#i will pass this on when i am not on mobile!

[theothervonkarmagirl]

🌸 If you get this, answer with 3 random facts about yourself and send it to the last 7 blogs in your notifications, anonymously or not! Let's get to know the person behind the blog. 🌸

🍭:

1. I love reading about history! My fave historical subjects are the Sengoku Period, royal families and the crazy stuff they did (and still do), and domestic life/the role of everyday women in any given society.

2. I am one of those chicks that will dress nice to the supermarket LOL. I don't even feel bad about it.

3. I am super sensitive to smells and temperatures and all sorts of stuff like that. If any of those are off I will not be happy ok.

[whisperofthewaves]

it is now 2h past the time I initially set for the woman whose alleged package I mistakenly picked up to meet and give it back to her, and I have yet to hear from her.

I mean. I did call inpost again to try and return it to the sender, which they accepted and today somebody contacted me and a courier will be picking it up on monday, so I have no intention of meeting with the woman today. but like. I’ve been waiting for a message from her.

surely, if you had paid for a package and somebody else picked it, you’d be more firm about getting it back?

I feel very weird about this whole business.

(edit: ~10mins later I saw a missed call and a message)

[transgaysex]

speaking of horrors theres something happening and i dont know what it is but its pissing me off

[arklay]

i did it besties...i made the drastic change...now i go eepy

[sepiasys]

I am... irritated.

[Went to supermarket with B, rant below]

[know that we did however get some honeybuns and 7up and that was pleasant. I don't think I personally would have gotten the same things though; in hindsight it feels even stranger to be the one carrying everything.]

I believe it were that 🌼 was out initially, especially as we were craving something sweet. I do vaguely remember hearing our voice was slightly different there while B took us out (he needed to move/walk for relief, went to the supermarket as it was easier).

We ran into a homeless man and ended up helping him out with getting some fruit (he eventually came in after a while and got what he wanted specifically, which I am glad for as we were uncertain what specifically ('fruit cup by the cakes' was not specific enough and he got something else in the end--similar to how I had wanted to get something fruot adjacent for him anyhow)).

The reason I am irritated however, is not the homeless man. It is that at some point B had started to text someone important (this is something causing him great mental and emotional and quite possibly physical anguish), and he requested we walk ahead. We were fine initially, but any moment we stopped was met with "what are you doing?" And pleads to continue. Once he even requested that we move faster. I resolved that we simply needed to wander around.

This was greatly bothersome, if you didn't know. There were a couple moments when stopping was indeed necessary--fixing our outfit so that it did not cause issues later, for example. It is highly displeasurable to have someone insist that you keep doing something, even despite the understanding we have that he is going through a great deal of turmoil.

Even now that we are home things have not resolved. He is speaking verbally to whomever is of great importance, and gets irrationally agitated whenever we are visible at all. He requested for us to stay in our room for this. Yes, I understand why, but when I am simply walking and paying you no mind, YOU DO NOT DEMAND THAT I HURRY UP AND LEAVE REPEATEDLY. I do not owe it to you that I scurry away like a frightened little animal for your own comfort, even if you are having a tough time. Do not treat me as such.

[zoekrystall]

Hello hello excuse me why the absolute fuck can you not mute words on bluesky I am going to combust that is such a basic thing?? What the fuck?? I might not use it until they implement that bc what is this. I just tried to mute bc I glanced at my timeline and read bg3 and remembered oh. Right. The thing that makes me avoid all streams rn. (good game, specific character brings bad thoughts up, don't ask, twt is already agony since but not anyone's fault the mute function there sucks). Also like me and a lot of other people got more standard bad stuff they don't wanna see and don't want to start muting whole accs we follow??? There is a free extension I need to figure out how to get on mobile (shouldn't be too hard for me) but I shouldn't need to do that for such a basic and no brainer function. Idc if it comes later stuff like that should be there from day 1. Like even if no-one would post abt the most standard triggering topics literally everything can be a potential trigger for someone even the most harmless stuff.

[lessycusee]

henley should’ve been in the second film bc she deserved to interact on screen w lula & have a positive on screen interaction w another woman. bc like henley is SUCH a girl’s girl. she loves other women, loves to hype them up! like !!!

[orchidyoonkook]

PG | KTH

Title: PG 

Pairing: Older Brother's Best Friend!Kim Taehyung x (F)!Reader

Rating//Genre: (M) | One Shot, Friends to Lovers, Age Gap, Slice of Life, Angst, Smut and Touches of Fluff

Summary: You aren’t delusional enough to think anything would ever happen between the two of you, not for a damn second. Be it the age difference, the fact that he’s your brother's friend, or the extremely high likelihood that he sees you as nothing more than Fourteen’s annoying little sister that he can use to rile said best friend up.

But that’s about it. Nothing more. And reality is something you’re able to keep a solid grasp on when it comes to him. You don’t let it go for the sake of acting on a one sided and unrequited feeling you know will pass… eventually.

Warnings: nicknames! a disgusting amount, language, assholes being assholes but being put in their place, brotherly love, sibling antics, tae is a swimmer and knows judo, also a Dan is--for the lack of better phrasing--a high belt level in judo. think of it like a black belt, OC cant keep it in her pants and neither can tae, mutual pining, lots of great gatsby references because I'm tyring to be that bitch (I am joking), tae has tats, OC's brother is an overprotective idiot but we love him anyway, slight physical abuse not by tae or reader or fourteen--basically someone grips an arm too harshly, some panic but no panic attack,

Explicit warnings under the cut.

Word Count: 11,521

Release Date: September 15, 2024. 12:00PM

A/N 1: The biggest most huge thank you to @violetsiren90 for being my sounding board, tech support and beta. She's a real one and y'all are sleeping on her work if you haven't alread read it. Go check her out!

A/N 2: My access to the adobe suite was aha....revoked. So! this is my first time making a banner and divider without photoshop. Therfore, the banner and the divider are a bit different than what I'm used to having XD. Tumblr is also absolutely destroying the qualty which is sooooo great. It looks wonky and blurry to me on desktop but fine on mobile so it is what it is. If i ever get adobe access again I'll probably come back and update the graphics.

Explicit Warnings: *ahem* nicknames, teasing, kissing, biting, marking (several ways), hand and finger kink (duh), voice kinklet (duhhhh), hair 'pulling' (m rec), semi public if you squint, hella foreplay, tae has a big dick, penetrative sex, oral (m+f rec), fingering, handjob?, multiple orgasms, body worship, switch like activities but mostly dominant tae, posessiveness, confessions, reader takes what she wants but so does tae, exhibitionism if you squint, slight cum play/eating, implied squirting, choking, cream pie. Pretty sure thats all of them. i never reailse how many i need to put until the list is done and wow *chuckes while blushing*

“Oi, can you fucking not? My sister’s right fucking there,” your older brother, Fourteen—nicknamed for his forever mental age—ridiculously and unneededly overprotective as always, says.

It is especially unneeded and ridiculous as he’s saying it to Tae, when all he’s doing is taking off his shirt to go for a swim in your pool. Like he’s been doing since you were tweens.

Well.

Since you were a tween and they were nearing the legal drinking age. But that’s besides the point. 

Best friend to your knuckle head of an older brother, you honest to god have no idea how they became friends. 

Taehyung is poetry and jazz and button up cotton shirts. Old book smell and expensive cologne, ringed fingers and whiskey, neat. The kind of vibe someone would get from being raised by a very successful lawyer for a father and a top ranking university professor of literature for a mother, while Fourteen is… your older brother. 

Maybe it’s a younger sister thing to not understand how her older brother has any friends. Considering you grew up with him, know all of his weird and gross habits, have a lovely dash of sibling bullying thrown in that you two share equally, and more. Yet, by some miracle, he and Tae manage to balance one another out. 

Tae—fucking somehow—makes your brother into a more presentable human being. He showers more than twice a week and wears deodorant every day now—even puts the seat down after peeing, a habit you’ve been screaming at him to stop doing since you could use the toilet. While Fourteen gives Tae a rougher edge he previously never seemed to be able to grasp, despite trying his best too. 

For example, the several delicate tattoos he now has all over his body, your favourite of which is an old timey record player on the inside of his forearm. They were something he’d been wanting to do for years, but only finally bit the bullet on and did once Fourteen took him when they were twenty two. 

Since then the collection’s only grown, much to your inner glee and mental dismay. 

And don’t even get you started on the delicate, thin rimmed glasses he occasionally wears—golden and the perfect shape for his face—or the ear piercings that just really fucking cement the tortured poet look that makes your heart clench every. single. time. you look at him. 

Similarly to what it’s doing right now, though no one ever knows due to your truly oscar worthy talent for acting completely oblivious to the beautiful shirtless man about to dive in. Call it over a decades worth of practice, and the fact that it’s also nothing you hadn’t gloriously taken in all teenagehood long. 

Every time you could get it. 

Which was a lot because Tae was on the high school swim team. 

For four years. 

And then the university swim team.

For another four. 

Teenage you was a lucky bitch. Now you’re only blessed with this sight when he comes over to swim laps or attempt to drown Fourteen. Which, admittedly, was still often. But not nearly as much as back then. 

The sight in question however, is curled black hair that frames eyes so warm you swear the sun’s relocated to his irises, and a jawline that makes the Statue of David’s pathetic in comparison. It’s fingers that make your mouth water from the way they flip book pages and thighs that make you think thoughts and things you never thought you would. 

It’s the scribbled text: ‘To err is human; to forgive, divine’ tattooed across his ribs, and a lean torso, muscled but not outrageously so. Just enough to have you forcing yourself not to stare at the delicate lines of his abdomen every time he comes over for a swim. 

Thank god for sunglasses. 

“Nah, I’m sure PG can handle it, Dumbass. I’ve only been using your pool every summer for the last 15 years give or take,” Tae says with a quirked brow and a half smile directed at you. 

Behind your sunnies, you heat up a touch, and internally sigh. Have you mentioned his smile yet? 

Because oh yeah, his fucking smile. 

Tae’s a nickname kind of person, hence why even you call your brother ‘Fourteen’. Taehyung’s called him Fourteen for so long now that calling your brother by his birth name just feels wrong. 

This being said, PG is Tae’s nickname for you. 

It stands for the TV rating ‘Parental Guidance’ because you’re younger by enough that when you were still under the age of 18, they—see: your brother and Tae because they’ve been joined at the hip since they met—were usually assigned babysitting duty. Very much the ‘take your sister with you’ sibling, but they never complained. Not once.

As much as you and Fourteen bully one another, you’re actually quite close when you aren’t verbally sparring—which is where his annoying overprotectiveness comes in. Even when it comes to Taehyung. 

“Yeah, Dumbass,” you copy, earning a smirk from Tae as he leans down to take his shoes off. “It’s just Tae.”

“It’s not about that YN, it’s about respect. You’re my little sister, and Fuckass over here,” you brother jabs a thumb in Tae’s direction, which earns you a second hidden smirk from the Fuckass in question, “Still doesn’t know how to respect that fact even after a decade and a half apparently.”

You shrug as Fourteen finishes his point and narrows his eyes at his best friend. Tae gives him a shit eating grin that screams ‘what are you going to do about it’ and your brother gives him a two fingered salute before shaking his head and taking off his own shirt. 

You take that as your cue to put your head back down because you don’t need to see that. 

Currently in very comfortable linen shorts and tank, you’re sitting on a padded pool lounger, rereading The Great Gatsby for the hundredth time. It’s one of the classics that never gets old for you, has the benefit of being a shorter read—therefore perfect for the poolside—and happens to be the copy Tae’d gotten you for Christmas a couple years ago. Pure coincidence, you tell yourself. Nothing more. 

With the beautiful addition of your very darkly glassed sunnies, it also makes the perfect decoy as you watch Tae over the top of the open book without risk of being caught. 

You firmly follow the rule of a little looking can’t hurt. 

You aren’t delusional enough to think anything would ever happen between the two of you, not for a damn second. Be it the age difference, the fact that he’s your brother's friend, or the extremely high likelihood that he sees you as nothing more than Fourteen’s annoying little sister that he can use to rile said best friend up—see: current shirt stripping debacle. It’s not the first nor the last time he’ll do something like it, and you’re pretty sure you and Tae have an unspoken agreement at this point to push as many of Fourteen’s buttons as you can together, just to see how far he’ll let it go before freaking out.

But that’s about it. Nothing more. And reality is something you’re able to keep a solid grasp on when it comes to him. You don’t let it go for the sake of acting on a one sided and unrequited feeling you know will pass… eventually. 

Despite the flames that rage and roar on in your heart. 

Despite the green light on the dock across the way tackling your brother under the water. 

You hold on. And only in these little moments of in between do you allow yourself to look. Pockets of time where a peek won’t be seen or recorded, and a moment of self indulgence keeps your sanity from trying to escape its tightly locked box.

You look and look and look until the green light is covered in fog once more, and the lid of the box seals tight.  

Another day, another glorious abuse of best friend privileges, Taehyung thinks to himself as he continues his butterfly down the imaginary lanes in Fourteen’s pool. 

He tries to come over at least three times a week. Four or five if he’s able, the more he’s over the higher chance he has to see you, not just Fourteen. But he’s rarely able to these days. 

Though the wind appears to have shifted in his favour today. You’re sitting on the lounge chairs again, reading away in the afternoon sun. 

It’s his favourite view. And it’s sweetened by the fact that you’re in the shorts he loves and reading a book he gave you. Something he’s done since before he could remember, really. 

Christmases and birthdays, he’s always given you a book. Usually a classic, sometimes something else. If it caught his eye or reminded him of you, he’d grab it and save it until the next Christmas or the next birthday, whichever came first. And you’ve always loved them, so he’s never stopped. 

They’re gifts that seem harmless to Fourteen, and for the most part they are. But these last few have been…different. Had deeper thought put into them. The titles, the story lines, the prose. He swears you notice it, but maybe that’s just his own wishful thinking. 

And he sure as fuck can’t be doing any of that. 

This cold water isn’t doing its job well enough.

Finishing his set, Tae swims over to rest before starting on his front stroke. Forearms hold him up on the edge of the pool, his chin balancing on stacked knuckles while his breath catches. 

He also uses this little break as an excuse to talk to you. He only ever freely can when Fourteen isn’t around, and right now his best friend is inside grabbing drinks, towels and probably relieving himself–which, knowing Fourteen—could take anywhere from thirty seconds to thirty minutes. So he has to take advantage of every moment he gets. 

“Got any new recommendations for me PG?” 

Books are an easy starting point when it comes to you. Fourteen may be a graphic novel at best kind of guy, but your brain can’t seem to inhale enough books to satiate it. And just the thought makes his temples rush with heat. 

He should dunk his head again.

You lower your Fitzgerald by one inch and raise an eyebrow to counter it. Just like your brother, you’re always one to give him a hard time. Make him work for every millimeter of ground conquered. And he’s pretty sure you have a smirk hiding behind the pages, though he can’t be certain due to the sunglasses hiding your eyes. 

“Maybe,” you say. “What do I get in return?” 

Answering that question about fifty different ways in his head, Tae decides none can be said out loud. He seriously needs to fucking reel himself in. Fourteen could return at any moment and the last thing Tae needs to have is a problem between his legs because you never make it easy for him. 

