#it is something for me to figure out myself
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ghstzzn · 2 days ago
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roommates for dummies!
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pairings: lee heeseung x f!reader, jay park x f!reader, jake sim x f!reader, park sunghoon x f!reader
synopsis: desperate to get off of your bestfriends couch, you decide to reply to an ad online in search of a roommate. sure, you were skeptical about living with four men—but if anything, just desperate. it wasn't long before you started to completely regret this decision. however, some things just might be worth the stress and anger.
part one! wc: 5.7k
tags/warnings (for this part): SMUT. theres no fivesome happening (sorry..), threesome(s), fingering, rough sex, unprotected sex, pullout method, oral ( m rec), deepthroating, cum eating/cum play/just cum stuff ig, voyeurism, degradation, name calling, some praise, manhandling, sex standing up idk just trust me, no aftercare, silly bit at the end, heeseung thinks he's sooooo funny! that's it for this part i believe.
🍊: havent posted smth fr in awhile kind of nervous. not much happens except sex but thats the point of this. by the way this is one of three/four parts ♡ enjoy and Uhhhhhh uhhhuhhh uhhhhhhhh
masterlist / part two
MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT
you savored every second you spent outside of your new home.
sure, you were beyond grateful to have a place to live. in fact, you were lucky considering how quickly you got in this situation. losing your old place due to unforeseen circumstances, a.k.a, your ex boyfriend kicking you out of his apartment after you caught him cheating on you despite you paying more than half of his rent.
though, you figured his new girlfriend could handle that portion now.
you crashed on your friends couch for a few days, actively searching for anyone looking for a new roommate. she assured you that you could stay as long as you needed, and there was no need to rush, but you were stubborn and had quite the false sense of being independent. 
which is why you clicked on the first ad you saw. a nice five bedroom house, the spare having its own bathroom and it was closer to campus unlike your last apartment. you couldn’t find much information on the poster, but you were desperate so you quickly dialed in the number on screen and waited while it rang.
you were taken aback when a male voice loudly boomed from the other side. you pulled the phone away from your ear and double checked the number— it was typed in correctly.
“hello?” he spoke again. “hellooooooo-”
“uh, sorry.” you cleared your throat. “i saw an ad online that you were looking for a new roo-”
the male cuts you off, “yeaahhh. man, was wondering when someone would respond.” you cringe at the way he interrupted you. “you lookin’ for someone else? no offense but you sound a little… y’know, like a girl.”
you let out a sigh, nodding even though he couldn’t see you, “i’m calling for myself… i wasn’t aware you were a man but– actually, i’m a little desperate.”
“yeah? desperate?” he chuckles. you raise an eyebrow at the response. “alright, can you meet me here then?”
caught off guard once more by the sudden eagerness of the stranger, you stuttered out a quick yes.
“cool. i’ll text you the address n’ shit.”
the phone hangs up, not sparring you a moment to respond. you blink as you stare at your phone, watching as you receive a few messages from the number you had just called. 
at least you had other options if this didn’t go as planned.
jake spun around in the barstool at the kitchen island, letting out a puff of air as he waited patiently.
“you waiting for something?” jake turns his head towards the voice. jay walks through the kitchen, chewing on some kind of protein bar.
the antsy male leans forward against the counter, “our new roomie. she said she’d be here ten minutes ago.”
“oh.” jay responds before stopping in his tracks as he actually lets jakes words enter his brain. “wait, what? new roommate? she?”
“yeah man,” jake lets out another huff. “she’s late.”
“no, run that back.” the other male draws circles into the air. “when the fuck did we get a new roommate? and why is it a woman?”
“we have a new roommate?” another voice rings through the kitchen.
jake turns around in his chair with a sigh, “yes guys! jeez, you all need to learn patience– she’ll be here soon.”
“she?” the voice, belonging to heeseung, questions. 
“that’s what i’m wondering!”
“ladies please, one at a time.” the male stands from his seat. “we have a new roommate, yes. she’s a woman, also yes.”
heeseung furrows his eyebrows, thinking for a moment before jay speaks up once more, “don’t we get a say in this? or at least some type of interview?”
“is she hot?” heeseung chimes in immediately after, receiving a scoff from jay.
“totally.” jake snickers. “her voice told me enough about her. sounded so nervous too, it was cute.”
“you don’t even know what she looks like?”
“you seriously only think with that dick of yours.” heeseung comments, shaking his head.
“says you!” jay frowns at the other roommate.
the doorbell rings twice, drawing the attention from all three males. heeseung straightens his posture, quickly checking his appearance in the reflection of the stainless steel refrigerator. jay finishes his protein bar in one bite and clears his throat.
jake rolls his eyes at the two, “careful now, don’t pop a boner in front of her.”
he practically skips over to the door, almost giggling out loud. he pulls the front door open just before you ring the doorbell once more. “was starting to think you weren’t gonna show.”
you look him up and down, quite shocked at the attractive face he had.
“uh, yeah, sorry about that.” you respond, clearing your throat. “traffic was heavy.”
“that’s okay, babe.” he opens the door wider, inviting you in, not even hiding the way his eyes immediately land on your ass as you walk in front of him.
your gaze immediately fell on a taller man with red hair, who you assumed was heeseung (you weren’t viewing this house without stalking the people who resided in it), now wearing a beanie and leaned over the counter with his chin resting on his hand. he shot you a crooked smile and waved his fingers at you. 
“hey roomie.”
jay looks at the man in disbelief; and so do you.
“i’m actually just here to tour and interview… right?” you turn to look at jake who shrugs.
“i mean we all agreed you could move in.”
“since whe-”
jake cuts jay off and steps closer to you, “you said you were desperate right? you don’t seem like a weirdo or a bitch so just give us a move-in date and you’re good.”
you squint your eyes at him, confused and questioning this entire thing. your friend's couch doesn’t seem like a bad idea, she even offered to renew her lease for a bigger space in a few months. 
“we promise we won't bother you or anything,” he continues, “you have your own bathroom and the door has a working lock. swear on our lives you’ll barely see us.”
before you could even respond, the front door opens and slams shut. a taller man walks past you and jake, clearly locked into whatever was on his phone. he continued to walk past the kitchen before stopping and spinning around.
“new roommate.” heeseung tells him. the other male lets out an “oh” and nods his head at you before walking away, probably to his room.
you let out a sigh and the three remaining boys turn their attention back to you.
“can i just see the room?” 
-
bothering you was the only thing these fools ever did. 
the front door shuts with a slam and you’re immediately greeted by heeseung sprawled out on the couch scrolling through his phone, completely ignoring the mess leftover from their small house party from last night. the one that kept you up half the night despite begging them to turn in early for the sake of your sanity.
you run your hands through your hair, frustrated that the house looks exactly the same as it did early this morning. well, save for the leftover food that heeseung managed to put in the fridge. kicking off your shoes, you make your way into the kitchen and grab the trash bag that was left on the counter and start tossing all the empty beer cans and disposable cups in.
heeseung looks up from his phone to find the source of the angry slams and movements, smirking when his eyes land on you.
“woah there,” he calls out to you, “wake up on the wrong side of the bed today?”
you look up from the trash bag, throwing a can in it with so much force it somehow bounces out, only fueling your anger, “save it.”
heeseung chuckles, standing up from the couch and stretching while letting out an obnoxious groan. he walks around the couch and leans against the back of it.
“are you gonna help or just stand there?” you motion towards the mess on the counters.
“no, yeah, i think i'll just stand here. i’m kind of loving this scene with you in the kitchen.” 
you look at him, disbelief written all over your face, “so you’re lazy and a misogynist, nice!”
“what? no,” heeseung looks almost offended at your accusation. “no, babe, i’m not a misogynist– i literally love pussy. i could prove that to you right now if you’d like.”
“not a misogynist, just horny. got it.” 
your roommate only shrugs and pulls out his phone once more. the carefree attitude of his was only adding to the frustration building in your chest. you cross your arms and glance around. “where are the others?”
heeseung hums, you only assume he’s using the full power of his brain as he recalls the whereabouts of the other three roommates, but really he’s only focusing on how your tits bounce ever so slightly with every angry movement if your arms.
“jake’s asleep, jay’s attending a group meditation and sunghoon… should be home in a few. why? miss them?”
you wanted nothing more than to take the metal scrub pad near the sink and scrub at the stupid smirk on his face. instead, you nod and take a deep breath.
the door opens just on cue however. sunghoon walks in, kicking his shoes off in two different directions with a bag of full of bottles clinking against each other. the noise of the liquor bottles only added to your rage.
“really? more alcohol?” you comment and point towards the counter where a few unopened and opened bottles sat. “you have all of this– plus the entire mini fridge full of drinks.”
sunghoon raises a brow at you, “okay. but that’s liquor for functions, not me.”
you wave your hands in front of you. it made zero sense to you.
the taller male looks at sunghoon, “what’s wrong with her?”
“man, i don't know.” heeseung replies with a sigh, “she came in here all pissy and started slamming shit.”
they were having a conversation about you– in front of you.
“what? why?”
he shrugs again, “like i said, don't know. maybe she should follow jay to one of his meditation sessions.”
you roll your eyes, “you’re not funny, heeseung.” he lets out a snicker. you grab a rag from the counter and chuck it in his direction.
sunghoon whistles at the action and sets the bags he was holding onto the counter.
“i’m seriously regretting this whole living arrangement.”
heeseung pouts and crosses his arms over his chest dramatically, “hey! we aren’t that bad to live with.” he protests, though his tone is playful. “at least give us a chance to redeem ourselves. look, we’ll help clean up the rest of the mess.”
you sigh and nod, it’s the least they could do but you won't protest. turning around, you glance at sunghoon, who was now storing away the liquor he had bought and the leftover bottles. 
“...except, it looks like you’ve finished.” heeseung grins. “thanks, darling.”
you shoulders fall in defeat, “i fucking hate you.”
he chuckles loudly as you study the room. he was right. you had completely cleaned the kitchen, minus the few liquor bottles that sunghoon had just stored away.
“no, no. she missed one thing.” sunghoon calls out causing the two of you to whip your heads in his direction. he crouches down and picks up the can that bounced out of the trash bag earlier and tosses it in the trash. “hah, how funny is that? it was right next to the bag too.”
heeseungs no longer holding back his laughter. you question whether or not the dude is blasted out of his mind right now because you definitely didn’t find a single thing about this funny.
“hey, chill.” sunghoon butts in, “i’ll wipe down the counters and shit.”
you turn to face him, “did you by chance buy any cleaning supplies while out?”
“no, why?”
heeseung laughs louder, wiping at his eyes. 
“i really don’t understand what could possibly be so funny about any of this.”
his laughter eventually dies down, finally shutting up. “sorry, sorry.” he clears his throat. “but seriously, thanks for cleaning up. you’re a real one for that.”
you hum and let out a sarcastic sure, heeseung nods and walks past you, patting your shoulder causing you to scrunch your face in disgust. you turn to follow his figure with your eyes, but you catch sunghoon staring at you.
“what?”
“hm, nothing. just wondering when you’re gonna snap out of your little tantrum.” he responds calmly, leaning against the counter. “it’s getting old, to be honest with you.”
you bite your lip, holding back a response to him. you watch as heeseung wipes his hand on a paper towel, throwing it on the counter right after.
sunghoon sighs dramatically, shaking his head. “seriously, what’s the big deal? nobody here is forcing you to clean up after us.”
“but it’s all the time,” you groan. “the constant parties and get-togethers you host while i’m trying to sleep after a long day or studying– then having to come out and clean it all up because you three are nowhere to be seen? i can only deal with so much.”
his expression hardens and heeseung leans against the counter with a bored expression, “well, maybe if you’d let loose for once and joined in on the fun every once in a while, instead of holing yourself up in your room like a hermit, you wouldn’t be so uptight.”
“fuck off.”
sunghoon scoffs, “my point exactly. you’re so uptight and bitchy— it’s not fun. you aren’t better than us for that.”
“sorry i don’t want to be involved in your weird ass parties.” you respond with a shrug.
“such a princess,” heeseung giggles, “always complaining, never participating. seriously, they aren’t as bad as you make them seem.” 
sunghoon nods in agreement, “yeah, i’m telling you that you’d be able to tolerate us a lot more if you cared to let go of that boring, angry personality of yours and showed up.”
you throw your hands up, more than done with the conversation. “whatever, i don’t care anymore. just… just clean up a little more. it’s all i ask.”
heeseung pouts exaggeratedly, eyeing the way you surrender in defeat “oh come on, princess. don’t be like that.” he tries to sound apologetic, “we’re only messing around with you.”
“yeah! we don’t care if you prude around alone in your room!” sunghoon adds, “but just for you, we’ll clean up after ourselves, your highness.”
“you both are childish.” you spit out, biting the inside of your cheeks as the frustration threatens to spill out in the form of tears.
heeseung grins, not at all put off by your insult, “childish? rich coming from the girl who’s about to cry from a little teasing.” he taunts, voice laced with amusement.
you scoff in response, turning around so you could leave the situation and escape to your room, but sunghoon has other plans as he steps right in front of you. his arms automatically wrap around your waist to steady you, his face mere inches away from you as you look up at him, shooting him a glare.
“where do you think you’re going, princess?” he flashes you a knowing smile, voice low and teasing.
you attempt to lean away from his face that only seems to inch closer, jumping slightly when the back of your head comes into contact with heeseungs chin. “to my room– away from the two of you.”
“oh, don’t let us stop you then.” heeseung grins from behind, his cheek nuzzling against your hair. 
“let me go then?”
