it was anger that gave him the new look—you weren’t quite sure. “You’d rather go home with him at night? Wake up next to him every morning? Is that really what you want, princess?” He taunted, knowing very well that your heart was his, even if he found himself caught up in a few moments of doubt.

Still neglecting to give him any gratification, you nodded your head despite the sickening feeling that washed over you at the thought. As if he called your bluff before you ever said it aloud, he laughed at the certainty in your action, which only seemed to anger you further.

“If that’s the case, seems like I’ve got my work cut out for me tonight.” He responded, brushing the comment off as if it were nothing. If there was one thing Fred couldn’t ever turn down, it was a challenge, and since coming upstairs with you, it was only further proven to him that’s all this was. “Maybe I’ve gotten too comfortable, sweetheart. After so long, you think you’d know that you’re mine, huh?” Before he continued his tyrant, he used his hands on your hips to lift you onto the table with ease. The ache between your legs had grown stronger, more intense and impossible to ignore. You could feel the wetness soaking through your panties, and the thought of his strong arms lifting you so carelessly only made you spiral further. “Maybe I expect too much of you.” He theorized, recognizing the gleam in your eyes because he’d seen it a thousand times before.

He let his hands trail under the hem of your jumper, settling on the button of your jeans as he undid it with ease. You never let your eyes trail from his face, realizing that no matter how upset you were, it could never take away from how much you loved him. He was beautiful, his fiery red hair and the freckles splattered across his cheeks and nose creating a perfect picture. The softness of his complexion and the gentleness hidden deep in his expression assured you that whatever the two of you were doing was nothing more than an act. He knew you were his just as well as you did, but he knew the only way to settle the (admittedly, misguided) fear was to hear you say it aloud.

You helped him pull the fabric from your legs, wrapping your arms around his neck as you lifted your hips from the table. He discarded the clothing on the floor, paying no mind to it as he returned his hands to your bare legs. His eyes searched your face, carefully looking for any sign of discomfort. Instead, he was met with a pleading expression that only seemed to fuel his too large ego even further.

“No matter,” he disregarded his earlier rant, his eyes growing heavy as his hand fell between your legs. His fingertips grazed the thin fabric separating him from your core, a shiver running down his spine as he noticed the arousal that had soaked straight through. “I don’t mind having to show you. Least I’ll get to have my fun too, yeah?” He applied slight pressure to your aching clit, watching to see your reaction. Your eyebrows knitted together, your lips parting slightly as your hips moved forward into his hand, your body betraying your mind and begging him for something more.

At that, a grin encased his face, happy to see that he hadn’t lost his touch, even if your lives were vastly different and ever-changing by the day. He knew exactly how to make you feel good, and he took pride in it.

“See, Princess? She’ll always tell me the truth.” He taunted, his voice quiet as his eyes trailed down to his hand. You swallowed hard, knowing he had you in a stalemate. “Tell me again, who do you think knows how to make you feel good? Who does it best?” He was on a power trip, unwilling to slow down until he heard you admit it. Still, you stood your ground, pressing your lips tightly together so not a single sound could pass through. His grin faded, slowly sinking into a scowl as your disobedience remained clear.

He removed his finger from you, tracing the hem of your panties as he hooked his finger through the side of the fabric resting on your hip. He awaited an answer, giving you the opportunity to change your mind. When you kept your stoicism, he gave one, hard tug on the lacy fabric until it snapped in two. He used his other hand to do it to the opposite side, giving himself easy access to you without hearing a complaint on your end.

“So you don’t care who’s between your legs?” He continued, unrelenting as you stared him down. “Doesn’t matter who, as long as there’s a cock in you? As long as someone’s taking care of your pretty pussy?” Your cheeks flushed, your chest burning as the filthy words washed over you. “Doesn’t matter, sweetheart. When I’m done with you, I’ll be the only person you can think of. Surely then you won’t be able to forget who you belong to.”

His hand connected with your bare cunt, his fingers trailing through your arousal and settling over your clit as he began to trace slow circles into the sensitive area. Your legs trembled at the contact, finally feeling some relief from the nagging sensation that had been taking over.

“Fuck. Fred.” You whispered, giving yourself away immediately. He let out a low hum, pleased with the sound and knowing he was the reason for it. He had you where he wanted you, and now he just had to keep up the pace. You could feel his hardening length against your leg, distracting you completely from the pent up anger and frustration.

“That’s it.” He encouraged, his middle finger sinking inside of you as he let his thumb take over on your clit. “That’s my girl.” He made sure to accentuate the claim, never once letting you forget it. “All you needed was a little help remembering.” Slowly, he pumped his finger into you, keeping time with his thumb as he began to work you towards a climax. “You want to say it for me? Tell me what I already know?” Instead of responding, you let out a whine, your hips bucking forward into his hand. Although it wasn’t what he was looking for, it was just enough for him to keep going.

He curled his fingers as he pumped them into you, begging for a reaction as your hand wrapped around his bicep for support. You felt the tense of his muscles as he worked at you, only pushing you closer to insanity. You were his, undoubtedly and wholeheartedly, and you would be crazy to ever want anyone else.

“Stubborn little thing tonight.” He remarked, his eyes focused on the point in which his hand met with you, never breaking his stare as he watched his fingers disappear into you. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Need more, Freddie.” You replied, your eyes squeezed shut as you felt the pleasure pulsing under your skin. It had been a long time since you felt him this way, and your impatience was quite clear.

“My little whore needs more?” He teased, applying a little more pressure with his thumb. A gasp fell from your lips, sending your upper half leaning forward until your forehead rested against his. “Asking a lot from someone you aren’t being very good for.” He chastised you for your behavior despite being the one that caused the problem in the first place.

“M’sorry, my love. S-so sorry.” You rushed out, his fingers brushing against the sweet spot inside you only he knew how to find.

“That’s not what I want to hear sweetheart, and you know it.” His tone was firm, unrelenting as he continued his torment. You let out a groan of frustration, wishing he’d quicken the pace and give you what you wanted, even though you refused to give in to him.

He leaned forward, closing the gap between your mouths as he grew tired of waiting for the words he wanted to hear. He tasted like the whiskey that had been fuelling his poor mood, sweet and bitter all at once as his tongue grazed your bottom lip. You hated how easy it was for him to turn you into a mess, hated how easy it was for him to make you forget you were angry at all. You pulled him closer to you, holding his arm tightly so he would not pull away. You were stubborn, but despite that, you were showing him everything he wanted to see through your actions alone.

You broke from the kiss as a particularly intense wave of euphoria pulled your stomach. Your forehead continued to rest on his, holding you upright as he continued to give you just enough to keep you satisfied.

“Say it, princess.” His voice was low, raspy and laced with desire as he watched you turn into a mess below him. “Tell me you’re all mine. Tell me I’m the only one who can make you feel like this.” Instead, you connected your mouths again, letting a desperate moan out at the same time. He drank in the sound, his cock throbbing as his hips jutted forward into nothing. He was almost more desperate than you were, which only allowed for you to take him less seriously.

“G-gonna have to try harder than that.” You found a peculiar pleasure in leaving him on edge, giving him a taste of his own medicine as he continued to torture both of you at once. ��Show me why I should say it, Freddie. Seems like you’re all t-talk.” You stuttered, tripping over your words as you tried to keep your composure.

He withdrew his hand from you, making you cry out in frustration from the loss of pleasure. Your eyes met his, desperation written all over your face as you protested his actions. Silently, he sunk to his knees between your legs, pulling you to the edge of the table by your hips. He didn’t spare a single glance at your face before his tongue connected with your core, the warm wetness of his tongue even more pleasurable than the rough pad of his thumb.

You laid back on the table, your hands sinking downwards and tangling in the soft locks of hair. Although you were denying him of the statement he wanted to hear, you could not deny that your last argument was wholly untrue. Fred was determined to prove a point, and he was doing it well.

You weren’t far off from an orgasm, his tongue making quick work at pushing you to the edge. The sounds falling from your lips were telling of your current state, and as delirium began to set in, your defenses began to break down.

He suctioned his lips around your clit, adding his fingers to the mix and returning to his earlier pace to torture you further. Every nerve in your body was ablaze with desire, need seeping from every pore as you realized just how badly you needed the release. Sick of the game, you finally broke in fear he would leave you hanging yet again.

“Oh, god.” You gasped, your legs resting over his shoulders in attempt to stop the constant trembling of the lips. “I’m yours, Fred, fuck!” You exclaimed, a sheen layer of sweat forming over your forehead as the knot in your belly began to tighten. “Only you can make me feel this good. Nobody else.” You whined, your fingers tightening on the locks of hair as you began to tug at the strands. You could feel him smiling against you, happy to finally hear you admit the truth.

Pleased with your confessions, he curled his fingers against your g-spot one last time, generously giving you the very thing you’d been pleading for. In a mess, your entire body tensed as the pleasure took hold. The orgasm washed over you, leaving your heart racing against your chest and your head swirling with filthy thoughts for the boy between your legs. A hum of approval let you know he was more than happy with your performance, and he kept his pace until he felt you relax against the table below you.

Once he knew he’d gotten the most out of you, he rose to his feet, towering over you as you laid below him. In the dim moonlight, you could see your orgasm glistening on his chin, only furthering his cockiness as he ran his tongue over his bottom lip so he did not waste a drop of it.

“Always taste so sweet, princess.” He whispered, using one hand to free himself from his pants and his boxers. “And it’s all for me.” He continued, slipping his shirt from his head. He used it to wipe his face clean before tossing it on the floor to join the growing pile of clothes. With shaky hands, you lifted your upper half from the table and pulled your own jumper over your head. “Isn’t that right?” He stepped toward, settling between your legs as his hands ghosted over your bare thighs.

You let out a whimper, his grip landing on your already sore hips as his eyes raked over your entire frame. Your gaze flickered to his cock, hard and aching for relief as he continued to tease you. His fingers tickled your stomach as he trailed his touch upwards, his palm landing flat against your breast as he gave it a gentle squeeze. He let the pad of his thumb brush over your hardened nipple, sending another wave of pleasure through you.

“Answer me, sweetheart.” He wasn’t playing anymore; he wanted to hear the words, and he was done with your obstinacy. He pinched your nipple between his thumb and forefinger,

“Yes,” you huffed, already forgetting the pleasure from your first climax as a whole new wave of need began to take over. “I’m yours, Fred. All yours.” You reiterated your earlier statement, now willing to do whatever he wanted of you to prove the point.

“Tell me how bad you want it.” He shot you a twisted little smile, almost as if he was getting off just from the thought of you begging for him.

“I need it, baby. Need to feel you, please.” You whined, reaching for his arms and pulling him closer. “Want you so bad, Fred. Been waiting all night for it.” You felt the tip of his cock connect with your cunt, his expression faltering as soon as he felt the wetness.

“God, you make it so hard to be upset with you.” He hissed the words through his teeth, using his hand to guide himself through your folds as he sucked in a sharp breath. He settled himself just over your already sensitive clit, pushing his hips forward ever so slightly to apply pressure to the spot. “Sound so pretty when you’re begging to be fucked.”

Slowly, he let his tip run back through your arousal, settling the head just at your entrance. He pushed himself forward, but just barely. You whimpered as you braced yourself for the feeling, only to be let down when he stopped himself from going any further.

“Fred,” you warned, catching his eye so he could see your desperate face. You hoped that if he did, he would stop being such a tease. “Please fuck me.”

“What was that?” He smirked, turning his head slightly so his ear was closer to you. “Didn’t quite catch it.”

“Fred, stop—“ you cut yourself off, letting out a huff of annoyance. You knew chastising him for his actions would only make him less likely to give in, even if it was incredibly hard to hold it back. “I need you to fuck me.” You repeated, clearer and louder in hopes of swaying his decision. “Can’t wait any longer, baby. Please.”

At that, he pushed forward the rest of the way, sending your entire body raising with goosebumps. The stretch as he filled you was exactly what you craved, and as he reached the hilt, his tip brushed against your g-spot so delicately that it almost made you come undone right then and there. Your eyelids grew heavy with satisfaction, focusing on how full you felt with him inside of you, knowing that he for certain would always be the one for you.

“That good enough for you, Princess? This is what you wanted?” He asked, letting himself rest inside you for a moment. He felt your walls flutter around him, pulling him even further and making it harder for him to resist you.

“Mhm,” you hummed, giving him a tired nod of agreement. You could feel him throbbing inside of, desperate for a release just like you had been moments before, but he was still trying to prove his point.

“Nobody else gets to have you like this, sweetheart. You’re mine.” He whispered, now sober from the alcohol but intoxicated by an even stronger, deadlier force; you. “He couldn’t fuck you like this, and you know it.” As he spoke, he withdrew his hips and slammed them forward into you again. The action stole the breath from your lungs, twisting your stomach with pleasure as your nails scratched over his skin.

He began at a pace, slower than normal but the force behind his movements making your head spin. You moaned quietly, lost within the feeling of being so close to him. He never failed to take your breath away, never failed to amaze you with his every move. You were so in love with him it sometimes felt like there was no room within your heart for anyone or anything else.

“Tell me, Y/N.” He ordered, his stare never wavering as he fucked into you. As much as he wanted to succumb to the sensation of you wrapped around him, he found it hard to push the thoughts of your earlier arguments out of his head. “You think he’d fuck you like this? You think he could make you feel this good?”

“No, Freddie.” You gasped, feeling the strength of his thrusts increase, sending the legs of the table wobbling. His fingers tightened on your hips, likely leaving behind angry red marks that would fade into reminders of him for days to come.

“That’s it, Princess.” He panted, his chest heaving as he tried to resist the pull of pleasure. “Don’t you think, not even for a second, that anyone can give you half of what I can.” You both knew this to be fact; nobody in the entire world could ever compare to him. “And why do you think that is?”

“‘C-cause I’m yours,” you managed to stutter out the response, watching him as the statement washed over. He brought his hand to your thigh, your legs wrapped tightly around you as he pulled you back on him with every thrust. His head fell back on his shoulders, the dim light of the room casting a beautiful hue over his already breathtaking features.

“That’s right,” he grunted, slamming his hips forward again. There was a thin layer of sweat sheen on his chest, the toned muscles of his abdomen flexing every time he moved. The exposed columns of his neck made your mouth water, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed back his own groans of pleasure. “Was that why you were mouthing off? You just needed someone to take care of you? Just needed me to fuck you?”

“God, yes.” You moaned, feeling the pressure in your belly begin to reach a peak.

“You gonna cum for me, sweetheart? All over my cock?” He smiled, looking down at you so he could appreciate the view. “Come on now, making a fucking mess of it.”

“Fuck,” you whimpered, his words hitting you hard and causing the tightening knot in your belly to tense even further.

“That’s my pretty girl. Just like that.” He continued to encourage you, studying your expression as pleasure began to twist it.

It didn’t take much more for you to descend into another orgasm, your entire body quivering as you cried out for him, singing his name like a hymn and he was the god in which you prayed to. Your throat was raw, raspy from the constant string of moans passing your lips. You were tired, almost too fucked out to continue on, but he was having none of it. He didn’t slow his pace as you came down from the high, instead speeding up and ensuring that he pulled your entire body down on him as he fucked into you.

“Freddie, please.” You breathed, feeling the threat of overstimulation begin to creep in. He would have had sympathy had he known you couldn’t take it, but he was confident in your ability to keep up with him.

“What’s wrong, Princess? Wanted it so bad and now you can’t handle it?” He asked, his eyes glazed over with lust as he felt himself approaching his own orgasm. You frowned at his words, now on a quest to prove your own point as you tried to ignore the stinging beginning to set in.

“I can t-take it.” You huffed, a shiver running down your spine as he reached upwards and palmed your breast. He gave the supple flesh a gentle squeeze, his eyes closing in bliss as he let himself slip out of the persona he had created.