But rather than listening to his very rational thoughts and very logical brain, he instead decides to say fuck it, and croons in the voice that used to fluster you as a teenager. 

“What do you want in return, PG?” Hoping to soften you up, even the playing field a bit. 

And it works like a charm. 

Your body releases its tension on an exhale, your page is marked, book set to the side, and your legs extend and stretch before crossing at the ankle. It makes him wonder if your little girlhood crush on him still exists somewhere in the back of your mind. Probably not.

Scratch that. 

Definitely not.  

“What if I wanted a new nickname?” you ask.

Both his eyebrows raise in surprise. “What’s wrong with PG?”

“It makes me feel like I’m eleven,” you explain. And then hit him with a dose of his own medicine as you croon, “I’m not eleven anymore, Tae.”

No you sure as hell are not. And it kills him in a way that has him wanting to die over and over again. 

He could consider it. But he doesn’t think he’ll change it, not when PG can stand for so many wonderful things. Things you would never think he’d let it when addressing you. Things that would have Fourteen trying for drowning attempt number two thousand four hundred sixty three, and succeeding. 

“I’ll think about it—Fair?”

You ponder before agreeing. “Fair.”

“Now about those recommendations…” He reminds you, and that’s all it takes to get you going.

Fourteen comes out about ten minutes later, but by then, Tae has a new list of books to grab from the store, two laps under him with eight more to go, and you’re reading again—one bare leg bent at the knee he’s trying very hard to ignore when he comes up for air. 

By the time he’s due for another breather, you’re talking to your brother about plans for the weekend. 

“I’m going out early on Friday for Rei’s birthday, remember? And I’ll probably crash at her place after,” you say. 

Fourteen is sitting on the second lounge chair across from you, most likely playing a game on his phone if Tae had to guess. But at your reminder, your brother looks up.

“Fuck that’s right. Okay so no dinner then, I’ll just grab something on my way in.”

“Sounds good. What about tonight?”

Fourteen gives it about two seconds of thought. “How about Don’s?”

Your face lights up at the suggestion. “Fuck yes! I’ve been craving their milkshakes for like a week. Hey Tae!” you call to him. “Don’s for dinner? There’s a chocolate shake with your name on it if you’re down.”

Tae pushes himself out of the water onto the pavement and doesn’t miss the sly once over you give him while Fourteen chucks a towel at his chest, covering your eyes with his other hand. 

He catches the projectile before it can knock him back into the pool, and uses it to dry his hair.

“Dude! Seriously? Go find a fucking shirt or something, no one wants to see that.”

You swat your sibling’s hand away and give him a look that screams ‘grow up’ while Tae drapes the towel over her shoulders, a hand gripping at each end. 

“I’m only down if Dumbass is paying,” he says, smirking at your brother. 

“—What—”

“That sounds like an excellent idea,” you agree, holding out your hand in his direction. 

“—Hey wait a seco—”

Tae grabs and shakes just to watch the steam flee Fourteen’s ears at the contact. He meets your eyes conspiratorially, and you both nod before rushing Fourteen. 

“—You fuckers!—” is all he gets out before Tae and you are grabbing an arm and a leg each and throwing Fourteen’s fully clothed ass in the pool. 

He curses the both of you out several times as he treads, drenched and dripping, up the stairs and out of the water. Tae throws him the towel. 

“You’ll pay for that, Asshole,” Fourteen tells Tae, and Tae grins. 

“Oh, I’m counting on it. Worth it though.”

“And you!” Fourteen says, eyes on you. “What the fuck dude? The betrayal to your darling, one and only brother hurts. I’m wounded,” he lays it on thick, walking up directly beside you. 

You're a hairsbreadth too late to realize when he shakes his hair out directly over top of you and you shriek, pulling your knees up, protecting the book under your shirt and behind your legs at all costs.

“Fourteen! The book! I will kill you if you damage it!”

Fourteen chuckles. “Payback’s a bitch Little Sister.”

You sneer at him, checking your prized possession for injury. Not a scratch. 

“And sopping wet is your colour, Jackass.”

“Big words for someone who can just as easily be thrown in the pool.”

You pause. Eyeing him directly. 

“You wouldn’t.”

“Wanna bet?”

Your brother looks at Tae with an evil plot in his eyes and you screech as they both nod once. You drop your book behind you as they yank you up by your arms and fling you into the pool, too much momentum from them and not enough resistance from you leaving you matching your darling, one and only brother.

As you come up for air, two colossal splashes ricochet from the left and right. Tae and Fourteen having both cannonballed in on either side of you. You choke on splattered water for a second before you’re attacking them with splashes, merciless in your pursuit for revenge. 

“You both suck!” you half giggle half yell. 

“Yet you love us anyway!” your brother falsely—correctly—claims. 

You roll your eyes before trudging out, heavier and dripping with your soaked clothes.

And it's not until weekend plans are cast aside for current memories, Taehyung treating you all to dinner, and you treating everyone to milkshakes, that all is forgiven. 

It turns out Rei’s dad knows the manager of the most exclusive club in the city—Youth—and managed to call in a favour. So now you, her, and your other bestie, Lea, are all on the dancefloor to celebrate her birthday. 

Rei’s first request for the night besides not paying for a single drink, was to dress up in the hottest, sluttiest outfits the club's dress code would allow for. 

This, for you, meant a black, square necked, low cut, and thin strapped satin slip dress that hugged you in all the right ways, matching heels adored with ankle strap bows and a sultry makeup look. Lea chose a dark blue shimmery number with a high leg split, vibrant graphic eyeliner, and wedges, while the birthday girl found the skimpiest forest green mini dress you’ve ever seen paired with heels that wrap ribbons up her legs, and a subtle dewy look on her lids. 

She’s glowing, and needless to say, they both look hot and so do you. 

Rei’s second request for the night was to dance until you either collapsed or threw up, whichever came first. A goal you were all making a steady descent towards as the night progressed. 

That is, until your blood runs cold at the sight of your cheating ex boyfriend making his way through the crowd in a direct beeline towards you. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. 

You’re alone right now. Rei and Lea are taking a bathroom break. 

You insisted you’d be fine for ten minutes. It was just ten minutes. What could possibly go wrong in ten minutes?

But apparently god just loves to play jokes because here you are, three shots in, not emotionally prepared enough to be near him, let alone speak to him, and by yourself in this huge crowd of strangers while he’s making very good time on his route to you. 

Fuck! You do not want to deal with him right now or—fucking ever, actually. 

He’d cheated on you four times that he admitted too throughout your two and a half year relationship, all while faking being blindingly happy directly to your face. He’d lied to you and hurt you and made you wonder what you did wrong for him to do that to you. It took all of your third year of university and more therapy sessions than you care to admit to realize you were never the problem, and that he was a piece of shit. 

So, with the fifteen feet between you two quickly shrinking, you try your best to hide from him in the crowd, only to run directly into him when you duck past a fellow club goer. 

Son of a b—

“Heyyy Y/N, how’ve you been?” he says like he didn’t destroy your entire sense of self worth for a couple quick fucks. 

You want to down three more shots just to be able to puke all over him. Intentionally, you haven’t seen him in years and just the reek of his stale ass cologne has you close. 

“Fuck off Micah, don’t you have somewhere you need to be sticking your dick—like a garbage disposal?” You snark, doing your damndest to not let him get close. But the throng of bodies surrounding you have other ideas and you’re thrown against your least favourite person in existence.

Delusional as ever, Micah sleezes, “Doesn’t seem like you want me to leave just yet, Kitten,” and you shove him off you as hard as you can while bile rises at the horrible name you used to beg him not to call you. 

You need to get off the dance floor.

Now.

Before you can, Micah grabs your arm and he pulls you back into him, hard.

Tae watches you out of the corner of his eye, wondering why in the hell you came to this club, of all the clubs out there. 

The club he was at. Wearing that and truly testing the limits of his self control.

Music blasts through speakers that move the ocean on the dancefloor. Bodies sway like waves, some crashing into one another with teeth and tongues and passion, others pushing with the current, grinding and gripping and grabbing at anything they can get their hands on. The louder and faster the notes whirl over their swells, the harsher the storm rages on, people flowing in and out of the eye when needed. 

He’s sitting at a booth on a dais high enough to watch you in the hurricane whilst being out of eyesight, notably with one or two faces he barely recognizes enough to most likely be your friends. 

They appear to be currents. They drag you into deeper waters and you let them, helpless to their siren call. Leading you to your place amongst the sea life, and reveling in the way the melodies wash over you again and again with every song that plays. 

His eyes follow you as you dance, curious if Fourteen knows you’re here before flinging the thought out of his head as quickly as it entered. You’re grown now, don’t need protection anymore. A lesson he learned the day you returned from university after graduating. 

No longer his best friend's kid sister who they kept an eye on, but a woman who was and still is growing into herself beautifully. A woman who is steadfast, strong and more often than not, correct in her opinions. A woman who is well read and equally if not more so well spoken when she deigns to acknowledge his existence. A woman who knows how and when to turn all of that off in order to team up with him in a roast battle for the books against her brother. 

He thinks of that day as the beginning of his downfall. 

He can humbly admit that his intelligence, demeanor and education are things that have been nurtured into existence by his parents and carefully maintained by himself with practice and both mental and physical exercise. He takes care of himself, inside and out. Exercises regularly, eats well, has good hygiene. He’s level headed and patient. Respectful and responsible. Controlled and competent. 

He prides himself on these things. Actively works towards keeping them maintained. 

And yet. 

Somehow when it comes to you, he is little more than a single brain celled idiot. 

All of the things he uses to measure his self worth evaporate whenever you enter his field of vision and he becomes fucking ravenous. And all of his focus goes into controlling himself.

He’d never noticed before, never thought of you in the way he does now. How when your currents break from formation and head towards the bathrooms, their outgoing force creates a riptide that some fuckhead with a stupid haircut uses to sweep in and dance with you. 

But you push him away. 

He doesn’t get the memo, and the mophead tries his best to yank you out to sea again.

Magma flows through Taehyung's veins, thunder cracks in his ears and all he can think about is storming through the crowd to steal you from said fuckhead by claiming you for himself.

But he won’t. 

Can’t.

All because of his darling best friend. 

Fourteen doesn’t know about his feelings for you of course. And Tae rather likes being alive and in one piece, two things he most definitely would not remain should he act on any of these feelings.

You are wholly off limits, forbidden. A little too young, a little too immediately related to his best friend, a little too perfectly his fucking type. It kills him every time he can’t even look at you without Fourteen going into what he calls ‘asshole mode’. 

So you remain in his very close periphery. Untouchable to the fingertips he aches to caress you with as you dangle your existence in front of him. Your wicked tongue, your delicious intelligence, your sexy fucking legs—fuck!

He has to stop thinking about you like this.

But that only makes him want you more. 

It’s like the gods handcrafted you for him. Every piece, every detail of you immaculate, but he committed one to many sins in his past life, and now they’ve locked you away forever as punishment. 

You float across the night sky, stuck in a golden cell. Its fourteen bars hold you hostage amongst the stars, all while he’s chained to the bottom of the ocean floor gasping for air. 

But fuck the gods and fuck their gilded cages. 

He’d break from his chains, swim to the surface of the sea and grow wings. Would break your prison apart with the sheer force of his wanting, then drag you down to the depths if it meant he got to keep you for himself. 

He would. He really, really fucking would. If his world wouldn’t implode completely if he did. 

So he keeps these thoughts to himself. Forces them down as they try their damndest to bubble over and burn him, because they will if he lets them. If any of them get outside these little moments, the ones where he allows himself to feel, he would burn and burn and burn until there was nothing left. 

Therefore, Taehyung has never been more grateful that his best friend was stuck on the night shift while he watched you dance and enjoy yourself, because it granted him this sliver of time to pretend like your brother doesn’t exist. 

That you are something he could let himself have, if you wanted him to.

And he’s solid in his decision to only observe, to stay inside his little moment, until fuckhead doesn’t get the message for the third time and Taehyung is out of his seat before he can think. 

Because Fourteen isn't here. 

And old habits die hard. 

“What the hell? Let me go, Micah!” You see his eyes then, red rimmed and glazed. He definitely has more than one thing in his system as his grip on you hardens further. The more you struggle, the tighter he grasps and—ouch, ouch, ouch, yank, fuck! Ow!—it’s really starting to hurt. 

“Just give me one more chance Kitten, I promise I’ll do better,” he whisper in your ear over the music, and you cringe back from how loud he is. But that doesn’t stop him from continuing, “I fucked up, I know I did. But that was years ago, and I learned my lesson. Just one more chance Kitten, just one more, and I—I promise. I promise it won’t happen again. It won’t. I really miss y–AH! What the fuck!?”

The hand on your arm releases the second Micah yelps in pain. You look down to see familiar ringed fingers around Micah’s wrist, clutching so hard they’re white knuckled and skin bruising. 

A broad chest comes to rest at your back, and an arm snakes around you. Its large palm rests on your stomach and hip as it pulls you tightly against its owner. 

Words covered in sharpest ice are spoken from behind you, their baritone so recognizable they have you melting back into him. 

Safe. 

You’re safe. 

Exhale.

“Do. Not. Touch. Her.” Taehyung growls so deeply, so powerfully, you feel the rumble from behind his sternum reverberate into your body. 

Micah’s focus shifts from his wrist to the man several inches taller and several years his senior still holding it. You watch as his face contorts from pained to confused and then to murderous. 

“The fuck are you to tell me not to touch my girlfriend?” Micah seethes, and you stiffen because no the fuck you are not, and haven’t been for several years. 

How blitzed out of his mind is he right now?

You don’t even get the chance to deny his words before Taehyung’s on Micah like fire to dried grass.

“Don’t make me laugh, Asshole. No way in hell an pig faced looking fucker like you could pull a woman like her. Now,” Tae roughly shoves Micah’s hand back to him, and it forces Micah to stumble into the people behind with the force. “Get the fuck away from My Girl before I make you My Problem. And trust me,” Tae says in a tone so dangerous, you’ve never heard him sound so terrifying in the fifteen plus years you’ve known him, “You don’t want me to make you my problem.”

And you realize, that this isn’t the Taehyung you’ve grown up with; seen through his awkward teen years and watched come into his adult life with. This isn’t jazz music and poetry Taehyung. 

This Taehyung has only ever come out the handful of times you’ve ever been in trouble. The one who studied Judo with Fourteen growing up, the one who has his fourth Dan. 

The one who does not play when it comes to you and your safety. 

It’s enough to know that Taehyung is more than pissed off, and more than a little ready to beat the absolute shit out of Micah, if the whiskey on his breath says anything about his loosened inhibitions. 

Micah seems to sense this too, and decides to back off. But not without a stupid macho expression and two middle fingers directed at both of you as he disappears into the crowd, and out of sight. 

You can feel the tension radiating off Taehyung in waves, a coil so tightly wound that a gentle breeze could set him loose, so you turn around and attempt to safely unwind. His hand moves from your stomach to your lower back, and you ignore the trail of wildfire it leaves in its wake because Tae’s eyes haven’t wavered from the spot where Micah just stood. 

“Don’t.” You say, loud enough for him to hear. And his flame filled irises snap to yours, burning. “He’s not worth it.”