“but we weren’t done,” sunghoon attempts to feign a pout, but his smirk grows stronger as he studies the way your body reacts to him, “we still have to thank you for cleaning the mess up.”
heeseung hums against your ear, “seriously. how sweet of you, doll.”
“you can thank me by leaving me alone.” you mumble, though you do nothing to back away from the situation. you couldn’t deny the way your heartbeat sped up from being sandwiched between the two, or the way your core pulsed from the way sunghoon traced small patterns into your side.
sunghoon chuckles, all knowing of what was running through your mind, “aw, but where’s the fun in that?” he asks, hands sliding down to your hips, giving them a teasing squeeze. “we love spending time with our favorite roomie.”
your hands fall on top of his, unsure on whether or not you should remove them from your hips. his eyes follow the movements of your hands, letting out a soft chuckle as he watches the way your mind struggles against the need you feel for the two.
“mm, not so fast baby.” heeseung purrs, his hot breath hitting the shell of your ear. “what did we say? gotta give you a proper thank you.”
“how?”
sunghoon smiles, looking at heeseung before turning his attention back to you. “they say actions speak louder than words,” he responds. “we’ll make sure to make it very clear just how grateful we are for you.”
you gulp as he responds, your thighs clenching together at the tone of his voice. the gaze in his eyes told you exactly what the two men wanted from you, the way they looked at you as if you were prey.
heeseung grows impatient from behind, his face nuzzling against your skin as he peppers kisses down your neck until he reaches your shoulder, biting the skin causing you to let out a gasp. he chuckles darkly before tucking his finger under the thin strap of your tank top and letting it fall off your shoulder.
he lifts his head and switches to your other shoulder, resting his chin on your shoulder as he travels his hand down your torso, reaching the waistband of your shorts.
your automatic response is to grab his hands but sunghoon shakes his head and grabs them, linking his fingers between yours and bringing them up to his shoulders. he leans in closer, his breath ghosting your cheek.
sunghoon begins planting soft but deliberate kisses against your skin, following the trail that heeseung had left earlier, kissing and sucking the bite mark left by the other male.
the man behind you takes the chance, shoving his hand down your shorts that he had undone moments before while you were distracted. he grins when he doesn’t feel any other fabric beneath your shorts.
“isn’t that just convenient?” he grins, giddy at the fact that you weren’t wearing underwear. 
“w-wait,” you stutter out, suddenly aware of where you were standing.
sunghoon grips one of your hands, guiding it over his chest, “shh, it’s fine.”
heeseungs hand dips lower, his middle finger sliding through your slit. he lets out a groan before removing his hand from your shorts but quickly yanks them down, letting them fall to your ankles.
you let out a small yelp due to the quickness of the male. he glides his finger from your dripping hold, gathering your slick and moving to your clit, tapping it a few times before pressing down. 
“can’t believe you’re already this wet just from a little bit of touching,” he groans against your shoulder. “really thought we’d have to ease you into this– but you wanted this bad, huh?”
sunghoon smirks against your neck, lifting his head, wanting to see your face as heeseung pleasures you with his fingers, “c’mon, don’t tease her. poor girl probably hasn’t been touched properly in awhile.”
“is that true?” the male behind you questions softly but teasing, “were you just waiting for one of us to fuck you stupid?”
their teasing voices combined with heeseungs fingers massaging at your clit cause you to let out a soft whine. one buck of your hips has sunghoon reaching down and holding your hips in place for heeseung to continue his attack on your sensitive bud.
“you don’t even have to respond,” sunghoon mutters, “look at the way you’re whining and squirming.”
heeseung slips a finger in your core, pumping a few times before slipping another one inside of you. the feeling of your warm cunt walls wrapped around his fingers is enough to send him reeling, he grinds his hips into your ass with a grunt. 
the male in front of you has to tighten his grip on your hips, rolling his eyes. you let out a loud moan when heeseung curls his fingers inside of you, he brings his other hand to cover your mouth.
“don’t wanna wake jakey up, do you?” his voice is low, hot breath hitting the side of your face. you shake your head desperately as he continues to finger fuck you, scissoring and curling his fingers, hitting the sensitive spot inside of you with ease.
“look at her, hee.” sunghoon mumbles, admiring the way you look between the two men, “so pretty like this, isn’t she? if i knew this was a good way to get her to shut up, i'd have done it earlier.”
heeseung chuckles darkly, lips trailing against your neck once more, “she’s so fuckin’ greedy too. literally dripping down my hand… aren’t you, baby?”
you let out a muffled whine and nod your head shamelessly. 
“yeah? you’re doing so good like this,” he continues, “but i think you need more.”
heeseung pulls his fingers out of you and removes his hand from your mouth. you’re about to question him but he’s pushing you forward while pulling your hips back against him. sunghoon holds you steady as the male behind you undoes his pants.
“take your time, hee.” sunghoon comments, slowly losing his patience. “jay’s gonna be home soon.”
“‘m fucking trying,” he mutters in response, successfully freeing his hardened cock with his one hand. “hold her still and shut up.”
sunghoon rolls his head back in irritation and tightens his grip on you.
“you’ll need to cover her mouth too. i’m not sharing her between you and jake today.”
your taller roommate doesn’t respond again but brings his hand up to your mouth with a smirk. you whimper softly through his hand when you feel heeseung slide his tip through your wetness, gathering it on his cock. he rocks his hips a few times, teasing your clit before catching onto your hole and slowly pushing in.
“fuuuck,” he hisses. “she’s so damn tight, sunghoon.”
“just fuck her,” sunghoon responds impatiently, he tilts his head down at you. “that’s what you want right, babygirl?”
you let out a muffled grunt when heeseung bottoms out inside of you. he waits only a few moments before pulling out almost completely, then pushing back inside of you with more force and speed. 
the two men have you perfectly held in place, controlling the movements of your body as heeseung speeds up his thrusts. each rock of his hips draws out a moan from you, covered by sunghoons hand.
heeseung groans softly, his pace never slowing as he takes all the pleasure he can get from your body. “she’s seriously so tight.” he growls, his grip tightening on your body. “feel that? feel how well you wrap around my cock, baby?”
your eyes squeeze shut from the pleasure. your cunt continues to squeeze around his cock as he pounds into you. sunghoon watches the way his roommates cock disappears inside of you, the way your juices glisten everytime he pulls out before slamming back in.
his own cock twitches in his pants, he’s so painfully hard and getting impatient. sunghoon wishes it were just him here instead of heeseung, wishing it were him being the one to fuck you– and only him. you let out a high pitch whine as heeseung speeds up his pace, his tip hitting your g-spot deliciously. he brings a hand down to rub at you clit, causing you to jump from the overwhelming pleasure. 
“mm, she jus’ gets tighter.” he slurs, drunk on the way your pussy sucks him in. “you like that, don’t you? shit.. y’gonna make me cum if you keep doing that.”
your eyes are shut, in a complete daze from the way his cock is fucking you. sunghoon smirks at the sight, in love with the way you’re fully enjoying every second of this.
“minutes ago you were about to rip our heads off,” he coos, “now you’re over here drooling on my hand over some cock. just a little slut, aren't you? maybe i was wrong about you being a prude.”
heeseung’s barely keeping it together behind you as his hips meet your ass with haste, hissing and groaning with each thrust. he’s uncoordinated and sloppy yet still hitting that spot deep inside of you, throwing your body towards sunghoon, who keeps a bruising grip on you as the other male pounds into you.
your past self would be embarrassed to see you now, yet, you couldn’t feel an ounce of shame at the moment. it feels as if heeseung’s fucking all the frustration out of you.
it’s dirty. the way the two men have you sandwiched in the kitchen— straight out of a cheap porno. every time you start to think about jay or jake strolling in and catching the three of you, it only makes your core throb more with need.
“what are you thinking about?” sunghoon whispers, leaning closer, offering his chest for your head to lean against. “hmm, baby? you thinking about something else while fucking yourself on heeseungs cock?”
the male mentioned lets out a loud groan, gripping your hips and pulling you back harder against him. you could tell he was close, as were you. your hands tug on the fabric of sunghoons shirt, attempting to pull yourself up. but with his hand on your mouth, you can’t let them know so you rely on your body language. 
“gonna cum for me?” heeseung grumbles, leaning closer to you. his thrusts are deep and rough as he chases his high. “c’mon, cum on this cock…” 
you feel your cunt flutter around him as you hit your peak, a muffled squeal leaving your mouth as you finally cum. heeseung pants, giving you a few more thrusts before pulling out completely and fisting his cock until he’s cumming all over your lower back and ass.
sunghoon removes his hand from your mouth causing you to take a deep breath, he wipes his hand on his pant leg which goes unnoticed by you. 
“jesus-” heeseung breathes out from behind you, hand gripping the counter. “fuck, that was good. why didn’t you tell me you felt this good before?”
you don’t reply to him– you just continue to lean against sunghoon as you regain all composure. the tall male keeps a hand on your waist as the other slowly unbuckles his belt. your other roommate redresses himself after using a paper towel to wipe himself down, giving your ass a small smack in the process.
“yo,” sunghoon calls out to him, earning a raised eyebrow in response. he cocks his head behind him. “keep jake in his room, yeah?”
“now?”
the man you were still using as support scoffs, “yes, dude. now..”
heeseungs stands there for a moment, looking at you as you finally turn around, slowly reaching to pull your shorts up. he clicks his tongue and walks off with a groan.
as soon as his footsteps fade away, sunghoon yanks your arm away from the article of clothing and pushes you against the kitchen counter. you gasp when the cold countertop makes contact with your skin. “s-sunghoon!”
he smacks his lips and pushes your sticky lower back down to keep you still, “you seriously thought i was about to let you walk away? after you made me watch him fuck you like that?”
he lifts his now cum covered hand off your back, studying it for a few moments. “not gonna let me have any fun? especially after you used me like a fucking wall?” he grips your face with his other hand, leaning over you as he shoves his fingers in your mouth.
the thick salty flavor hits your tongue immediately and you close your lips around his soaked fingers, the rest of the cum on his hand completely coating your chin and jaw. 
“you like that?” sunghoon chuckles darkly. “you know how pathetic you look right now?”
you groan around his fingers as he rocks his hips against you, grinding his bare cock in your slick. he doesn’t waste a second before shoving himself inside of you causing you to bite down on his fingers from the sudden full feeling once again.
sunghoon hisses in response, pulling out before roughly thrusting into you. the corner of the counter is digging into your hip but you couldn’t be bothered to resituate yourself. he pulls his fingers out of your mouth and snakes his hand in between your thighs, pressing against your clit as he starts to pound into you. his other hand is on the back of your neck, a tight grip as he uses it to stabilize himself.
your own cum is dripping down your thighs as sunghoon’s cock forces it out with each thrust. it’s truly a struggle to stay quiet, your moans are coming out in rough whimpers and deep breaths. you lay your upper body flat against the counter and hide your face in your arms to help muffle your sounds of pleasure.
though it wouldn’t even matter if anyone could hear your cries because the sound of wet skin slapping against each other could surely be heard from the other side of the neighborhood. 
“fuck, you’re taking me so good right now. heeseung loosened you up for me, didn’t he?”  sunghoons voice is low and rough, almost stuttering over his words. “so fuckin’ greedy for cock– look at you.”
if it weren’t for your arms, your face would be squashed into the hard countertops from the sheer force of his hand around the back of your neck pushing it down. sunghoon doesn’t notice, nor does he care about his roughness because truly all he cares about is cumming. 
you can hear the door slam and you try to lift your hand, in sheer panic, but sunghoon shoves it back down with a grumble. 
“t’sup?” sunghoon lets out a sigh and throws his head back.
“nothing,” the voice, belonging to jay, responds. he throws a few envelopes on the counter and sighs. “another noise complaint– like dude, who fucking cares? they act like the cops are gonna bust us or something.”
never in a million years did you think you would be getting backshots while two people had a completely casual conversation as you were between them.
sunghoon groans, his pace barely slowing, “my parents own half this fuckin’ neighborhood.”
“that’s what i’m saying! these complaints are useless.” jay responds, an annoyed tone lacing his voice. “is that– y’know what, i’m tired. clean the counters when you’re done.”
and with that, jay is walking away. you only hope he’s heading to his bedroom. however, your entire body is hot with embarrassment yet you feel yourself about to cum any second.
“fuck– sunghoon! s-slow down.” you barely cry out as you cream around his cock. he rolls his eyes, not that you could see, before pulling out completely. 
you take a deep breath before he grabs you and spins you around, pushing you to your knees. your hands fly to his thighs, trying to catch yourself before bruising your knees. 
sunghoon spares you a wicked smirk before tapping the tip of his cock against your lips, in which you invite him in with zero hesitance. he doesn’t start slow, immediately pushing his cock to your throat, enough to bring tears to your eyes before pulling out to let you breathe.
and he does it again. and again. until you're coughing around his cock.
“yeah, just like that, baby.” the male sighs, hand gripping your hair. he lets you take another deep breath before shoving his cock deeper down your throat. “look at you gagging– fuck, this is so good.”
he repeats his actions until his cock is twitching with the need to cum. sunghoon gives a few thrusts before pulling back slightly and cumming all over your tongue and throat. his release was almost too much for you, but he didn’t care that it was dripping out of your mouth, or that you were borderline choking on it.
“swallow.”
you try to shake your head no but he only tugs on your hair, “you can.”
shakily, you cover your mouth as you gulp, swallowing his sticky release. sunghoon chuckles, completely satisfied. 