“Being so good for me—just a bit longer now.” He whispered, his voice far away as his eyes settled over your face once more. “Bloody hell, Y/N.” he groaned, his forehead creasing as his eyebrows furrowed together. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

He slipped his hand between your legs, his thumb landing atop your clit. He traced slow circles, knowing you were a bit further behind him and unwilling to climax without giving you at least one more. He could see how tired you were, but it did not deter him from his commitment to pleasing you.

“I love you, Fred.” You whispered, softened entirely by the sweet look in his eyes. All of his previous anger fled, leaving him just as the boy you’d fallen so hopelessly for.

“I love you, sweetheart.” He hummed, his hips stuttering and his stature faltering. “Give me one more, yeah? I know you can do it.” And he was right, your entire body was ablaze with another orgasm much more powerful than the last two.

“Together?” You gasped, reaching up and settling your palm on his cheek.

“Yeah? You want to cum with me?” He encouraged your train of thought. “Want me to fill that pretty cunt? Really show you who you belong to?”

“Fuck yes, please.” You cried, your fingertips tangling in the locks of hair hanging over his ears. Your walls clenched around him, drawing him in and effortlessly finishing what you had started.

You felt his hips stall, a low growl leaving his lips as he pulled you down on him one last time. He managed to whisper your name as he spilled his release into you, the feeling of him filling you completely sending you spiraling on your own accord. You let out a defeated sigh, the tail end of it turning into a whine as your body went rigid. Your nails scratched at the skin of his arm, your hand on him the only thing keeping you tied to earth instead of floating up and through the clouds.

The both of you rode the high together, euphoria infiltrating every nerve in both of your bodies as he leaned down towards you. Ever so gently, he laid his head on your chest, which was still heaving as you tried to catch up from the lack of oxygen. He placed a plethora of small kisses against the warm skin, his eyes fluttering closed as he appreciated the comfort that came with your company.

Silence hung heavy between you for a few moments, neither of you sure where to go from there. You were still strung out on bliss, barely remembering what got the two of you in the position until he spoke again.

“M’sorry, sweetheart.” His voice barely broke through the room, so timid and shy that you almost missed it completely. “I know you’d never do that. Just got in my head, I s’pose.”

“I… I get it.” You sighed, twisting a lock of his hair. “If I walked in on that, after us being so.. you know. I’d likely feel it too.” You confessed. “I was upset that we had to cancel dinner. I am upset, but not at you.” You tried your best to explain yourself despite exhaustion eating away at your mind. “I’m just upset because I miss you. You’re so busy now, and I’m happy for you, really, but I miss you too.”

“You think I was bloody happy about it?” Fred chuckled, the tip of his fingers tracing shapes into your skin. “I’d much rather be here, with you.” At that, you relaxed completely, understanding that you had gotten too far into your own head. “It’s my favorite place to be. Always has been.”

“Mine too, Fred.” You hummed, smiling softly at the thought.

“I reckon I was a bit jealous, ‘specially at the thought of you and George spending so much time with each other. Would rather it be me, you know, sitting at the shop and laughing with you all night… taking you out for dinner… loving you.” Another gentle kiss was placed to your chest, just before he looked up to meet your eyes. The soft, warm, familiar sight made you feel at ease. He was back to being your Fred, the one you missed all along.

“Darling, you have nothing to be jealous about.” You promised, smiling as he placed a quick peck on your lips. “Though, if it means we get to have brilliant sex like that, by all means do what you have to do.” You explained. “Bloody brilliant, at that.” Without any further words, the two of you descended into a fit of laughter and the clouds that previously hung above your head seemingly cleared in an instant, easily proving to him there was really never a need to worry at all.

[suiana]

Yandere british policeman but its just this https://pin.it/713T0xSDg

(yandere! british policeman x gn! reader) (idk why you want a british man in particular but you know what it's fine) (it could've been worse, like a french man /j)

"right love, gonna need you to open the door and talk to me."

you merely stare at this... random ass man through your peephole. who the hell does this guy think he is? this is the fourth day in a row that he's showed up at your doorstep! for four days, he's delibrately taken time out of his day to show up in front of your door!

hell, he's been following you since way before! trying to pull you over on the road, yelling something about 'pulling over' or telling you to 'freeze'... you suspect it's been about a few months since this random man started showing up in your life like a damn pest.

who the hell even does that?

"go away!"

yeah nah, you're not going to let him in. no way in HELL. plus, he always shows up wearing that same weird outfit! when you first confronted him, he said he was some sort of... officer? and that what he was wearing was a uniform?

hah! imagine having to wear a uniform. he really is just a young chap playing a prank on you. how annoying, that's why you haven't opened the door for him no matter how long he spends knocking away. let him knock, maybe he'll finally get the hint and leave you alone.

"i'm going to have to break down your door if you don't open it, love. you're a person of interest in a really serious crime, you know. it'll be better if you just cooperate with us."

and there he goes again. again with his rambling and nonsense talk of breaking down your door. does he really think he has the authority to do that? nah, you'll just call the police if he does! they'll deal with him like they should!

in fact, you think you'll call the police now! have this guy arrested for harrassing you non-stop!

"if you don't leave, i'll call the police!"

silence.

"so you're scared huh? i knew it! you're just a loser-"

"darling, i am the police."

and then all of a sudden, your door fails to function properly and just falls to the floor, the hinges unhinging on itself. your jaw drops as you face the tall policeman, your eyes wide. but before you could say anything else, he starts talking about his nonsense police stuff again.

"sweetheart i'm putting you under arrest as the prime suspect of a hit and run. please turn around and put your hands against the wall."

"hey wait just a second! i never hit anybody!"

despite your protests, you couldn't really fight against the guy. not when he completely dwarfed you. not when he had huge hands and big pectoral muscles... and that ass in those tight pants... and just seeing him in his uniform... you wonder what would happen if you smacked his ass...?

but back to the problem. hit and run? bro you don't even drive! how could you be a prime suspect of a hit and run? there was only one answer.

"you're a fraud! no way a guy like you is an actual officer! i demand you let go of me until a real-"

then he pulls out an authentic looking police badge and license. no way, he was real? but... but you didn't commit a hit and run! how could this be happening?! no, no, no! get these unsexy handcuffs off!

"you're coming back with me. gonna have to discipline a criminal like you the hard way. not letting me in for four days? tsk tsk, i am so very disappointed in you, love."

wait a second!

just wait a second!

why the heck was he dragging you into a real police car?! no way! this is some big shit! you can't believe this is happening!

"come on dude! you can't seriously be-"

"yeah, you didn't actually commit any crime. i'm just using it as an excuse to bring you back to my home where i can love and adore you."

HUH????

[moonchild9350]

You Can Have Your Cake and Eat It Too

summary: your friends tell you about a brothel that resides in your city, a place to live out your deepest desires.

pairing: sex worker Jeongin x fab!reader

genre: smut-18+ MDNI

word count: 3.0k

warnings: takes place in a brothel so sex work, munch innie lol, overstimulation, edging, pussy job, protected (do) and unprotected sex (don't), removal of condom, creampie, squirting, soft dom reader, soft? sub innie, cum tasting, dirty talk, messy sex lol, brief mention of blood, vocal innie hehe

notes: Innie just looks so innocent in these pics idk just had to write something haha. i hope you like it! (lightly edited)

if you enjoyed, please reblog, comment, and like ♡

please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost this work elsewhere without my permissions. ©moonchild9350 (2025)

General Masterlist

It was the weekend, another exhausting week over and done with. You knew you wanted to unwind this weekend and after talking with your friend, you knew just the activity that would help you relax.

Your friend told you about a brothel in town, filled with men who are waiting to fulfill your every desire, no matter what it is. You were curious about the experience, never having been to one, so you decided to sign up right away.

You loved picking out your prey for the night, explaining what you wanted and how. As the time got closer to your reservation, you decided to get ready, as you bought the perfect outfit.

You slipped on your lingerie, the red a striking color on your skin tone, followed by your mini dress. It hung perfectly on your thighs, your curves accentuated and your breasts perched beautifully showing just enough cleavage. You slipped on your heels and eyed yourself in the mirror, more than satisfied with your look. Grabbing your bag, you made your way to the door, as your ride had just pulled up to your house.

The brothel offered its own transportation, allowing you to arrive in style, and who were you to deny the opportunity to be chauffeured. A sleek, black car awaited you, the driver waiting by the backdoor ready to escort you into the vehicle. You accepted his help and slid in. He closed the door and got back into the drivers seat, putting the car in drive and pulling away from your home.

The ride was short, as the brothel was just downtown, nestled in between two office buildings. To the ordinary passerby, they’d never guess what was going on between the walls of what seemed like another regular office building. You walked over to the receptionist, giving her your name.

Only a second more and her face lit up as she located your reservation.

“You are booked with Jeongin, correct?” She asked, her eyes scanning the computer screen before looking at you for confirmation.

“That’s correct,” you said, giving her a smile.

She nodded her head once and then went back to eyeing the computer screen, her nails click clacking occasionally on the keyboard as she finished checking you in.

After a few moments more she looked up and said, “you’re all set. Jeongin is waiting for you in room 143. I hope you have a great time and if you need anything please don’t hesitate to let us know.”

You followed where she gestured, your heels clicking on the hardwood floor as you made your way down a long hallway. There were doors on either side of the hall, a placard with the room number placed perfectly in the middle. Other than the soft music that played overhead, it was silent.

Arriving at your destination, you took a deep breath before knocking on the door three times. You listened carefully for a response, grasping the door knob and turning when you heard a faint “come in.”

You stepped into the room, your eyes instantly roaming over your surroundings. It was stylish but cozy and not too big. There was a window at the far end of the wall, with sheer curtains pulled across, blocking the outside world from looking in. A couch sat in the corner, fluffy pillows littering every section. Your eyes continued to roam, taking in a bathroom to your right, the lights off except for a mini nightlight in the wall. Finally, your eyes landed on the queen sized bed in the center of the room, outfitted with a white downy comforter, and piles of pillows.

A man got up from the bed, his eyes directed right at you.

“Y/n?” He asked, wanting to confirm the right person was in the room.

“That’s me,” you replied, “and you’re Jeongin?”

He nodded and smiled, little dimples popping up with the gesture. Jeongin was cute, his face chiseled but with a hint of babyish features. His hair was perfectly styled, the strands framing his face haphazardly. He was dressed in all white, his shirt unbuttoned half way to reveal a portion of his chest, the outline of his pecs poking through the gap.

Jeongin was outfitted just how you wanted him, innocent appearing and ready for you to ruin.

“I’m ready for you,” Jeongin replied as he sat on the bed and looked at you in a way that made your pussy clench.

You smirked at his eagerness and sauntered over to him, your heels click clacking on the tile floor.

“Yeah baby?” You cooed as you kneeled on the bed to get closer to him.

He merely nodded his head, his big brown eyes locked on yours. You maneuvered yourself so you were lying on your back, your dress riding up your thighs and teasing him for what was underneath. You spread your legs, displaying your panties that now was sporting a small wet patch to Jeongin.

He eagerly scrambled towards you, spreading your legs as he got comfortable in between them. You sighed as he began to press soft kisses up your thighs, edging closer and closer to your core. Right when he got to the place you needed him most, he switched legs, kissing the flesh there as he stroked your other thigh.

Once he was satisfied, he dragged his lips on your skin until he reached your pelvis, his nose brushing the fabric of your panties. He breathed in your scent, his pupils dilating and cock twitching at your scent. Jeongin pressed his plush lips against your pussy again and again before spitting on the fabric and pressing his tongue flat against your covered entrance before licking up towards your clit.

You let out a low moan as he repeated the motion again and again, teasing you until you were writhing under his grasp.

“Take em off baby,” you cooed.

Jeongin let out a whine before disconnecting his mouth from your pussy. He reached up to grasp the waistband of your panties and dragged them down your legs before tossing them away. He immediately attached himself back to your pussy, his tongue darting out to play with your clit.

You laid there completely relaxed as Jeongin ate you out, as he lazily played with your clit, edging you to the point of tears. His mouth felt so good, your slick continually leaking out of your entrance and onto his face.

As he sucked your clit into his mouth, he shoved two fingers within your warmth and instantly curled them upwards, stimulating your sweet spot and causing you to see stars. You gripped his hair and tugged, moaning at the vibrations his mouth was giving you as he groaned.

His fingers were steadily moving in and out of your pussy, the pressure against your sweet spot causing pleasure to spread throughout your core as his tongue batted at your clit. You were close so you began to thrust your hips in tune with how he was fingering you.

“Ahh gonna come baby!” You squealed as he picked up the pace.

You felt the warmth increase and the coil tighten within your belly, your orgasm threatening to hit at any moment. You took a breath and Jeongin bit at your clit and you let go with a loud moan as he continued to slide his fingers in and out of you while sucking gently at your clit.

You arched your back as he continued to suck, your legs attempting to close at the overstimulation, but finding it difficult to do so as Jeongin held your legs open. He pressed himself further to your pussy, licking up your slick, making sure not to waste a single drop.

“Mmm too much,” you whined as you tugged on his hair attempting to lift his head up, but it was no use as he buried his face even more so he could continue to give attention to your clit.

Without warning, your orgasm hit you once more, lighter this time around but still powerful nonetheless. You whimpered as you let the feeling take over, staring up at the ceiling as stars danced across your vision.

Finally, Jeongin leaned back as he licked his lips, his face shining with your slick. He grinned as he took in your pussy, his eyes landing on your folds soaked with his spit and your cum, to your puffy, swollen clit that was peaking out so perfectly.

You slowly sat up, your hair a mess, and the straps of your dress hanging haphazardly on your shoulders and smirked at Jeongin.

“Lay down for me,” you said shifting so Jeongin could take your spot.

Once he was comfortable, you slid your dress off and crawled towards your lover for the night. Your hands slid up his legs, running gently over the fabric of his pants before reaching his bulge. You gripped him through his pants, smirking as he let out a whine at the pressure you were applying.

“Take it out please, please,” Jeongin whimpered as he pouted at you.

“Should I take out your cock? Do you deserve it though?” You teased back.

Jeongin quickly shook his head, strands of hair falling in his face. “Please?” He asked once more.

You were satisfied with his plea, so you gripped his waistband and dragged his pants down his legs watching as his cock sprung from its confines and nestled against his belly, nice and hard.

Tossing his pants elsewhere, you straddled his legs and nestled your pussy over his length. You began to rock your hips, his cock slotting perfectly between your folds, the tip catching at your clit with each thrust.

The feel of your pussy dragging against his cock was too much, the pleasure he was receiving causing him to let out a groan that rumbled deep within his chest. Jeongin’s eyes went straight to your pussy and his hands on your hips as he helped guide you over his length.

You were wet, your slick coated his cock and aiding in the glide as you fucked yourself over his length. His cock felt good, the vein that ran along his length hitting the right spots as you thrusted your hips.

Jeognin let out a mewl as he bit his lips his eyes snapping to yours. “Gonna come, shit…don’t stop. Please, please, please,” he mumbled, his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

“Yeah? Gonna come? So good for me,” you said breathlessly, as your orgasm was steadily building.

You looked down briefly at where your pussy was gliding effortlessly against his cock and what you saw nearly made you come right there. It was messy, your cream coating his length and the head of his cock was an angry red, drops of precum leaking from the slit. You looked back up at Jeongin, taking in his fucked out state, as his bit his lips so hard, he drew blood, the red droplets smeared across his bottom lip.

With a yelp, you watched as he let go, his cum spurting out onto his belly and your pussy, the white substance adding to the mess that was already present. His release triggered yours, your high hitting you for the third time that night. You continued to thrust against his length, riding out your high as the pleasure slowly simmered away.

You slowed down until you came to a stop as you tried to catch your breath. Jeongin was in no better state, his body glistening with sweat, his pupils dilated and full of lust. You barely registered that he was getting up until you were flat on your back. You stared up at the man above you with wide eyes, surprised at his bust of confidence.