Your words seem to bring him back somewhat because Tae sniggers. “Damn right he’s not,” then softens. “Are you okay?”

You look anywhere but at him, the reality of the last three minutes crashing down onto your head like broken glass while the both of you are still caught in the middle of the dancefloor. 

The people around you seem to understand something’s happened, and you’re left mostly untouched aside from the gentle nudges of inebriated party goers whose balance isn’t the best at the moment. 

Like the mellowed waves in the eye of a storm.

Taehyung seems to make sense of this at the same time you do, and lifts his free hand for you to take. Slipping your fingers into his, he leads you to an unused and out of the way emergency exit hallway somewhere in the back of the club. It’s completely empty and dark, undisturbed besides the occasional server passing by. 

It’s private. 

It’s safe. 

You’re safe.

You’re safe.

He lets go of your hand and looks at you again. “Now, are you okay?” 

The adrenaline is wearing off, and you can feel yourself start to shake. You ignore it. Sort of.

“I’m okay,” you say. But he’s eyeing you suspiciously and rightly so, so you repeat yourself, trying to convince your own brain more than his right now. 

“I’m okay, really! I’m good. I’m–” you exhale a shaky breath and he doesn’t ask before pulling you to his chest. Wrapping both his arms around you, one around your back while the other holds your head protectively to him. Your own go around his waist as you grip him back tighter.

“I’ve got you,” he says.

“I’m okay,” you say again, muffled into his black high necked shirt, taking deep breaths of his soothing, familiar scent. You do it and again, and again. Repeating the pretty lie to yourself again and again until it becomes the truth. 

He doesn’t let go until you do, and you don’t let go until you’ve finally stopped shaking.

You look up into his eyes, and all signs of his previous wrath are gone. It seems the hug didn’t ground just you, it grounded him too. Got him out of the headspace that would’ve been required for action first, words later. But now the sun is back, it shines down on you, and you bask in its warmth. 

“I’m good now. Thank you,” you say in an even and unwavering voice, because you are. The panic and immense relief having washed over you, and you’re once again simply, pleasantly buzzed. 

Though you do have a new problem in the form of the warmth pooling low from the feeling of both his hands still on your lower back. 

You’re trying to convince yourself it’s his way of keeping you safe.

But the lock on your box has the key inside it, and it’s just begging for you to turn it. 

“Good,” he replies, still not letting go. And it’s chipping away at your sanity. “Who was that guy? I only caught the last bit of his pathetic ramblings.”

You wince. Due to a lovely combination of not being very active on social media, not being much of a picture taker, and the newly dyed hair Micah seemed to be sporting tonight, you’re not surprised Tae didn’t recognize him. 

“Ah. Uhm…That was...Micah,” you admit, unable to meet his eyes again. That’s when you notice his outfit tonight is all black. 

Oh you are so fucked.

 “As in Micah, Micah?” Tae asks neutrally, familiar with what your ex had done, just not what he looked like. 

“...Yeah...”

“I see.”

“Yeah...” You say again. Because what else could you say?

Tae cracks a smile. “Should’ve let me kick his ass. The balls on him not only to approach you, but to call you his—” he cuts himself off, biting the inside of his cheek before continuing in a hushed, caring tone. “After everything he’s done to you, you should’ve let me, PG. Consequences be damned.”

Your cheeks flame at the nickname so close to your ears. So tenderly said. And you honestly can’t tell if you still hate it in this moment, or if it’s only adding kindling to the fire his hands are fueling at the base of your spine. 

The new name he’d called you earlier, its ignition point. 

My Girl.

My Girl.

You swear, even in your panicked state, you’d momentarily forgotten how to breathe before inhaling far too much all at once. 

Fuck, what you won’t give to hear him say it again. But you’re 98.9% sure that’s the three shots of vodka talking. Trying their best to turn the damn key. And maybe they succeed in turning it half way—hell, maybe all the way, because you look him back in the eyes and hear yourself say,

“Maybe I should’ve, but I was far too distracted by the new nickname you finally gave me to give a single fuck about anyone else.”

The moment the last word is out Taehyung stiffens beneath your touch, fingers locked on your back, and you’re very pretty sure you just fucked absolutely everything up. 

Years of good behaviour, of keeping yourself in check. Of pockets of time and side long glances and knowing nothing would ever happen, stolen from you. By your own big, fat, adrenaline depleted, vodka loosened mouth. 

You're a second away from damage control before his grip shifts from your lower back to your hips. 

Higher. Tighter. Controlling. Oh fuck.

He leans down to murmur, “Liked the new name, did you?” in your ear.

Shivers shoot from your crown to your core and down to your toes. Having his deep, deliciously inviting voice so fucking close to your pulse point has you millimeters away from drowning in it. You know he can feel it course through you, just like you can hear the smile it makes him display away from your eyesight as he does. 

“You did then,” he responds for you, a cat toying with its meal as he lifts his head once more to look into your eyes. 

You don’t need a mirror to know the state of your pupils. Your gaze is glazed over in the sinful kind of way.

“I did,” you needlessly confirm, looking up into similarly blown out ones.

The fingers twined behind him release, and make their way around to his abdomen. They pause to splay for just a second at the defined ridges, before slowly crawling up his chest and meeting again at the nape of his neck. 

They play with the soft hair there, gently scratching their nails at the skin beneath where it grows and you watch as your ministrations cause his eyes to roll back, flutter shut, and his head to meet the wall behind him. A barely audible moan escapes the confines of his lips before he swallows,  the divine bob of his adams apple as he tries to regain his composure is the dawn of your undoing. 

“Fuck, PG that isn’t fair,” he groans towards the ceiling, his hands on your waist clamping down harder, pulling you so close your bodies touch in more places they definitely shouldn’t be. The contact has you reeling and all you want is more, more, more of it. 

More of him.

“PG isn’t the name you called me earlier,” you hum, yanking on a single loose strand and Tae sucks in a steep breath, biting the corner of his smirking lip with a canine. 

You want to hear him say it again. Badly. So you release the sensual grip you have on his nape, and let his head lul slowly back down to where it was, his deepening amber wholly fixated on your now entirely onyx. Your heart is begging for release from your chest, and for a moment you wonder if he can see your pulse thrumming in your eyes, because you sure as hell can feel it.

“No, it’s not. But it also hasn’t meant to me what it means to you for quite some time now,” his voice like honey, thick and dripping its way over your body. It’s making you dizzy and weighty with want. It has your mouth opening slightly as he leans closer still, knocking his nose gently with your own. Inhaling in your exhales. Teasing you. Making you work for it. 

“And what does it mean to you?” you ask, barely above a whisper, irises never straying from his as your bottom lip brushes against his in one solitary, intoxicating moment that has you more buzzed in one touch than three shots has had you all night. 

“Pretty Girl,” he breathes onto your lips, pushing his thigh between your legs at the same time he pulls you impossibly closer. You hear yourself moan ‘fuck’ at the contact it gives your throbbing cunt. Too focused on the need coursing through you like a live wire—your body pure water—to think about what you’re saying.

It’s a sweet sound and a violent pleasure he devours as his lips finally, finally, finally crash into yours, pinning you in place and allowing him to take every piece of you he wants. One hand slithers up your naked spine to hold you, your backless dress doing you every favour imaginable as his other continues to help you grind over his thigh.

His tongue slips into your mouth and you suck on it, causing him to jerk into you once with the rapidly growing want pressing into your lower belly. But your hands hold firm at his neck as you pull him into you, a knee lifting to meet his hip. Needing more contact.

The electricity filled pathways his fingers leave down your back, over your ass and across the bottom of your thigh to support your search for pleasure do nothing but spur on the overwhelming need to touch him everywhere. 

No holds barred. No clothes worn. Nothing stopping you. 

He uses his new grip to spin you around and press his hips into yours as your shoulders meet the wall. You’re left to moan sickly sweet sounds of bliss into his ear as Taehyung frees your mouth in favour of your jaw and neck, sucking gentle purple hues down the column of your throat and onto your collarbone. 

“Pretty Girl,” he whispers between love bites, “My Pretty Girl.” Over and over and it has you melting so far into him, the only thing keeping you apart is fabric and a potential audience. Though from the colour you’re going to have to cover with far too much concealer tomorrow, you don’t think he quite cares about that last part. 

It drives you farther into insanity. Years of want and restraint and pretty white lies you told yourself are crashing down on one another and it shows in the fervor of your touch, your wants, your pleads.

“Fuck, Tae—please. Please, I need you— please,” you beg, and the bite he leaves at the junction where your neck meets your shoulder has you gasping for air that refuses to be consumed gently. 

But Taehyung is a man on a mission. One who will not be deterred, and you can’t tell if he will be your pinnacle or your inevitable end. 

With what is very clearly great effort, Tae pulls himself back from your decolletage, only to kiss your lips once more. Open mouthed and dirty, tongue clinging to you like the only thing he’s concerned about is swallowing down as much of you as he can while you’ll let him, and you’ve never felt more desired in your life.

He’s hoarse as he says, “Not here. Not for the first time. Not…not here.” 

“Then where,” you ask, near impatient and far too eager as you let your hands roam wherever they want. And you find your thumbs tracing the waistline of his pants, dipping a nails width below where they should. They trail over the indented V of muscle you know is hiding under his shirt. He shudders. 

It makes you smile wickedly. 

“Then where, Taehyung,” you murmur into his neck with that wicked smile in your words as you trace your nose along his jaw. 

“Fuck, you’re something,” he says, almost pained, bringing you immense delight. To know you affect him as much as he does you. That you have him as much as he has you. 

Sly hands slowly pull his shirt from his trousers in an attempt to urge him on. It works, and his response is quick. 

“My place. It’s a ten minu—fuck PG,” he almost scolds as your digits toy with the hair at his navel, dipping lower—enough to feel the beginnings of something—but not low enough to discern anything. 

Yet.

 “Can you behave for that long?” 

You smirk. 

Retracting your hands, you hold them up to show you can be good, do a quick once over to make sure you're decent and spin on your heel to walk towards your booth. Tae is behind you immediately, hand placed low on your back, thumb rubbing circles on the sliver of skin it touches. You ignore the goose bumps that arise.

Rei and Lea are at your table, thankfully. You explain to them you ran into Micah and that it really shook you, so Tae’s going to take you home. They know who Tae is, so they’re not worried when they give you goodbye hugs or when they tell you to text them when you're home safe. 

You promise you will, and hope that the rest of Rei’s birthday goes well. 

True to his word, it’s a ten minute rideshare before you’re pulling up to a tall, black windowed apartment building.

You’ve only been to Tae’s a handful of times with your brother, mostly for things like pick ups for concerts and such, but now that you’re here—alone with him—you’re trying hard not to jump him in the fucking lobby. 

The pulsing between your legs has only worsened since you removed your hands from his waistline, and you’re close to crawling out of your skin with need. 

His hand stays in its place at your lower back as the elevator climbs. 

It’s not helping and completely helping at the same time.

Fuck.

Tae lives on the sixteenth floor and the view is incredible. It’s the first thing you see past the island when you walk in the front door. There’s the kitchen to the left past the entrance, which turns into the living space that’s furnished in a way you can only describe as pure Tae. 

Books littering every surface, warm neutral toned furniture to counterbalance the colourful artwork he keeps on the walls. There’s an old record player with a collection of vinyls in the corner and what you assume is this morning's coffee mug on the art book filled coffee table.

To the right of the living space is the bedroom. It’s a studio apartment, but Tae’s managed to keep the flow of the place beautifully with some creatively put, gorgeously decorated room dividers. And the tall floor to ceiling windows wrap around it all, showcasing the lights of the city as they blend into the stars in the night sky. 

Mesmerizing. 

Just like the man locking his door behind you.

A kiss is placed on the back of your neck as you slide out of your shoes at the front door. You angle your head to allow more space, letting the arm that folds around you bring you closer to him. The feel of his arousal begins to grow behind you once more and you push back against him. A faint grunt meets the shell of your ear before his hand delicately slides up from your lower stomach and past your sternum. It teases your neck for just a moment before it meets your jaw to turn your lips towards his. 

He captures them in a brutal kiss, drinking you in for all you’re worth and then some as his other hand replaces the one that now holds your jaw in place. He pulls you into him but you spin in his hold, throwing your arms around his neck once more and dragging him towards the living space. He sheds his jacket in the process, uncaring of where it lands on his floor so long as you are still kissing him. 

You only stop when your ass meets the top of the couch and Taehyung palms the back of your thighs to lift you, your legs wrapping themselves around his hips as you sit on its edge. 

He growls at the contact and it has you raking your nails down his neck and over his shirt as you open for him once more, tongues clashing and teeth scraping at the desperate nature you both share. You yank his shirt up and he breaks from your embrace for only the amount of time it takes for the fabric to hit the floor before he’s back on you, adding twin bruises to the other side of your throat. 

You let the strings holding up your dress fall naturally to the side, revealing your chest to him, and a  low, “Fucking hell,” is murmured somewhere below your ear before a nipple is in his mouth and you’re arching into his touch, slices of need shooting straight downwards. Giving no mercy to your attempts to draw out the pleasure. 

One large hand cups a breast, molding it to his wanting before he switches and you’re groaning into the air above you, begging him for more, determined to have his tongue anywhere and everywhere you can get it. He lavs at your peaked bud, roaming over the sensitive flesh, making you squirm at the sensations he’s drawing from you. 

You never want it to end as he makes his way back up to your mouth, dragging his bottom lip over all of the freshly deepend skin it trails in its wake, making you hazy with the feel of him and his marks. 

His delicate touch wanders the insides of your thighs and your cunt aches for it the higher it climbs. But it slides up not down, reaching around to your ass and hoisting you onto his hips. 

Turning, he walks the eight paces to his bed, places a knee on the mattress for support before setting you down. His lips never leave yours he crawls over you, settling his hips over yours for mere moments, allowing you to thrust only twice before he’s removing himself completely and sinking to his knees. 

The fingers you’ve spent way too much time thinking about can’t get enough of your skin as they skate down your sides, taking the dress bunched at your hips with them. You raise your hips to help him get the scrap of fabric off, leaving a delicate, black lace thong the only thing keeping any of your remaining modesty intact.

You watch as his now fully blackened gaze takes you in, jaw dropped in slight at the sight of you with your legs opened on his bed. Like you were the prize he’s been waiting years to claim, and now that you're here and that you’re his his, he can’t quite believe it. 

It’s then you realize that he wants you, and has been wanting you. That your attempts to stay in reality these last couple years weren’t just harder for you, but for him as well. 

It hasn’t been one sided.

He wants you. 

Taehyung. 

Off limits, older brother’s best friend, swim club participating, jazz and poetry loving, judo knowing, book gifting, perfect smile having, protective, Taehyung. 

Wants you. 

You can physically feel the gush that rushes from your core at the thought and you know Tae can see it through the lace.

“Holy fuck…you’re fucking drenched and I haven’t even properly touched you yet,” he rasps, unbelieving. 

“Then touch me and find out just how much I want this,” you whisper. Begging, pleading, praying your words have their intended effect. “How much I want you, Taehyung.”