“you’re so fucking easy, you know that?” he cooes. his thumb, sticky with heeseungs earlier release, wipes at your tears. you can only stare at him as he continues to degrade you. “oh, don’t be ashamed, princess, it’s perfect for us.”
you wipe at the corner of your mouth before grabbing your shorts that are laid close by. grabbing the counter edge above, you pull yourself up, not at all wanting to ask for sunghoons help. he leans against the counter, fixing his belt, completely uninterested in you.
slipping the shorts on felt useless in front of him. what was there to hide at this point?
“i’m gonna shower.”
“yeah, sure. i’ll try not to use any hot water for the next hour.”
you give him a nod. well, this is fucking weird. but you honestly would rather take this than it be awkward. genuinely, you would rather not have him force himself to give you soft and sweet aftercare. 
“jays cooking tonight!” sunghoon calls out to you as you head back to your room. you roll your eyes and push your door open.
you: 
    hypothetically, i have this friend who wanted to move out of her current place because she HATES her roommates but she just fucked 2 of them…. at the same time and suddenly doesnt want to leave
from: chaewon 💓
       what the FUCK did u just say to me
you:
     so basically im fucked
🍊: @filmnings @deobitifull @leov3rse @hooniehon @roslayy @strxwbloody @cutiepatootiejungwon @jakeswifez @yuriknows @d-dilemma (bold couldn’t be tagged / taglist open!)
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melminli · 2 days ago
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Love To Dream
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summary - there was this one girl that thanos really wanted, though, she didn't really want to have anything to do with him. unfortunately, that made him want her even more.
pairing: (thanos) choi su-bong x fem. reader
word count: 1.5k
contains: modern au, mention of drugs, enemies to lovers vibes ig, crack, yearning
a/n: i don't even know what this is tbh but I felt like we all deserved some laughs ;)
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Life was good - life was really fucking good, Thanos thought to himself as he winked charmingly at a group of hot girls. They had been looking in his direction for a while now while giggling, clearly interested in him. He continued to watch them as he sipped his drink, the club music pumping through his veins like adrenaline. Thanos's eyes darkened as the girls continued to cast lustful glances in his direction - he knew he could easily get more than one of them into bed tonight and why wouldn't he? It hadn't been long since his last performance on stage, reminding everyone present once again of his legendary status in this club.
However, his attention was focused somewhere entirely else after the most breathtaking person ever decided to walk past him. The pick-up lines he had been thinking of for the group, vanished from his mind after this angel showed up in front of him since the other girls could barely compare. The whole thing looked like something out of a scene from a Kdrama because time seemed to pass in slow motion and your hair was swinging in the air like that of a princess - which would have been the perfect time for some product placement because it just looked so damn soft.
Thanos had his mouth wide open in shock and put a hand over his heart to check if it was still beating while his eyes never left your figure. You - who was leaning prettily against the bar right next to him as you ordered something from the bartender.
“Hey.” he finally recovered from the moment and casually moved towards you. “I'd introduce myself, but I assume you already know me.” he talked to you with his flirty face as soon as you looked up at him.
You smiled shyly. “Yeah, I watched your performance,” you answered him and seemed quite grateful that he was speaking to you right now. “You were pretty good.” you giggled slightly as you complimented him.
“Yeah, that's just how I am.” he sighed as he looked around the room as if it was a burden for him to have to live with all the recognition. His eyes met yours again and he tried to impress you by unpacking a few bars while emphasizing them with the movements of his hands. “Girl, I know you and I are meant to be because after I looked at your pretty face everything stopped being. If only you saw what I can see, you'll understand why I want you so desperately.” he rapped to you, stealing the last line from some One Direction song, but you didn't need to know that.
You shyly put your hands in front of your face to hide your smile. “Oh my god, that was so incredibly sexy, I'm so horny for you right now.” the words came out of your mouth and made Thanos screw up his face weirdly for a second.
Because first of all, those vulgar words didn't match your innocent demeanor in the slightest - and secondly, you said exactly what Thanos had imagined you would say - it was actually a bit creepy since you literally said it word for word. Thanos hardly thought that he could foresee the future all of a sudden or that you could maybe read minds, though he decided to ignore the whole thing as soon as you started touching his chest softly with your hands. He wanted you so bad.
“You don't even know what you're doing to me right now,” he whispered to you while you felt him so sensually and he was about to kiss you, hadn't you stopped his lips with your hand as you laughed into his face. “I think you should wake up now. Otherwise, the pink elephant will keep handing out balloons to people.” You told him, pointing behind him to where the bar was supposed to be.
“Hah?” he asked you confused and turned around while continuing to hold you in his arms, but all he saw were a few dogs breakdancing - and that was nothing out of the ordinary. He continued to look at the scene with a grin, even though some inner voice inside him was stressing out about kissing you immediately as if he was running out of time. He finally turned back to you and was about to continue when he suddenly heard a man speak. “You really should wake up man.” Nam-gyu's voice told him and Thanos only caught himself almost kissing him after he took a closer look. He just pushed him away from him in disgust and then -
Thanos woke up from his sleep, bathed in sweat, when he saw your face in his field of vision. “Finally, you're sleeping like a dead man. There's some guy at the door who wants to talk to you,” you told him as he sat up tiredly while slowly recovering from his strange dream.
That's right. You weren't just some hot girl he met at the club, you were his fucking roommate. Thanos discreetly pushed more blanket over his lap as he tried to shoo you away from his room with a wave of his hand. “Yeah, yeah - I'll be right there, just - give me a moment,” he said without looking you in the face.
You just sighed slightly and complied with his request, though not without letting him know how unhappy you were. “I told you to stop giving our address to these dealers. I don't like it when they show up here,” you grumbled under your breath before dashing out and closing the door behind you.
After that, Thanos let out a very heavy sigh and stroked his face aggressively. “Now she's showing up in my dreams, too? Fucking great.” he grumbled to himself and got up from the bed to put on some decent clothes. His eyes met his own reflection as he pulled a shirt over his head. “Get a grip man, what's wrong with you?” he asked himself as he grimaced in annoyance. “You're Thanos the destroyer, not some kind of -”
“Stop taking so long and come here already!” your voice suddenly shouted, coming through his door slightly muffled.
He looked even more annoyed at that and made his way to the living room while shouting back at you. “I'm fucking on it, alright!” and it only took a few loud steps from him to your front door for him to yank it open to fix the damn problem. He looked at his friend, completely bothered by his presence. “What do you want?” he asked him and was kinda glad that it at least wasn't Nam-gyu because he just really didn't want to see his face at the moment and probably for a little while.
“Hello, to you, too.” the man in front of him greeted him, already used to his weird mood swings. “I just wanted to do you a favor by bringing you some of the pills you wanted because last time you almost beat me up when I didn't have them with me,” he explained, holding the bag, which Thanos grabbed instantly before inspecting it more closely. “Don't act like you didn't deserve it, I paid you the money in advance, man. Of course, I was angry,” he complained again and would probably have beaten him up for real right now if he had ruined his morning over something completely unnecessary. However, he would still have to make sure that something like this didn't happen again so that you didn't have another reason to kick him out of the apartment.
“You know, maybe this was meant to be. Otherwise, I wouldn't have been greeted by an absolute hottie today,” he said happily as he stood there, still interested. “Is she your cousin or something? Do you want to introduce me to her?” he asked and was quite confident in the way he acted, but Thanos just looked at him emotionlessly for a few seconds until he slammed the door in his face.
"Okay, he's gone now!" he exclaimed, bored, and made his way into the kitchen, where you were sitting with a cup of coffee or something while scrolling on your phone. "Don't open the door for that guy if he shows up again," he said, grabbing a cold Sprite from the fridge. You just looked at him with a displeased look. He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I'll make sure that he and no one else shows up after today. But, I'm just saying that in case it still somehow happens."
Thanos then opened the can and drank from it while he continued to watch your face from the side. Eventually, he sat down next to you, although, to his dissatisfaction, that didn't seem to get your attention. "Hey, you want to go on a date?" He asked, and you weren't sure how many times he asked you that by now. You kept scrolling on Instagram. "You know my answer to that."
Thanos continued to grin hopefully. "Yes?" he asked and then watched you disappear out of the kitchen with your cup of coffee in your hand - probably to your room. "You should be glad that I'm even asking you! Other girls would die for..." he muffled towards the end before he stopped talking entirely once he realized that you weren't giving him a reaction.
Maybe, I should just go back to sleep, he thought to himself dejectedly, unable to believe that he had actually better chances with you in dreams with pink elephants and breakdancing dogs.
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power-handmaiden · 2 days ago
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Chuck Tingle interview
OK, here is the FINAL 2024 Tingles My Butt post, which I've been pretty hyped for. I still kind of can't believe this. While I was figuring out how I'd move on from 2024, @drchucktingle generously offered to answer some questions of mine to commemorate the end of my tingler project! Here they are!
-Considering that your process for tinglers is just to write it out and not stress about proofreading and editing, was it weird for you to see someone decide to go back, examine, and contemplate every single tingler published in the past decade?
the whole dang project was really wonderful for me, for exactly the reason you have just said. tinglers are very STREAM OF CONSCIOUS and only edited with one quick pass so while i think this adds to their honesty and rawness it also means that my time with them is limited. really watching someone go back through them at this depth was like reading a diary that i have not opened for many years, and it jumps around through time in a very beautiful way. it was very moving
-I love tingler character names. I personally admire how many great ones you come up with. (I never know what to name my ttrpg characters.) You just come up with all these great names that seemingly spring from nowhere, how do you do it?
DANG great question cant believe i have not been asked this before but yes there is a type of name that shows up in the tingleverse that is unusual and has a certain feeling and cadence that is very specific. if i am trotting along with sweet barbara and there is a name of a product or a place or something that has this tone we will say ‘oh thats a tingleverse name.’ the reason i wanted to do this in the books was as a very subtle way of saying these stories exist on a timeline that is RIGHT next to ours, so in some ways it is exactly the same as our world but there are these little cultural differences with things like chocolate milk and spaghetti and then with the names. you will have buckaroos like justin and sarah trotting along next to buckaroos named corb torbins-quill or borto lart.
-So, as a reader, reading from 2014 to now, old tinglers and new tinglers feel different to me. I believe you when you say tinglers have always been sincere, but they feel MORE sincere than they used to be. Like, I feel like there was some self-consciousness and irony in some of the early tinglers that you've since let go of and embraced the Chuck Tingle voice more. I don't know, am I imagining this, or does this square with your tingler writing journey? If it does, what has that process been like for you?
i think you are absolutely correct. the intention with tinglers was always to be a place for me to express myself with complete sincerity, but the practical way of HOW to trot like this took a bit of an evolution to arrive at. in other words i knew the basics, but actually refining the best way to express yourself and perform your art takes time. maybe in the same way goin back and watching season one of a tv show can feel very different from season three, even though they are part of the same expression. 
similar thing happened with in my chuck PRESENTATION as well, where my main focus was to stay anonymous so the metaphors i used to talk about my life were still true but laid on much thicker. even my attire was a large gi so that you would not even be able to see my shape, which has obviously changed now because i wear suits these days. all of this was a process of starting in a place i knew was important to me and then peeling off the parts that were not helping the message or expression over time
-Is there anything you could tell us about the significance of Borson Reems? I feel like he's more than just another Buck Trungle/Chuck Tangle/etc but I'm not sure what exactly...
yes borson reems is god. not that i believe in GOD in the way that most buckaroos talk about god (i am agnostic) but within the tingleverse, borson reems is an avatar for the creator of that world. technically i am borson reems, because i am writing the books. the question is: are we all the gods of our own little worlds that we create? i do not know, but when i look around at my buds and the joy and love they bring to various timelines they sure seem like gods to me
-A lot of no-sex tinglers (especially ones that aren't romance-focused) vary in terms of plot and structure a lot more than erotic tinglers. Is your writing process for these stories any different?
same process actually, but the sex scenes in tinglers are about 1500 to 2000 words long, and total tingler length is 4000 words which means if you are not including that portion you are going to have to come up with some creative way to fill that space in the story and a new axis for story to turn on. so the variety comes from me getting creative and trying out different axis points
-In "Not Pounded By My Book "Pounded In The Butt By My Non-Fungible Tingler That Is Literally This NFT" Because Of The Current Catastrophic Environmental And Ethical Impact" there are references to an earlier draft of the story that was never released because you ended up disagreeing with the message. Are there any other tinglers that never got finished and/or published, if you'd be willing to talk about any of them?
oh this is a VERY good question. the story of the NFT tingler is that when buckaroos were first talkin on nfts online and nobody really knew what they were, my first thoughts were just ‘oh this is interesting what the heck is this?’ this is my way with most CURRENT EVENTS. and i thought ‘this would be an interesting tingler, i suppose maybe i should make the tingler an ACTUAL nft’. this was in VERY early days so i did not really even understand what an nft was (neither did 99 percent of buckaroos yet honestly). so i looked into it just enough to actually MAKE a nft tingler that was a real nft and put it out. lasted for about thirty seconds before buckaroos were messaging saying ‘oh this is bad chuck you should look into what this is’ and i DID look into it and thought’ oh yeah this is terrible nevermind’. i took down the original and thought ‘well THIS is what art is all about. this is where i thrive in a world of moving living art that is in communication with itself’. so i dove into the research and actually started to understand NFTS and then i repurposed the story into a strongly anti-nft tingler and put that on out instead.
as far as OTHER tinglers that kind of move and breathe and live like this, in communication with the audience, GAY T-REX LAW FIRM is another very good example. that one i wrote early on and i think it was kind of in the model of something like fifty shade of grey, where issues of kink and consent and communication are not really handled well. i think at the time it came out the story was okay, but as time went on it always kind of bothered me and finally i thought ‘i love art that exists in the REAL WORLD and changes and evolves, so lets rewrite that story and fix some of these mistakes.’ honestly it is something i wish more artists would be open to. its okay to let something hold strong against a changing timeline, but it is also okay to explore what its like to take the notes that time gives us
-This one is about Chuck Tingle that exists in deeper layers of the Tingleverse that operate on tingler logic: what does the location inside his/your butt look like?
probably a nice mid-century modern home up in laurel canyon neighborhood of los angeles. kind of quiet and small like a cabin but also very cozy, like the kind of place where you would put on a crosby stills nash and young record on vinyl and gaze out into the woods for a while then walk down the hill for dinner at a little cafe where you spot some actor from a 60s tv show also having dinner in the corner booth. this basically sounds like the start of a tingler and in that tingler i will say the actor would be a bigfoot.