He was still hard and you could tell it was bothering Jeongin as he was desperate to be inside you. You watched as he rolled a condom down his length as it was the rules of the brothel before he brought the head to your entrance and pushed in.

You let out a moan at the stretch, trying to even out your breathing as he continued to sheath himself inside you. Once he bottomed out, he didn’t give you a chance to adjust but instead began to draw his cock in and out of your pussy at a rapid pace.

You were turned on even more as he whined and whimpered, his voice high pitched and strained as he fucked you with force. His eyes trained on your breasts, watching as they bounced up and down with each thrust. He groaned as his hands reached out and gripped them, messaging the flesh and pinching your nipples. You clenched around him as he flicked at the nubs, the sensation of pleasure traveling down to your core.

“Fuck! This pussy oh my god!” Jeongin moaned as his hips slammed into yours.

“Fuck me harder baby,” you moaned as he adjusted himself so he could drive himself deeper within you, so much so you could feel his cock kiss your cervix.

“I’m. Trying.” He said as he punctuated each word with a thrust.

He brought your legs up over his shoulders and leaned down over you. You could feel yourself get even more wet, the evidence present with the sound your pussy made with each drag of his cock within your walls. You were close, the feeling spreading within your belly. You felt your breath increase with each thrust of his hips, as a different sensation started to build. You have only felt this way a few times, most men not able to get you there, but apparently this would be one of those times.

You relaxed further into the pillow as you looked Jeongin in the eyes. His pace increased ever so slightly and you could tell he was close, his groans increasing as he squeezed his eyes shut.

“Na uh baby, don’t you dare come until I do,” you warned, smirking as his eyes snapped open and stared down at you.

“But, I don’t think I can hold it,” he whined as a pained moan left his lips.

“Too bad, make me come and then you can okay?”

Jeongin took a breath and nodded his head in resignation. You smiled up at him and gripped his arms as he fucked you. He angled himself differently one last time, this time his cock dragging against your sweet spot, causing you to mewl out at the sensation.

You felt your orgasm build more steadily, the feeling building until it was right there, slowly spilling, your pussy fluttering around his cock. Jeongin grinned before pressing down on your lower belly, the added pressure causing you to squirt, your fluids threatening to push his cock out of your pussy. However, he just shoved his length harder within you, reveling in your pleasure as you thrashed around beneath him.

Jeongin had made you come and he couldn’t hold off any longer. He withdrew his length causing you to whimper at the sudden loss, before he gripped the condom and pulled it off of his cock. It was against the rules, but rules be damned. He wanted to feel you fully as he filled you up to the brim with his cum.

You gasped as he sheathed himself back within you and fucked you at an inhuman pace, the sound of skin slapping skin filling up the room. You let out whimpers, the overstimulation now to much, however, you just laid there and took his cock, as you slowly found yourself slipping away and succumbing to the pleasure.

“Shh,” Jeongin cooed as he pushed your hair from your sweaty face. “This will be between you and me yeah?”

You nodded in consent, understanding that this would be your little secret. At your admission, Jeongin snapped his hips into yours one last time before stilling, his orgasm hitting him hard as he came deep inside you.

He took a few moments to catch his breath before withdrawing his cock, his cum leaking out of your entrance and down your ass. Jeongin quickly dragged a finger through the fluids before bringing it to his lips, moaning as he tasted the mixture of your arousals.

You laid there exhausted and spent, your body sore and aching from the abuse it had just received. You both were silent as you came back to reality, the only sound was the loud, rapid beating of your heart in your ears.

Finally, you sat up and faced Jeongin who was sitting next to you.

“That was amazing,” you said, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from his eyes.

“Yeah? I’m glad,” he said as he grinned, his cheeks turning a ruddy color at the praise.

“Aww you’re so cute!” You teased as you tried to pinch his cheeks just for him to chuckle and try to evade your advances.

After a while, you both found yourselves lying side by side, your bodies sticky from the mixture of your cum and his and dried sweat. Your mind drifted off to how his mouth felt on your pussy and how he took care of your body like no one else before. You may have to visit him more often. But, you had one night with him now and you weren’t going to waste it.

Getting up, you straddled his body and scooted up to his head.

“Ready for dessert?” You asked as you began to lower your pussy over his mouth.

Jeongin just licked his lips and gripped your hips bringing your core to his tongue.

“Oh!” You squealed as he dug in.

As they say dessert is sometimes the best part of the meal and Jeongin would definitely have to agree.

taglist: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @armystay89 @palindrome969 @slut4hee @ivydoesit23 @amarecerasus @kaysungshine @fun-fanfics @baby-stay92 @velvetmoonlght @possum-playground @katsukis1wife @my-neurodivergent-world @hanniebaeee @hwanghyunjinismybae @channiesrightasscheek

divider by @cafekitsune

[mysunshinetemptress]

I Hate Her

Leah Williamson x Reader

*I Hate Her Universe

Warnings: idk what this is but I’ve re written it five times so…

You and Leah are like oil and water, never mixing, always repelling. she couldn't stand you, and you can't stand her.

Your a second choice, an after thought, Leah thinks to herself unlike her, who's captained the young lionesses countless times.

She's a cocky bitch, a complete and utter asshole, you think to yourself. if you don't fit in her circle you're not good enough and you definetly don't fit.

You've fought against eachother forever for the same position, for the same chance and only once have you unwillingly shared it but with Sarina Wiegman now in charge of th lionesses you have both found yourselfs sharing an awful lot more.

The stale air of the locker room hung heavy, thick with the unspoken rivalry that crackled between you and Leah.

Leah sat at the far end, flicking through her phone searching for songs. Her laughter echoed across the room as she chatted with the other girls, a tight-knit group You'd never quite managed to penetrate. You were relegated to a corner, lacing up your boots quietly.

“Second choice,” the thought echoed in your head, a bitter mantra you’d been repeating since that stupid game at the olympics.

Leah, the golden girl, the darling of the Lionesses. And you? Just… you, always a step behind you thought to yourself as you watched her.

The metallic click of Leah’s boots on the floor punctuated the silence that had fallen after her laughter subsided. She turned, a casual flick of her hair sending a few strands cascading down her shoulder. Her eyes, sharp and assessing, landed on you in your corner. A flicker of something – not quite disdain, but certainly not warmth – crossed her face before she looked away.

You tightened the laces of your boots, knuckles white. The bitterness in your mouth tasted like bile. The Olympics. A tournament you’d both poured your heart and soul into, only for Leah to be the one to get the praise, the one to be plastered across every social media. You’d played your part, you started every game, played the majority of minuted, but it was always, Leah, never you.

A heavy sigh escaped your lips. You had to focus. Sarina’s training sessions were brutal, demanding every ounce of your concentration. Dwelling on Leah wouldn’t help. But it was hard not to when her very presence seemed to fill the room, a constant reminder of everything you weren’t, of everything you stupidly wanted to be.

You stood, stretching your legs, trying to loosen the tension that had settled in your muscles. Your gaze drifted back to Leah. She was now surrounded by a small group of players, their heads bent together in hushed conversation. You caught a glimpse of a shared joke, the eruption of giggles that followed. It was a world you weren’t privy to, a club with a strict membership policy, and you were firmly on the outside.

A sharp whistle pierced the air. Sarina had arrived. The chatter died down, and the team began to gather in the center of the room. As you walked towards the group, you felt Leah’s eyes on you again. This time, there was a hint of something else in her gaze, something you couldn’t quite decipher. It wasn't the usual dismissive glance, but something more… calculating?

The training session was intense, a relentless series of drills and scrimmages designed to push you to your limits. You found yourself paired against Leah more than once, the familiar rivalry igniting a fire within you. You matched her tackle for tackle, pass for pass, determined to prove yourself.

During a brief water break, you stood apart from the main group, catching your breath. You felt a presence beside you and turned to find Leah standing there, a water bottle in her hand.

"You know you're supposed be a professional the least you could do is play like one."

The words hung in the air, sharp and laced with the familiar sting of Leah’s thinly veiled insults. You stared at her, chest heaving from the exertion of the training session, the cool water suddenly feeling like ice in your stomach.

“Excuse me?” you managed, your voice tight.

Leah took a swig from her bottle, her eyes never leaving yours. “Don’t play dumb. You’re always so… hesitant. Like you’re afraid to actually commit.”

A surge of anger, hot and immediate, flared within you. “Hesitant? I’m not hesitant. I’m playing smart.”

“Smart?” Leah scoffed, a flicker of amusement dancing in her eyes. “Or are you just scared of making a mistake? Of looking bad?”

You clenched your fists, nails digging into your palms. “I’m not scared of anything.”

“Then why do you always hold back?” Leah challenged, taking a step closer. “You have the talent. Everyone can see it. But you never fully utilize it. You’re always playing second fiddle.”

The words struck a nerve, hitting too close to the truth. The “second choice” mantra echoed in your head, louder than ever. You wanted to scream, to tell her that she had no idea what you were going through, that her constant jabs were chipping away at your confidence. But you held back, swallowing the lump in your throat.

Instead, you met her gaze, your own eyes hardening. “Maybe I’m just waiting for the right moment.”

A small, almost imperceptible smile played on Leah’s lips. “And when will that be? When Sarina finally benches you for good?”

The whistle blew, signaling the end of the break. Leah turned to rejoin the group, tossing her water bottle to a teammate. As she walked away.

"Second Choice" it was all you would be and as you started the first match of the international break on the bench it felt evermore real.

The bench felt cold, the plastic unforgiving against your thighs. The roar of the crowd was a distant hum, a soundtrack to someone else’s story. You watched the match unfold from the sidelines, your gaze fixed on the field, but your mind was a whirlwind of Leah’s words. Second choice. Hesitant. Scared. They echoed in your head, a relentless chorus.

Every time Leah touched the ball – a precise pass, a commanding tackle, a driving run – the sting of her words intensified. She was everywhere, orchestrating the play, leading the team, basking in the adoration of the crowd. You clenched your jaw, trying to suppress the wave of resentment that threatened to engulf you.

The first half ended with the score still level. As the players trudged off the pitch, Sarina’s gaze swept across the bench, finally landing on you. “Warm up,” she instructed, her voice crisp and businesslike.

The second half began, and you were finally on the pitch. The game was fast-paced and physical, with both teams battling fiercely for control. You threw yourself into every tackle, chased every loose ball, determined to make an impact.

You found yourself in a one-on-one situation with an opposing forward, her eyes locked on the goal. You anticipated her move, intercepting the pass with a clean tackle. The ball bounced to your feet, and you didn't hesitate. You drove forward, weaving through the midfield, your eyes scanning the field for an opening.

You spotted a Hempo making a run down the wing and threaded a perfectly weighted pass through the defense. The crowd erupted as your teammate slotted the ball into the back of the net. The roar was deafening, a wave of pure elation washing over you.

You're exstatic letting out a yell getting ready to embrace the forward only to be stopped by. body crashing into you and pulling you toawrds them in celebration but as fas as it comes its gone.

You stumbled back a step, blinking in surprise, before realizing it was Leah who had collided with you, her arms wrapped tightly around you before shes gone again nearly all the way back beside Mary her head dropped in embarssment.

The fleeting embrace, the briefest moment of physical contact, had sent a jolt of unexpected warmth through you. It was gone as quickly as it came, leaving you slightly disoriented and more than a little confused. Leah’s hasty retreat, her downcast eyes, suggested embarrassment, not camaraderie. The naive hope that this was a turning point, a thawing of the icy relationship, began to crumble.

The post-match atmosphere was a mix of exhaustion and exhilaration. The locker room was abuzz with chatter, players replaying key moments of the game, congratulating each other on the win. You sat quietly in your corner, replaying the assist in your mind, the surge of adrenaline still coursing through your veins. It had been a good play, a crucial contribution to the victory. But the lingering image of Leah’s brief hug, followed by her immediate withdrawal, overshadowed the moment.

Leah was surrounded by her usual group, their laughter echoing across the room. You caught snippets of their conversation – inside jokes, shared memories, a world you weren’t part of. The familiar sting of exclusion pricked at you.

The feeling of Leah's brief hug didn't leave you. It was a phantom sensation, a warmth lingering on your shoulders long after she’d pulled away. You kept replaying the moment in your mind: the sudden impact, the brief pressure of her arms, the almost hesitant way she’d pulled back, her eyes darting downwards.

It's not the only time she finds a reason to touch you briefly, to place her hands on you protectivly especially during training. Leah always finds away to have a hand on you, it send a shiver down your spine every time and everytime you think its a crack in hatred she has towards you she proves you wrong.

Leah’s touches became more frequent, more deliberate, but always followed by a sharp, cutting remark that negated any hint of warmth.

During a drill focused on defensive positioning, Leah’s hand landed squarely on your lower back, guiding you into position. The contact was firm, almost forceful, and sent a shiver down your spine. But as soon as she removed her hand, her lips curled into a sneer. “Honestly, you move like you’ve got lead in your boots. Try keeping up.”

Another time, during a scrimmage, you went in for a tackle, misjudging the timing. Leah, arriving a split second later, collided with you, her shoulder bumping against yours. She steadied you with a hand on your arm, her grip surprisingly tight. For a fleeting moment, her eyes met yours, and you saw a flicker of something that looked almost like concern. But it vanished in an instant, replaced by her usual icy glare. “Clumsy as ever,” she muttered, pulling her arm away as if your touch was contagious. “You’re lucky I was there to stop you from making a complete fool of yourself.”

The pattern was consistent. A touch, a brief moment of physical contact, followed by a verbal jab designed to sting. It was as if Leah was deliberately toying with you, offering a momentary connection only to snatch it away, reminding you of your perceived inferiority.

The physical contact became a source of anxiety. You found yourself tensing up whenever Leah was near, anticipating the inevitable touch and the subsequent insult. You started to avoid being near her as much as possible, a difficult task given your shared position and Sarina’s tendency to pair you together in drills.

One particularly grueling training session pushed you to your breaking point. During a high-intensity scrimmage, you and Leah found yourselves battling for possession near the sideline. You lunged for the ball, stretching your leg as far as it could go. Leah, arriving at the same time, her foot colliding with yours. A sharp pain shot through your ankle, and you cried out, falling to the ground.

Leah immediately crouched beside you, her face etched with concern. “Are you alright?” she asked, her voice surprisingly gentle. She reached out to touch your ankle, her fingers brushing against your skin.

For a moment, the usual tension between you seemed to dissolve. You looked into her eyes and saw genuine worry there. But then, as other players gathered around, her expression hardened. She pulled her hand away, her voice regaining its usual edge. “Honestly,” she scoffed, “it’s always something with you. Can’t you even take a simple tackle?”

The pain in your ankle paled in comparison to the sting of her words. You pushed yourself up, ignoring the throbbing pain, and limped off the field. The concerned look on Leah’s face had vanished, replaced by a mixture of annoyance and disdain. It was clear that any momentary concern she had felt was fleeting, easily overridden by her ingrained dislike for you, and you couldn't help the way your blood boiled because of it.

You sit in the phsyio room, rolling your ankle back and fourth as they assess if you can play in the upcoming fixture agaisnt Sweden. You have to be able to play against Sweden.

The physio gave a tight-lipped nod. "It's a sprain, nothing broken. You'll be sore, but with ice and rest, you should be able to play against Sweden. Just don't overdo it in training."

Relief washed over you. Sweden. It was a crucial match, a chance to prove yourself, to finally silence the nagging voice of self-doubt. You couldn’t let a little sprain keep you off the pitch.

As you stepped out of the physio room, you almost collided with Leah, who was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, her expression unreadable. You froze, a mixture of surprise and apprehension tightening your chest. You hadn't expected her to be there.

"It's not broken." She says looking down at your foot, this weird feeling grows in your stomach as you stare at her.

"Shame, we would have done better without you."