The sound that leaves his throat is a mixture of a whimper, a groan, and a guttural noise indicative of pure desperate want as he takes hold of your legs and spreads them further. Those mother fucking fingers trace from your ankles to your knees accompanied by the occasional light kiss, back up your inner thighs, and finally to the spot where you’ve been weeping for him for the better part of thirty minutes with a heaping side of ten years yearned. 

He places one open mouthed kiss on the top of your clothed clit and that simple touch has you arching, lightning crackling through your veins with the pleasure it brings. Tae slides one single finger down your covered slit before pushing it under and pulling it to the side. 

At the mere sight of you he’s swearing so fiercely under his breath that you involuntarily clench and he can’t fucking take it anymore.

His mouth is on you and you buck at the sensation. Yielding you no mercy, his tongue swipes from opening to clit in one long lick that has you gasping, clutching bed sheets above and below your head to keep from screaming. 

“Oh my—Fuck—Tae. Ohmygodohmy—” you’re rambling. Incoherent. A mess. 

He’s consuming your very being, no nerve left untouched, no reaction too minimal for his learning as he snakes his hands around your legs to haul you closer, pull you deeper into his mouth and you can’t fucking take it. You’re screaming out at the intensity he circles you with, and you can feel your impending orgasm come rushing to the surface. You’ve barely even processed it’s begun before you’re spasming so hard Tae has to remove an arm from your leg to throw around your pelvis. 

His devious fucking eyes meet yours for one earth shattering moment as he slips two fingers inside and begins a secondary merciless pursuit on your already overwhelmed senses. Using the pads to press upwards in time to the motions he never ceased with his tongue, a second wave is cresting before the first has ceased and you feel yourself clamping down, legs holding him in place as the intensity of your release climaxes. 

You’ve never felt a pressure so intense before, it’s like your body is a volcano and you’re erupting for the first time while someone sets off fireworks from its peak. The lava flows in waves, your hand holding his hair as you ride his face, shuddering at the vibrations his moan into your cunt leaves on the most sensitive parts of your body. 

Gentle strokes and licks calm as your pleasure begins to wane and you can breathe in more than just stuttered inhales again. 

“Holy fu–” you try to get out, but your voice is hoarse, like you’ve been screaming the entire time. 

And fuck, maybe you have been. You sure as hell can’t remember or think of anything more than the warm fuzzy feeling currently radiating from every single pore in your body. The damningly  deliciously dizzying feeling in your head not allowing for coherent thoughts to pass. Your limbs are loose, your body wholly relaxed. 

You’re…Well. You’re fucking perfect right now. If you could stay in this moment forever you would without second thought. Locked in this room with him for all time sounds like the best way to live out the rest of your days.

Until you wince as Tae blows warm breath on your core and he chuckles, then does it again. 

“Hey,” you say, sounding much clearer now, “Stop that and come here.”

You slip your hand down his face and grab him by the jaw, pulling him up and over you. Tae tastes like fire and whiskey and ambrosia and you as you kiss him with abandon, near feral as you take what you want from him and he revels in it. 

He’s on his elbows and a knee over you, and you use it to your full advantage to palm him over his pants and—Fuck he’s big. No wonder he was so thorough on you. This is going to hurt no matter how much prep either of you did.

He hisses at the contact and that only spurs you on, grasping firmly at his base and roving up and over the head with the heel of your palm, squeezing gently in time with his reactions.

“Christ PG, if you keep doing that I’m going to cum in my pants,” Tae laughs into your neck before rising to sit back on his heels. He gets as far as undoing his belt buckle and button before you take over, sitting up and pulling him out. 

He is disastrously beautiful, just like the rest of him, and your mouth waters at just the idea of him in your mouth. 

Licking your lips, you hear him curse quite colourfully as you take the tip into your mouth and swish your tongue over the head. Once. Twice. Thrice. 

Tae raises one hand to his eyes and the other behind him to hold him up as you take him deeper, shaking from restraining himself so hard, murmuring to himself, “Oh fuck. Fuck me, can’t believe—so fucking good, pretty—perfect—ohmygod,” and you seal the motherfucking deal by taking him into the back of your throat and looking up into his eyes at the same time. 

Taehyung barks and bucks once into your throat before removing himself and throwing you down onto the bed. He looks furious in the way that gets your heart racing, your cunt thrumming and your breathing so fast your chest feels like it might shatter from the crosscurrents. 

He grabs each of your hands and raises them above your head, sliding his fingers up your wrists and between your own, holding them in place on his pillow.

Leaning down, he uses his lowest timber to speak darkly into your ear, teasing your swollen clit with the tip of his cock. Sliding back and forth, sending bolts of white hot need through you. 

“You drive me fucking insane,” he starts, thrusting, teasing, torturing. And you moan at the contact. 

“You make me want to throw away a decades old friendship just for the chance to touch you.” 

Thrust, tease, jolt, whine. 

“And what’s worst of all is you’re the best thing I’ve ever tasted, the most beautiful I’ve ever seen, and you turn me into a complete idiot the second you enter the room. It’s like your fucking presence takes away all the working functions in my brain and leaves me with only the incurable fucking desire to make you cum until you can’t remember you own fucking name. Only mine.”

Thrust, squeeze, glide, jolt. “Tae...” you whine, delirious with pleasure, drunk on his greed and  delighted by his torture.

“I call you PG because it’s the only way I can get away with calling you anything more than your name around him.” He sounds almost angry with how low he growls. “And it means so much more than you could think.”

He leans further into you, so close now that his lips brush your ear as he speaks. 

“My Pretty Girl,” thrust, “My Precious Girl,” moan, “My Perfect Fucking Girl.” 

He releases one hand to line himself up with your entrance. “That’s who you are to me. That’s what I’m calling you when I call you PG. My Pretty, Precious, Perfect Girl. My Girl.” He slips past your walls, sinking deep and you both groan in euphoric unison. “Mine.”

Tae pulls out, slow and controlled. 

Blissful. 

Then pushes back in, methodically. 

Torturous. 

Feeling every inch you can take, which is every single fucking one.

Inevitable.

Bottoming out for the second time, you whisper, “Yours,” into his ear, and he turns fucking ravenous.

Setting an absolutely ruthless pace, he claims your body, taking what’s so clearly always been his. Your legs wrap around him again, digging a heel into his ass as you drive him closer, harder with every push. Then lay claim to the one thing you’re able to, taking his lips with yours and biting down hard enough to draw the most sinful groan from the back of his throat. Hoarse, deep, almost broken with how raw it is. 

One hand bruises its fingerprints into your hip while the other holds him up over you, and you use this to your advantage, slipping one leg around his and flipping the both of you over. 

You trail your tongue down his jaw to his clavicle, he tastes of sweat and lust and sex and it is the most intoxicating thing you’ve ever consumed. Creating your own gardens of little blooming flowers down one side of his neck and up the other, Taehyung moans greedily into your ear as your ride to match his thrusts, sending him deeper while you decorate your willing canvas. 

Because as much as he wishes to lay claim to your body, you want to claim his as well. 

“Mine,” you say, positioning yourself to take over completely, using the springs of the mattress to do most of the work for you. 

“Yes,” he says. But that’s not good enough. 

“Mine,” you demand, and let loose, pressing down on the mattress with your knees rapidly, creating the glorious effect you wanted. You watch as the up force from the mattress causes Taehyung to be driven into you so quickly he throws his head back, mouth dropped in pure ecstasy. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, YN, What the fuck—” he rambles, lost to the pleasure, biting his lip, going slackjawed, clenching and unclenching his fists into bedsheets that already have your handprints seared into them.

And you keep going, a little torture creation of your own. 

“Mine,” you demand again, and this time, it clicks.

“Yours! Fuck, yours. All yours, only yours,” he surrenders and you slow back down to a regular pace, breathless. 

It’s a great move but it’s exerting. 

You all but collapse on his chest and he takes over, thrillingly pissed off due to your power play. 

“So that’s how it’s going to be?” he asks, and you clench at his tone. 

He removes himself and you whimper, but he’s maneuvering you like a ragdoll on the bed and you’re more than fucking willing to be thrown around. 

He’s kneeling on the bed, lifting your hips and sliding into you in a doggy style, but then he’s doing the most insane thing you think you’ve ever seen. With an arm around your stomach he brings your back to his torso and twists you both to face the open floor to ceiling windows. One of your legs is thrown over his that’s up to splay you wide for the skyline to see, and you can see your reflection in the glass. 

You look beyond fucked out, and so does he, and it’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen. But then his hand is sliding to your throat, and a whispered, “Is this okay?” finds your ears. You nod.

Gripping the sides of your throat, he slides his other hand to graze your clit before beginning his own version of the move you just pulled. Pumping into you at a pace that has your g-spot screaming from all of the attention it’s receiving, his fingers swiping deftly over the bundled nerves at the apex of your thigh whilst lightly cutting off the blood supply to your brain. 

It has you twitching and hazy and dizzy in seconds. You can see yourself losing to the feeling so steadily building at the base of your spine in the glass. Mouth open, body willing, the man who’s been at the center of your wanting for longer than you can remember, its deliverance. 

Dark, sex tousled hair, muscled forearms holding you up and driving you insane. Blackened eyes focused on you and only you through the mirror the darkness of the night’s sky has created for you. 

It’s that visual that sets you over the edge when he releases your throat, and you feel a gush flowing from where you two meet.

“Fuuuck yes. My Perfect Girl, cum all over my sheets, drench my cock. That’s it,” he purrs in your ear and it’s doing nothing but sending shock after shock into your already over sensitive and pulsing cunt, letting your consciousness float somewhere above or below you, you don’t really care. 

All you know is that you feel light as a feather and not of this earthly plane. 

Taehyung removes himself and lies you down gently. He’s back inside soon after and it just feels right as he fills you, like it’s where he’s meant to be. 

He hovers over you once more, and you lift a single knee to his hip, mimicking your position from the club as he thrusts into you with fervor, chasing his own high after delivering three mind shattering ones to you. 

Reaching one hand to his cheek, you hold him as he kisses you, working himself to completion. 

Using your other to deliver a few expert circles to your clit, so you can come together, you breathe in each other's release and  drown in once another’s embrace. 

You leave his name on your tongue this time. A gift. A cry so delicate that a tear falls from your cheek and he kisses it away.

Taehyung inhales sharply, before stuttering his exhale and an exquisite warmth fills you.

“F-f-uu-ckkk,” he shudders as he lets the aftershocks of his release claim you in the most basic and animalistic of ways. You drink in the vulnerable sound, taking his mouth with yours one final time as you bask in each other's pleasure. Silent but for catching breaths, exertion evident as you hold one another. 

Taehyung rests on your chest. Lines are sketched gently with your nails up and down his spine and into his hair as he comes down, content in the afterglow, where nothing is wrong and everything is perfect. 

Before consequences kick in and regrets form. 

When he decides he’s ready, Tae lifts and removes himself from you and you can feel the remnants of your combined efforts slide down to the bedsheets. 

Tae takes a single finger and gathers it up before pressing it back in. You hiss at the now tender flesh. Though the pain doesn’t stop the warmth newly pooling at the sight and feel and meaning. 

He pumps it back in once, twice before removing his finger and placing it in his mouth to clean off. Your cunt flutters at the sight and Tae smirks, leaning forward to share his findings with you in the form of a filthy, open mouthed, tongue filled kiss. It’s slightly salty, slightly metallic but you pull him back for one last lick when he tries to pull away. 

Watching him kneeling there, in the glow of moonlight, you realize just how truly beautiful he is. The shape of his illuminated profile, the expanse of his chest as he breathes in, the colour of his skin under silver rays. He’s stunning. 

You smile up at him, spent, sated and so astronomically fucked if your brother ever finds out. 

Tae must see the thought on your face, because he says, “Don’t worry about him. I’ll handle it.”

But you honestly don’t give a fuck about that right now. That’s a tomorrow issue. What you want to know is, “Did you mean it?”

“Mean what, exactly?” He specifies. 

You sit up, eye to eye as he sits on the edge of the bed, one leg on the ground. 

“All of it. Any of it.”

There. 

Now it was out in the open. And the rest is up to him. 

You could drag yourself back down to reality. Chalk this night up to booze and bad timing and perfect timing. Could convince yourself it was just one night and that it would have to be enou—

“All of it,” he interrupts, the most sincere expression you’ve ever seen on him on full display. “Definitely all of it. Every last fucking word.”

You slump on your exhale, so fucking relieved you didn’t have to keep trying to lie to yourself that you could forget this happened. 

You’re laughing before you can fight it off, shoulders shaking. Smiling so wide it hurts. 

“Uh..YN?” Tae asks, clearly not sure how to take your reaction and you compose yourself. 

“That’s PG to you,” you say as you crawl onto his lap, and kiss him into oblivion. 

It’s interesting to finally sit on the dock across the way in East Egg. 

The fog is gone, the sky is a brilliant blue, and the little box you kept sits open next to you, the lock and its key lost somewhere to the depths below your feet. Funny how harmless it seems now that there’s nothing locked inside anymore, like it could never really have hurt you in the first place. 

You take in your newly emptied creation, and quirk a brow when you see it move. 

A wiggle at first, before it’s shaking and spinning and shrinking, turning from a box into a glass windowed locket. Golden and delicate and beautiful, with a matching chain. You ponder for a moment what it could be for, before turning to look down at the green light to your right. 

An idea strikes. 

Unclasping the little window, you lift the opened pendant to the green light. And to your delight, the emerald hue hops into its new home, closing its tiny windowed door. 

You smile at the clever little light, lacing the chain around your neck, resting it on the middle of your sternum, right above your heart. Its brilliant hue shining brightly through the pane for all to see.

Funny how the green light you so longed for, longed for you back, and is now yours for keeps.

A/N 2.5: This is what has been rotting in my brain for the better half of two weeks so please enjoy, it was supposed to be short and trope filled to cure my writers block but apparently I am incapable of short. But trope filled it clearly is. Overall tho, I'm quite pleased with this one.

A/N 3: As always, thanks for reading, loves. Xoxo, - Yoon <3

Masterlist

[is-not-a-bell]

Ghost blobs lead someone to Danny

(There is a part 2 now)

Batman froze at the floating blob, nearly the same color of lauzus waters and glowed even brighter. It seemed to notice him and ziped over to him at an alarming speed. Batman tensed ready to strike. But the thing just hovered in front of him and humming? It sounded desperate and worried, despite sound completely inhuman. His lack of response on seemed to increase the noise it made now make odd movements in one direction.

Before he could blink suddenly he was swarmed with the things. Some started pushing at his back and face. Others grabbed at his cape and tried tugging him forward. All of them humming the same desperate tune. Against his better judgement, a feeling in his chest told him to follow. "Alright" He whispered to the odd blobs. "Lead the way." Several bolted away as he chased behind them. A few stayed with him flying next to him or tucked into his cape.

He followed them over buildings until they reached a warehouse district. He was lead to an area designated for demolition. Finally the blobs float to the ground stoping at a warehouse with a door left ajar.

When Batman pushed the doors open he saw nothing, he stood still for a moment. He nearly thought it was a trap. Before the familiar gentle push urged him on. The ones leading him before flew behind a pile of trash and just barely he could see a faint glow behind it.