-OK this one is very self-indulgent but if you could help settle this frequent point of discussion I have with my wife- where do the following fit in the Tingleverse bigfoot/dinosaur/unicorn/living object(/human/does not apply?) taxonomy?
-a ghost of a regular human
-a regular human vampire
-a human/fish mermaid
-a sentient winged horse
-a sentient centipede large enough to wrap around a mountain several times (she is handsome)
alright lets trot through these. a GHOST is not one of the four tingle types so you can have a ghost racecar or a ghost unicorn or a ghost bigfoot. ghosts are outside of the four types and do not have a classification
a VAMPIRE is also outside of the four types. so you can have a vampire bigfoot or, of course, a vampire night bus. does not strictly fall into any of the four main categories
MERMAIDS are technically a long lost species of unicorn I DONT MAKE THE RULES I JUST EXPLAIN THEM. this makes the MERMOPED tingler a little confusing but i had to pick a category and that one went into living object. now that i mention it possibly the only tingler that is technically a double category of unicorn/living object.
WINGED HORSE is easy, thats a pegasus which is a species of unicorn just like a mermaid
a SENTIENT CENTIPEDE LARGE ENOUGH TO WRAP AROUND A MOUNTAIN is an ancient creature, therefore dinosaur tingler
-My other self-indulgent question: do you have a favorite bug? (Or second-favorite if you count Mothman as a bug)
i love finding spiders in the house and giving them a pet because they are doing a good job livin their lives doin their thing. close second would be a pretty ladybug
-Any thoughts on what tinglers will be like in 2025? Do you expect to be writing a lot of political tinglers again, like post-2016?
honestly i really do not like writing specifically political tinglers anymore, and the amount that i write has gradually dropped over time (i think ALL tinglers are political but in a different way). so honestly i think i will write a few political tinglers but not many. my hypothesis on this is that my HORROR NOVELS are very very political and so maybe i get a lot of these ideas out of my system that way now. when it comes to tinglers i just wanna explore my OWN mind and heart and butt more
THANK YOU for these wonderful questions and thank you for your tingler-a-day project it was so moving and powerful. what a treat it was an honor to be a part of something so beautiful. THIS PROVES LOVE IS REAL
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webzazes · 2 days ago
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making this danny phantom teehee ❤️
My family always seemed like the most normal people in the world. But, we're filthy rich. I'm not a fan of it, but it's whatever. At least I have funds for passion projects, and hopefully, in due time, my own greenhouse (I've wanted one for years).
I actually only learned what really made us so successful recently, though. Ever since I was young, I was told over and over again that it was due to an invention, something useful and prominent in everyday life. However, it turns out that we're so wealthy because of black magic.
The thought alone inspired me so much, and I was already into gothic and fantastical things- it practically tripled my obsession. My parents, however, thought I was "too obvious" or "too gloomy" for our happy little family, especially because of my style of dress, but I was dead-set on breaking away from the norm after I learned how, well, not normal we are under wraps.
This made me a loner at school. I was different, and I wasn't a fan of going out of my way for friendships, let alone any unnecessary social interaction. I kept to myself, and became "the weird goth girl". Honestly, I was happy with that.
But, being a loner led me to Danny. And, of course, his friend Tucker. They accepted me- although we did butt heads at times, as is natural. We'd go to Danny's house, hear about his parents' work, and especially, their obsession with ghosts.
As someone getting into the occult, (I was actively training myself with books from our family library) I was interested. Very interested. I knew about souls, zombies, and demons, but not so much about ghosts themselves, the physical representation of a consciousness and soul tied down to Earth.
So, when Danny brought us to his basement to show us the "ghost portal" his parents were working on, I was excited. Really excited. Of course, I didn't let that show, I figured it might be as dumb as all of the other Fenton tech, and I wasn't expecting it to be dangerous, either.
But, when Danny stepped in to try and turn it on, I realized it was, in fact, dangerous. Very much so. The sheer amount of force I felt when the portal opened was almost painful- but never could be as painful as the sight of what happened to Danny because of it. He looked almost burned in places, and practically wilted to the ground.
He was limp. And he didn't look right, either- his hair was a shocking, clear white, and his eyes were green. At the time, I didn't even notice that the protective suit he was wearing had changed. But I could 100 percent tell that he was dead. Stone cold and limp, dead.
Tucker looked to be on the verge of tears, but I didn't care. I had to do something! I could feel some kind of residual energy on Danny's body, and I thought, "a source". A source of power for me to use, something I could heal him with.
Healing was my passion. I've always cared for life. Especially in this instance- Danny wasn't allowed to die. He couldn't die. I don't know what I would've done if he did..
So, in a split second, I was by his side. I was full healer mode, to the point I knew I couldn't let Tucker see my face. If he saw my eyes, well, he certainly wouldn't have been able to forget them any time soon..
I grasped at the energy left on Danny, and I made it mine. My emotions made me strong, determined, and I used that energy to successfully make an offering to Danny's soul. It was like summoning a demon- I'd seen my mom do it before- but more intimate, as I touched his spirit, poured its power into his bloodstream, and pulled at it, as I tied it to his body. I could almost feel the ectoplasm in my hands- and that's when I realized what the residual energy really was. Ectoplasm.
The ghost portal was real.
All in all, the whole process of "fixing" Danny, well.. it felt like nothing. And it really was quick. Thankfully, once I told Tucker that Danny was breathing, he didn't think to question the wait. He said nothing. And I couldn't bring myself to say that Danny was still cold..
So, hurriedly, we took Danny to his room, and told his parents he was tired. We said that he fell asleep while playing games with us. That was it.
That is how it all started.
You always wanted to be a Healer. Unfortunately, your dad was an Necromancer and your mother a Demon Summoner. So your healing was a bit… unconventional to say the least.
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strang3lov3 · 2 days ago
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The First Taste
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Roman offers you money if you just let him put the tip in. Just the tip, that's all (it's not all).
Tags - smut, loss of virginity, virgin!reader, virginity kink, big dick roman roy, dare i call that cock gargantuan, ludicrously capacious, even? Unprotected piv, fingering, blow jobs, cunnilingus, hand jobs, nipple stim, just the tip (it’s never just the tip) dubcon, manipulation, deception, coercion, betrayal, Roman solicits sex from reader and is also insensitive about stds, pay him no mind. I made myself soaking wet every day while writing this so. Do what you will with that information. 5.8k words. A/N - This is just...smut. Beginning to end. I’m gonna be working on stepdaddy after this, probably write a stepdaddy sick fic cuz I feel kinda like shit. Kisses to all yall sluts 😘
Finally, some fucking quiet. For now. 
The couple in the hotel room next to yours has been going at it all night, a marathon of fucking. Endless moans, rhythmic squeaking of the bed becoming louder and faster, then quieter and slower. This couple makes you wonder if their room is the honeymoon suite or something, the way they’re fucking like a couple of newly-wed bunnies. You rest against the plush headboard, closing your stinging eyes momentarily. 
You dipped from the wedding an hour or so ago, maybe closer to two hours at this point. It’s about midnight now. You’re alone in your room, crinkling the once neatly made bedding as you play a dumb little game on your phone. Your mind wanders as you mindlessly tap the screen, thinking about what the couple next door is doing. What he’s doing to her, what she’s doing to him. How good it all feels, probably. You wonder what it’s like. 
Knock. Knock knock. Knock knock. Knock knock–
Roman. You don’t even have to look through the peephole to know it’s him. Nobody else knocks like that, and nobody else would show up at your door at this particular hour. You sigh as you get out of bed, taking heavy steps toward the door before opening it. 
“Evening, sexpot. You have something of mine and I’d like it back, please and thank you.” 
Roman’s still wearing the outfit he wore during the wedding, though missing his suit jacket and tie. The sleeves of his white button down shirt are rolled above his elbows, there’s an extra button undone. Once neatly slicked back, his hair is now disheveled, a few loose strands falling over his eyebrows. His eyes are half-lidded, lips curled into that smug, casual, infuriatingly handsome smirk he always wears. He looks gorgeous. 
“I do?” you ask, thinking before remembering quickly. “Oh, shit. Yeah, I do.” You open the door wider and make space to allow him to follow behind you, Roman first closing the door. You unplug his charger from the wall outlet and wrap the cord in a figure-eight around your fingers, some habit you’re not sure where or when you picked up. Roman holds out his hand and you place the charger in his palm. “So is the wedding finally over?”
“Mhm. You vanished on me, though, Cinderella. I thought I’d get at least a dance out of you but you stood me up, you heartbreaker, you. Felt like a virgin on prom night,” Roman laments with a dramatic flair, no real hurt in his tone. “But I’ll live. Me and some bridesmaid-chick totally dry humped on the dance floor, so it all worked out.”
You know he’s teasing, probably lying. Embellishing the truth. But it makes you squirm just the same, and you’re not totally sure why. You could be a little jealous, maybe. But there’s another reason, too.
“Anyway, uh. Thanks. I’ll leave you to it,” Roman says, toying with the charger cord. 
“No, thank you. Came in hand–” 
“Oh, fuck, like that. Just like that, harder, harder, fuck, ohhhh!” 
You’re interrupted by the sounds of your temporary neighbor’s moans that you’ve become very well-acquainted with. “Oh my god,” you mumble, rolling your eyes. 
Roman’s lips curl into an even wider smile, his eyes lighting up as he raises his eyebrows. “Oh, nice!” he says, giggling, “Man. That’s awesome. Lucky you, with your front row seat to the show. Maybe there’s a hole in the wall behind this mirror or something. You should see if you can watch.”
“They’ve been going at it for hours,” you deadpan. 
Roman nods in approval, that big, stupid smile still on his lips. “Awh, fuck yeah. Good for them. You should ask to join. We both could, actually. Let’s go knock.”
Your cheeks heat up at the idea, even knowing Roman’s not serious. Probably not serious, at least. Roman notices this, takes mental notes of your flustered expression, how you look anywhere but at him. The shifting of your feet, the unnecessary movements your body makes as you squirm. “Ahh, too shy. I get it,” Roman says. “So you’re just - you’re…what, jerking off to it in here, all by your lonesome? Fuck, did I interrupt? How rude, let me get out–”
“No!”
“No? You want me to stay?”
“No - you - I–” you huff, closing your eyes as you inhale and exhale a deep breath. “I meant that I’m not…you know. Doing that.”
Roman’s eyes sparkle. “It’s okay, you can admit it. I know you ladies are more, you know - audio than visual.” He wiggles his fingers by his ears as he paces slowly around the room, inspecting the slice of cake you brought back with you from the wedding, swiping a bit of frosting off the plate with his finger before sucking on it.
“Stop it, Roman.”
“I think I’m gonna stay a while, if you don’t mind. Listen to the music.”
“Whatever, knock yourself out. I’m not sleeping as long as they’re still doing it.” 
True to his word, Roman listens intently to the sounds of the couple fucking. You wouldn’t expect anything else from him. He makes little faces of intrigue or surprise at the noises, the extra loud moans or the occasional smack. You regret allowing him to stay. This is so fucking awkward, so you distract yourself by tidying up your already-pristine hotel room. Rearranging some glasses that haven’t been touched, then pouring yourself another glass of water even though you’re not actually thirsty. Roman notices all of this, too. At some point his attention shifts from the muffled noises coming from the other side of the wall to you, how you nervously flit around the room. He decides to up the tension, to make it all worse for you.
“We should fuck,” he says plainly. “You know, louder than them. Establish our dominance. There’s a bed right there.” 
It takes you a second to reply. “Funny,” is all you say, your voice coming out quietly and not very confident. Fuck. 
“You’re very shy about it, you know that?”
“Shy about what?”
“Oh, fucking - c’mon. You know what,” he deadpans. “Sex! Coitus. Fornicating. Love mak–”
“No, yeah. I got it–”
“Fucking,” Roman interrupts. “So why are you all shy about it?”
“I’m not - I’m not shy,” you stutter.
“But you are. Because you don’t talk about it, ever. You like, clam up, get all fuckin’ weird and quiet,” Roman says, gesturing to you. “And like right now, you won’t even look at me. It’s almost like you’re nervous or something. Are you?” he pauses, “Nervous, that is?”
You’re feeling defensive now, cornered, as Roman’s wedged himself deep under your skin. “No, I just - what does it matter, Roman?” you snap. Sighing, you sit on the edge of the bed and cross your arms. 
“I just wanna know, that’s all. Just curious,” he replies, tempering his tone to be much less pointed, less mocking. “You know me. No judgement here.”
“I just…don’t feel the need to talk about it, I guess.”