The air crackled between you, thick with unspoken tension. Leah’s words, the feeling you once had is gone before you can even tell what it is.

“Leave me alone” you retorted, trying to mask the confusion swirling within you. But she doesn't she follows you down the hall towards your room.

"To busy trying to prove yourself, trying to prove you're not a second choice."

Leah’s words hung in the air, a cruel echo of your deepest insecurities. You stopped walking, turning to face her, the anger simmering beneath your skin threatening to boil over. “At least I have something to prove,” you retorted, your voice low and dangerous. “You’ve already been handed everything on a silver platter.”

Leah’s eyes flashed, a spark of genuine anger igniting within them. “Handed? I’ve worked just as hard as you, if not harder,” she hissed, taking a step closer. “Don’t you dare minimize my accomplishments.”

“Oh, I’m not minimizing anything,” you countered, meeting her gaze head-on. “You’re talented, I’ll give you that. But you also have the media eating out of the palm of your hand. Every mistake you make is brushed under the rug, while I have to fight tooth and nail for every scrap of recognition.”

Leah scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. “Oh, poor you,” she mocked. “Always the victim. Maybe if you spent less time whining and more time focusing on your game, you wouldn’t be in this position.”

The words were like a slap in the face, a brutal reminder of your perceived shortcomings. You clenched your fists, nails digging into your palms. You wanted to scream, to unleash all the frustration and resentment that had been building up inside you for so long. But you held back, taking a deep breath to compose yourself.

"I'm not in the mood to fight you right now Leah...I-I don't care that i'll never live up to you....I-I don't ever want to be an asshole like you."

A flicker of something – hurt? – crossed Leah’s face, but it was gone so quickly you almost doubted you’d seen it. She turned away, pacing a few steps down the hallway before turning back to face you, only she doesn't say anything she just stares at you as you walk away.

You don't see Leah after that, both of you making the conscious decision to not look let alone run into eachother but you can't avoid eachother forever especially not during a match.

You're starting along side the blonde, it's not the first time its happened (And it won't be the last) but still it sends a weird felling through you.

The pre-match tension was palpable. The roar of the crowd, a sea of yellow and blue, vibrated through the stadium. You stood in the tunnel, the cool air a stark contrast to the nervous sweat prickling your skin. Beside you, Leah stood ramrod straight, her gaze fixed ahead, a picture of focused intensity. You avoided looking at her, your stomach twisting into knots.

As the teams walked onto the pitch, the roar intensified. You took your position, the familiar feel of the grass beneath your boots grounding you slightly. You glanced over at Leah, who was exchanging a few words with a teammate, a small smile playing on her lips. The sight of her relaxed demeanor only amplified your own anxiety.

The opening minutes were a blur of frantic passes and desperate tackles. The Swedish team pressed high, their energy relentless. You found yourself in a tight battle in midfield, trying to win back possession. A stray pass bounced towards you, and you instinctively reached out, controlling the ball with a deft touch. You looked up, searching for a teammate, and saw Medo making a run down the wing. Without thinking, you threaded a perfectly weighted through ball, splitting the Swedish defense. Medo latched onto the pass, her pace taking her clear of the last defender. The stadium held its breath as she took a touch and then, with a powerful strike, slotted the ball past the keeper.

The roar that erupted was deafening. You felt a surge of adrenaline, a wave of pure elation. It was a perfect assist, a testament to your vision and passing ability. You turned to celebrate, a wide grin spreading across your face. Leah, her face flushed with excitement, was running towards you, her arms outstretched.

You turn back ready to reset only to be met with a quick nod of approval from Leah, you nod back your stomach turning as a bubble of anxiety spreads through it.

Sweden push high and fast, everytime you seem to clear the ball they are back knocking on the door, and everytime you come up agaisnt Fridolina Rolfo, she's amazing and you're sure you'll be buzzing about playing against her as soon as the match is over but right now she won't leave you alone.

"Surpried they started you today, you're more of an 88th minute sub." she says shoving you slightly as you push back trying to defend a corner.

It's late in the second half, with the score still 1-0, Sweden launched a desperate attack. A dangerous cross was whipped into the box, and a Swedish forward rose above the defense, heading the ball towards goal. You instinctively threw yourself in front of the shot, blocking it with your chest. The impact winded you, but you managed to clear the ball away.

You crumpled to the ground, gasping for air. The wind had been knocked out of you, and a sharp pain radiated through your chest. You closed your eyes, waiting for the pain to subside.

Frido scoffs "Probably the best save of your career, shame you're still how do you say...second choice."

Frido gets pushed asied quickly after as you curse at yourself for letting it get to you.

Suddenly, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You opened your eyes and saw Leah kneeling beside you, her face etched with concern. “Are you okay?” she asked, her voice laced with worry.

You managed a weak nod, sucking in a breath "Fine." you push yourself up and walk back to your position ready to go again, the faster this restarts the faster its over.

The match is nearly over when it happens , theres nothing you can do but watch your running across coming to close Frido down just outside of the box when Leah appears sliding perfctly to catch the ball as Frido falls just over her.

Leah scrambled to her feet, her eyes flashing with a mix of triumph and adrenaline. She quickly distributed the ball before the ref calls time as Frido shouts for a free and shouts out in swedish with distain.

Your stomach twists again as you catch Leah staring at you as you clap the fans and walk around the pitch before dropping your head and heading down the tunnel.

[ebodebo]

Bite to Break Skin

—hear me out: simon as your new boxing coach…

current warnings: 18+ SMUT MDNI, fem!reader, p in v, mentions of evil nasty men, bad interruptions of boxing lol, cliche as hell, but cutie, boob play, teasing, ghost being a bastard, some fingering, making you be still idk the term, multiple orgasms, & nasty kissing through his mask.

"Goes by Ghost," Mac, the older man who owned the gym you frequented, said, leading you to the back section, where the boxing room was. 

"He's one of the best God-damn soldiers I've ever met, I'll tell you what. Saw him take out some insurgent with just his bare hands," he gruffly laughs out before glancing at your doe-eyed state.

His eyes soften, putting his hand on your shoulder lightly.

"He's a secret softie. He'll take good care of you."

You tightly grip the bag over your other shoulder as he leads you to the room this Ghost guy was in, your nerves getting the better of you. 

Mac grips the handle, but before he pulls on it, he turns to look at you. "He's not so good at casual conversation. Might be a little blunt, but most vets are. Just try to have fun, okay?" 

You nod meekly as he pulls the door open for you to step inside, closing it behind you as you fully step inside.

The room is dimly lit, with the only source of light coming from a few small windows high up on the wall.

You are in a relatively small room with punching bags, speedballs, and jump ropes neatly hung on the wall.

"You the new girl?" A deep, English voice boomed around the room in an echo.

You turn around quickly to be met with just about the hottest guy you've ever seen. 

He was tall, with a muscular build.

He wore a plain white t-shirt, dark gray sweatpants, a simple black Manchester United football cap, and a simple black mask covering his face's lower half.

"I—yes. I am," you stutter out, feeling a sudden surge of nervousness.

"Got gloves?" He gruffly questions, grabbing some focus mitts for himself and slipping off his cap.

"Yeah," you sputter, moving to set your duffle bag down to fumble through it before pulling out a pair of bright pink boxing gloves.

"Cute," he hums lowly as he sees you slip the neon gloves on, nearing back towards him.

You feel your face warm at his, granted dry compliment, but a compliment nonetheless. "Thanks," you murmur, now standing in front of him.

"Let's work on your stance." He demonstrates a broad, balanced stance. "A good stance gives you more power and speed."

"What if my stance isn't wide enough?" You question, awkwardly mimicking him, feeling out of your element. 

"You get socked," he says casually. "Widen your legs."

Oh. Oh no.

There was no flirty undertone whatsoever, though you couldn't help how your stomach fluttered at the ask. 

How the hell were you going to be able to work with him? 

"If you were to break like that," his voice is low, distinctly gravelly.

"Out there," he raises his hand to point out the window. 

"You're gettin' your ass handed to you." 

You nod lightly, inhaling a deep breath, determined to clear your mind and focus on the task.

"Focus," he rasps as you adjust your stance to widen your legs.

"Good. Now throw a jab," he orders, his eyes narrowing.

You raise a brow in confusion. "At what?"

"The air," he monotonously says, raising one of his brows. 

You turn to look over your shoulder. "The bag is right there?"

He lets out an irritated sigh. "And if I wanted you to punch the bag, I would have said so," he mutters in a sharp, caustic tone. 

"Just throw a punch."

You tentatively throw a jab, feeling an odd sense of adrenaline. 

"Rotate your hips," he commands. "Generates power."

You nod, throwing yet another jab, this time with a confident hip rotation, making your punch faster and more powerful. 

"Good girl," he gruffs. "Let's get you to practice your cross."

You spent the next thirty minutes or so reviewing various punch and foot techniques and only slightly googling him, growing increasingly impatient.

Hell, you didn't think you would be doing hard combat at the first go around, but you thought you'd be doing something a helluva bit more interesting than just punching some guys' hands. 

"Is this all this session is going to be?" You grunt out, laying a punch to his mitt. "Punching your hand."

There's a flicker of amusement in his eyes before he shakes his head from side to side. "You're not ready for more."

"Come on," you probe with a sly tone. "The whole point of this is so I learn self-protection. Some guy in an alley could try to rob me. I should learn something more practical."

He narrows his eyes at you before taking a breath. "Fine."

"Wait, really?" You ask with perplexity.

He shrugs. "You want practical? I'll give you practical."

You nod your head because hell yeah.

He's finally going to teach you something you can actually use.

"Block me," he mumbles, tossing his focus mitts to the side.

You let out a dry laugh. "I can't block you."

"Thought you wanted to learn more self-protection?" He clicks his tongue.

"Well, yeah...but I can't take you," you cross over your chest.

He lets out an arid chuckle.

"Sweetheart," he begins. "Most men that prey on women are built; they prey on women because they think they're weak. An easy target."

Your eyes shift to the ground, looking at the dark blue rubber flooring you stand on. 

"How bout' we show them you're not?" He tips his head towards you.

You bite your bottom lip in between your teeth until you taste a coppery liquid coat your tongue.

"Well?" He urges, crossing his arms over his chest. 

You glance up at him, inhaling a deep puff of air, before nodding your head and issuing a crisp, 'Fine.'

He gives you a curt nod, flexing his hands. "Gloves up."

"Don't take it easy on me," you say, raising your hands to assume a blocking position. 

He raises his hands. "Wasn't going to."

You puff out a breath, feeling confident despite your little training.

He threw a jab, precise and fast, to your left side.

You could feel the rush of air as his fist sliced through the space, the sound of his knuckles cutting the silence. 

You raised your arm to block it, but his punch was just a feint, and he quickly followed it up with a cross.

You tried blocking the cross, but his punch was too strong. 

His blow sent you stumbling backward, but you refused to give in, your arms flailing wildly to try and find balance, though to no avail.

As you fell, Ghost tried to grab you, but his own feet got tangled in ropes, and together, you both hit the mat, his hand extending out to rest beside you before his body weight fell on you. 

You both just lay there, panting and tangled.

Your nails dig into the flooring beneath you to suppress your nerves and the hoard of butterflies swarming in your stomach.

He has yet to look at you, his eyes wandering about the flooring as he catches his breath.

His eyes flick to yours already on him. 

"What?" He almost spits, the tension in his voice palpable.

"You—you have pretty eyes," you sputter out, your vulnerability laid bare.

There's a beat of silence.

With your eyes still locked on his, the air thickens, building an intense anticipation.

Until his masked lips, a tempting mystery, dip down and consume your lips in a passionate kiss.

You can feel the outline of his lips on yours, a tangible connection as you reciprocate the ferry kiss with equal fervor. 

Your skin is sizzling.

You're sure if someone took a match to your skin, you would be set ablaze. 

All you can hear is your own heartbeat as he pants through the mask, lips feverishly sucking on yours through the fabric. 

His fingers fumble with the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head desperately as you throw your gloves off to the side.

"Christ," he mutters into your lips as he gropes your breast through your bra. 

You let out a whine at the contact, placing your hand over his, pawing at your breast, holding it tightly so he doesn't move it. 

His hand squeezes your covered breast before his fingers skim down to the band of your bra, slipping his pointer under to skim your sensitive nipple.

Your mouth hangs agape as his fingers prod the sensitive bud, flicking it and moving it against the rough pad of his finger. 

"Sensitive one," he tuts, taking his finger out and instead reaching to unclasp your bra, letting your breasts pour out freely. 

His coarse hand wastes no time fondling your bare breast, pointer, and thumb, going back to roll your nipple between the two fingers. 

You squirm under his touch, equal parts aroused and impatient. 

"You're impatient," he observes, his fingers still tweaking your nipple.

"I just—need you," your voice is already strained. "Can't wait."

The corners of his eyes crinkle, insinuating a smile—what a bastard.

"Oh," he hums in a condescending tone. "Thought you were going to be a patient girl," his finger skims down to the waistband of your pants before he pulls it away. "Was I mistaken?"

"No—no. I can be...patient," you force out, already mourning the contact.

"You sure?" He questions, his tone low and sultry. 

"Because only patient girls get to come."

You release an anguished moan at his words, issuing a hurried, breathless 'Yes.'

"You gonna be a good girl and let me play with you?" He brings his hand back to skim over your stomach.

Your eyes flick to his, full of irritation.

"I said yes," you say through gritted teeth.

He dips his head forward, eyes narrowing at your tone. 

"You're still impatient," his tone is low as he pulls his hand away again.

You shake your head from side to side, looking up at him with pleading eyes. "I—no. I can be patient."

His eyes glaze over your face—sincerity apparent in your eyes. 

He hums in acknowledgment, bringing his hand back to skim the warmth of your body. 

"Fuckin' perfect," he mutters under his breath as he drops to his knees so one of your legs is in between them.

His fingers move to dip under the waistband of your pants before gripping either side and slipping them down over your thighs.

He eyes the fresh wet spot on your underwear, reaching out to touch it with a finger. 

You let out a whine as your body thrusts forward at his touch.

His eyes snap back to yours in warning.

As his fingers rub easily over the fabric, you sink back into the floor. You suck in a breath, fingers balling into a fist as you close your eyes.

"None of that," he gruffs, gripping the sides of your underwear and slipping them off smoothly. "Open."

Your eyes snapped open to meet his dark ones, peering at you.

"Good girl," he praises, his pointer rubbing over your slit that was already coated with your arousal. "You're soaked, Sweetheart."

You hold a whine in your throat as his finger moves to swirl inside you.

He begins pulsing his finger inside you, prodding against your sensitive clit. 

You remain still as his finger moves against you, only moving your mouth to let out an occasional whiney moan. 

"Look at you," he coos. "Bein' so good for me."

His finger picks up pace, moving against your clit with much pace.

"Can you take more?" He grunts out.

You hastily nod your head—aching with the need for relief. 

When he adds his middle finger into the mix, you swear you see heaven—or something very near.

He's panting as his fingers move inside you with urgency, as you let out breathless wails and feel your lower stomach start to tighten.

"I'm gonna—come," you whine, head throwing back as you squeeze your eyes shut.

"Can tell. Squeezin' my fingers so tight," he groans.

It only takes a couple more pumps of his fingers for you to come undone.

Crying out in relief, chest heaving, legs shaking.

His name falls off your tongue as you come from his fingers.

Talk about a wet dream come to life.

You're still panting, coming down from your high, as Ghost reaches for the waistband of his sweatpants and underwear, tugging them down to unveil his painfully erect cock, the tip already leaking some pre-come.

"I won't last too long," you sputter with equal parts anticipation and excitement as he gives his cock a nice tug, hissing a little at the contact.

"Oh, trust me," he wheezes. "Me neither."

"But I need to feel you."

You feel your face warm, your stomach tighten, and your throat dry.

All of a sudden, you're aroused despite having just came.