When Batman walked behind the trash pile, he froze. A dozen more blobs were there all crowding around a dimly glowing child. The white haired child was curled up and seemed to be bleeding lauzrus green. Batman rushed over and grabbed the child's wrist to feel for a pulse. His heart lurched when he found one, and it lurched again when the boy moved. He whimpered and weakly tried pulling away.

He sprang into action and pulled the boy to himself. He grabbed his bandages and gently uncurled the boy to see his wounds. He froze again at the Y-shaped cut on his chest and the countless other cuts left on him. "Please- please stop." Batman snapped back to when the boy spoke. "It's alright, you're safe now." He said softly, he wrapped the boy up as best he could. "What's your name?" He asked as he gently picked the boy up.

The boy was humming like the blobs he realized, it was far weaker like a buzzing in his hands. "Danny" The boy replied, Batman nearly didn't hear him. "I'll keep you safe Danny, I promise." At that Danny seemed to relax and melt into him. Batman called the Batmobile.

The blobs followed them outside a few seemed to fly away before coming back. Like they were patrolling the area. Others were comforting Danny, rubbing up against him or humming a different sound possibly to reassure him. "What are they?" Batman asks, hoping to get some information before the boy could pass out. "Blob ghosts." He muttered.

"Ghosts?"

"It's what I am, but I'm really bad at it" Danny mumbled the last part to himself but Batman caught it. A ghost entity? It would explain the lack of a pulse and even the wounds. A ghost haunted with his own autoposy scars. Before he could ask more the bat mobile stopped in front of them.

Batman hopped inside and gently place Danny in the passenger seat, buckling him in. The blob ghosts followed tucking into the back in a quick flurry. And like that Batman set off. He called Alfred. "Alfred, prepare the medbay. I have a severely injured unknown."

"Right away"

Batman barely managed to keep the boy awake all the way to the Batcave. Batman tries to ignore Alfred's shocked face as he sees Danny and the swarm of blob ghosts that follow them. "You didn't say they were this unknown."

"Danny says that they are 'blob ghosts' and claims he is a ghost as well. But that he is bad at it some how." Batman explained as they rushed to the medbay. When Batman set the boy down a white ring of light appeared around the boy it split and passed over him. They were left with a very human looking boy who was now bleeding red, mixing in with the green.

He and Alfred shared a look of shock. Before having to push the feeling away to help the boy.

[petew21-blog]

Family swap: Boys just wanna have fun!

My name is Robert Philip Cornell. I come from a very succesful family of lawyers. And in order to honor my family's legacy I continued in this tradition. Therefore I hope that one of my sons, preferably both, will continue this path as well. Unfortunately my twins, Richard and Philip, are very much like me and their mother. Inteligent, very good looking and thanks to our wealth, powerful. And they know how to use that. But sometimes I wonder if they should appreciate our legacy more than they do now. If you asked me right now and I answered that they were high, drunk or fucking someone, I'd definitely hit atleast one of the three if not all of them.

I was in Johannesburg to help close a company I represent a great deal. After signing we ended having a few coctails and then I left the group to my hotel room. Suddenly a WhatsApp message came to my mobile phone. From my wife Anna

"I'm sorry for interupting your meeting. Call me asap when you're free. It's the boys"

Oh god. What now? I dialed my wife's phone number

Anna:"Hey love. How was the meeting?"

Robert:"Hi, all went well. What's happening?"

Anna:"Philip took the boat. Richard covered him and as soon as the boat left the harbour he followed him. They just wanted to trick me. So now they're once again having a party on the sea, absolutely high as always. I just hope the cost guard will be understanding once again"

Robert:"Honey. I know you mean well with them, but I think it's time"

Anna:"Robert no. You can't be serious. Don't you remember what happened with your father and you when you two did this? Your father wanted to 'teach you a lesson', then you spent a shit ton of money and almost destroyed his reputation."

Robert:"And look where it got me. I know that the boys will understand eventually"

Anna:"So what are you gonna do? It wouldn't be fair to swap only one of them and there isn't another male figure left in your family to swap them with"

Robert:"I wasn't thinking of a male figure to be honest"

Anna:"Are you crazy? One of my sons in my FEMALE body? Robert, I don't think I'm comfortable with that. I can't imagine one of them treating my body decently"

Robert:"I am not happy with one of them ruining my image too or even treating my and yours body, but I believe that they will learn the lesson soon enough. Besides, wouldn't you wanna take those two teen hormonal bodies for a spin?"

Anna:"You're a tease Robert... when?"

Robert:"How about right now? I am in a hotel room. So let's say, Richard can try to get out of South Africa back home and Philip now can try to figure out and stress alone in your body on an island, how to get their original bodies back"

Anna:"Robert... you're evil. Then I am looking forward to see you in a minute"

Robert:"See you soon, my love"

A few minutes passed since Robert wanted to write down some instructions and so did Anna

Richard and Philip were on a yacht, blasting music and approaching the beach of the city they were headed to. Suddenly a text message sound. Philip opened the message first. It said:"Since you boys want to be on your own and enjoy everything life has to offer, we give you our bodies to take care of and with them the duties of maintaining our family image. Yes, you now have to work, yes you have to provide for the family. And yes, one of you will be a female. Treat our bodies with respect and we will do the same."

Philip:"Dude is dad tripping? What the hell is that?"

Richard:"I think I'm too high for this, bro"

A very nauseating feeling that didn't originate from the waves of the sea sweat through the two teens. Both trying hard not to vomit

Richard's P.O.V.

The feeling passed. There was a bright artificial light around him and he felt water coming down his chest. Wait what? How did he get in the shower? Was he that high that he didn't even remember the boat landing, the party or anything?

Richard looked down on his chest

"What the fuck?!?" a deep voice echoed the walls of the shower

"Philip? Did you bleach my chest hair? They're grey you fucker. And what the hell happened to my voice? I sound like dad."

I wasn't paying much attention to myself and what was actually happening. I just took a towel, exitted the shower and tried to find out where the hell I was. I looked around and couldn't find much. It was a pretty normal hotel room, on the bed I saw my fathers briefcase and his clothes. There was a note on the bed:"Wanted to hand you everything clean and ready. BEHAVE and don't ruin my body! Love, dad"

"What the actual fuck is this?"

The reality was starting to him the. The text message, the note, the chest hair. I was scared to look in the mirror, but there was no other way of knowing

"You son of a bitch!" he really did it. My new reflection wasn't the one I was used to, but seemed like my much older one and a but distorted along with a beard. My father is a very handsome man, I have to give him that. But it is very different from the point of view of his son. Your parents aren't suppose to be hot, they're disgusting to you no matter how they look. Yet here I was standing, watching my father's muscular, grey-haired torso. His veins on his biceps. His piercing eyes that I knew very precisely, cause these ones were the ones that raised me. The ones that always seemed the most disappointed.

But now. I was behind these eyes. And my father did this to me on purpose. He wanted to give me another life lesson. "You know what dad? Fuck you!"

I dropped the towel I put around my waist before to reveal a hairy flacid dick. Ew, I never thought I would see my father's dick from this point of view. We'll here we are. But it's not bad to be honest. Might give it a little trim and the chicks would dig it.

I took a second before doing that to really think hard. I had to look away from the mirror causing watching my father jerk off wasn't something I would get off to daily. But watching this nice cock get hard in my hands as I was palying with these hairy balls and the foreskin, that was something. Looking down I was really proud. I am still muscular, I look amazing and I got a nice dick. Doesn't matter what dad does to me. I'll enjoy this punishment.

I grabbed my new dick hard. I squeezed it until I felt pain. And then I started jerking it. I spit in my hand and played with the head, almost instantly. I stopped and resumed jerking. I was hairy everywhere. I wasn't used to that. I wasn't even thinking about this body as my father's anymore.

My right hand was curious enough to get into the jungle between my buttcheeks. And what a jungle it is. I spit into that hand as well.

"Sorry, daddy. Boys just wanna have fun"

I pushed one finger inside. I could that this body has never experinced that. I'll enjoy that even more. I pushed in another finger and then kept on pushing until I couldn't. I felt my new prostate. So sensitive! I pushed and pulled. Almost forgetting to jerk off at the same time. I got in sync and could only scream in pleasure. I was so close. I could feel the sensation building up. If I were in my body I would stop to take care of the mess in time. But I didn't care. I let it pour outside off me. The cum got into my chest hair and on my abs. I let out a sight of relief

Collapsed on the bed, I noticed dad's phone lighting up. Mom was calling. Wait, is it really mom or is Philip also swapped? I gotta know. I took the phone to my ear and answered

Philip:"Those fuckers. What are we gonna do about them?"

Richard:"I don't know about you, but I just had the best orgasm in my life"

Philip:"You're so disgusting Rich, that's our fathers body, you know that?"

Richard:"Yeah, but that didn't stop me. And I don't think you should stop either. The women say that their orgasm is so much more intense, so now you'll know"

Philip:"I don't know if I am ok with that. It's our mother's pussy, bro"

Richard:"Yeah and? I just fingered our father ass. Suck it up big boy. I'll send you a location. I'll take a plane and we'll meet there?"

Philip:"You're nasty bro. See you there I guess. Wait, wait do you know what is this tiny weird thing sticking out at the top of the vagina?"

I packed my fahter's things and set off to meet my bro, or wife?. I went to the local mall and slightly altered my visage. Do you think they'll let me inside of the plane like this? Oh and one tiny request I gotta send to our butler

Robert and Anna's P.O.V.

Anna:"I must admit, Robert, I haven't felt so full off energy in ages!"

Robert:"That might be the drugs the boys took, haha"

Anna:"No, seriously. The boys got great bodies, but our bodies aren't as much vital as these ones. We have to go do something!"

Robert:"How about we continue in the plans that the boys had? Might be fun"

We arrived to an empty beach with no one in sight.

Robert:"Did you check the coordinates?"

Anna:"Sorry, dear but I am still very high. I am still surprised we didn't crash the boat"

Robert:"Haha. It's so funny to see Philip call me honey. Haha, jesus. I think I am still also high"

Anna:"Wanna maybe lie down here and just... chill. Or how do the kids these days call it?"

Robert:"Haha. 'Kids these days'. Philip looks like a nostalgic senior now"

Anna in Philip's body laughed. "Yeah and what are you? A teen king who knows all the trends?" she ran up to him and pushed him on the ground

Both boys's bodies still very high. They very playfully fighting in the sand. Rolling around, like two teenage boys would

Suddenly Anna planted Robert a kiss. Robert was shocked and stared at her not returning it

Anna:"I still see you as you. I don't care what bodies we're in. Even if we were worms I'd ¹still love you"

Robert:"Anna, I... don't think I can do this"

Anna grabbed Robert's new hard dick and looked back at him:"Then don't think at all. Just love me"

Anna kissed him again and this time Robert kissed back. He felt the love his wife had for him and kissed the another boys body back.

The two identical boys now with their hands all over their bodies. Exploring each other as if it were a mirror. A mirror that they made out. A mirror that they were caressing and pressing their hard dick against.

Ther dicks were out. Anna in Philip's body just laughed as she felt her husband sucking her dick:"I understand why you always beg me. This is so goood. Keep going!"

Robert didn't believe what he was doing, but he couldn't really keep thinking that or else he would go mad. Sucking his son's dick was definitely not on his bucket list.

Robert got into a 69 position. Twins giving each other the same pleasure. What a sight for horny eyes.

They didn't talk. They were mouthful, so there was no room for talking. Each gagging on each others dick. Giving pleasure to the other one. Thursting and enjoying the same feeling from the other. They were close very close. And they both came almost at the same time. They got some perfecting to do.

They were in each other's arms, naked on the beach sand. Enjoying the view of the other one. Just smiling at each other.

And just then, the family Butler arrived with security to the beach.

Nigel:"Good afternoon gentlemen. I have strickt orders from your parents to transport you back to your house and to enroll you back into high school. You have your senior year to finish and you have to pass all your exams. Your parents also gave a strict rule of no alcohol, no drugs and no visits in your home. Shall we leave?"

Robert to Anna:"Oh that's what I forgot. Fuck, Richard is good. This is gonna be very good for him. I think he'll be the next one to continue."

Anna:"Did you just hear what Nigel said, honey?"

Robert:"All I heard was that I will spend a lot off tíme together with the love of my life. I don't care how painful it will be. We get to be young again and together. And don't forget that the boys share bedroom, honey." I saw Anna blushing and smile as she opened the car door.

Richard a Philip's P.O.V.

Philip:"Are you sure we're safe like this?"

Richard:"Yeah, bro. They're gonna have to go to high school and all. Nigel already has them at home. We get to live no without nagging"

Philip:"Yeah, so amazing to have no nagging, but If you haven't noticed I am the one with mums pussy."

Richard:"And I bet it's hungry for dick"

Philip:"Why on earth didn't they swap you into mum instead of me. I'm not even bi. I won't enjoy the sex as much as you will"

Richard;"Ok, I promile that tonight I'll show you that you're now definitely on the spectrum and that I now have a magnificent dick that will make you very happy"

Philip:"Fine. So, we gonna party now or what?"

Richard:"The festival hasn't even started yet and you wanna party already. I think we're now the oldest people here dude."

Philip:"Well then let's show them how older people party!"

An inbox story that I played with a tiny bit :D

Could you write a story about parents swapping bodies with their twin kids since they don’t behave. Now the parents in the boys body must go to school and enjoy their youth while the boys in their parents bodies have to give to work and be responsible.

If you haven't seen your story yet, don't worry I got a lot of them in the inbox, some of them are partially written in the drafts and are now just waiting for me to have more time and be horny enough to finish them 😈

[peachesofteal]

18+ mdni / dark and twisty, whump

It’s snowing.

You don’t even have to move your head to see in order to know. There’s something about how it hangs in the air, how the world sounds and feels during a snowfall that blankets everything, houses, trees, mountains, your mind.

You love it. Always have. Even as a child, winter was your favorite. Winter brought you a sense of calm, of peace. It was what drove you to move out here in the first place. Chasing the snow. The feeling of a quiet forest, lying still beneath the soft spun expanse of white. The smell of the air the morning before a big snow, the eternal quiet that exists in the darkness when everything is dampened down by the weight of a million, billion unique, crystallized webs.

Except this snow feels different. It doesn't feel like a velvety white, soft dream world, but a nightmare... one filled with pain, anxiety. Why are you here? What's happened?

And why do you hurt so fucking bad?

"You're awake." A deep voice says from your side, and you flinch on instinct, immediately wishing you hadn't as lighting sharp pain shoots through your upper arm all the way to your neck, and you cry out. "Easy." It's the brown eyed man, the bigger one. He's sitting in a chair that cannot possibly be comfortable, watching you.

"Where... am I?" You manage to choke out through stiff lips, your head spinning and the world tilting at the same time. It sours your stomach, more than you thought possible, and you try to choke back the burn of bile that's racing up your throat.

"Are you going to be sick?" He reaches, stroking a finger down your face. You hold your tongue, unsure, and he must not like it, because he sighs, and then frowns at you. "Tell me."

"No, I don't-" You can't even finish your denial before your stomach is heaving, and he's springing to action shifting you amidst unbearable pain, turning you on your side to where a clean bucket sits, right beneath your bed.

"It's alright, that's it." A hand soothes up and down your back as you dry heave, sputtering on nothing, tears leaking from your eyes.