“You can’t even say it,” Roman digs, crossing his arms. “Are you a prude? Is that it?”
“No, Roman, I’m not a prude. It’s just a very personal thing for some people.”
“Naturally.”
“Not that you’d understand,” you bite.
Roman presses a hand against his chest, pretending you’ve just shot him. “Ouch. But yeah, no, I get it.” Roman pauses, then joins you on the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. “Is it herpes?” he whispers. “It’s herpes, isn’t it? You know, there’s no shame in it. I’ve actually created new strains of STDs myself in the course of all of my sexcapades. And look at me, I’m not ashamed,” he smiles, stifling a giggle at his own joke.
“If that’s true, Roman, you really should be. And don’t be facetious. That’s not something to laugh about.”
“No, you’re right, I’m sorry,” he concedes, the apology devoid of any sincerity at all. “So are you saving it for marriage, then? Gonna give Mr. Right your most precious gift?”
You freeze then. Roman’s getting warmer, burning hot. It’s not the truth, but it’s not…not…the truth. An inch away from uncovering your big secret, that you’re a virgin. Never had sex, not once. 
It must be written all over your face in big, bolded letters or something, because Roman’s face twists in realization. His eyes are sparkling, jaw dropped in an open, wry smile. “Holy fuck,” he scoffs. “You’re shitting me. Virgin?! You’re a virgin? Oh my god, gross. Ew,” he laughs, turning your cheek to force you to look at him. 
It makes you feel bad inside. Insecure. Your bottom lip quivers a little as tears well up in your eyes, that awful feeling of embarrassment taking over every one of your senses. Face hot, ears pounding, the walls closing in. “Roman,” you whisper, tilting your chin down to hide yourself.
“Hey - heyyy. Don’t fuckin’...don’t be like that,” he says, tilting your face back up. Roman laughs, then makes a sympathetic expression as he pulls you close, wrapping his strong arms around you in a tight hug. Some of your tears soak the collar of his shirt as he presses your face into his shoulder. “I’m very sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I took it too far, that’s on me. I’m sorry. Hey–” Roman nuzzles your hair, “I mean it. I’m sorry.” 
You don’t say anything. You’re too pissed to speak but even if you weren’t, you’re not sure that you could conjure up any sort of response to…whatever the fuck just happened.
“It’s not so terrible, being a virgin.” Roman offers, rubbing your back soothingly as he kisses the top of your head. “There’s worse things to be.” 
“Yeah? Like what?” you ask, voice muffled as you mumble into his shirt. 
“Like…fuckin’ dead, I guess.” Roman thinks for a second, “Or ugly. And you’re not that, so…”
“Thanks, Rome,” you reply flatly. 
“And guys like virgins,” he adds. “Like, do you know how much some creeps would pay to fuck virgin pussy?”
“Uhh…”
“Millions. They’d pay millions,” Roman says, taking note of how your ears perk up at the statement, the incredulous look you give him. “Yeah, now that’s interesting to you, isn’t it? Shit, I’d pay you for it. Let’s skip the middleman, huh?”
“What? No.” You pull away from Roman’s arms. 
“Yes. Why not?”
Why not? Just the littlest amount of pushback from Roman and you’re already questioning the lines you’ve drawn in the sand for yourself. For a moment, you contemplate the idea of having sex with Roman, and you’re tempted - his naked body on yours, pleasuring you in a way you’ve never felt at the hands of someone else before, his attention all on you. His perfect, soft lips on yours as he swallows your moans, loving you the way you deserve. But ultimately you decide no, it’s not happening. It can’t happen. Not like how he’s suggesting. He doesn’t have the capacity to handle something like this with any amount of respect or tact.
“I don’t know, Roman. I guess that I always envisioned my first time having sex being with someone that I love. Or trust, at the very least.” 
“And you don’t trust me?”
You scoff “Fuck, no.”
“Yeah, that’s smart,” Roman nods. “Okay, fine. I won’t pressure you. You save that special little gift of yours for someone who deserves it.” 
You nod as you look down at the floor, tracing the pattern in the carpet with your eyes, gasping when you feel Roman touch your bare knee. “Or…” he murmurs.
“Or?”
Roman’s had the idea of screwing you in his head for a while now, and by his own admission, is especially turned on at the prospect of being the first one to fuck you. It fills him with a primal sort of feeling, knowing that at least for a moment, you’d be his. Your first lover’s name you’d moan would be his, your first orgasm at the hands of another will belong to him only, forever. There’s something about taking your virginity that fills him with a sickening, all-consuming sort of need. He’ll do it, too. By any means necessary.    
“Just the tip,” he whispers, his warm hand sliding up your thigh to toy with the edge of your pajama shorts. He wriggles them even higher, not stopping even when you hold your breath and grab his wrist to keep him from traveling further. “Chill. I’m not doing anything,” Roman mumbles, sliding his hand out from under yours to take your hand and put it flat on the bed. He holds your thigh again and speaks slowly, quietly, “You just let me put the tip in and I’ll pay you the same. Whatever - whatever fuckin’ number you want, alright? Put however many zeroes at the end, and it’s yours…if you just let me put the tip in. Sounds easy enough, right?”
“Just the tip,” you repeat quietly, thinking…thinking that it sounds like bullshit, and yet, you’re kind of falling for it anyway. He makes you feel stupid, even when he’s not insulting you.
Roman speaks again before you can talk yourself out of it. “Just the tip,” he lies. “So long as I don’t - you know, fully penetrate you - technically, you’d still be a virgin by the end of our little thing.”
“You’re saying it wouldn’t count?” 
Roman nods his head. “Wouldn’t count at all. It’s…a loophole of sorts,” he says, tracing his fingertips up and down your thigh, inching closer and closer to where he wants to feel you the most. “Virginity stays intact. C’mon,” he urges.
You’re fighting yourself. Roman can see the temptation and the self-preservation fighting each other in your mind, and he can’t let the smarter, safer side of you win this. 
“You’ve got nothing to lose,” he adds. And he’d get to satisfy a curiosity, but that’s not something he needs to tell you. 
“I don’t know, Rome. It - something about it makes me nervous.”
“I know. But I’ll be gentle with you, alright? I’ll take it nice and fuckin’ slow, walk you through the whole thing. No surprises.” Roman shifts a little and reaches into his pocket for his wallet, then pulls out a stack of bills, all hundreds, and places them on your nightstand. “There. Call it a fuckin’...deposit or whatever, I don’t know. Now do we have a deal or not, virgin?”
You bite your lip as you think - or do something resembling thinking, rather. You can’t think clearly, not with Roman’s hands now on your waist. He doesn’t have to touch you anywhere private or sensitive - just his hands on your body is enough to make your brain fucking melt, you poor thing. Don’t even know how badly you need it, need him. Roman will make it all better. Fix you. 
“C’mon, baby,” he whispers, his hot breath tickling your ear. He presses a couple of kisses against the side of your neck, feeling your pulse beneath his tongue as he licks you there. You let out a broken moan in response, nodding urgently. Roman smiles against your skin in satisfaction. “Attagirl,” he murmurs, then pulls away from you. Your pupils are blown wide, lips parted. Perfect. 
He dims the lamps around the room and turns off the overhead lights, casting the room in a warm, orange glow before joining you on the bed again. “Let’s fuckin’ do this thing. You ready?”
“I don’t - I don’t -”
Roman calms you down before you spiral. “Shh, relax. Relax. We’re going slow, like I said,” he reminds you. “God, you’re so fuckin’...c’mere.” 
Roman puts both of his strong hands on your face, thumbs on your jaw, the rest of his fingers firmly pressing into your neck. He pulls you close and kisses you, and his lips feel even better than they look. You let out a little noise that Roman doesn’t acknowledge; he only continues to move his lips tenderly against yours, deepening the kiss when you begin to reciprocate. 
He’s an excellent kisser. The way he uses his tongue makes you feel dizzy and sets your whole body on fire, and you feel his hands everywhere. Your face, your neck, your waist, digging his fingers into you and squeezing you like he loves you. “Gimme these.” Roman takes your hands in his own and puts them on his own shoulders, his silent way of showing you how it all should be done as he inches closer to you. 
He’s warm, warmer than you imagined. Warm in a comforting way. He smells so…him. Slightly sweaty, but not in a bad way, with his cologne worn down to its base notes. He tastes good, but you couldn’t even begin to describe. You’d be content with just this tonight, really. 
Roman deepens the kiss and lays you down gently, caging you in with his body. You’re still feeling out of your depth, unsure of where or how or if you should even touch him, though Roman doesn’t seem to mind. Of course he doesn’t mind. He’s got only one thing on his brain, and that’s ruining you. Touch him however you like or don’t touch him, he doesn’t give a fuck. 
His fingers crawl beneath your shirt, climbing up your body until he’s squeezing gently at the flesh of your breasts. You gasp when he rubs his thumb in circles over your nipple, feeling it harden with his touch. “Rome-” you breathe, clutching his bicep. 
“It’s okay,” he tells you, repeating the action with your other nipple, causing you to writhe beneath him. “I gotta get you ready for it, sweetheart.”
Roman pushes your shirt up as high as it’ll go, and kisses your neck, dragging his tongue down your skin. He uses the muscle to tease one of your nipples, putting to use his lips and teeth as well. His hands travel down your body, fingers passing over the neat little bow at the front of your pajama bottoms as they slide down towards your center.
You gasp when you feel him touch you there, just over the fabric. Roman groans as he rubs his fingers, feeling how you’ve soaked yourself. “Yeah, you weren’t fuckin’ lying, were you? Made a goddamn mess down here,” he mumbles, pressing little kisses against your neck. 
“Lying about what?” you breathe.
Roman has to stifle his laugh so as not to embarrass you, but you are such a cliche, absolutely drenched from a bit of kissing. Too easy. “Shh, nothing,” he says. “Nothing. You’re fine.” Roman pulls your panties and shorts to the side, exposing your cunt to himself. “Has anyone ever touched you here before?”
You shake your head. “Mm-mm.”
Roman only nods as pulls your thighs apart, and your heart pounds hard. He traces your lips only momentarily before diving between your folds, feeling the pool of arousal he’s caused. 
“Fuck,” you moan, eyes squeezing shut as you arch into his touch. “R-Roman, Roman…”
“Ohh, man, you’re sensitive,” Roman laughs quietly, rubbing lazy circles over your clit. “Holy fuck. That feel good? Huh, virgin?”
“Yeah,” you whimper, squeezing his forearm and bicep with your hands as if to anchor yourself or something. You feel like you’re gonna break. Everything feels heightened, but sort of sharp and fuzzy at the same time. Your head spins, and you can’t keep track of your thoughts. 
You whine when Roman pushes his middle and ring fingers into your pussy, pumping them in and out slowly. “How does that feel?” he asks.
“Good, kinda - uh…kind - kind of hurts.”
“You gotta relax,” he tells you, “ It’s okay.”  
Roman shifts a little and smiles at you before curling his fingers, stroking that special, sensitive little place deep inside your cunt you’ve probably never found on your own before. By the way your eyes roll back into your head and how you squeeze your legs shut around his arm, Roman guesses he’s right. “Oh my - fuck, Rome, that - you–” Your voice comes out in broken, breathy moans and you don’t bother finishing your sentence. All you can do is bury your face into his neck and try not to shatter into a million pieces. 
Roman fingers you like that for a minute or two longer, listening to those wet noises your cunt makes for him, then slows down his movements before pulling away. “You’re ready for it,” he tells you.
“I am?”
“Absolutely.” 
Roman leans back and sits you up, then pulls off your shirt without saying so much as a single word. He does the same to your shorts and panties, tossing them into a crumpled pile on the carpet. The way you squirm and hide yourself makes Roman smile. “Don’t be shy. I need to be able to see what I’m working with, right?”
“Yeah, no. That makes sense.”
“Hold on.” Roman unbuttons his shirt and shrugs it off, pulling off his undershirt too. His bulge is sizable in his black slacks, and when he unbuckles his belt and pulls the rest of his clothes off, his hard cock slapping against his tummy, your eyes widen. His dick is massive. The tip reaches his belly button, and it’s curved beautifully, slightly to the right. Roman wraps his fingers around it and squeezes, knuckles whitening a little.
“Y-you’re fucking huge,” you stutter.
“I know, right? It’s Roman Roy’s best kept secret.” He smiles wide, pleased with himself as he winks at you. “Alright. Spread those legs and let’s fuckin’ party.” Roman reaches for your ankles and pulls them apart, eyebrows raising when you fight to keep them closed. 
“No! No, don’t.”
“...No?” Roman drops your ankles and sits back, eyeing you. “Scared?”
“Very.” 
He chuckles. “You’ve never even felt a cock before, have you?” Roman asks, stroking his cock slowly. You shake your head and he nods in understanding. “Wow, it really is all new to you. That’s my bad, sweetheart.” 
Roman lays down next to you again, this time flat on his back. He shifts a little and grabs your wrist, guiding your hand to his cock. “Get to know it a little. Just touch it, however you want,” he instructs. Roman waits for you to touch him, but you’re frozen. He raises an eyebrow, “It’s not gonna bite you.”
“I know, I just don’t know…don’t know what to do.”
Roman says nothing, only presses your fingertips against the large, blunt head of his cock. “Like this,” he says, dragging your fingers down his shaft. He wraps your fingers around his length, then lets you go. Your turn.
You slide your palm up and down his dick, just…taking it all in. His cock feels heavy in your hand which doesn’t surprise you, but you’re struck by his warmth, the heat radiating from him. You trace his veins, then squeeze him slightly in your fist, feeling him throb a little. 