He positions himself to line up against your entrance, eyes locking on yours. "Ready?"

You nod, gripping his shoulders tightly. "Ready," you affirm.

He pushes his cock into your already-soaked entrance with ease, grousing as his teeth clench.

"Shit. You're tight, Baby," he mumbles, pushing himself into you deeper—still not moving the entirety of his cock in. 

"Sorry," you murmur breathlessly.

"Don't apologize," he says instantaneously, hand moving to rest on the nape of your neck. "Feels fuckin' good."

Your eyes glint at the compliment, though squeeze shut as he starts pumping in and out of—feeling so full, yet empty.

"Need—need more," your voice is coarse. "Put it all in."

His eyes widen slightly. "You sure you can handle it all?"

You hiss out a breath. "I can."

He nods, pushing the rest of his cock inside you.

Your head falls back, mouth opening to make noise before he bends down to capture all the wines he elicits that slip through your lips. 

His mask is soaked.

You can feel the wet fabric against your damp skin. 

It's hot. Really hot. 

You could probably get off to just making out with him. 

The outline of his tongue moves under the mask to trace the outline of your teeth, fabric lightly snagging on them.

You groan into his mouth as you're wildly sucking at the fabric, franticly seeking his tongue and lips. 

"Fuck, Baby," he curses, his pace picking up. 

"You're so good—so good."

You moan into his mouth, mouth hanging open over his masked one, as you feel yet another orgasm approaching.

"I know—I know," he murmurs before you say anything.

He can feel you.

You press your mouth back to his, your tongue coming out to push through the fabric before you tighten around him.

He lets out a gravelly moan as he feels you come, gripping you tighter as he comes himself. 

He lets his forehead fall against yours as both your chests rise and fall almost simultaneously.

A curse falls from his lips as he pulls out of you, easing his underwear and sweatpants back up.

His eyes lock to yours. "Need help?" He asks with sincerity.

Your lip quips, shaking your head. "I can manage."

You pull your pants up, only slightly hissing, before gripping your shirt and pulling over your head.

He helps you to your feet, reaching down to grab your bra.

You shoo his hand away. "Keep it."

His eyes narrow as he smiles under his mask.

Grabbing your duffle bag, you sling it over your shoulder, shoving your gloves in it. 

"That was great—really great, but what if someone does try something?" You ask, your concern evident in your tone.

"Don't need to worry about that," he simply says, crossing his arms over his chest. 

"What? But what if—" You begin before he interrupts. 

"Just...listen to me. Yeah?" He murmurs. 

You narrow your eyes before your eyes soften up. "Yeah. Okay, okay."

"Come back tomorrow. Show you some new moves," he shrugs. 

"Similar to today, yes?" You cheekily ask. 

He lets out a dry laugh. "If you want."

"Can't wait," you chirp. "See you."

He gives a curt nod as you approach the door. You offer him a bright smile as you turn back, pushing the door open with purpose.

Stepping outside, you leave him to reflect on your interaction, giving him time to reminisce about the encounter for the next twenty-four hours until he feels you again.

You still wanted to learn how to protect yourself independently, but it didn't hurt that you had unexpectedly attained your very own guard dog, who wasn't scared to draw blood.

Just give him the command. 

a/n: i can’t believe i haven’t done this before...we also don't need to talk about the logistics of this, okay?

divider!

reblogs & comments are encouraged!

[tmmyhug]

i know its 2 am and no i havent seen dreams recent video but i wanted to talk a little about this screenshot and how telling it is, bc its been on my mind all day

note that i have not seen the stream this was from but i think this on its own tells enough of a story. dream showed this as part of his stream defending himself and airing out how he thinks tommy has wronged him (among other things).

I do think 16yos and 21yos can have positive and healthy friendships. but this is blatantly.. not that. this is not a healthy way for an adult to be speaking to a teenager. even if the adult is hurt by something the teenager did. heck, this is barely a healthy way for two people of the same age to speak to each other. this is guilt tripping, passive aggression, self victimization, just generally self centered and manipulative language.

and the fact that dream thinks showing this is in is favor is extremely telling! because he doesn't realize what this is. dream thinks this is a positive example of him being open about his feelings with tommy.

dream showing this means he has no concept of the dynamics at play here. he was a massive content creator with a following 10x the size of tommys. (idk when exactly this was but tommy hit 1 mil in sept 2020, when dream had 10 mil). he was a grown adult and tommy was a teenager. more than that, tommy adored him and looked up to him almost to a hero-worship level. any sort of friendship that grows in a dynamic like that must be predicated on the adult being aware of the power imbalance and self-conscious and mature enough to not take advantage of it. dream failed miserably at all of that.

toxic people don't usually realize they're toxic. dream showing this screenshot shows either that a) he thinks his own audience are dumb enough to see this as a point in his defense (which, well-) or b) he is so monumentally moronic to still have no inkling of how much power he held/holds in a social dynamic, esp over someone like tommy at that time. he thinks treating tommy as an emotional peer, someone he can dump his feelings on, someone he depends on for self worth and validation, is a good thing, when actually they're all massive red flags.

that's why he thinks this is a screenshot in his favor. that's why he thinks he's in the right and tommy has stabbed him in the back. dream is viewing this entire situation through a lens so incompatible with what actually happened that it's impossible for him to understand why people are mad at him. maybe he has some idea that he behaved badly, but he is so mired in his own inflated ego, denial, and manipulation that he will never ever come to terms with it.

at least, that's what he pretends.

[yoru-exe]

KINICH ࣪ ִֶָ ⋆ . heart eyes

kinich isn't sure if he should be embarrassed about it, but if he's being honest, he thinks more than he feels. dealing with emotions has never been his strong suit. so when his system acted funny when he laid eyes on you — a total warrior-stranger at the stadium — it took a very long time for him to understand why he felt so.

when his heart refuses to cooperate, he relies on his wit, like he always does. he couldn't put his finger to his emotion yet, but he knows exactly what to do to something precious — he protects it, like the parcels his clients often entrust him with. so he starts to play the protector role whenever he teams up with you for assignments given by the archon. he look forward to those opportunities much more than he's willing to admit though.

for someone who preaches about allocating a specific amount of energy for task execution, seeing kinich giving extra effort into it sure raises some brows, of which his pixelated companion specifically wouldn't shut up about.

"are you planning to die sooner? that's why you wield your weapon even when i, almighty dragonlord, k'uhul ajaw is up here above all?", his evil laughter boomed in the sky, though fallen on the saurian hunter' deaf ears.

"just shut up and and clear this mess quickly. not like you're doing much anyway". he easily slashed away at an enemy, while ajaw fired is dragon breathe in annoyance, "how dare you!".

the battle ended much faster with them working together. while he didn't want to make it a habit for ajaw to think that he can sit back while he does the hard work, he definitely wanted you to feel so.

"thanks, but i can protect myself, you know."

"i know, but i still want to protect you".

kinich swore he saw your cheek turned reddish. did the heat bother you? it sure was quite sunny that day. before he could ask if you're feeling alright, you quickly moved to inspect the wound on his forearm, so he couldn't see your face anymore. but he's not one to oppose, so he left your to it.

it was a mission that the two of you embarked on a particularly long journey. throughout the travel, he got to know more about you, and each time you open your mouth to speak, he paid close attention to each word you said as if they were magical and he's enchanted.

then, by the time the mission completed, you arrived at a point that's closer to the scions of the canopy, so you expected to walk yourself home on your own. to your surprise, kinich had another plan.

"i'll take you home. do you have everything you need? we can rest first if you'd like to".

it took you a little while to process his action before responding, "but you'll have to circle back to your tribe. mine is still further ahead. you don't have to trouble yourself-".

"i don't mind".

kinich isn't a man of word, but his action speaks so loud that while he's still trying to figure out the emotion he feels towards you, you had already feeling the same for him.

⊹₊ author's note ₊⊹

i mean, idk, this idea randomly came to me while i was doing laundry of all thing. love at first sight kinich sounds kinda ooc imo? but i kinda like how this one goes sooo

[arsonanarchyandanxiety]

I like the idea of Percy as the lifesaver lifeguard etc but like. I think Nico really does Just Chill people are like "Oh so what's he do" "idk whatever he wants" (usually he's in the infirmary because he got hurt "on accident" *cough* he's there for will *cough* again or playing his dorky little games) (I think he would try to help out here and there but most campers are afraid of him so he just kinda. Gives up) ((his attempts at giving up are thwarted by percy and will who insist he help them when they notice he's kinda distancing again))

Why do I feel like every cabin has a really big purpose in camp, e.g. hephestus for the swords, athena for strategy, apollo for archery except from the big 3? Like, Leo's always off making something, Will's always in the infirmary, and Annabeth's always practising, but Nico and Percy just kinda walk around without any purpose.

[lesbianherald]

Hi! Just curious. What exactly is that you didn't like about Viktor's arc? I've seen a few people saying the same thing and idk if I'm missing something or I'm just too over the moon about him that my brain has gone smooth haha.

oh no oh no i'm probably going to write like a whole dissertation about this I am so sorry I'm literally cracking my knuckles I have so many thoughts and not all of them I'll even get to articulate here.

Saying this upfront: you aren't smooth-brained for disagreeing with me or liking it. I want to say that outright as I'm a very opinionated person and I am going to state my very strong opinions very plainly.

That being said : I genuinely feel like season 2 needed like... character writing 101 for a lot of these characters, especially the two characters whose names start with a 'V'. I'm so serious if one of my students brought in a story like this, I would (gently) take it apart.

If you don't want to read the whole thing I'm about to unleash, the crux of it is this for me:

Throughout the course of the season, it's very hard to discern how many of Viktor's decisions are his own. He lacks the baseline autonomy that's necessary for satisfying development. The magic of the hexcore becomes a shiny distraction that makes meaningful development impossible. Additionally, season 2 forgets so many of the themes and threads they explored with Viktor in season one explicitly in terms of class and his position on war and weapons manufacturing.

And, like almost everything in season 2, these issues are compounded because his story is done at a pace that's completely lightning-fast and prioritizes the wrong things.

Here's my thesis:

How Does a Man Like Viktor Become the Machine Herald? Arcane's Answer: Magic orb or vague sadness or something idk.

Harry Lloyd said in a season 1 commentary somewhere that one of the main appeals for Viktor is knowing who he is in the game and wondering how you take a man like him, who is so kind and has people's best interests at heart, and see him slowly become the machine herald.

I agree 100% that this is part of the story's appeal for players. And it would be a delight and surprise for non-players.

We... get that very juicy premise ripped from us. We don't see him making decisions grounded in the character they set up in season 1 at all, really. And its very unsatisfying seeing him be rendered a mere victim of circumstance with vague attachments to his past self.

This is not necessarily a complaint about arcane herald vs machine herald (I did not play league and am not attached to the lore) but a complaint that a lot of what happens with Viktor in season 2 seems very unattached to his psychology.

Christian Linke himself said (and I forget where, so I am sorry if I'm paraphrasing terribly) that part of the question he wanted the audience to ask with Viktor is how much of this is really him? Bluntly. That is incredibly silly. It's such an important question that it makes all other interesting questions one might have about him really hard to parse.

That's not compelling. That's a mistake. That's not rooted in character anymore but a vague magical orb.

Here are some questions that would have been more interesting for us to ask, Christian.

How does his desire to tamper out human emotion prompt him to do the unspeakable? What leads him there?

How far is he willing to go to take away human pain and suffering?

Is his version of pacifism really, in actuality, a form of violence?

Will his connection with others be enough to bring him back to his humanity? (this is a question we were not prompted to ask, and if we were, it would have made the final scene (which I love regardless) a lot more satisfying.

What is the root of his hunger for power? How much of his quest is a hunger for power and control over others (rooted in a fractured and tragic sense of self)? and how much is it rooted in his desire to help? Where is that line?

Any of these questions or any other questions we could enjoy exploring with Viktor become tampered with and weakened by the fact that a vague magical entity is controlling him in a vague and unrelatable way.

In short, 'How much of Viktor is still Viktor?' is a far less interesting question than. 'how is Viktor going to act, change, and learn? ' We are forced to ask the first at the cost of the second. He clearly is not fully himself this season.

The Dropping of Themes and Traits

Season 1's exploration of Viktor was multi-layered and fascinating. I feel like we got to see the establishment of a kind-hearted, sometimes awkward yet quite funny, passionate scientist.

I don't feel we see much of any of this in season 2. The stupid fucking orb overrides a lot of the traits we've come to know and love. This would have been cool if done with an ounce of care, understanding, or autonomy.

In season 1, we see Viktor in a position of powerlessness over and over. We see Viktor ignored and looked down upon by those in power both for his disability and, crucially, for his status as a Zaunite.

We're introduced to him as someone who is desperate to prove himself and carve a place for himself. He knows he's brilliant. And he knows he can help people with that big brain of his. That's all he wants. And he wants to make his mark (something I theorize is rooted in his loneliness as well as his ambition)

(Side note: I find a lot of the debate on whether or not Viktor is insecure a little silly because you can be both confident and insecure. He's incredibly secure in his abilities as a scientist, but I fully do believe he places all his worth on his work because he's not as confident in other places - represented visually by him trying to point out his boat when Sky is looking at him in the flashback. A 'don't look at me look at what I've made' type thing.)

Anyways. Viktor is willing to risk his position as an assistant and, honestly, his position at the academy and in Piltover as a whole to help Jayce. This is not just because he's 'lol so chaotic' or whatever. This is actually quite calculated. He knows he will get nowhere in Piltovian society without bending rules, because Piltover was not built for people like him.

"Do you think it was my life's ambition to be an assistant?"

But even in taking that huge step for himself, his new role is complicated.

We see him sit through meetings where his people are talked about like burdens. We see his closest (and honestly only) ally and partner speak over him in meetings and overrule his desires and wants when it comes to the future of hextech in massive ways. We see Jayce call all Zaunites 'dangerous' (I love jayce... don't shoot me please. But we do often forget that this does canonically happen and what makes Jayce so incredible is that he grows from this point)

The moment on the bridge directly causes him not to tell Jayce about what he's doing to himself. Jayce apologizing right after doesn't matter so much as it reinforces one of Viktor's fears: he is alone.

We see his illness, !!!!caused by Piltover's oppression!!!!, take over. We see him and Jayce grow apart. We see the way his loneliness impacts his desperation and the way his desperation impacts his loneliness and we see the way he's so damn afraid and just wants to live. We see how much he wants to help people, and how even though he's tried so hard he never got to achieve that because the limits of this society just don't allow for it.

Season 1 Act one is Viktor taking action for himself. season 1 Acts 2 and 3 are a brutal reminder that no matter how hard he works. No matter how hard he claws. He will always be who he is. And that makes him Powerless in this society. I honestly find it a really compelling storyline in terms of the 'bootstrap theory' and debunking that - but a different topic for a different time!

At the end of the season, he's able to gain a huge amount of power - speaking at the council about freeing his city - through Jayce's platforming and allyship. But at the end of the day it doesn't matter, because what the council is doing is too little too late - people in Zaun are too tired and too hurt - and he gets caught in the crossfire.

Despite all this, Season 2 does not engage with Viktor's being a Zaunite outside of the fact that he returns to Zaun first. But the themes explored related to class and power are gone - as they are with everyone else really.

It makes sense to me that one of the first things Viktor would do when granted a new body and new power would be to go and try to help people in Zaun, but the ambiguous mechanisms of the magic inside him, the immediate divorce with Jayce, and the bizarre way he goes about it don't make this land.

And even the return is rendered sort of meaningless. Where is the personal connection to this place? Why are we given no details related to his past here? Why doesn't he return to somewhere more personal for him?

He speaks in this cold, unaffected monotone. This healing ability seems to be the 'recursive impulse' - so him finally getting to help people just like he wanted feels rooted so much in the arcane influence it becomes murky and strange.