"Nnnrgh-"

"I know, I know. Poor thing." He coos, and it sounds so... endearing, so sweet yet... frightening, like the poison of a predator, a pretty display meant to draw you in before it snaps a set of jaws shut around your face.

"H-hurts." You cry as he rolls you back into your original position. "It hurts."

"I know it does, sweet girl. We're going to fix it." He dabs a cloth on your face, across your forehead and then down to clean your mouth up, just as the man with the mohawk appears on the bed, one knee down, leaning over you, concern rife in his features.

"Poor baby. Were ye sick?" You blink up at him. What is going on? He presses a glass to your lips, encouraging you to drink, and then pulling it away after you've had a few sips with a gentle 'not too much'.

"Who are you?" You smack your lips. The water is cold, refreshing, but a ting acidic, and you wonder if it's well water, maybe?

"I'm Johnny." He's setting up something, beside you. You can see him organizing something, but can't quite make them out due to your lack of mobility. "An' this is Simon. Or Si. But ye probably won't be callin' him that quite yet." Johnny and Simon. Did they find you? Did they rescue you? Why can't you remember?

"What happened?" You try again, gritting your teeth against the pain.

"Ye had an accident, remember? We talked about this yesterday? Ye slid off the road, ended up in a thick of trees. Ye're lucky the one didnae impale ye." Impale?

"And you found me?" You're starting to feel tired again, all the sudden, woozy and weird, exhaustion pulling at your limbs. Shouldn't you be in a hospital? Why haven't they taken you to a doctor?

"Aye, we did. Pulled ye free, brought ye home." Home?

"We couldn't leave you to die, and the storm is pretty bad. Pass is closed." Simon offers as an explanation, and you close your eyes. Of course. The pass is closed.

"Thank... thank you." Johnny hums, and then to your complete shock, leans forward, brushing his lips against yours as you blink furiously.

"Want ye to know, if we didnae have to do this, we wouldnae." What?

"Do what?" The broad one, Simon, casts you a mournful glance, rising from the chair. He's got a piece of leather in his hand, like a cut from a belt, and your eyes dart between them. Do what?

"Bite down on this, precious." Simon instructs, placing it against your bottom lip, to which you jerk away in protest with a whimper.

"Do what?" You try again.

"We need to set your humerus, and clavicle." Set your humerus? And your-

Oh. Oh no.

"N-no. No, you ca-can't." You stutter, but Johnny gives you a sad look, shifting on the bed to place a hand on your belly, stroking upwards to the middle of your chest, the other holding firm against your good shoulder, the one that doesn't hurt. His hand is warm, so warm against you, and his thumb rubs in a cautious motion against your skin, lightly grazing the underside of your breast. It feels weird, and wrong... intimate. "Please, don't. Please, please-"

"It's alright." He shushes you, and the pressure against your body increases as Simon wedges a thick finger between your teeth, slipping the worn leather into your mouth, bracing a hand above your elbow, and below your shoulder on the side that hurts. You gasp for air, fear shaking your body, and Johnny coos at you, telling you you'll be alright, that you're with them now and they'll take care of you, that it will only hurt for a little. "Ye'll probably pass out, bonnie. We'll get the second one done while ye're down, and I already gave ye something for the pain." He assures, like it's supposed to relieve you, and your nostrils flare as something tightens against your arm. Simon's grip.

This can't be happening. How can this happen? No, nononono-

There's a crack. A crunch. Burning, obliterating agony that's delivered to your arm like a shot. You scream and bite down at the same time, raw misery trying to claw it's way out of your throat. You think you're crying, hallucinating from the pain, having a heart attack, everything all at once. It hurts. It hurts so bad, it hurts-

"We're sorry, we're sorry." Simon soothes, thumb wiping your cheek, but you can hardly hear him, your mind starting to sever itself from your body, floating away as you slip inside a dark tomb of your mind, losing yourself to unconscious as they both stare down at you, sickeningly sweet concern layered overtop the faces of a bear and a wolf, predators licking their maws in preparation, waiting to devour their prey.

[mellifexfarm]

News

My flock has contracted Marek's Disease.

Since 2019, after I brought home Lyra and Wren, my flock has been a closed flock. Meaning I take biosecurity very seriously, and opted to not bring any new chickens in or allow other poultry-keepers access to the yard where they are kept. The only birds that were added from 2019 until now have been from hatching eggs. There are a select few diseases that can pass from mother to egg, but not Marek's.

But within the past few weeks one chicken displayed symptoms of leg weakness and became unable to walk. I brought them indoors and started treating for vitamin deficiency, since that is by far the most common cause of sudden lameness in poultry. But she didn't get better, and then Lyra started walking unsteadily, and I knew something else was wrong. I suspected something was wrong with my feed and sent off a sample to get tested for mycotoxins, and switched feeds, because I know a lot of people have had issues with that lately. But then one morning I found Moss deceased in the coop, and it all kind of went downhill from there.

Sebrights are known for having extremely low resistance to disease. They are very inbred. It is the reason I lost Kip to fowl pox when everyone else recovered fine. And why all but one (her unnamed cockerel "emo" son) of the members of my flock who are descended from Lyra are affected. But none of the other tiny breeds I have, Seramas or Kikirkis, are known for being particularly disease resistant either. So. I am extremely cautious at jumping the gun and saying they wont be effected.

I sent off Moss's body for a necropsy on monday and got the results today, September 29th.

I do not know how this got into my flock. Our nextdoor neighbor got chickens a few months ago, but our birds don't have any direct contact. That is the only way I can think of.

There is a vaccine but it can only be administered to day old chicks. Vaccinating to prevent this was not an option.

It generally takes 4-10 weeks for the disease to develop after the chicken has been exposed, so it had to have been fairly recent. My flock has not been carrying this sub-clinically.

I genuinely don't know how this is going to go from here. There is no treatment for marek's disease. It is a virus. I have ordered a few herbal remedies with vague studies to back up some kind of efficacy helping reduce the damage the virus does and boost their immunity, but its mostly a crapshoot. The only good news I have with all this is that older birds are somewhat less likely to succumb to this disease. And the fact turkies and pigeons can't contract it.

The only birds displaying symptoms right now are Lyra, and Moss's unnamed pullet daughter.

Lyra is tentatively okay. I have crafted a sling for her, and she has been increasing in mobility over the last few days. She did not ever have full paralysis, so I am hopeful. Her daughter and Mouse, one of the younger keep-back pullets from this summers chicks, are the only casualties so far.

I'll be doing all that I can in terms of supportive care, but if any symptomatic birds get to the point I don't think they will recover from I will be euthanizing them. I will not be selling chickens anymore.

This disease has been a nightmare of mine for such a long time and now it is really happening. I am pretty crushed.

[starryknight-tarot]

𝓢𝓲𝓰𝓷𝓼 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝔂 𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓯𝓾𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓮 𝓼𝓹𝓸𝓾𝓼𝓮

pile 1 -- > pile 2 pile 3 -- > pile 4

masterlist<3 . paid readings

Hello beautiful souls and Happy Halloween🎃✨ Today we will be looking into some signs that someone may be your future spouse! Remember to meditate, take a deep breath, and pick whatever pile calls to you the most. My readings are meant for everyone, no matter what sexuality or identity you are. Since this is a general reading, make sure to take what resonates and leave what doesn't. In case anyone is curious, the characters are from the mobile game Tears of Themis.

Pile 1 Cards: The Emperor, The Hierophant, The Moon, Page of Cups, Four of Swords, Page of Pentacles rx, King of Wands rx, The Lovers Back of the Deck: Five of Pentacles

Holy cow Pile 1, your fs has very strong energy and you will be able to feel this energy very powerfully. It's almost like you will feel a wave of their energy as they pass by or a shiver down your spine, the hair on your arms will stand. Your fs seems to be influencial in a way, almost like they have people wrapped around their finger. Your fs might even be quite wealthy. They may be some sort of performer or entertainer, something that would make them the center of attention quite often. Your fs may be surrounded by people or always seem to have someone around them. You may usually see them at social events or you could even meet them for the first time at a big event. For some of you, you will meet your fs super soon, at a Halloween party or something like that (if you are reading this after Halloween, it may just be a holiday party). A strong sign that they are your future spouse is if they appear like someone who has something to hide. The energy they put out seems really playful and almost innocent, but there is something about them that feels like they aren't being entirely themselves. There is also going to be a romantic attraction to each other that will be felt really strongly and quickly. For some of y'all, this is a love-at first sight-kind of deal, you are gonna think to yourself "Holy shit that person is so hot". They may also get really close to you around the time you first meet, for example putting their arm around you. The eye contact between y'all is really strong, they may have really intense or unique eyes. Although I do feel like some of you are gonna be pretty intimidated by your fs at first either because of all the people around them or the strong energy surrounding them. When you guys see your fs, you may pretty easily see past the happy-go-lucky front they put up, to you, they may seem quite depressed or distressed, and they may even have obvious dark circles under their eyes. It may not be that extreme, you may just notice that they are not as energetic and instead more calm and collected. You may notice this about them in the moments you see them away from people. This is going to be something you will feel spiritually, spirit may show you some signs right before you meet them, I am getting a blue butterfly, a bunny, a crow, or an eagle. (Also a little shout out to my lesbian and bi queens reading, a little confirmation that this is your pile)

Advice Cards:

Be adventurous. It's time to go for it! In harmony with your inner self, you are free to do or be whatever you choose Physically and/or mentally, shape up Make your presence felt It is important to ask for help Practice the pause

Channeled Songs:

Pile 2 Cards: Eight of Wands rx, Seven of Cups, The Moon, Queen of Swords rx, The Hanged Man rx, Knight of Cups, Seven of Pentacles, Five of Swords Back of the Deck: Five of Cups

Honestly, I am getting a kind of enemies-to-lovers vibe from this pile lol. It might be more of a rivals to lovers but ya get the idea. If you find yourself bickering and teasing each other in a playful way, that's a good sign they are your fs. Your fs seems like a nerd or just very studious. I am getting they may have a very particular or unique way of speaking, like overly polite or a lisp, something like that. Also for a small amount of you, they may be deaf or partially deaf. Your fs also seems to always have their head stuck in the clouds, they may daydream and get distracted easily. Your fs may have ADHD or something like that. They seem to be someone that gets flustered easily and may be very easy to tease. But your fs has a very cute energy, like they seem very nervous and worried, but they can be really passionate about certain things. I think a sign that they are your fs, is when you find yourself missing this person often. If you don't see them for a prolonged amount of time, when you find yourself missing this person, wanting to see them, you may even feel a little empty without seeing them for a long time. I also feel like your fs will actually be the one to approach you and subtly try to send hints that they like you. They may also give the cutest compliments ever. Compliments you have never heard before and you can tell they come from the heart. You may not usually believe the compliments you get but the way they compliment you, there is no doubt they meant it and it came from their heart. Double points if it came from nowhere and they don't usually say compliments to people. A sign they are your fs is if you can't imagine your future without them, I feel like one day you are going to be sitting and thinking about what your future looks like, and no matter what, they are somewhere in your future. I actually feel like it might take a while for you guys to realize that you both like each other. It may even be the kind of situation where everyone around you realizes that you have a crush on each other except you guys, who are oblivious because you can't get out of your head about the connection. A sign they are your fs is when you find yourself staring at them for a little longer than you realize. You may start to see them and they may seem to light up the room a little. Y'alls connection is so cute I can't lol.

Advice Cards:

Look closely at what is going on around you

You are greater than your story

Things might not be they seem

Reflect on one of your blessing

Act on what you know

You are healing at cellular level

Channeled Songs:

Pile 3 Cards: Five of Swords, The Fool, Ace of Pentacles rx, Four of Swords, Seven of Wands, King of Swords rx, Nine of Wands, Eight of Swords Back of the Deck: Queen of Wands

For my beautiful Pile 3, a sign that they are your fs is if they are really silly and childlike. This childlike energy isn't like irresponsible or unsophisticated, but more like airhead or bimbo/himbo energy. They are enjoyable to be around and can light up a room. Your fs is really connected to their inner child so if they just seem to have a lot of energy. I am getting they may really like video games, especially competitive ones like Smash, Street Fighters, League of Legends, and stuff like that. Your fs has a strong competitive soul and likes a challenge. I was also seeing painted nails, specially black and pink nails. For some of you, you are going to meet your fs during a partially hard moment in your life, you may be going through a tower moment when you first meet. You and your fs may not be talking right now or for some of you, you may not have met yet. Some of y'all may also want to read Pile 1 if you feel called since I am picking up on some similar energy. I am also hearing for some of you, your fs has a strong connection to cars, they may be a car mechanic or race car driver or something like that. I was also hearing that your fs has absolutely amazing fashion, a sign may be that they tend to wear clothes or colors that really compliment your style. Also, I heard that a sign they are your fs is if you often get shocked when touching them, like those moments when you get a little zapped when you walk on a rug or something (I really don't know how to describe this lol) I feel like if you notice that you are getting zapped by someone often, that may be spirits way of showing you they are your fs. They also may either curse like a sailor or have a very dirty mouth, if you notice they make a lot of suggestive jokes, this may be a sign for y'all. There also may be some people around you saying that this person is a red flag. Now now, this doesn't mean we should ignore red flags, however, if you know someone is judging this person unfairly, for some of you, this is a sign they are your fs. There also may be some difficulty in conversing, they may have a speech impediment, mumble a lot when they talk, or just tend to walk around with a lot of anxiety, and they may seem like they can't stand still.

Advice Cards:

Release unhelpful influences and fears

You are greater than your story

Your spirit wings are unfolding. It is time to take flight!

Learn through reversals. Hold the opposing viewpoint for insight

You are much stronger than you think

Release all that keeps you in the past. Forgive and liberate yourself!

Channeled Songs:

Pile 4 Cards: Judgement rx, Knight of Wands, Nine of Cups, Eight of Wands, Six of Wands, Knight of Cups rx, Three of Cups rx, Queen of Cups Back of the Deck: The Empress

Pile 4, you will know they are fs because they are going to be the most attractive person you have ever seen. With Pile 1, I was getting they are going to find their fs pretty hot, but you my Pile 4? You are going to find your fs absolutely stunning. Like, we have the Empress at the back of the deck and paired with the Nine of Cups, yeah they are beautiful. You have been manifesting these certain traits about a person and using sublimimals, stuff like that to bring your ideal type closer to you and honey, you will succeed. There is also much cup and wands energy so your fs may have a lot of fire and water in their birth chart or I was also picking up that one of you may have heavy water signs in your birth chart and the other has heavy fire signs in their birth charts. For some of you, this person may seem like the complete opposite to you, you may have very different aesthetics and personalities but you know what they say, opposites attract. Your fs comes off with very strong charisma and passion right away. You will notice they have very natural rizz that is so smooth and sexy. For some of y'all, a romantic relationship between the both of you is going to form very early into the relationship. You may never really have a getting to know each other phase of the relationship and really quickly move into the romance. A sign they are your fs is if you feel like you can trust them with anything. You are going to feel a strong sense of safety and loyalty between y'all. Your fs is going to have really balance feminine and masculine energy, but they seem to have especially nutured their feminine side. Also, if you identify as a woman and you are interested in a man, you are going to think yourself "Finally, a man that actually likes women". You are going to think that your person appreciates you and cares deeply for the emotional connection between you two. Your fs is going to check on you often to make sure you are going well physically and mentally. They also have a strong essence of achievement, your fs has achieved a lot in their time and seems very successful.You may also see 444 when you are around them, when you think of them, or before you meet them. I love all of this for your Pile 4.(For thoses of y'all that are Helluva Boss fans, your fs gives me Ozzie vibes which is really everything)

Advice Cards:

Act on what you know

Bring something new into your life

Allow for old memories to come up and be released

The key is in the application. Practice!