Roman patiently lets you explore, despite it being an excruciating tease, groaning softly as he tilts his head back. “Now when you do this for real, with your Mr. Right or whoever,” Roman says, “Don’t just tease him like this. You’ll piss him off,” he warns.
“I will?”
“Oh yeah. No, you’re even pissing me off a little bit. Like, if this weren’t a teaching moment, I’d fuck you in two for this shit.” Roman words scare you a bit, and you stop touching him. “Relax, will you? It’s not gonna happen. You’re in good hands.” 
“Okay.”
“Let me show you what to do instead.” Roman takes your hand again, this time spitting in it. “You grab it like you mean it,” he says, wrapping your fingers tightly around his cock, tighter than you would have done yourself. “And–” Roman slides your palm up and down his length, helping you to maintain that firm pressure, “You go all the way up, all the way down. Like - fuck - yeah, like that. You’re a fuckin’ natural, virgin, look at you.”
Roman lets you work him on your own, simply enjoying the feel of your hand on his cock. He thinks it’s cute when you circle his tip with your fingers - it’s not something he taught you to do, but he doesn’t mind it. 
“Does this feel like, good?”
“Feels awesome. But,” Roman purrs, “You know what’d feel even better?”
“What?”
“You gotta be brave, sweetheart. Do you want to be brave for me?”
You’re not feeling very brave or adventurous but you nod a little anyway, and Roman jumps at the opportunity. He moves you down the bed, sitting you down between his thighs that are spread wide. “You’re gonna suck my dick,” he tells you, grabbing your face with one of his hands. “Don’t freak out, okay? You’re gonna be fine. Open your mouth.” 
Roman holds his thick cock between his thumb, middle, and forefingers. He taps the head against your bottom lip, encouraging you to open wider. When you open your mouth more, Roman lowers your head and fits himself between your lips, simply letting you get used to the feeling of him there. It takes a lot of patience on his part, to not fuck your mouth here and now. 
You’re not sure what to do, and Roman knows this. Tangling his fingers in your hair, he bounces your head just a little on his cock, your tongue sliding over his weeping slit. The taste of his precome surprises you - it’s a salty, warm, masculine sort of flavor that you don’t really mind. You’re pleased by how soft his skin feels, how he smells. Gaining confidence, you take him deeper into your mouth.
If Roman were a better man, he’d stop you - he’d warn you that you’re going to choke on his cock, that it’s gonna be too much too quickly. But that’s not Roman, not by a long shot. He inches you further down his cock with each bob of your head, grinning at the way you gurgle and sputter a little. “Little more,” he says. “Keep going.”
Cock in mouth, drool dripping down your chin, you look at Roman, searching for some sort of approval or encouragement. “You got it. And use your tongue, sweetheart. You can make a mess on me. You should, actually.”
You move your tongue in inconsistent patterns, swirling it around his length as Roman moves your head. “Breathe through your nose,” he instructs. “You’re doing so well.”
 He lets out soft little groans and his eyes shut for a moment, lips parted. Saliva is running down his cock and your jaw is beginning to ache from his girth, but Roman ignores your noises of discomfort and the tears in your eyes. He fucks himself deeply into your mouth, pushing you far past the point he should. Then suddenly, you gag and cough harshly, pulling yourself off of him. “Oh, fuck. Fuck,” you spit.
Roman rubs your back and stretches across the bed, reaching for your glass of water. “You’re good, you’re alright,” he says, pressing the glass against your lips. “Have some water. You’re not supposed to take me all at once, virgin. That’s how you choke,” he taunts.  
After finishing the water, Roman takes your glass and sets it back on the nightstand. “Alright. Back to you, sweetheart. Lie back and spread your legs for me.” 
You tremble a little as you lie down, parting your legs only a little. You feel the bed shift with Roman’s moving weight and close your eyes, nervously anticipating the inevitable. 
Roman pushes your knees toward your chest and lowers himself, smirking at how tense you look with your short breaths, your fingers fidgeting with the comforter. He could warn you of what’s to come with a couple of kisses pressed against your inner thighs, but it’ll be more fun to surprise you. 
He licks your sex from bottom to top with a flat tongue, dragging it slowly through your folds. “Roman,” you gasp, hands darting for his head. You tangle your fingers in the sleek strands of his hair, tugging on them tightly. “You - you’re–”
“Shh,” he interrupts. His stubble scratches your inner thighs as he teases you, tongue circling your clit. Roman buries himself in that softest and most private place on your body, rubbing the tip of his perfect nose against your clit as he tastes you. He circles your entrance a couple of times before dipping inside, tasting your arousal right from the hole it trickles from. 
You’re babbling incoherently, whimpering his name as he then drags his tongue up and down your folds. He circles your clit once, then twice, then pulls the hood back and laves over the sensitive bud repeatedly, forcing you to lie still with a strong hand holding you down. He savors you like this, how you shudder and shake, muscles tensing as you fight to close your legs, not used to a feeling so intense. Roman fucks you with his tongue, guiding you through the first orgasm you’ve ever shared with another as you gush into his mouth, clit throbbing under his tongue. 
When Roman pulls away, you feel like you could cry. You bite your bottom lip to keep it from wobbling and try to will away that pressure building behind your eyes, but it’s hard. You wonder if Roman notices. 
“Now you’re really fuckin’ ready,” he tells you. 
“Okay,” you breathe, voice shaking. “Just the tip?”
“Mhm. Just the tip,” Roman confirms. He hovers over you and reaches between your legs to gather your arousal on his fingertips, then coats his cock in your slick. When he presses the thick head of his dick against your pussy, your heart races. You can’t conjure the words to tell him what you need, and urgently take his free hand in yours. 
“You wanna hold my hand?” Roman smirks and laces his fingers between yours, pinning your hand against the bed. “We can hold hands, sweetheart.” And then, in one swift, brutal motion, Roman fully buries his cock fully inside you. 
It sends you reeling. He’s so huge, it feels like he’s splitting you in two. You feel betrayed and try to squirm away, but Roman forces you to stay down with a hand on your ribcage. Forces you to take it, to feel it all. “Shhh, shh. You’re - hey - you’re fine.” Roman catches the free hand you use to try and shove him backwards and pins it to the bed with the other. 
“Y-you–” you sob, unable to form a sentence. 
“Ohhh, I know, I know, I know,” Roman coos mockingly. “I played a dirty trick on you, huh? Wasn’t very nice of me, was it?”
You look at Roman and cry, tears falling down your temples and into your hair. With his hand still clutching yours, he uses your own knuckles to wipe some tears away. “Poor thing. You’ll get used to it.” 
“But you said–”
“I know what I said,” Roman interrupts. “It’s never just the tip, baby, you know that. Or–” Roman pauses, thrusting into you deeply, “Maybe you really don’t know that. But this is real life, sweetheart. It’s a cruel fuckin’ world out there.” 
Roman sets a pace then, drawing in and out of you. Not particularly harshly or quickly, because the penetration alone hurts enough. He rocks his hips, pulling out of you and filling you up all the way with every stroke. 
“Roman, stop–”
“No. Fucking take it.”   
Roman ignores your sounds of discomfort, going so far as to cover your mouth instead. Your sobs are muffled under his palm, skin dampening with tears and saliva. Roman builds the tempo, lips curled into that awful, lopsided smile. “Listen to yourself. You’re fuckin’ soaked, do you hear that?” he taunts through a strained breath. 
The pain is utterly blinding, until it isn’t. You almost resent the way the hurt is replaced with pleasure now, because the betrayal is still there. Betrayal by Roman, and now by your own body. This…this isn’t what you were promised. You trusted Roman and he exploited that, but you’re fucking enjoying it.
Roman’s palm tastes salty over your mouth. When he removes it, a moan slips past your lips, and Roman grins. “Yeah, there it is. Not so terrible, huh, baby?”
You free your hands from his grip and wrap your arms around his shoulders, which is the only thing that feels right. You don’t entirely know why, you just know that you need him close. Roman pulls back a little to watch you, his greenish, hazel eyes darkened with something primal as he pulls out of you and pushes into you, again and again and again. You bury your face in his neck as he fucks you, and one of his hands slide up your torso to grope your breast and tease your nipple.
“Your pussy feels so fuckin’ good,” Roman grunts, rutting his hips into you. He’s in love with all of this, in truth. Addicted. How soft your body is for him, for his hands to squeeze and his fingers to dig into. He could fucking eat you. 
He fits his hand between your bodies, the heel of his palm pressing into your pubic bone. He rubs your clit in circles, thrusting into you harder, faster, deeper. “Look at me. Right here” he pants, using his free hand to hold your face. “Come on my cock. Come for me, sweetheart.”
He pulls your orgasm from you effortlessly. Roman’s name spills from your lips in choking sobs as you come on his cock, feeling impossibly full as your cunt pulses around him. It’s the heaviest, most overwhelming feeling, washing over you in waves, muscles spasming and twitching. Roman’s thrusts turn frenzied and frantic, and there it is - he’s coming too. Milking himself inside you, spurting thick, hot ropes of his come, and you take all of it. 
Roman pulls out of you then, and uses two fingers to push his escaped spend back inside your poor, raw, throbbing cunt. This time, you do cry. “Ohh, come here,” Roman says softly. He scoops you up into his arms and holds you tightly, stroking your hair. “You okay?”
“No,” you sniffle. 
“No?” Roman repeats, momentarily moving you to lean over the bed. He reaches for his pants and grabs his phone out of the pocket, then takes his place next to you again, pulling you into his side tightly. “You’ll get over it. Watch,” he murmurs, unlocking his phone and opening Venmo. He pulls up your profile and shows you the screen, the little blue cursor blinking. You type in a number, then give the phone back to Roman, who adds an extra zero before tapping Pay.
If you enjoyed, please lmk ♡ i love when you reblog and send me asks. It means the world to me ♡
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pretty-sparkle-bomb · 1 day ago
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In which, a girl tries to flirt with one of the MHA boys. Part 1
Characters included: Denki Kaminari, Katsuki Bakugo, Eijiro Kirishima
Side Note: The reader is a badass chick 🤤
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Katsuki Bakugo
Katsuki Bakugo wasn’t the sweet romantic type to anyone but you. He was the kind of guy who, in public, showed love in his own way—by pulling you into his side possessively, scowling at anyone who looked at you wrong, and grumbling curse-laced insults that somehow still made your heart flutter. In private? Yeah, I’ll leave that to your imagination.
He didn’t need anyone else. He had you. And that was enough.
Unfortunately, not everyone seemed to get the memo.
Like the new girl.
She had transferred into U.A. a few weeks ago, and from the moment she laid eyes on your man, she had been on a mission. At first, it was subtle. Asking him unnecessary questions in class. Laughing a little too hard at his brash remarks. Finding excuses to sit near him during lunch.
But then it got bolder.
She started showing up outside the gym when he was training. Bringing him extra snacks. “Accidentally” tripping in front of him so he’d catch her. Touching his arm and marveling at his muscles.
You could tell it annoyed him. Bakugo wasn’t exactly the patient type, and the way his eye twitched whenever she got too close was proof enough.
Yet, she kept pushing.
One day, she took it too far.
You and the Bakusquad were hanging out in the common room when she waltzed in, making a beeline for your boyfriend.
“Bakugo~” she sang, plopping down beside him, far too close for comfort.
You leaned against the couch, watching with mild amusement as he immediately tensed.
“The hell do you want?” he muttered, clearly uninterested.
She giggled, completely ignoring his irritation. “I made something for you!” She held out a scarf—black and orange, his colors. “I knitted it myself! I noticed you don’t wear scarves, so I figured I could give you one of mine. Now every time you wear it, you’ll think of me!”
You snorted. Oh, this girl was bold.
Bakugo just stared at the scarf like it was an insult to his entire existence. “The fuck? I don’t wear scarves.”
“Oh, don’t be like that!” She pouted. “Just try it on for me—”
Bakugo's eye twitched. "I ain't wearin’ that."
Her smile faltered for a split second, but she pushed on, lifting the scarf toward him. "Just try it on! I promise it’ll look great—"
Before she could finish her sentence, you snatched the scarf right out of her hands.
"Wow," you hummed, examining it. "Soft, warm… a nice shade of orange." You nodded thoughtfully. "You know, I think I know the perfect use for it."
She rolled her eyes at you, her happy-go-lucky personality disappearing instantly. “Really?”
With a sickly sweet smile, you turned on your heel, walked straight to the common room’s fireplace, and—without a moment’s hesitation—tossed the scarf in.
The flames swallowed it instantly.
A beat of silence.
Then—
"WHAT THE HELL?!" she shrieked, eyes wide with horror.
You dusted off your hands. "Oh, sorry. Did you actually think he was gonna wear that?" You gave her a pitying look. "It was just taking up space."
Katsuki, who had been sitting in stunned silence, suddenly let out a loud, barking laugh. "Damn, babe."
Kirishima was struggling to hold back his own laughter. Kaminari? Nearly choking on his drink. Even Mina was giggling into her hands.
The girl looked between you and the burning scarf; face twisted in disbelief. “Y-You—”
"You seriously thought he’d wear something you made?" you cut her off, tilting your head. "I mean, I get it. You tried. A for effort and all that." You shrugged. "But he’s already got everything he needs."
You turned back to your carmine-eyed boyfriend, who was still smirking, and leaned down to press a slow, deliberate kiss to his cheek.
"Right, Kats?"
His arm immediately wrapped around your waist, pulling you onto his lap. He rested his chin on your shoulder, crimson eyes locked onto the girl as he smirked.