This is more nitpicky, and I'd be okay with it being ignored in the right context - but another aspect of his character that gets dropped is his work as a scientist. His desire to help people not through magic, but through invention. This would have been fascinating. (They try to keep this alive through vague allusions to 'look at what I've created' blah blah but again, so much of it is all ORB)

What inventions would a fully autonomous Viktor who decided to leave Jayce and return to Zaun of his own fruition create? Would they toe the line between inventions of progress and inventions of destruction?

Guess we'll never know!

Speaking of weapons. Let's talk about weapons. Let's talk about Viktor's vehement opposition to weapons not being explored within the context of his relationship with Jayce or outside of the rule that there are none allowed in the commune - which becomes quite meaningless when he agrees to work with Ambessa. Yes - he saw those blueprints on the table. But that's all we get.

Also, the fact that Jayce just unquestionably builds hextech weapons in the finale, and they're used as a good thing and a way to fight off Noxus, makes me want to claw my own hair out. Like - my themes ! Not my precious themes !

Let's also talk about him working with Ambessa. There's no build-up to that decision, not near enough character work to make that believable and considering the way the plot is written elsewhere, I fully believe this is a huge part of the problem of the writer's room dropping the issue of class. The idea that Viktor, the character that they set up, would ever willingly work with Ambessa is laughable. There are so many other ways he could have gotten to the hexcore in his fully evolved form, easily bested Jayce, and evolved. And they did absolutely nothing in the writing of season 2 to make that an interesting or satisfying choice.

An arc is only an arc if there is substance between point a and b. There's no substance here. There's vague orb. There are little glimpses of the pain he's in because of his separation from Jayce. Teeny tiny allusions to him trying to shut down his emotions. That's simply not enough.

You cannot bring a character who values choice and autonomy, whose been made to feel so powerless and is empathetic, to "choice is meaningless" without a deep study of his psychology and pain. Viktor taking away the autonomy of others, inhabiting their bodies. Being super chill with it. Okay. Coo.

Where does his desire for evolution even come from? For real? Because they seem to mistake Viktor's ambition with his desire for perfection, which is something that was never really... brought up? It could be believable that he felt this way. But where were the signs of this? Not just in season 1 but in season 2. He always wanted to help, not make humanity perfect. Because this is grounded in so little emotional logic I assume we're supposed to be satisfied with the idea that magic orb + machine herald form = ??? this ??? like ??? why???

If he wants to create a world where nobody can feel pain or complex emotions of any sort anymore, which is not psychologically where he was at the end of season 1 at all despite all he went through, you have to give us an event (ideally multiple) in season 2 that could break his mind this badly. Jayce killing him could have been this, but it happened so fast and was executed so impersonally that it doesn't work. He doesn't really acknowledge it happened the next time they see each other. Which... would probably be important to do... again emotional logic where?

His entire speech about humanity at the end of episode 6 feels like it's trying to be a catalyst. But it also feels... incredibly generic and impersonal. It felt written to play over a flashy montage of all the other characters fighting. Not for Viktor. If this was Viktor's moment where he finally snaps, we should probably focus on Viktor. And, of course, it doesn't help that he has this odd monotone this whole time, as if he's not fully in control of himself (this is not a rip on Harry Lloyd at all. He did what he was told and did it very, very well.)

Because remember. They wanted us to ask this. They wanted us to ask how much of this was orb. I think because they knew on some level they could not create a compelling enough story to get viktor where they wanted him to be for some reason without orb. That none of this would make sense without the vague spice of the arcane. And guess what it still doesn't.

Becuase people will not relate to a vague arcane influence. Connect to it. We would want to see what actually in his life made him become this. What in his psychology outside of magic orb made him do this? They provide vague tastes of this in the same way La Croix flavors its drinks.

Brought Back Wrong Can Work: Here's Why This One Didn't

I also really hate the trope of killing off characters only to bring them back. And back again. And... again. Because guess what. It takes one of the core elements of the human experience - death- and cheapens it. This for sure happens with Viktor the second time he dies.

But what i do like about bringing someone back from the dead is when you consider how doing so can bring someone back wrong. Or changed.

But because the orb is so impersonal. So bland. Such a vague sinister force that has very little to do with character, it doesn't... work. It doesn't hit. Viktor doesn't really grapple with being brought back from the dead against his will in a meaningful way.

Timing

You can see concepts of a plan, if you will, within this story. I can see how Viktor would naturally go to the undercity after waking up changed with new healing powers. But it happens way to fast. So bizarrely. I can see how he would build a society like this (of course, the power of that is dulled because orb and by the fact that we don't see it happen). I can see how the pain of being rejected and left behind by the only person who made him feel like he wasn't alone (Jayce) could have lead to a category 5 'make me evil' sort of meltdown.

Becoming the Herald, asking Singed to begin the transformation, is the only true time in this show in act 2 (before his final moments) where it feels like he's making a choice for himself. But again, we get so little time with him. To see his emotions. To elegantly point from that moment with Jayce to Viktor's need to transform and in doing so rid himself of emotion (something that they did not expand on enough ) Like oh my god, how much more satisfying would it have been to see Viktor torn apart by his own emotions - in his own viktor way - and to have singed offer him a way out of his pain - and then have viktor take it. There are certain things that should be obvious.

But It's both the timing of and the structure of the story - how quickly we cut between plotlines - that makes this really hard to follow. That makes moments that could be something feel rushed and sloppy.

Let's Talk about Sky

Viktor's guilt over sky was absolutely reasonable to explore, but it was not.... all that haunted him. To make Sky the sole guide/companion to him in the astral/arcane headspace I found to be a bizarre and honestly kind of offensive choice.

Amanda overton said she was used as a "Jayce substitute" essentially. And... why? Literally why. Why would you write a character whose sole deal is having an unrequited crush on a man only to bring her back to be 'the embodiment of his guilt and loneliness' as well as a 'substitute' - it feels... icky to me? Just in a writing women and especially women of color point of view? And it didn't feel true to Viktor's character either.

I think if we actually got to know sky better in season 1, this would have worked because it would have been obvious how different she was, how she was a product of his mind or the hexcore or whatever (the lore being vague here doesn't help...)

Plot Twist because I keep hating on Orb: They Could Have Made The Orb Really Cool

Here's the thing. Magic influence on its own can be used to write extremely compelling plots. Walk with me.

Imagine Viktor wakes up. Immediately knows something's wrong with him. That something inside him is toying with him. Making him see things (visions of not only sky, but maybe his parents, Jayce, Heimer). He wakes up earlier in act 1. Despite his anger, he stays with jayce in order to better understand himself and his powers. All the while, he is haunted by whispers and visions of the hexcore. What if it whispers to him of his own insecurities and failures?

What if Things with Jayce are tense. Jayce has to admit to making weapons again, in an argument leading to more haunting visions from the hexcore offering him an out: emotional numbness. You would never have to feel again Viktor. If you let me in fully, you would never have to be alone again. You'd be more powerful, Viktor.

Imagine Viktor is there during that attack ambessa orchestrated. That he has the horror of witnessing Jayce wield his hammer in a genuine attempt to defend himself and the people he loves. He sees first hand how hextech is being used for destruction in a way that horrifies him.

Imagine him being accused of being a part of it because he's a Zaunite - humiliated in some way. Publicly. Imagine the emotional trauma of this resulting in a falling out so devastating he embraces his visions of the hexcore - gives into the numbness. And only then leaves. With the hexcore... he feels better than he has in years. He hopes he can give the gift of this to others. Now he is under orb influence, but now the way he's gotten there is more satisfying to me at least.

Now imagine him fighting the orb influence in key moments. Imagine the color in his eyes coming back. Imagine Viktor's relationship with the arcane being more of a dance than a vague entanglement. Imagine its influence haunting him in the same way Jinx's visions haunt her. Imagine it being personal rooted in his character.

Old Man Viktor

Listen. I am the old man Viktor connoisseur. I love him. I love the idea of him. I wrote a whole fic about him, during which I had to spend a lot of time with the story. It's sort of... very much impossible to make much sense of?

I'm not mad at the fact that it's an obvious retcon. Honestly, because I think from a storytelling perspective, it worked a lot better than most of the decisions they made this season.

But I'm not a fan of (shocking) how little time we spend with him. How little chance we get to understand his motivatons. And also. What the fuck he said to Jayce to make Jayce's first line of action killing him? In my fic, I made it that Jayce needed to shoot Viktor to get the hexcore out, so he could communicate to viktor without influence. But that felt like heavy lifting I shouldn't necessarily have to do for something so important. It also doesn't feel like a compelling or satisfying question to make your audience have to wrestle with.

The Final Scene

Want to say upfront I am not one of the people who did not like Jayce's speech.

I was quite moved by it. And aside from the perhaps out of place mention of the illness brought on by Piltover which I can understand the criticism for, I felt it was beautiful. (I am disabled btw)

That being said. I think i'd be a sobbing mess on the floor if the themes Jayce is presenting in his speech were more present throughout season 2. Because we really don't see this enough - the desire for perfection.

I'm also not one of those people who thinks Viktor's insecurities weren't present in season 1. To me, they were and were obvious, but not enough in his motivations and actions in season 2 to make Jayce's speech land like it could.

I really loved Jayce's arc in season 2. Him immediately embracing Viktor after he woke from the goo was surprising but felt right. But I wish they had more genuine conflict rooted in their conflict in season 1 that would allow their final moment to land even harder.

I really liked the final scene, and it made me an emotional mess. But weirdly, I'd almost like it as a short film removed from the context of the season two, which says just how little Viktor's arc this season contributed to the moment.

Final Thoughts

I'm so sorry I went so in-depth. I just love him as a character and feel he was very much not done justice.

We can attribute some of this to the lack of time. But when you know you have a lack of time, you need to write with that in mind instead of trying to do it all. And ultimately, I found a lot of scenes this season a waste of precious time. They had so many characters alone contemplating something intangible or alone and trapped for episodes. They didn't plan this with the care and precision needed to pull it off.

I also want to note that I know I say here a lot that there's a lot they needed to make "more obvious". This is not because I'm stupid. But when you're a writer, you need to know what to highlight and what you can leave vague so you leave your audience exploring the right nuances and asking the satisfying questions.

Anyways umm. The end. Holy shit, I'm so sorry I wrote so much.

[loveafterdeath-if]

Update (more like me rambling than an actual update, tbh)

Hope y'all are doing alright! I saw my inbox filled with asks and kind words (y'all are the best, as always), and I'll start answering everything once I wrap up Chap 2, Part 2. I want to focus fully on writing so I can get you the whole chapter before March at least, haha.

I'm gonna start correcting what I've written so far to avoid ending up with 100k words to fix all at once. We're about 50% through Chap 2, Part 2 (38k words, but it'll probably hit 40k with corrections). There are branches that have messed with my brain because I wanted to include scenes for each RO, but I don't regret it. I love games with lots of replayability (is that how we say it?), so I want mine to offer that too.

Chap 2, Part 2 will have a ton of branches for each RO, plus the option if you're not pursuing anyone, so it might take a while to get that full chapter out. I honestly don't know how other authors keep track of so many branches! I've always respected them as a reader/player, but being the one writing makes me wanna hand my future kids over to those incredible authors…

On top of that, I'm dealing with another issue. I've been writing so much that I think I'm slowly slipping into that "They gaze at her and say," "They take the paper and it falls" vibe (is that even a thing? Idk). You know, the kind of writing with no real description. I find myself double-checking everything to make sure the descriptions are 'good,' and I think I'll just play some IFs when I got time, to help me regain my groove without turning phrases all weird (I hate reading books, that's why I'm gonna play IFs). This is making me slow down a bit.

I've been pushing myself to write at least 4-5k words each day for the past 3 (4?) months, and I think I shouldn’t have done that. I'm putting pressure on myself without even realizing it. It's only when I end up with 'only' 3k words that I start feeling upset and push through to hit minimum 4k. I'm feeling good for now and don't mind writing that much, but I really don't want to wake up one day and boom—burnout. A Ko-fi member and some folks in my inbox have kindly reminded me to take breaks and take my time, so I think I'll slow down a bit. Like, maybe aim for 3k words?

I've been writing for years, (started on Wattpad in French, and yeah, it was… something) so no worries about the game going on hiatus or anything. I love writing, especially interactive stuff—so basically IFs, haha. Just wanted to keep you in the loop!

Anyway, this ended up way longer than I intended. Stay safe, don't forget to eat your greens, stay hydrated, and all that! <3

[squishyo-o]

.+*𝓜𝓸𝓶𝓶𝔂, 𝓱𝓾𝓱?*+. ❤️‍🔥

• IDOL!Seonghwa x FEM!Reader

• CW!: Needy/Desperate reader (in the beginning), Mentions of Nudes (?? Idk. Again, only the beginning) Seonghwa being thirty for that 🐱, body worshiping done by seonghwa and his tongue, Somnophilia, overstimulation, Seonghwa in a black tank top (yes this needs its own warning), pet names (angel, pretty, baby, good/pretty girl, probably more that I put in this thing), smut smut smut with a small little plot, I’m probably forgetting stuff

This was a recommendation by @bbdeongi (sorry if you don’t appreciate tags 😓 I didn’t know how to notify you I made this LMAO) after I made that one post a while ago! Whoever recommended this, I hope you enjoy it <3 (This is basically the prompt: post prompt)

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Why did he have to be gone for so long..

So.. agonizingly long…

You and your idol boyfriend, Seonghwa, have been together for roughly a year and a half now. He unfortunately had been super busy since the day of the comeback announcement and you guys hadn’t had been able to spend too much time together. Granted, you’d also get busy at times, but usually the two of you would find a day, or at least a period of time that you guys would be free to go out with each other or relax at home and cuddle together. Even then, sex wasn’t a question with the two of you. Most of the time he’s pretty soft but the days where the group stressed him out, you’ll be in for a lovely ride.

This time you were pent up at home

Since the day of the comeback announcement, he had been busy with recording the new songs for the album and practicing the choreography for their title track. These were the times you kind of hated the most about his job since the amount of time the two of you would spend time together was very little. You were sat in bed with your legs spread and embarrassingly fingering yourself. You knew Seonghwa was way better than you were. Because then he uses his mouth and just makes you fall apart again. Soft helpless sobs came from your lips as you were desperately trying to get yourself to cum somehow. You were hearing Seonghwa’s voice in your head which just turned you on more, but it wasn’t the same.

Every time you got there, you couldn’t seem to get yourself to finish. You eventually got fed up and was too tired to try again. But you decided to show Seonghwa what he was missing out on. You grabbed your phone on the beside table and snapped a picture of your unfinished pussy. Aching and left over. You sent it to him with a caption of 'please hurry home.. miss you.. ❤️' and put the phone down back on the nightstand to go clean yourself up. Even walking to the bathroom just to clean yourself up made you shake and wobble. Seonghwa, who got the message notification, was on a water break when he saw the text.

Fuck..

Seeing you like that, and he wasn’t able to do anything about it right now? Way turned him on. He kept staring at that wetness between your legs in the picture. He silently cursed to himself. Why couldn’t practice just be done already? He wanted so badly to just hurry home and fuck you with his mouth. It didn’t help that your moans were ringing in his ears. Such a beautiful symphony; it makes his cock twitch. He had to cross his legs and play it off as him getting comfortable. "God.. practice can’t go by any faster.." he mumbled under his breath taking a sip of his water, still staring at the picture you sent. He reacted to the picture with a heart and even replied:

"I’m so sorry my angel. Wait for me pretty, and I promise my tongue will give you paradise 💞"

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Roughly about 3 hours later, and Seonghwa was finally on his way home, Really was just about to step into the house. Fuck he has never been so hungry for you. The entire way back home was just him thinking about you. You and your cunt. You and your wet, throbbing, and needy cunt. Even thinking about it now made his cock jump. He needed to be inbetween your legs. Now. He unlocked the front door and let himself in, taking his shoes off. A warm feeling hugged his arms walking in like it always did, knowing that you were here. Here, home, and horny as shit. Seonghwa went upstairs to your guys’s shared room and opened the door.