Yes, you can . . . Set it in motion!

Make your presence felt

You can manifest your heart's desire

Channeled Songs:

Thanks for tuning in and Happy Halloween for those who celebrate₊‧.°.⋆🫧•˚₊‧⋆.

[count-on-mi]

After Concert (Nayeon, Momo, Sana, Mina)

A/N: Another smut idea pops up after I watch the Misamo showcase, it is really touching to see how they interact, but I am also thinking about what will happen lol. T Now please enjoy and 'Do not touch'

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

Twice has finally completed the American leg of their world tour, you have not been able to see them during the tour, and you take it as a chance to meet the members at their free time.

From time to time, members of Twice, except for Jihyo is busying on prepare her solo album and Misamo that are doing promotion in Japan, will come to your house in the name of visiting you. The most frequent visitors are Chaeyoung and Tzuyu who are resting.

However, this day Nayeon has convinced you to go Japan with her, as she wants to support her members at the last day of their showcase. You watch how emotional they are and they just can’t hold back the tears when they meet each other, you know they have good relations since their debut, and also on bed, so you tell Misamo to visit your hotel room after they finish their schedule.

You laying on the bed ,watching the live broadcast of the news on TV. It was already Misamo's turn to appear, and the clips of three of them performing today is aired on the TV.

"Nayeon, aren't their outfits beautiful tonight?" You patted the back of Nayeon's head while looking at Nayeon's selfie with your mobile phone.

In the photo, there are only two thin strips of cloth on Nayeon's chest, crossed up and down through the shoulders and underarms, to the back, and before being worn back from the underarms and waist, they are connected with the triangular fabric of the lower body.

Nayeon obviously has an C-cup, her plump breasts can be seen almost at a glance, and the triangular cloth on her lower body is also a corner of the black forest that is faintly exposed from time to time between movements.

"Uh..." Nayeon stopped what she was doing and raised her head to look back. She nodded and then went back to the previous movement. "It's very beautiful, but now I need this."

Nayeon is wearing that set of "pajamas", and has been kneeling between your legs, one hand is constantly stroking your penis, the other is playing with your scrotum, and the small mouth keeps kissing everywhere of your penis and scrotum, she sucks your penis and sucks the head of your penis, and makes one or two deepthroat movements from time to time.

After many years of training, everyone of Twice has practiced a set of blowjob hobbies that are unique to each other, and a set of public blowjob techniques that nine people have discussed with each other and all nine of them know how to do when pleasing you.

Just like Nayeon right now, she likes to quickly lick the penis from bottom to top, and then put the glans in her mouth. During the quick swallowing process, the glans collides with the small tongue tip of the throat, but not Will be too deep in the throat, just click to the end. The tip of the tongue hitting the throat back and forth like this, the feeling of wanting to vomit but not vomit, wanting to suffocate but not suffocating, is Nayeon's favorite.

At this moment, the three of Misamo were being interviewed by the MC on TV, and Momo once again began to avoid the microphone, giving the opportunity to Mina and Sana.

"Come...get up, the main course is almost ready, come up." You patted Nayeon's bare back.

"Um... oh...boo" Nayeon finally swallowed your penis a few more times to pass the addiction, and then pulled out the penis with a sound from her tightly pursed lips.

"Turn around and see how your sisters behave."

"Oh, daddy."

Nayeon turned around, her face was facing the TV, her bare back was facing you, her legs were separated and she knelt on your crotch. Holding your firm penis with one hand and constantly stroking it, her other hand supporting herself on the bed, her waist slowly dropped on you.

You look at your cock against Nayeon's labia. After Nayeon rubbed it a few times with her buttocks, the mushroom head was inserted into the labia and continued to move inside.

From the tips to the root of your penis, it gradually disappeared in Nayeon's vagina little by little until there were only the balls are hanging outside her clits.

Nayeon sat until you reach her bottom of the waist, feeling extremely sexually aroused all over, and then let out a refreshing sound "oh".

Listening to the interview session between Mina and Sana, watching Momo smiling and covering her mouth, Nayeon twisting her buttocks and start grinding your crotch.

The pictures inside the TV made Nayeon feels a perverted sexual pleasure. The members were interviewed on the spot and baptized by countless lights, but she was in the hotel room, having a crazy adultery with her master.

"Ah...ummm...uh...ohhhhh!" Nayeon's waist twisted more cheerfully, rubbing her hands even harder on her breasts.

"Nayeon... you... ah... and... uh... being horny again." You felt Nayeon's madness on riding you again, and frantically began to demand the pleasure of sex by suiting her rhythm.

"Uh... Daddy... push hard... ah... deeper"

You hold Nayeon's waist tightly, and struck her down on your penis forcefully. Nayeon's ass cheek kept colliding with your crotch, and there was a "popping" sound of skin and flesh hitting the hips trembling.

"Daddy... push hard... ah ah... harder... um oh... oh oh... oh"

"You... little... whore"

"Daddy... no... ah... why do you say I am a whore... uh oh... Aren’t I your little baby?"

You get up and push Nayeon down, the penis slipped out of Nayeon's walls, you press her shoulders with both hands, and made her kneel on the bed with her legs apart.

"Nayeon, look at your members...uh" You bend down to cling to Nayeon's hot body, holding your penis and thrusting into Nayeon's pussy, with one arm around her slim waist and the other stretch her big breasts which were ravaged by the cloth strips on her chest.

"Ah...daddy...you came in again...uh huh huh"

"Nayeon, watch they finish the interview and walk off the stage." You lick Nayeon's ear, nibbling it from time to time.

"Oh umm..." Nayeon watched the members walk off the stage on the TV, while she was on the bed bearing the whipping from her master. While her upper body is being used by your hands, her lower body was constantly being impacted by your giant objects.

For a moment, feelings of shame, infidelity, sexual pleasure, etc. spread from the brain to her whole body. Nayeon’s petite body is trembling with excitement, the body temperature also rise rapidly, the contraction of the vagina of her lower body and the secretion of her juices became more rapid.

During this time, Nayeon and you changed a few positions, exploring each other's body crazily. Nayeon's high-pitched groans, which had been unscrupulous before, also turned into a hoarse growl after a long period of screaming.

Finally it was time for their performance again, Nayeon and You also took a break for a while, Nayeon was naked at the side, wearing a new pair of black stockings, ready for the second round. The original "cloth strip artifact" has become wet and lying on the corner of the room, indicating that it was ruined in the furious sex.

You watch the live performance of Misamo together with Nayeon, who just finished wearing black stockings. One of your hand keep lingering on Nayeon's chest, and the other hand pointed to the TV and said, "Nayeon, Mina’s outfit is really sexy today! I'll make a phone call and ask the three of them to come over in this dress."

You take out the mobile phone next to the bed, and calling them. Nayeon was touching her boobs with one hand while she rubs her clit and thrust two fingers into her pussy with the others.

"Nayeon...you...cannot stop for a minute today?" You finished the phone call and turn to see Nayeon masturbating.

"Daddy... Nayeon... still want it ... now..." Nayeon wrinkled her nose and dragged her long ending, while coquettishly stretching out her hand to grab my penis.

You pull Nayeon over and spank her elastic ass cheek, "Kneel!"

Nayeon immediately kneel down on the bed, understand her wish can be fulfilled, and you turn around behind her, and as soon as you hold her waist with both hands, thrust your penis into her thirsty pussy again.

"Ah...too...uh...it's...too deep...aah...Nayeon is going to...die...Daddy!”

Nayeon's weeping voice sounded in your ears, and you ask heavily, "Then... do you like it, my baby Nayeon?"

"Yes... like... Nayeon likes... I am dead... ah ah ah... fuck Nayeon... uh uh... fuck your... slave!"

Nayeon's roars arouse your lust even further. You thrust in Nayeon's pussy harder and harder, and Nayeon responds to me with obscene howls and moving her hips backward for more pleasure.

The TV show has been over for a while when you are still enjoying Nayeon’s body. You keep venting your desire on Nayeon's sexy body, and Nayeon is keep getting all kinds of sexual satisfaction from you.

The door of the hotel room finally opened, and the Misamo walk into the room wearing a uniform set of light-colored trench coats.

In front of the three of them, you are on top of Nayeon, propping up your lower body on the bed with both hands, frantically moving your penis in and out of Nayeon's slippery pussy. On the other hand, Nayeon's separated legs were bent and clamped tightly around your waist, shaking her head violently and keep moaning.

The obscene scene make the faces of the three of them turn red quickly, and they were swallowing saliva in their mouths.

"Come on, take off your windbreaker. Why are you still wearing it in the house?"

"Yes..." The three of them take off their trench coats in response, revealing the stage costumes they wore on TV just now.

"Momo, Sana, come here, I'll leave Nayeon to you!" You pulled out your penis from Nayeon's body, totally coated by Nayeon’s nectar.

"Ah... Daddy... no..." When Nayeon felt the emptiness in her body, she hurriedly speak out to stop it.

"Be a good girl... let Momo and Sana play with you for a while."

Momo and Sana climbed onto the bed in red stage costumes, Sana kiss Nayeon's red lips, Momo kiss Nayeon's breasts, and the two skillfully attack Nayeon’s body.

You watched Nayeon quickly panting under the cooperation of Momo and Sana, so you stopped paying attention. Looking back, I saw Mina standing beside the bed in that well-tailored red stage costume. You pull Mina over and let her sit on your lap. One hand lingering on the exposed part of her costume's waist, and the other lift her chin, kissing her red lips.

After a burst of tongue kisses, Mina's face is blushed. You look at each other with your lips parted, and you look at Mina's red face like a red Fuji apple, attracting you to take a bite.

You pull down the zipper on the side of her costume by passing through Mina's armpit, and poke your hand into it. You reach out to Mina's skirt with the other hand, pulling down the zipper on the side of the shorts, and reach into the pants to explore her path.

"Uh...huh...um..." Mina opened her mouth, panting and moaning slightly.

Mina, who exudes a seductive aura at this moment, is more and more able to seduce a man's deepest desire buried in her heart.

"Come on, Mina, lie on the side of the bed, yes... that's it, open your legs." You get up and direct Mina's movements.

Mina props her arms on the side of the bed, leans forward and stand with her legs apart. You unbutton and threw the folded skirt on the ground, then taking off the safety pants together and put them together with the hem of the skirt just now.

A small piece of the black forest was stained with spots of water, and her clits slowly opens and shrinks in a rhythmic manner.

You stretch out your hand to part her lips and looked at the depths of the deep path. You stick your tongue into her vagina and lick it, and pressed your lips tightly against the clit to suck the honey in the vagina from time to time.

"Ah...Oppa...It’s dirty...um...don't lick it." Mina shakes her ass, trying to avoid your tongue. But You hold onto her ass cheeks tightly to prevent Mina from breaking free.

"Ahh… Umm… Oppa… no…. too deep… ummm…’ Mina gradually changes from actively avoiding your licking to passively swaying her slender waist, let her ass grinding against your face.

"No... ah ah... I want to... cum... um... ahh!" Mina reached an orgasm, and her pussy quickly splashing juices and sprayed all over your face.

After you play Mina's pussy and get all of her juice in your mouth, you let go of your hands that are holding on Mina's ass, let her lay down on the bed and rest after the orgasm, she don’t even have any energy to resist your hands on her body.

Mina panting on the bed with her head sideways, she breathes heavily and looking at Momo and Sana who had already taken off their performance costumes, take out a pair of Strap-on dildo from the bedside table and put them on, Momo at the bottom and Sana on the top, sandwiching Nayeon in the middle like a hamburger, going back and forth in and out of Nayeon's pussy and asshole.

"Ahhh...I want more...Momo...Sana...harder...uh...ohhh" Nayeon yelled hysterically with her already hoarse throat under the attack of Momo and Sana .

Mina look at Nayeon's lecherous appearance in front of her, and didn't look surprised at all. Instead, she reach out and grabs Nayeon's breast.

You watch the nectar slowly flow out from Mina's pussy after orgasm, your lust is burning roughly, and your cock stand stiffly in the air.

While Mina’s attention was distracted to the battle of the other three, You hold Mina by the waist and pull her to the side of the bed, separated her ass cheek with your hands, hold your penis and pump her waist up until you reach the deepest spot.

"Ah" Mina screams suddenly. She feel her figure being pulled back, and it does not stop until her ass was exposed outside the bed. After that, her ass cheeks were forcibly separated by your hand, and she immediately feel your hard cock is inserted into her pussy.

"Papapa" and "Papapapa" are becoming more and more intensive, accompany by Mina’s low-alto singing voice, "Ah... ah... Oppa... um oh... ah eh Um... woo... oh"

Just as usual as you take Mina, she bit her lower lip tightly to prevent herself from shouting, and only let go until she couldn't bear it any longer, making the groaning sound that ordinary people couldn't hear and the unrestrained image.

You stand behind Mina, thrusting into her quickly, Mina's legs trembled constantly under the violent impact, and you gradually become unstable.

"Come on, go to bed and lie on your stomach." Seeing that Mina could not stand still, you pat her ass to signal her to go to bed.

While bearing your whipping behind her, Mina slowly raised her legs to get on the bed, gradually climbed onto the bed and lay on her face, burying her flushed face with excitement in the pillow.

I also go to bed with Mina, lying on her back, kissing around her neck and shoulder, and still galloping on Mina's delicate body.

"Ahhh... Oppa... I... ah... I can't... heavy... you... too heavy... ahhhh." Begging and groaning.

"Then turn over."

"Oh... Oppa... Get up... I'll turn over" Mina rolls over behind me, and you press on her again, Mina's slender legs tightly hook around your waist, wet dew was exposed between the separated legs Vulva, soon a regular customer stay in it again, and keep going out or going home; the red costume on her chest was pulled down because of the zipper, and the breasts were half-naked.

You play with Mina's beautiful snow-white breasts with one hand, and suck her hard nipples. The lower bodies of the two of them also kept in close contact.

"Mina, come and kiss Nayeon." You look at the three people next to each other and tell Mina and Nayeon to kiss each other.

Hearing this, Mina stretched out her head and kissed Nayeon's plump lips, from the very beginning touch to the intense French kiss, while the former endured my fierce whipping, and the latter endured the double-headed penetration of the members in the same group.

After a period of intense physical strength and time consumption, "Oppa!" "ahh!" Mina and Nayeon let out a high-pitched groan at the same time under the stimulation of the double pleasure, and collapse on the bed panting heavily to recover from the intense orgasm.

When your cock was being pushed and inserted quickly in Mina's body, it was poured by the rapid contraction and extrusion of Mina's walls, and a large amount of her nectar splashes.