"Damn right."
The girl stood there, fuming, hands clenched into fists before she finally let out a frustrated huff and stormed out.
He chuckled against your neck. "Damn, that was brutal."
You grinned. "She had it coming."
He squeezed your waist, his voice low and amused. "Shit like that makes me love you even more, y'know that?"
Outcome: Scarf? Incinerated. Girl? Humbled. Relationship? Stronger than steel.
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Denki Kaminari
Denki Kaminari had always been a flirt. From the start, he was a natural charmer, but when he met you, something changed. You grounded him. You made him feel loved and appreciated. You weren’t just another fling—you were the one who tamed him.
And when you two started dating, his flirtatious ways disappeared—at least, with anyone but you. Still, his naturally friendly personality sometimes sent the wrong signals, especially to girls who didn’t know any better.
Take a recent example. A new girl had just transferred to U.A. on recommendation. She was pretty, sociable, and quickly made friends with everyone—including you. But it was obvious she had a thing for Denki. She was always flirting with him, running her fingers through his hair, applying lip gloss the moment he walked in, dousing herself in sickly-sweet vanilla perfume so he’d notice whenever she passed by.
But you? You weren’t insecure. If anything, you found her antics hilarious. She actually thought she had a chance. Maybe she missed the lipstick stains on his cheeks and neck. Maybe she overlooked the way he whistled whenever you walked by, how he absentmindedly played with your hair while you talked to Mina, how he cornered you during lunch, hugged you from behind, or kissed the top of your head. Maybe she hadn’t noticed the matching promise rings, the shared bentos, or the inside jokes.
Oh, who were you kidding?
She knew.
She knew, and she was still trying.
One morning, while you and Momo giggled over your new matching nails, you caught sight of her in your peripheral vision. She was strutting over to Denki again. But something was different this time.
There, dyed into her perfectly shiny black hair, was a bright yellow lightning bolt.
And that was it.
You watched as she twirled in front of him, eyes sparkling. “Do you notice anything different?” she asked, her voice sickly sweet.
Denki looked uncomfortable. This girl was a whole new level of delusional.
“Uh, Amai… I have a girlfriend,” he stated flatly.
Her smile disappeared for a second before she stepped closer, recovering quickly. “Well, I don’t see her. Besides, she doesn’t have to know.” She tugged at his tie, pulling him from his standing position so that their faces were centimeters away, but he immediately placed a hand on her wrist, pushing her away. You took off your shoes and quietly strode closer to them.
By now, everyone in the room had gone silent, eyes locked on the three of you, waiting to see what would happen.
“Turn around,” you said, voice flat yet filled with annoyance.
Before she could react, you grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking her head back. Her body arched, and she locked eyes with you in shock.
“Now you see her.”
In one swift motion, you pulled her to the ground and straddled her, delivering a solid punch to her nose. Something cracked. You hoped it was her nose—but then you saw something else.
Your nails.
Your beautiful, fresh, matching nails.
Broken.
“You bitch! You broke my nail!” you gasped in outrage.
Tears welled in her eyes as she stammered something, but you weren’t interested. Instead, you landed another punch.
It took both Denki and Sero to pry you off her—but not before you got in a good kick to her stomach.
Let’s just say one of you ended up in Recovery Girl’s office, and the other got detention for a week.
Mr. Aizawa, being the legend that he was, let you use your phone during detention. What an amazing teacher.
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Eijiro Kirishima
You were used to people liking Eijiro.
It was impossible not to like him—he was strong, dependable, kind, and had the kind of energy that made everyone feel included. He wasn’t just a hero in training, he was a damn good person.
But Kanna Fukuda? She wasn’t just crushing on him.
She was competing with you.
Kanna was a Support Course genius—a prodigy when it came to crafting hero gear. And for whatever reason, she had convinced herself that you were just a phase, a distraction, something Eijiro would eventually “grow out of.”
She thought that if she could prove she was more useful to him—more essential to his future—he’d eventually choose her.
Too bad for her, Eijiro wasn’t choosing anyone but you.
At first, you ignored her attempts.
The custom gear. The constant requests to work with only Eijiro. The way she always “just happened” to be around whenever he finished training, ready with some new, “perfectly designed” item that would “enhance his performance.”
She was always hovering. But Eijiro never gave her any attention.
He was polite, sure, but he never went out of his way to talk to her. He never lingered when she spoke. Half the time, he didn’t even realize she was there because his attention was always on you.
And that? That drove her crazy.
One afternoon, in the middle of the U.A. common area, she made her biggest move yet. Eijiro had just finished an intense sparring session, sweat still dripping from his forehead as he leaned back against the couch beside you, resting his hand on your thigh.
And then, out of nowhere, Kanna appeared. How the hell did she get access to the 1A building?
She placed something onto the table in front of him—a brand-new pair of hero gloves.
“I made these for you,” she announced, smiling like she’d already won. “They’re impact-resistant, reinforced with carbon fiber, and custom-fitted to your exact hand measurements.”
Your eyes narrowed. Hand measurements? He sure as hell never gave her those. Eijiro blinked at the gloves, looking more confused than impressed. “Uh… thanks, but I already got a pair.”
“These are better.” She took a step closer, lowering her voice. “You should let me take care of you—I mean your gear, Kirishima. I mean, it’s kinda my specialty, right? I can make sure everything you use is perfectly tailored for you.”
And then, she had the audacity to glance at you—like she was proving a point, like she was winning.
You sat up straighter, a slow smirk creeping onto your lips. “Ohhh, impact-resistant, huh?” You grabbed the gloves off the table, turning them over in your hands. “That’s so impressive, Kanna. Really.”
Her chest puffed up. “I know, right?”
And then, before she could say another word, you used your quirk. A white light emitted and them you ripped the hideous pair of gloves in half.
The room went silent.
Kanna’s smug expression shattered. “YOU—WHAT THE HELL?!”
You tilted your head, examining the torn gloves. “Huh. I thought they were impact-resistant.”
“You—” Her hands shook as she pointed at you. “D-Do you know how long that took me to—”
“They weren’t gonna last,” you interrupted, tossing the ruined gloves back onto the table. “They were never gonna be strong enough for him.” You leaned forward, resting your chin in your palm. “You don’t get it, do you?”
Her lips pressed into a tight line.
You smiled. “You can make all the fancy gear you want, but he doesn’t need it.” You glanced at Eijiro, who was watching you with awe and admiration in his eyes. “He’s already strong enough on his own. And he sure as hell doesn’t need you.”
Kanna looked at Eijiro. Waiting. Hoping. Begging for him to defend her.
But all he did was sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh… yeah. Listen, Kanna, I gotta agree with her on this one.” He gave her an apologetic smile. “I really appreciate the effort, but… I already have everything I need.”
And then, right in front of everyone, he turned to you—grinned—and kissed you.
It wasn’t just some quick peck.
It was slow, deliberate, his hand cupping your cheek, thumb brushing your skin—a clear, undeniable claim.
Kanna’s face flushed deep red.
She didn’t say another word.
She just grabbed the ruined gloves, turned, and walked out.
The moment she was gone, chaos erupted.
“OH MY GOD, YOU JUST DESTROYED HER!” Mina shrieked.
“THAT WAS SO FREAKIN’ HOT,” Kaminari howled.
Bakugo smirked, arms crossed. “About damn time. I was gonna blow her ass to America if she continued.”
Eijiro just chuckled, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into his lap. “Damn, babe,” he murmured, pressing another kiss against your temple. “That was seriously the most badass thing I’ve ever seen.”
You grinned, curling your fingers into his red hair. “Had to put her in her place, didn’t I?”
He laughed, pressing his forehead against yours. “Heck yeah, you did.”
And if anyone still thought they had a chance with your man?
They sure as hell didn’t now.
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I came home from work, exhausted but happy with what I had accomplished. I locked the door and went towards the kitchen to start fixing myself a 'welcome home' drink and see what I had available to prepare supper.
However, I found myself going to my bedroom instead. I was puzzled for a moment, but as I started to undress, I had a sense that a 'welcome home' drink would be even better if I changed out of my work clothes. I figured that loose fitting pants and a big shirt would be just perfect!
However, as my mind idled to a million and one thoughts, I found myself putting on one of my prettiest sets of lingerie that was completed with a matching pair of high heels. Again, I was more than a little puzzled but as I walked back down stairs, I couldn't deny that I felt incredibly comfortable and in the end, that was my goal so I didn't bother too much about it.
After all, dressing up made me feel extra sexy and a lot more beautiful, which was always a good stroke on my ego. The though even pushed me to go into the bathroom so I could touch up my makeup! No sense in only dressing sexy, right? Might as well go all in.
Having made myself as beautiful as I could, I felt this wave of contentment wash over me as I made my way back towards the kitchen. I was beautiful... I was sexy... I was comfortable in my own home after a long day. Everything felt perfect and I remembered that all that was left was my stiff drink.
However, instead of going to the kitchen, my feet brought me to the living room. I felt momentarily lost, like I had forgotten something important because I couldn't figure out why I had entered the living room without my drink. After all, sitting comfortably in my lazy chair WAS what I wanted to do, but I needed my drink to relax. Didn't I?
I grabbed the remote control, mostly out of habit I think, and turned on my television. As I did, I suddenly remembered why I had entered the living room. It was a bit out of order, but turning on the relaxing musing stream always took a while to load thanks to my slow internet network so it made sense to load it up while I went to fix my drink.
I went through the motions of clicking the correct series of icons and apps and put down the remote, intending to finally get my drink.
However, instead of walking to the hallway, my feet betrayed me yet again and brought me to the lazy chair. I couldn't help but frown as I sat down, completely at a lost as to why I hadn't gone to the kitchen.
I stayed that way, sitting comfortably perplexed as I wondered why I couldn't find the will to stand up again.
That is... Until the screen and speakers finally came alive.
I expect the usual classical music to erupt from my sound system, but instead, echoing tones filled my living room as my television came alive with soft captivating colors. Instantly, I felt myself get drawn to look at the familiar screen. The more the sounds echoed, the more it made me want to watch and the more I watched the more my skull seemed to tingle with delight as wave after wave of deep relaxation washed over my thoughts.
And as they did, they revealed foggy memories I remembered to forget.
Memories of being hypnotized...
Memories of surrender and pleasure...
Memories of service and obedience...
Memories of the man that also lived with me...
Memories of watching this screen every evening after work...
Memories of the girl I become once the screen is done with me...
They all come in gentle waves that excite me more and more as I sink deeper and deeper into trance.
Soon, I would re-awaken... Ready to enjoy bliss...
Ready to obey...
However, that would only come after my mind has been thoroughly put to sleep by the captivating colors and inviting tones.
So for now, as I wished to do from the moment I left work, all I need to do is relax and let my mind drift away...
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elryuse · 2 days ago
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Hierarchy
Pt 5 : Complicated
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For My Other Hierarchy Story, Please Kindly Check Over Here. Hope You Liked It.
"You kissed him?!" Ryujin’s voice cut through the chaos, sharp and accusing. Her eyes were wide, her lips trembling as she stared at So-hyun, who stood with an unreadable smirk plastered across her face. The room was silent now, save for the faint hum of music in the background. Everyone was frozen, their phones still raised, capturing every second of this chaotic moment.
I couldn’t move. My chest tightened as I looked from Ryujin to Wonyoung, who stood a few feet away, her arms crossed, her expression a mix of shock and something darker—something like hurt. My head spun, my thoughts a jumbled mess. What just happened? I glanced at So-hyun, who met my gaze with a glint in her eyes that sent chills down my spine.
"Relax, Ryujin," So-hyun drawled, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "It was just a kiss. A little… experiment." She shrugged, as if it were nothing, but the way her eyes lingered on me told a different story. It was as if she was assessing me, trying to figure out how I fit into whatever game she was playing.
Ryujin stepped forward, her fists clenched. "You don’t just kiss someone like that! Especially not him! What are you even—"
"Oh, please," So-hyun interrupted, rolling her eyes. "Don’t act like you own him, Ryujin. He’s not your property." She turned to me, her smirk widening. "Isn’t that right, Y/n?"
I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out. My throat felt dry, my mind racing. This wasn’t supposed to happen. None of this was supposed to happen. I had come here thinking it would be just another night, another chance to blend into the background. But now, I was the center of attention, caught in a web I didn’t understand.
And then there was Wonyoung. Her gaze burned into me, filled with questions I couldn’t answer. Why did I kiss her? Why did I let myself get swept up in the moment? I wanted to explain, to tell her it was a mistake, but the weight of everyone’s stares held me back.
The silence stretched, thick and suffocating, until So-hyun broke it with a laugh—soft, almost musical, but laced with something sinister. "Well, this has been fun," she said, clapping her hands together. "But I think it’s time we moved on. Come on, everyone, let’s dance!"
She grabbed my arm, her grip surprisingly strong, and pulled me toward the center of the room. The crowd parted around us, whispering behind their hands, their eyes following our every move. So-hyun leaned in close, her breath warm against my ear. "You’re mine now," she whispered, her voice low and commanding. "Whether you like it or not."
Earlier that evening, everything had seemed so simple. I had arrived at So-hyun’s mansion feeling out of place, my suit wrinkled, my nerves on edge. The limousine Ryujin had arranged for me felt like overkill, and the grandeur of So-hyun’s home only made me feel more out of my depth. But I had promised Ryujin I would come, and I didn’t want to let her down.
Ryujin greeted me at the door, her smile bright and infectious. "You made it!" she exclaimed, pulling me into a quick hug. "Come on, let’s get you a drink. You look like you need one."