"Angel? Oh.."

He looked on the bed and saw you. Sleeping. "Fuck I’m sorry angel.. did I take too long..?" He whispered. He looked at your sleeping body, lips in a soft pout in your innocent and peaceful rest. You looked so adorable, but he was hungry for that needy pussy. That picture stirred him up. "Pretty.. I’m home.." he softly spoke, not trying to wake you up too much, but enough to know he was home. "hwa.." you hummed, very sleepy. "I saw what you sent me.. need a little help?" You whined a little, nodding, and starting to fall asleep again. "Aww poor thing.. I’m sorry I kept you waiting.. here.."

Seonghwa climbed over you and your now sleeping figure. "So pretty.." he lifted the blankets and saw that you were only in underwear. Underwear and his t-shirt. "Fuck Angel.. you know how to turn me on and I wasn’t even here.." he said. He looked at your sleeping figure. "Least you’ll wake up to something pleasant, yes?" He carefully slid your panties off and pushed your legs apart to see your pussy. "Poor thing.. can’t believe I left you hanging for so long.." he put in 2 fingers and curled them a couple times, eliciting sleepy whines from you.

"So pretty. Even while you’re sleeping.." He took his fingers away and licked them clean. "Fuck angel.. gotta get a better taste of you.." he said, now dipping his face between those legs and starting to suck and use his tongue, groaning at how good you tasted. He could hear whines coming from you, and could feel you regaining your consciousness. "H-hwa.. Seonghwa.." you moaned. Seonghwa kept lapping up your cunt and slurping up your juices. He was eating you out like it was his last meal. You clamped your thighs around his face, telling him you were close.

You had a grip on his hair because of how well he was doing. Loud and long moans were drawn out of you. "Seonghwa! Seonghwa please I’m close.. I’m close please! Please mommy I’m gonna cum!" Mommy? That’s surely new. And hot. He kept going until the coil in your abdomen finally snapped and you came hard on his tongue. He licked it all up, but didn’t stop. He was still going. "S-seonghwa! T-too much! Too much!" You moaned, but he was still going; his tongue reaching every spot in your clit. Even the ones you didn’t know about.

Your legs were shaking. Thighs squeezing around his face as he kept eating your out. The slurping and groaning sounds that would usually embarrass you, turning you on more. "M-mommy.. mommy I’m gonna cum again.." you moaned as you felt the same familiar pit in your stomach. With one of his hands he put a hand on your thigh and squeezed it which then set you off again and made you moan his name loud as you creamed on his tongue. And he was there to lick it all up.

You staggeringly whined and moaned as you came down from your second high and seonghwa’s pussy eating finally came to a stop. He came back up and looked at you, cocking his eyebrow in amusement. "Mommy, huh?" Your cheeks flushed and you got goosebumps. You looked away before nodding. "Hm.. interesting.." Seonghwa began taking his sweats off. You could see how much he was painfully aching in his boxers. "Need you so bad Angel.. couldn’t wait to get home after I saw the message.. you and that pretty pussy of yours.. fuck.." he groaned.

"Can’t wait to fuck you.." He took off the blankets and began kissing your neck sweetly. "Hwa.." you whined. "Such a pretty girl.." you were still quite tired from the two previous orgasms, but the way Seonghwa was talking, there was no way he was gonna stop now. He was turned on. "Seonghwa.. c-can’t go again.." you whined. Seonghwa was busy worshipping your body and had already taken his shirt off of you while kissing your boobs. "No bra underneath? In my t-shirt? Someone was needy.." you then pouted. "So are you by how you’re kissing me.." Seonghwa chuckled.

"You don’t seem to mind though, right?" He said and went back to your thighs, kissing and biting on them and listening to the sounds of your moans. Seonghwa took off his boxers and alined himself with your hole. "So sorry I kept you waiting my angel.." he said as he entered you, you gasping at the intrusion. "S-seonghwa I-i can’t.. go again.." he began thrusting in you slowly. "Cmon now.. be a good girl for mommy, eh?" You moaned at his words. He went slow for a little bit before going a little faster, hearing your moans get louder. "Oh my fucking god.. Seonghwa.. please more.."

"Ah ah.. that’s not my name, is it angel? Try again.. what’s my name?"

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𝓐𝓝: chat- the delay on this story IM SO SORRY 😭😭😭😭 I GOT IT OUT THOUGH 🥲 Hope you guys enjoy this one!! Lmk in comments or reblogs <3 love you guys and remember to be kind to yourself and drink water ❤️ xoxo

[lessrthanthree]

Thanks for the tag ari :D !!!! so sorry im responding so late </3

Last song: echo of my shadow by aurora

Favorite color: sage and olive green

Last book: nevada through rose colored glasses: the fossil and plant collecting percy trains

Last film: oh my god I have no idea.

Last tv show: disclaimer

Sweet savory spicy: spicy or savory, anything sweet hurts my teeth

Relationship status: taken

Last thing I googled: what the memory leak error message i got was and how to stop it

Current obsessions: rain world still, I really miss it and wanna play it again but I just can't bring myself too, and that's bc I've been latched back into playing stardew valley every day 😭 I love my farm.........

Looking forward to: uh idk i dont want winter break to end so i suppose the NEXT break i will be back home for which is MAYBE summer unless i do field jobs and cant come back til i graduate oops!!!!!!!

Tagging: @fluffguff25 @riondisease @thenoodlegod

thank you @slashsleuth for the tag 😁 i havent done a little game in a long time

last song: fruit roll ups by waterparks

fav color: purple 💜😈💟🪻

last book: the absinthe underground by jamie pacton (it was ok)

last movie: wicked

last tv show: abbott elementary

sweet/savory/spicy: sweet usually

relationship status: single 😊

last thing i googled: the absinthe underground (needed the author lmao) before that it was turbulent waterparks chords

current obsession: ive been watching a lottt of jet lag lately!!! super fun travel show!!

looking forward to: signed parx print coming in the mail today 🫶🏼

tagging: @bergoozter @trashworldblog @outer-space-face @22psyduck :-)

[cod-indulgences]

heyaaa. idk if u js do 141 or not but I have (i guess) an extreme request for u…wanted to know if u could make a short fic or smth of a gangbang between reader, 141, and los vaqueros (js rudy and alejandro). it doesn’t rlly matter how it starts or not. thank you 🤍

Tf141 x Los Vaqueros x female!reader, gangbang, oral, facesitting, spanking, rimming, anal, breastplay, nippleplay, blowjobs, face fucking, tit fucking, squirting, come play, multiple orgasms

(read more under the cut because this shit got LONG)

Rudy has been at you all damn day- little touches making you aware of your body and his. His hand curling around the back of your neck for a kiss, more possessive as he licks into your mouth. Stepping behind you with his hands on your hips, drawing you back to feel his semi against your ass before he moves on. Dipping his hands up your shirt for a quick grope, tweaking your nipples, then backing away again. It's served only to wind you up- hes been hinting at some big surprise, but your only clues were Ale advising that you get some extra stretches this morning- and the way he stared between your legs when you pushed yourself into a full split.

They've pulled the couches closer together, fussing around with pillows like a couple of broody hens- when the door knocks they both smirk at you in a way that sends a thrill between your legs.

"Ready, cariño?" Rudy croons into your ear, when Alejandro answers the door.

You answer unsteadily, "ready for what?" as both hands come up your shirt this time, rucking up the fabric, and when four more men come in behind Alex you realize just what they've been working on. Rudy's hands on your tits, now fully visible with your shirt pushed up and his strong arms holding you still, so that everyone can see the way your hard nipples, the flush down your chest.

Price comes forward first, and when you nod and smile, takes one of your breasts into his own hand and squeezes, watching your face as his grip gets tighter until you wince and squirm. His fingers leave red marks when he lets go, your tit bouncing at the sudden lack of support, and suddenly you're surrounded- Rudy at your back, grinding into your ass, Ale and Price in front of you, taking turns passing your breasts back and forth between their hands. Soap and Ghost are at either side, and you can feel their own fingers gently tracing up your thighs, petting the soft skin and teasing around the edge of your shorts.

Gaz slides in against your back with Rudy, and he's the one who first kisses you, soft lips against your throat, cheek, and finally finding your mouth, swallowing the little moan that slips past your lips. You're caught in a web of hands and hard bodies, feeling their cocks fill up against you as you're quickly stripped of your clothes. When the fabric of your panties pulls away with a little damp cling you hear someone swear. Soap actually smells them, the perv, holding the gusset against his nose and inhaling like a dying man, his hand on his cock.

"fucking delicious," he groans, and yanks your hips forward. "I call dibs on eating her first- c'mon bonnie, on the couch, you're sitting on my face-"

Ale sucks a hickey on your neck as he sets you up kneeling over Soap, and the Scotsman wastes no time- he yanks your hips down and licks a fat wet stripe up the seam of your pussy, and you moan with a sudden slick rush when he starts sucking at your lips, tongue flicking against your clit and then shoving into your hole. He's damn good, too fucking good, and you know you can't hold out long against him- not when the task force are still playing with your breasts, slapping so that the flesh bounces before taking your nipples into tight pinches, making you squirm and bounce on Soap's face from the stimulation.

Ghost pats your head and chuckles. "Yeah, he's good with his tongue," and pulls his cock out, fat and dripping a little pearly fluid at the tip. "Show me yours love, c'mon," and he guides your head down to suck his cock, licking up the precome before taking the head into your mouth, working your way down his shaft. Every time Soap sucks your clit, you twitch and moan, and Ghost's grip in your hair tightens.

Someone moves you- Rudy?- and you're suddenly leaning forward, Ghost shuffling back to keep your mouth on him, and you settle into a new position, your thighs more spread and ass exposed.

Ale kisses your ass, murmuring sweet lovings, and then suddenly pulls back and spanks you. You yelp, muffled from the cock still in your mouth, and then moan helplessly when Soap catches your clit again and sucks hard. He spanks you again, the other cheek, and Soap sucks at the same time, and Ghost thrusts in a little more- and oh, now it's just sensation, hot tongues and strong hands and a thick wet cock to swallow around, your ass burning under each slap until Soap sucks one more time and you clench and quiver, Ghosts cock slipping from your mouth as you cum, gushing creamy slick from your pussy.

Soap moans and you feel his arm jerking under you where he's stroking himself, rubbing his face against your flesh as if to cover himself in as much of your fluids as possible. His stubble scratches deliciously where you're hot and sensitive, and an aftershock leaves you whining. You feel soft and dumb, malleable around these men, something to be kept caged between them.

And then Gaz's tongue slides into your ass, licking your own cum from around your pussy and using it to drive in further, wet and slick, and you about come off the couch in surprise, yelping and then moaning at the wriggling wet intrusion. Price braces you in place, his own cock rubbing against your cheek as he grips your hair. "Steady there, just let the lad play," he says, and Gaz redoubles his efforts, slurping at your ass, letting his own drool gather and drip down where it mixes with your cum, leaving more wet streaks on Soap's face. Two sets of fingers slide into you at the same time, in both holes, and when your mouth drops open on a moan Price slides his cock into you.

He's rougher than Ghost was, his cock heavier, moving your face where he wants it and driving in. You can hear your own choking noises over the wet slap of his balls against your chin and manage to look up at him with teary eyes. "There's my girl," and he swipes his thumb across your cheek, collecting tears, offered to Ghost to suck off his thumb- oh, you clench hard seeing that, and hear Gaz and Soap groan together as they feel it.

"fuck, and you two were keeping her all to yourselves?" Gaz pants, pulling his fingers out with a wet pop, and you feel the pressure of his cock to your ass even as Soap begins to suck again. Your clit feels hard in his mouth, rolling between his lips and bouncing on his tongue, and you can't hold back the keening cry as Gaz slides his cock into you, one steady push that sets his balls against your cunt and Soaps chin, burning hot and so full inside you.

Price and Gaz set a fast rhythm, pushing you forward from the cock in your ass, pulling you back again to breathe around Price before he fucks your face again. Soap is still playing with your clit, his tongue licking around your pussy and even against Gaz's balls when he bottoms out, making the other man moan where he leans over your back. Through your tears you can see the blurry shapes of Ale and Rudy entwined on the other couch, their hands on each other's cocks as they watch you get fucked into a second orgasm, Price shoving his cock into your throat as Gaz swears and grips your hips, his own stuttering into an orgasm of his own as your ass clenches and squeezes his cock. You hear a wet choking sound and through the pleasure haze recognize Soap is coming as well, furiously jerking his cock, choking and gasping for breath through the fresh flood of slick that coats his face.

Price pops his cock from your mouth and slaps your cheek with it, drool and precome hanging in thick strings from the head and your lips. Gaz pulls out as well, collapsing back against the arm of the couch, and you don't resist at all when Ghost lifts up under your arms and moves you off Soap to instead kneel on the floor. There's a cushion under your knees, you realize, and then lose yourself in the taste and scent as Price and Ghost pass you between them. Ghost is easy, slow, gentle almost as he rubs the leaking head of his cock over your tongue, his fingers petting your hair and tilting your head to the best angle, letting you suckle and leave the flat of your tongue against the underside of his cock. He uses you alongside his fist, jacking his cock as he presses your face to his balls, moaning when you suck them, rubbing your lips over the soft hair and delicate skin.

Price is harsher- harder- he grips your hair and fucks deep into your mouth, popping the head of his cock into your throat just long enough to feel you choke before pulling back, letting the wet sounds fill the air between your moans and whines. He loves it when you look up at him with teary wet eyes, begging without words, and he holds you all the way down when he comes, your nose pressed into his groin, a reflexive clutch of your throat around his cock milking his come out of him. When he pushes you back and you gasp for breath, the last ropes of come stripe your face, dripping over your gaping lips, down to your breasts. Ghost pushes back into your mouth, laying the head of his cock onto your tongue while you pant, blinking up at him blearily though the tears and come clinging to your eyelashes.

"there love, hold still for me- perfect, so good, letting us just use this pretty mouth," he grunts, and jerks himself off onto your tongue, thick and salty. "Dont- no, don't swallow, hold that for me now," Ghost orders, and you moan and feel another heady rush between your legs as you hold your mouth open, showing off the puddle of his come, Price's still streaked over your face and tits, Gaz's leaking out of your ass with every little muscle clench. You feel whoreish and degraded, stripped down to basic functions, covered in the come of three men and your own still wet and gleaming on the face of a fourth.

Ale reaches out from his seat, taking your chin in his hand, drawing you over as Ghost and Price stagger to Soap and Gaz, all four men boneless and satisfied, but still watching you with interest as you shuffle on your knees to your vaqueros. Both Ale and Rudy lean down to kiss you, licking the come from your cheeks and lips, and you whine in sudden desperation for more of their touch. Rudy gets his hands back on your breasts and tugs your nipples, reigniting the nerves that had been teased before. He smears the come on them as well, groping you as Ale licks into your mouth, drawing Ghosts come out on his tongue before feeding it to Rudy in a deep lush kiss.

Ale coos at you when he looks down and sees your eyes full of new tears, gone past being able to use words with your wrecked throat and melted brain, but you're so fucking desperate- Rudy is still playing with your nipples and each touch sends a throb to your clit, and into your aching pussy. You want their cocks, want to be filled up so badly, and you've had your ass and throat fucked but only fingers in your cunt. It's devastating in a simple animal way, and you feel like a cat in heat, ready to present your hole for filling by anyone who will give you a cock.

"Here, sweet thing, come on up," Ale says, and pats his knees, helping you up off your own rubbery legs and into his lap. You are wet down your thighs, and Ale doesn't even try and check you with his fingers- instead he lifts you up and then brings you down, a single smooth movement that takes you from empty to full in a second.

You find your words again.