In the end, you jerked in Mina's pussy and completed the second ejaculation today. “Oh Mina… Take my seed!”

You pull out the loose penis after cumming, watching the seed overflowing from Mina's clits from time to time, your penis became hard again.

Momo, Nayeon, and Sana were exhausted after orgasm, and they were stacked on top of each other like an arhat.

"Come on, Momo, Sana, let's change."

After the exchange complete, you see Momo and Sana pinching Mina just like they did to Nayeon just now, and while ravaging, they said, "Mina Chan, we will love you very much."

You turn your head away from the MISAMO trio's bed-sharing show and inserted your penis into Nayeon's asshole.

"Ah...it hurts...daddy...you...ahh...wrong hole!"

"That's right... Nayeon... That's right... That's right this time... I haven't used your back... for a long time. "

[jen-with-a-pen]

(In Your) Arms Tonight - 1/2

summary: Hypothesis: If he (Wade) turns off the AC, then they (Wade and Logan) will have no choice but to strip naked and end up sticky and gross and hard together!

That's what he was taught in middle school, right?

pairing: Logan Howlett x Wade Wilson / Worst Wolverine x Deadpool

word count: 1.3k

warnings: MDNI 18+, Wade's POV-ish, blood mention, knife mention, beer mention, Wade's fuckin horny and thirsty y'all, pining, cursing, claws, Wade is looking ✨respectively✨, crude humor and language, slight Deadpool and Wolverine spoilers, no smut (yet, sorry)

a/n: AUGH DONT LOOK AT ME (actually please do I cannot hold this in any longer.) currently part one of two parts. posting the first one now as I am currently traveling for work and won't be back until beginning of September and then part two will be out when i either A. Get home or B. Finish it and format it in between running around like a chicken with my head cut off. Please be patient with me! I will not tolerate "whEreS PaRt Two?¿??" when I literally just told you. Hope y'all enjoy one of the many products of my brain rot. More to come in due time ✨

Not beta'd. Written on my phone and edited via gdocs. Post formatted on mobile because I don't wanna use my work computer lmao

Please let me know if there are any spelling or grammar mistakes!

If I've missed any tags, PLEASE let me know!

gif by @tomshiddles | dividers by @saradika-graphics | warning banner by me ❤️

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Read this fic HERE on AO3

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PART ONE | PART TWO

The abs are great. More than great, actually. In fact, they're all Wade thinks, dreams, and fantasizes about. All day, everyday, non-fucking-stop. The moment replays over and over in his fucked up noodle brain like a scratched record. He knows muscle memory is a thing, but what about salivatory memory?

Christ. He's gotta get a grip instead of getting hard.

But what about when Logan isn't flexing hard enough to rip his goddamn suit off?

Wade notices Logan becoming more relaxed around the apartment as the days pass. Adjusting to his new life, coming out of the bedroom earlier than he has to on days when he gets a turn to sleep on a real bed. It's Sofa City most of the time– which he really doesn't mind, he almost prefers it most of the time (since it's in clear sight of the front door) but Wade more often than not likes to insist they share his 'much-too-big-for-lil-old-me' twin XL mattress that's seen more stains than sex in the last year alone.

Logan's compromise is he'll take the bed and Wade the couch half the time. Alone. They're still working on the negotiations of said compromise, but the jury– Blind Al– is still out on recess.

Once he's more settled in, Logan learns that it's okay to kick off his boots and put his feet up. It's not often, but enough that Wade silently wishes he'd rest those big meaty calves on his lap instead. He's been needing a new weighted blanket and Adamantium-coated tibias and hairy legs are so in right now.

Logan doesn't know it, but Wade secretly plays 'ohmygodhetotallylookedatme' whenever he so much as catches a glimpse of Wade oggling at him in his peripherals. Wade can't help it when Broody and the Beast's ribbed white muscle shirt pulls taut against those deliciously plump pecs that he silently prays it'll burst off again. Or he'll rip it off. Or Logan will rip it off. For him.

A boy can dream.

It's especially hard to win at 'OMGHTLAM' when Logan accessorizes– AKA throwing on whatever flannel is in rotation out of the several he finds at the thrift store a few blocks over. Wade feels his throat tighten like his jeans do when Logan wears the forest green one. Really brings out his eyes.

And smile. And lips. And–

It's still summer, so on the hotter days, when sweat glistens on his brow and Wade desperately wishes to be the back of Logan's hand, the tank top comes off. All Logan's sweaty, gloriously muscular body has on is a wonderfully worn-in pair of jeans with the hem of black briefs poking out behind the denim waist.

Do they have AC? Yes. Because Wade would have to plan a funeral for Al if they didn't.

But when she's out and about, he likes to turn it off and let the New York heat wave run its course. Sure, it leaves him sticky and gross, but he'd rather be sticky and gross and hard when he can help it.

Luckily, Blind Al is gone for the whole weekend. Some girls trip or a drug mule job. Same difference.

Hypothesis: If he (Wade) turns off the AC, then they (Wade and Logan) will have no choice but to strip naked and end up sticky and gross and hard together!

That's what he was taught in middle school, right?

With the push of a button and a sprinkle of patience, Logan is splayed out on the couch in a matter of hours with a lukewarm beer in hand while fighting his eyelids from dozing off to some random war documentary. Sweat beads on his temples and there's a slight sheen to his skin from his biceps to the lower V pointing down to between his thighs. He chuckles every so often, mumbling things to himself between swigs of beer and shaking his head when the narrator gets something 'wrong.'

Wade busies himself in the kitchen but his eyes are permanently glued to his roommate. He doesn’t miss the way Logan's stomach rises and falls gently, the rock-hard six pack softening into rolling hills of muscle with a layer of dark hair covering as much surface area as immortal-like hormones will allow. Grown out beard, chops, and messy hair really throw the whole look together; very 2000s, if you ask Wade. His pecs look just as soft as a pair of titties, if not softer, and Wade knows it. He'd do anything to lay his perfect little head on Logan's chest. Maybe lick it too, if he's a good boy. 

Logan perks up suddenly from the couch.

Oh God did he say that out loud?

"Wade?"

Wade doesn't hear him. Can't hear him. Half-refuses to hear him, honestly. Daydreaming takes up a whole lotta brain power and this show isn't running itself. Economy, budget cuts, unprecedented times. You know the shtick. 

"Wade."

Nothing but a bead of drool comes out of Wade's mouth. 

Suddenly, there's a crash right behind Wade's head and now he's awake. He whips around to the ale-spattered wall behind him and back to Logan, who's now standing with claws drawn and chest heaving.

Wade swears he's blushing. 

Eyes wide and brow standing up straight like his good little soldier, Wade looks down at the counter before him to find a bloodbath of a scene: one hand's on a knife while the other spews blood all over the yellowed counter tops; there's remnants of a carrot that was finished five minutes ago, followed directly by remnants of fingers cut down to the last fucking knuckle and slice marks beginning down the back of his hand.

Wade holds up his spurting stump, gashed artery doing a spot-on impression of Ol' fucking Faithful.

"Oh. Huh. Thought I smelled something," he says, staring at his now-tingling hand. Baby fingers for the rest of the night were so worth the staring contest with Logan's beautiful body.

"Fuckin' idiot," Logan mutters, sheathing his claws and striding over to the hall closet to grab a towel. Wade's already stopped bleeding, but just because they might be immune to bloodborne pathogens doesn't mean Al is.

"Gah– get back, damn mutt." Logan shoos Dogpool out of the kitchen to prevent her from lapping up her papa's bodily fluids. He throws the towel in Wade's face and goes to grab the bleach out of the cupboard under the sink. Logan learned very quickly where to find it the first time this happened a month or two ago.

"Sorry baby, Mommy's got a boo-boo and Daddy's just trying to help," Wade coos at Dogpool. "You're too good to me, peanut. Someone oughta wife ya up before I do."

Logan responds with a scowl as he tosses the carrots out and tries to keep the counter from staining. "Why th'fuck did you do that?"

"It was time for a new hand. Old one was so last season."

Wade mops up the blood from his arm and wraps the towel onto his head like he's just gotten out of the shower. Holding up his regenerating stump, he poses like a cover model for Vogue.

"Whatcha think, peanut?" He strikes another pose. "Is this doing anything for ya, big boy?"

Logan grunts as he tosses a wad of paper towels into the trash can. He turns to leave the kitchen, eyes flicking to Wade. It's the quickest once over ever, but Wade sees it. Commits it to memory while he pulls a Flashdance in a chair from the kitchen table and follows Logan's denim-clad ass as it sways off to the bathroom. 

"'M gonna go shower. Don't wait up,” Logan calls before shutting the door and locking it. 

Sighing, Wade looks down at his crotch, pants tent pitched higher and tighter than a first-timer on Everest.

Good thing he's ambidextrous.

[favefandomimagines]

Back in the Saddle (t.o)

Request: @glenxjesse “I was wondering if I could request a Tyler Owen/reader. Where reader fell off her horse and got pretty badly injured with a concussion and a shattered heel bone and needed surgery and Tyler takes time off of wrangling to take care of her while she’s laid up, making sure she has everything she needs and carrying her around to different rooms because she hates her crutches and he’s worried about her falling again, also comforting her at night when the pain is really bad and she can’t sleep. Last year I fell off my horse with those exact injuries and I just feel like Tyler would be the most attentive, comforting boyfriend. Thank you! Please feel free to change whatever you want! And if you don’t want to write it I understand as well! Hope you’re doing well! Love your writing by the way!”

AN: I am SO SORRY this took me so long!!! Life got in the way and I totally forgot! I hope you all enjoy some Tyler Owens fluff!

Summary: Tyler puts his storm chasing on hold to take care of Y/N after a horse riding accident and there’s no where else he’d rather be.

Tyler’s boots scuffed the dirt as he moved slowly across the ranch, his broad hat shielding him from the unforgiving late afternoon sun. The sky stretched vast and blue, with a hint of dark clouds building on the horizon, the kind that usually sent him chasing after the storms in his beat-up red truck.

But today wasn’t like most days. He wasn’t tracking any storms or watching the sky for funnels with Boone. Today, he was watching over Y/N.

Y/N sat on the porch, her right leg elevated and wrapped in a thick cast. Her face, normally flushed with color from riding her horse under the big sky, was pale. The pain was evident in her tight grip on the armrest of the chair. A concussion and a shattered heel—the doctor had said it could’ve been worse when she fell off her horse, but to Tyler, it already felt like a nightmare.

She had to have surgery to repair her foot and her recovery time is 3-4 months. Which for Tyler felt like an eternity. Afraid something else could wrong while she wasn’t mobile enough to protect herself.

He walked up to her, gently placing his hand on her shoulder. "You need anything?" His voice was soft, like a breeze passing through the fields, but beneath it was a current of concern.

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes heavy with the exhaustion of pain and sleepless nights. "I’m fine, really. Just... tired of these stupid crutches. My arms are killing me."

Tyler crouched beside her, his face level with hers. "I know it’s hard, darlin’. But you gotta take it easy for a bit. The crutches are a pain, but they’re helping you heal."

She let out a huff, frustrated. "I hate being stuck here. You should be out chasing storms, Tyler. Not babysitting me."

"Hey," Tyler said firmly, but his smile softened the edge in his voice. "This ain’t babysitting. This is takin’ care of you. And I wouldn’t be anywhere else."

Her lips quirked into a small smile, though she tried to hide it. "I don’t want to hold you back."

"You ain’t holdin’ me back, baby. I’d miss a hundred storms if it meant bein’ here with you. Don’t you know that by now?"

Y/N’s eyes flickered, a mixture of relief and guilt dancing in their depths. She reached out and took his hand. "I’m sorry, Ty. I just... I hate being this helpless."

Tyler stood and pulled her into a gentle hug, mindful of her injuries. "Ain’t nothin’ helpless about you. You’re one of the toughest women I’ve ever known. But right now, tough means lettin’ yourself heal. And I’m here to help with that. It’s what I want to do."

For the first time all day, Y/N’s shoulders relaxed. She rested her head against his chest, letting his steady heartbeat calm her restless mind. "Thank you."

They stayed like that for a few minutes, the setting sun casting a warm glow over the porch. Tyler finally pulled back, a playful grin on his face. "Now, how ‘bout we get you inside? Doc said you need to rest."

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips. "I’ve been resting all day."

"Yeah, but you haven’t had my world-famous chicken noodle soup yet," Tyler teased.

"Oh really? World-famous, huh?"

"In at least three counties," he said with a wink.

Tyler scooped her up in his arms and carried her towards the front door. “You know you’re supposed to do this when you get married, right?” Y/N questioned. “Hey, it’s good practice.” He replied.

||

That night, Tyler sat beside the bed, his boots kicked off and his legs stretched out in front of him. Y/N lay on her back, staring at the ceiling, her face contorted in pain she was trying hard to hide. But Tyler noticed. He always noticed.

He leaned over, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "You okay?"

Y/N blinked, her eyes glistening. "It’s just... the pain. It’s worse at night. I feel like I can’t get away from it."

Without hesitation, Tyler slipped into bed beside her, carefully wrapping his arms around her without putting pressure on her leg. He pulled her close, resting his chin on the top of her head.

"I’m right here, darlin’," he whispered. "I ain’t goin’ nowhere."

Y/N took a shaky breath. "I know. But I don’t want to keep you up all night."

Tyler kissed the top of her head, his lips warm and comforting. "Don’t worry ‘bout that. Sleep or no sleep, I’m here. You don’t have to go through this alone."

She buried her face into his chest, the familiar scent of him—earth and leather, storm clouds and fresh hay—giving her a sense of peace she hadn’t felt all day. "Ty... what if this takes longer than 4 months to heal? What if I’m not the same afterward?"

Tyler’s grip tightened just a little, enough to reassure her without hurting her. "Then it takes longer. And if you ain’t the same, we’ll figure it out together. You think I’m here just for the ridin’ and the fun days? No. I’m here for all of it. The good, the bad, and whatever comes next."

Y/N swallowed hard, her eyes closing as the pain seemed to lessen, just a bit, with his words. "I don’t deserve you."

"Now, that’s where you’re wrong," Tyler said, his voice soft but firm. "You deserve the world, Y/N. And if I can give you even a piece of it, I will. You’re my whole world."

Her breath caught in her throat. She hadn’t expected him to say something so raw, so vulnerable. "You mean that?"

Tyler chuckled softly, his voice rumbling in his chest. "More than you know."

Y/N snuggled closer, her body relaxing into his. The pain was still there, but it wasn’t as sharp, not when she was wrapped in the safety of his arms. "I love you, Tyler."

"I love you too, darlin’," he murmured, his lips pressing softly against her forehead. "And I’m here for the long haul. Ain’t nowhere else I’d rather be."

The night stretched on, the sky outside dark and the stars shining. Tyler stayed awake, his arms around Y/N, listening to her breathing slowly even out as she finally drifted into sleep. He didn’t mind missing the storms. There would always be another tornado, another season. But there was only one Y/N, and she was worth every missed chase, every long night spent by her side.

As he lay there in the dark, the distant rumble of thunder echoed from far-off storms, but Tyler didn’t stir. His focus was here, on the woman he loved.

And as long as she needed him, that’s exactly where he’d be.