"oh, thank you, thank you, please keep fucking me, Ale, fuck so good so big so full-" you babble, and Alejandro grips the soft flesh around your hips and begins to slam you down onto his cock, forcing your sloppy wet cunt to slap against his groin, a squeal coming past your lips as your clit, sore from Soap's attention, rubs against his pubic hair each time he bottoms out.

You're coming almost before you realize it, screaming as your thighs shake and cunt squeezes Ale so tightly he swears and has to hold you in place to keep from being pushed out. You moan and limply collapse against his shoulder, panting and shuddering. Your whole body tingles, and as your breathing steadies you can hear more moaning, wet sex sounds, and as Rudy and Ale lift you up off his cock you see the task force. Gaz and Price are pressed against each other, making out as both men tug and play with the others cock, and Gaz leans over and swipes his fingers through your slick, puffy pussy lips (he catches your clit and your thighs spasm) before bringing them back to Price's cock, stroking the older man with renewed speed. Ghost is sprawled with his thighs open, holding Soap's wrists together in the small of his back as he drives his cock up into the smaller man's mouth, slow and deep.

Ale lays you on your back on the floor, spreading your thighs, and you smile at him with dumb animal pleasure as he slides back into your drenched cunt, no resistance at all, just wet flesh welcoming his cock back where it belongs. He moans and lets his head hang forward as he bottoms out again, fucking into you slowly.

Rudy kneels next to you, and you realize what's coming as he swings his leg over and settles his cock between your tits, his ass hovering over your face as he grips your nipples and uses them to pull your breasts up and in- you cry out and bury your face in the hot seam of his ass and thigh as the pain-pleasure ripples through you. His cock leaves streaks of precome between your breasts, slicking the way along with your sweat and Price's come that's s till drying on your skin. Your nipples ache in his ruthless grip, and you gasp in relief when he at last releases them to instead grip your tits and press them around his cock, fucking between them.

You moan and lift your arms to grip around Rudy's thighs, kissing the so-soft skin in front of you. You want more from him, more of his taste and pleasure, and find your lips traveling higher, nuzzling and licking until you reach his hole- just a little furled muscle, and when you lick across it with just the tip of your tongue you hear Rudy make the softest, sweetest moan. His hips stutter fucking between your tits, and you lick again, tasting his skin and sweat. He tastes good, and you float in a liminal space of heat and pleasure, working your tongue past that tight little muscle and into Rudy's ass, your pussy throbbing with your pulse. The man pinches your nipples again and you moan into him, gone beyond pain, spearing your tongue as far as it will go as Rudy fucks himself on it, rocking his hips back and forth to fuck the soft flesh of your tits. Your thighs have fallen open around Ale, limp and quivering, and you find yourself surrendering utterly to the two men.

Ale and Rudy fill your world, sight and sound and taste and pleasure all formed around their bodies against yours- and vaguely you hear the 141 all moaning and climbing to their own peaks. Ale lifts your hips and puts his thumb on your clit and oh- oh, oh oh-

Pressure builds in your belly, deep and hot, and there's a sudden new sensation you vaguely recognize, growing alongside your orgasm, but you can't think past the pleasure. Rudy is still fucking your tongue, letting it pop out and leave across his ass before you manage to stiffen it again for him, his fingers pinches your nipples mercilessly, so tight you want to cry as he forces your breasts together to massage his cock.

Ale is still fucking you so slow, so fucking deep, and as the pressure bursts through you like a grenade you hear a scream and feel the hot wet flood against your groin and thighs where Ale suddenly begins slamming his cock into you, frantic. Your tongue retreats limply into your mouth as your eyes roll back and you keep coming, coming again, arching and squirting and screaming as Rudy spills over your breasts and belly, nipples released with a snap that brings another quiver from your poor cunt. Ale groans above you and stills, his hips grinding his cock in deep as he comes, adding his own to the creamy mess of your come.

Rudy collapses on the floor next to you, and someone lifts your head. Blearily you manage to see Soap, his face wet with Ghost's come, bring his straining cock to your lips. You can't move even to suck him, and instead let him fuck into your mouth like a fleshlight, using your soft tongue and palette until he shudders and comes, swearing. You're so blissed out the come just drools out of your mouth, sloppy, and when Soap leans down to lick it off you you hear two more moans and feel slick bursts of come across your breasts, Gaz and Price jerking each other off over you, painting you like tiger stripes.

You float in a soft come-soaked haze, body thrilling with each little muscle spasm, used to the end of your rope. There's gentle hands wiping your body down, a pair of tongues gently laving the come from your skin. You shake when someone licks over your pussy, too-much too-sore, and are shushed with kisses as the man between your legs gently cleans you, pressing a kiss to your clit, still standing full and hard, and you cry out as the easiest, gentlest orgasm rolls you into oblivion. Thats alright, you can let yourself go- you have your Ale and Rudy and the 141 to take care of you until you wake.

[evilbirdy]

heyyy so i was wondering if you Could do se-mi x reader Where her, se-mi, thanos, nam gyu, and min su are Living in a huge apartment bc you guys do band together and everyone has their own rooms but you sleep in se-mi’s room most of the time bc you two are dating ( the others dont know yet) and every morning you wake up early to go back to your room. One Night All of you desided to watch a movie in se-mi’s room. Thanos, Nam gyu and min su are on a Big Air mattress and you and se-mi are on her bed. All of you Fall asleep so the boys wake up seeing you two cuddleing. Se-mi is spooning you While having her hands up your shirt🫢. They also see the way se-mi’s head in placed by your neck Where you have some purple Marks. They waited for you two to wake up and then they confronted you two so you had to tell them the truth.

idk why Else to put in so you Can choose and Thank you soo much. Have a lovely Day or night

𝖆𝖓 𝖆𝖓𝖌𝖊𝖑 𝖘𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝖋𝖗𝖔𝖒 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖛𝖊𝖓, 𝖏𝖚𝖘𝖙 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖒𝖊

𝔫𝔬𝔴 𝔭𝔩𝔞𝔶𝔦𝔫𝔤 ~ 𝔠𝔥𝔦𝔠𝔞𝔤𝔬 𝔟𝔶 𝔪𝔦𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔢𝔩 𝔧𝔞𝔠𝔨𝔰𝔬𝔫

𝒮𝑒-𝓂𝒾 𝓍 𝒻𝑒𝓂!𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗣𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗶𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗦𝗽𝗶𝗰𝘆 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗷𝗼𝗸𝗲𝘀, 𝗶𝗻𝗻𝘂𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗼𝘀, 𝗵𝗶𝗻𝘁𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗦𝗲-𝗺𝗶 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗱𝗼𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗲 ‘𝗱𝗲𝘃𝗶𝗹’𝘀 𝘁𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗼’ 𝘆𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗱𝗿𝗶𝗹𝗹.

˜”*°•.˜”*°• Also I changed it all a bit but I hope you still like it <3 •°*”˜.•°*”˜

“Did you get that, Minsu?” you asked, finishing your last lyric and letting Thanos play his last note. Minsu nods turning off the camera.

“That was a good take, I’m gonna edit it and post it as a promo before tonight’s show,” Minsu took out his sd card and put it in his computer.

“Speaking of tonight, (your name), can you sing a little bit into the mic to make sure the sound is good,” Thanos connected the mic into a speaker.

“She smiled and looked at me. I was surprised to see..that a woman like that was really into me,” you sang, you couldn’t help but make eye contact with your girlfriend across the room.

You have been dating Se-mi for about six years now. You had met in junior year of college, thanks to Thanos who wanted you both to join his band. You must admit you felt intimidated by her at first, she gave you a ‘Hot Topic model’ vibe. She was actually very kind and sweet to you compared how she acts with Thanos and Nam-gyu.

What you didn’t know was how attracted she was to you. She would sometimes ask Minsu if you were with anybody or found anyone cute. Minsu could have told her about the times you rant about how you liked Se-mi but he didn’t want to break your trust.

She got over herself a year later and decided to ask you out after practice.

flashback

“𝘖𝘬𝘢𝘺 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘫𝘰𝘣 𝘨𝘶𝘺𝘴, 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘍𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘢𝘺,” 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘴 𝘺𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘕𝘢𝘮-𝘨𝘺𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘔𝘪𝘯-𝘴𝘶 𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮.

𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘢 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘱𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘦. 𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘦, 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘦𝘹𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦.

“𝘍𝘶𝘤𝘬,” 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩. 𝘈 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘳𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥. 𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘢𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘱 𝘴𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘦, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘯 𝘶𝘮𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘢, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘰 𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘶𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘢 𝘤𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘦𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘕𝘢𝘮-𝘨𝘺𝘶. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘔𝘪𝘯-𝘴𝘶 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘸.

“𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘶𝘱,” 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘫𝘶𝘮𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘥, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘚𝘦-𝘔𝘪 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘺 𝘣𝘢𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘦.

“𝘜𝘮𝘮..𝘮𝘺 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯’𝘵 𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘺𝘴,” 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘶𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘥, 𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘬𝘦𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦.

“𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘦, 𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥,” 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘴 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘳.

“𝘖𝘩 𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯’𝘵, 𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶,” 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥, 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘴𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘺 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘨𝘰 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘥.

“𝘕𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘤𝘢𝘳 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘥𝘢𝘺, 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘯,” 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘸 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘩 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘨𝘶𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘳, 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘶𝘱 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘫𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳.

𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘨𝘶𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯. 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘳 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵, 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨.

“𝘚𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨,” 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦, 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘰𝘭 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴.

“𝘜𝘮𝘮𝘮…𝘥𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶- 𝘯𝘰 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘮…𝘭𝘦𝘵’𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘦,” 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥, 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘱 𝘱𝘪𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘶𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨.

“𝘞𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘶𝘮𝘮 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘰 𝘰𝘯 𝘢 𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦….𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘦….𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘚𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘥𝘢𝘺?” 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘤 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘷𝘴. 𝘞𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘳 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘣𝘺 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵? 𝘋𝘪𝘥 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘚𝘦-𝘮𝘪 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘴𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘰𝘶𝘵?

“𝘏𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘰…(𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦)?” 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦, 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥.

“𝘠𝘌𝘚…𝘰𝘩 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺, 𝘐 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘺𝘦𝘴, 𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘰 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶,” 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘵. 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭.

“𝘏𝘮𝘮 𝘤𝘰𝘰𝘭, 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥, 𝘐’𝘭𝘭 𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘶𝘱 𝘚𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘢𝘵 5,” 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘢 𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨.

𝘖𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘣 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥, 𝘳𝘶𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘣 𝘢𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴 𝘪𝘵.

𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦.

Even when you two moved in with the boys six years later, you two managed to keep your relationship hidden. You guys didn’t want Thanos and Nam-gyu well being too much like themselves and making it all weird. You made it work though, Se-mi would give you small kisses to you after she comes back from job, you would write ‘I love you’ randomly on her back when you pass her, she would sneak into your room every night.

You just wanted a peaceful relationship with your girl and it’s been like that.

Until tonight

After you guys finished up with your performance. It was hectic but fun and your fans love every second. Thanos insisted that the band should have a movie night. You politely declined knowing you still had work tomorrow.

Se-mi decided to join them, she would have rather joined you in your room but the living room is practically facing your door and she knows Thanos will say something. She sat on the couch as the boys picked some random movie, it was very boring and she wanted to be with you so bad.

It took a couple of movies and hours before the boys passed out on the couch. She smirked taking that as an opportunity to slip into your room.

“Honey,” Se-mi whispered, walking into your room. You were still awake playing video games on your phone. You opened your blanket, silently telling her to join you. She smiled, jumping on to you and pulling you on her chest, she scattered kisses all over you.

“They didn’t see you come in here?” you put your phone on the dresser, cuddling into her. She shook her head playing with your shirt.

“Nope, they are passed out on the couch,” you hummed in acknowledgment and yawned.

“Oh no, you aren’t going to sleep yet, you need to make up for yesterday,” Se-mi slides on top of you. You laughed and poked her nose.

“Are you trying to get us caught?” you asked, your eyes kept looking to your door, she chuckled lowly and leans down to your ear.

“Try not to make noise then,” you gasp and covered your face, she takes your hands and kisses you deeply.

In the morning, Thanos wakes up first, he looks around noticing Se-Mi wasn’t in the living. He hits Nam-gyu on the head and taps Min-su lightly.

“Hey, where did Se-Mi go?” The three look around before getting up.

“She probably went back to her room,” Min-su says, rubbing the sleep from his eyes going to the kitchen.

“Well she needs to get up, it’s 10 am and we need to work on next week’s show,” Thanos walked to Se-mi’s room opening the door, finding it empty.

“What the..”Thanos slowly closes the door and walks backwards, he had an idea that you would know where she was so he walked to your door, he quietly knocks before entering. His jaw dropped seeing Se-mi spooning you and her face in your neck.

He walked closer finding purple marks on your neck.

“OH SHIT,” Thanos yelled out, waking you two up and grabbing the attention of Min-su and Nam-gyu.

“What the hell is goin- oh,” Nam-gyu smiles and side eyed you both.

“What? can you guys get out of my room please,” you were lowkey freaking out. You tried to cover your marks with your hands or the blanket.

“Family meeting in the living room, get umm try to look decent,” Thanos marched into the living with the two of course following suit.

You and Se-mi got dressed and walked into the living room, Thanos has his arms and legs crossed like a mother who found her teenage son’s search history.

“So.. Semi? (your name)? How long has this been going on?” he tilts his head super far and shook his head.

“Uhh umm for about six years,” you muttered, Thanos dramatically gasped and clutched his heart.

“how…dare…you keep this from us no from me, I thought we were besties (your name),” Thanos leans into Nam-gyu, fake passing out.

“Ehh I figured,” you all looked at Min-au who just shrugged and went back on his phone.

“What, you knew?” Se-mi said, out of all three of them, Min-su was probably the last to be so chill about it.

“Yeah umm I heard you two uhh ‘playing’ when I came back early from and Thanos and Nam-gyu were out. I turned back around and went to go get ice cream and didn’t want to embarrass you both,” Min-us explains, going back to his shy-ness, looking to the wall.

You just stood there and nodded. You let out a sigh and walked back to your room, getting dressed. You were already late but at this point, you didn’t care. You knew you won’t hear the end of this from Thanos. Se-Mi walks in wrapping her arms around you.

“Hey..think about it, it could be worse…they could have walked in while we were doing it,” you laughed and playfully pushed her back and continued getting dressed.

[sakurabraches]

i don't like when people reduce glinda's decision to stay behind into one simple thing, when there are so many moving parts that contribute to why she didn't go with elphaba

on one hand, she's scared and she hasn't reached the part of her character developement where she's ready to stand up to authority like that. part of her recognizes that staying with the wizard will be personally beneficial, and she's willing to make moral compromises for her own gain

but she's not being entirely selfish, either. she's actually primarily concerned about elphie. glinda recognizes the dangers of rebelling against the wizard like that, and doesn't want elphaba to get hurt. glinda genuinely believes that if elphie stays behind, puts her head down, and plays the game, she'll be able to further her cause more than outright rebellion

part of this belief probably comes from the fact that staying with the wizard is the easier thing to do, but glinda's also still naive about how the system works. she's only ever benefitted from the status quo, so she believes that change can still occur within the system. even while they're literally being chased by the gale force, glinda is like "if you say you're sorry, we can fix this"

and i think her role as glinda the good is complicated, too. like, on one hand, glinda knows the truth about the wizard, so she kind of has to play this role for her own safety. but it's clear she also enjoys the attention and praise she gets by being "glinda the good," which is why she doesn't go find elphaba like fiyero suggests

but i also think glinda believes that she's doing good as "glinda the good." like, she's making people happy and bringing them much needed joy in uncertain times. she's trying to promote kindness and charity. obviously, this ignores the fact that she's complicit in the wizard's rule, but her character development in act ii is her deciding to be truly good and stand up to that system

glinda genuinely wants to be a good person and do good, and her character arc is her learning how to do that

idk this is probably just rambling but i get bothered when ppl reduce glinda's decision to her being selfish or not loving elphie enough. she's way more complicated than that and i think that's what makes her so interesting