I laughed nervously, allowing her to lead me through the crowded mansion. The party was already in full swing, the air thick with the scent of expensive perfumes and champagne. Everywhere I looked, people were laughing, dancing, and flirting. It was overwhelming, but also exhilarating.
As Ryujin handed me a glass of something bubbly, I noticed Wonyoung standing by the piano. She looked stunning, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders, her dress shimmering under the soft light. I hadn’t seen her since the day I played the piano at her family’s home, and the memory brought a strange flutter to my chest.
Wonyoung caught my eye and smiled faintly before turning away. I wondered what she was thinking, whether she remembered that day as vividly as I did. But before I could approach her, Ryujin looped her arm through mine and dragged me toward the dance floor.
The night blurred after that. Shots of liquor, laughter, and the dizzying rush of being surrounded by people who seemed to actually want me around. For the first time since starting at Jooshin High, I felt like I belonged. But that feeling shattered the moment I kissed Wonyoung.
Now, as So-hyun led me deeper into the crowd, I felt like a puppet on strings, helpless to resist. She stopped suddenly, turning to face me. Her eyes were intense, searching, as if she was trying to see straight through me.
"Do you know why I kissed you?" she asked, her voice barely audible over the music.
I shook my head, too stunned to speak.
"Because you’re interesting," she said, her lips curling into a sly smile. "You’re not like the others. You’re not afraid to take risks. And that makes you dangerous."
"Dangerous?" I repeated, my voice hoarse.
So-hyun nodded, her smile fading. "People like you disrupt the balance. And at Jooshin High, balance is everything."
Before I could respond, she kissed me again—harder this time, more possessive. The room erupted into cheers and whistles, but all I could focus on was the cold steeliness in So-hyun’s eyes. This wasn’t about attraction or affection. This was about control.
When she finally pulled away, I felt like the ground had been ripped out from under me. So-hyun leaned in close, her lips brushing against my ear. "Welcome to the game, Y/n," she whispered. "Let’s see how long you can survive."
She walked away, leaving me standing alone in the middle of the crowd. My heart pounded in my chest, my mind racing. What have I gotten myself into?
"Y/n," a voice called from behind me. I turned to see Wonyoung standing there, her arms crossed, her expression unreadable. "We need to talk. Now."
Wonyoung’s grip on my wrist was like a vice as she dragged me through the labyrinth of So-hyun’s mansion. The air grew colder the further we went, the noise of the party fading into an eerie silence. My head was still spinning from the alcohol, but the sharpness in her voice cut through the haze.
“What the fuck are you planning here?” she hissed, slamming the door shut behind us. The room was dimly lit, its walls lined with shelves full of books and trinkets that looked like they belonged in a museum rather than a teenager’s home. Wonyoung leaned against the door, her arms crossed, her glare piercing through me like daggers.
I stumbled backward, holding up my hands defensively. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about! I’m drunk, Wonyoung. I didn’t—I didn’t mean to—”
“Cut the crap,” she snapped, stepping closer. Her voice was low, dangerous. “You kissed me. In front of everyone. And then So-hyun pulls this stunt? Do you have any idea what kind of mess you’ve just thrown yourself into?”
My throat tightened. She wasn’t wrong. I had no clue what was happening. One moment, I was trying to survive the chaos of the party, and the next, I was caught in some twisted power play between two of the most influential girls at Jooshin High.
“I swear, I didn’t plan any of this,” I stammered, my voice cracking under the weight of her stare. “So-hyun… she just… kissed me out of nowhere. I didn’t even—”
“And you think that makes it better?” Wonyoung interrupted, her tone dripping with sarcasm. She closed the distance between us, her face mere inches from mine. Her breath smelled faintly of mint and something sharper, almost metallic. “Do you have any idea what So-hyun is capable of? What I’m capable of?”
I flinched. Her words carried a threat I couldn’t fully comprehend, but it sent a chill down my spine nonetheless. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
Before I could finish, the door burst open, and So-hyun strode in like a storm. Her presence was commanding, her every movement calculated. She didn’t even glance at Wonyoung; her focus was entirely on me.
“Enough of this,” So-hyun said coolly, her voice slicing through the tension like a knife. She grabbed my arm, her nails digging into my skin just enough to make me wince. “Y/n, come with me.”
Wonyoung stepped forward, blocking our path. “Where do you think you’re taking him?”
So-hyun smirked, a flicker of amusement dancing in her eyes. “That’s none of your concern, darling. He’s mine now.”
The way she said it—so casually, so possessively—made my stomach twist. But before I could protest, So-hyun was already pulling me out of the room, leaving Wonyoung standing there, her fists clenched, her expression a mix of fury and something else I couldn’t quite place.
The hallway felt endless as So-hyun dragged me toward the garage. My mind raced, trying to make sense of what was happening, but every thought felt sluggish, drowned out by the alcohol and the adrenaline coursing through my veins. When we reached the garage, she shoved me toward one of her supercars—a sleek, black monstrosity that screamed wealth and power.
“Get in,” she ordered, sliding into the driver’s seat. Her tone left no room for argument.
I hesitated, glancing back toward the mansion. Ryujin stood at the entrance, her eyes wide with confusion. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but no words came out. When our eyes met, I saw a flicker of hurt, maybe even betrayal, before she quickly turned away.
“I said get in,” So-hyun repeated, her voice sharper this time. She rolled down the window, her icy gaze daring me to defy her.
Swallowing hard, I opened the car door and slid into the passenger seat. The leather was cold against my skin, the scent of luxury and something vaguely chemical filling my nostrils. So-hyun started the engine, the roar of it drowning out any chance of escape.
As we sped away from the mansion, the streetlights blurred into streaks of gold. My heart pounded in my chest, my thoughts a jumbled mess. I wanted to ask where we were going, what she wanted from me, but the words wouldn’t come. So-hyun drove with a quiet intensity, her hands gripping the steering wheel like it was the only thing keeping her grounded.
After what felt like an eternity, she spoke again, her voice soft but laced with venom. “Do you know why I brought you here tonight, Y/n?”
I shook my head, not trusting myself to speak.
“Because you’re different,” she said, her lips curling into a sly smile. “You’re not like them. You don’t play their games. You don’t follow their rules. And that… that makes you dangerous.”
Her words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. I didn’t feel dangerous. I felt lost, out of my depth, like a pawn being moved across a chessboard by players far more skilled than I could ever hope to be.
“But here’s the thing,” she continued, her voice dropping to a whisper. “In this world, danger is power. And power… well, that’s all anyone really cares about, isn’t it?”
She pulled over in front of an empty park, the trees casting long shadows in the moonlight. Turning to face me, she placed a hand on my cheek, her touch surprisingly gentle. “You have potential, Y/n. Don’t waste it.”
I swallowed hard, my throat dry. “What do you want from me?”
Her smile widened, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Everything.”
The drive to the penthouse was silent, save for the low hum of So-hyun’s luxury car. The city lights blurred past the tinted windows, casting fleeting shadows across her sharp features. She sat perfectly poised, hands resting lightly on the steering wheel, her expression unreadable. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being pulled into something far beyond my control. Every time I tried to speak, the words caught in my throat. What could I even say? Her presence alone was enough to render me speechless.
When we arrived, the penthouse loomed above us like a monument to her family’s wealth and influence. A private elevator whisked us up to the top floor, and the doors slid open to reveal a space that felt more like a throne room than a home. The walls were lined with abstract art—dark, twisted pieces that seemed to pulse with an unsettling energy. The floor-to-ceiling windows offered a panoramic view of the city, but the beauty of it was overshadowed by the heavy tension hanging in the air.
So-hyun strode ahead of me, her heels clicking against the polished marble floors. She didn’t look back, but her voice carried through the vast space. “Make yourself comfortable, Y/n. We have a lot to discuss.”
I hesitated, unsure where to sit or even if I should. The enormity of the room made me feel small, insignificant. Finally, I perched on the edge of a sleek leather couch, my hands clasped tightly in my lap. So-hyun disappeared into another room, leaving me alone with my racing thoughts.
She returned moments later, holding two glasses of deep red wine. She handed one to me, her fingers brushing mine deliberately as she did. I took the glass, though my hand trembled slightly. She sat down beside me, closer than necessary, her thigh pressing against mine. The warmth of her body was disorienting, and I fought the urge to move away.
“You’re full of surprises, Y/n,” she said, taking a slow sip of her wine. Her lips glistened faintly when she pulled the glass away. “First Wonyoung, then Ryujin, and now… me. Tell me, do you always find yourself at the center of such chaos?”
I shook my head, unsure how to respond. “I-I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. It just… did.”
Her laughter was soft, almost musical, but there was an edge to it that sent a shiver down my spine. “Sometimes, darling, life has a way of pushing us into places we never expected. But what matters is how we handle it. And you… you interest me.”
I looked at her, my confusion evident. “Why? I’m just a scholarship student. I don’t belong here.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly, and she leaned in closer, her breath warm against my ear. “That’s exactly why you’re interesting. You’re different. Unpolished. Raw. And in a world filled with people who think they know everything, that makes you dangerous.”
My heart pounded in my chest as her words sunk in. Dangerous? Me? The idea was laughable, but the intensity in her gaze told me she wasn’t joking. She set her glass down on the table, then reached out to trace a finger along the side of my face. Her touch was feather-light, but it sent jolts of electricity through me.
“Tell me, Y/n,” she murmured, her voice dripping with a quiet authority. “Do you enjoy games?”
I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry. “It depends on the game.”
A slow, predatory smile spread across her lips. “Good answer. Let’s see how well you play.”
Before I could react, she stood and walked over to a sleek black piano positioned near the window. She ran her fingers lightly over the keys, the notes soft and haunting. “Come here,” she commanded, not bothering to turn around.
I obeyed without thinking, drawn to her like a moth to a flame. When I reached her side, she gestured for me to sit on the bench beside her. Her proximity was overwhelming, her scent—something floral and intoxicating—filling my senses.
“Play something for me,” she said, her tone daring me to refuse.
“I-I’m not very good,” I stammered, my nerves betraying me.
“Don’t lie to me,” she said sharply, her eyes locking onto mine. “I saw you play at Wonyoung’s house. You’re better than you let on. Now… play.”
My hands hovered over the keys, trembling slightly. I finally settled on a piece I knew by heart, letting the music flow through me. As I played, So-hyun watched me intently, her gaze never wavering. When I finished, she didn’t clap or praise me. Instead, she placed her hand over mine, stopping the final note from ringing out.
“Beautiful,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “But beauty isn’t enough. You need to learn how to use it.”
I frowned, unsure what she meant. “Use it?”
She leaned in closer, her lips brushing against my ear as she spoke. “Power isn’t about what you have, Y/n. It’s about how you wield it. And I think it’s time you learned how.”
Her hand slid up my arm, sending a shiver through me. My mind screamed at me to pull away, to run, but my body refused to obey. There was something magnetic about her, something that kept me rooted in place.
“W-what are you saying?” I managed to ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
She smiled, her lips curling into a smirk. “I’m saying that I can teach you things no one else can. But first… you have to prove you’re willing to play the game.”
Before I could respond, she gripped my chin firmly, forcing me to look into her eyes. They burned with an intensity that was both terrifying and thrilling. “Kiss me,” she ordered.
My breath hitched. “What?”
“Kiss me,” she repeated, her voice low and commanding. “Unless you’re too scared.”
The challenge in her tone ignited something inside me—a mix of defiance and desire. Without thinking, I closed the distance between us, pressing my lips to hers. The kiss was electric, fueled by a raw, untamed energy. Her hands tangled in my hair, pulling me closer until there was no space left between us.
When we finally broke apart, both of us were breathing heavily. So-hyun’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction, as though she had just won a small victory. “Good,” she purred. “But don’t think for a second that this means you’ve earned my trust. This is just the beginning, Y/n. And if you want to survive in my world, you’ll need to learn how to play by my rules.”
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moki-dokie · 3 days ago
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there's been a bit of a Hot Topic going around bsky (and twt too i guess) about why my age group (particularly in the US) doesn't cook at home much anymore
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and there's been a whole lot of takes ranging from dogshit to good and intelligent to total confusion from folks in other countries. neat stuff right. decided to throw my 2 cents in from my own perspective as part of the demographic.
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the tldr of it being: there are *several* factors that make it not worth it nor cost efficient anymore where it once was. obviously that isn't gonna be the case for everyone, but it is the case for an overwhelming majority, me included. and this isn't even including, you know, a whole population of disabled people who are physically unable to cook for themselves but I sort of figured that was a given. but maybe not, considering...
then this absolute genius comes in
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thank you buddy for having no reading comprehension and missing quite literally every single point i made that it isn't strictly about the dollar amount of the meal itself. like. okay??? good for you i guess.
sure, there will be some meals where that is very true. I could make a bigass pot of ham and beans that'll last me a whole week for about $10. hence why i added there will always be some meals cheaper to make at home. but that completely disregards every. other. point.
it is not, and has never been, about the direct cost of the meal itself. that's just one of a handful of reasons that factor into the whole conversation. there are going to be times that eating out will be more expensive price-wise, but when it checks off like 5 different boxes i couldn't fulfill myself for whatever reason, that price balances out. and we really are in an age where we're having to negotiate the worth of every action we take and every minute we spend on something. i don't know why thats such a hard concept for people to grasp.
legit nobody is arguing it *should* be this way. it shouldn't. we all recognize this. in the ideal world it would be both worth it and affordable to make every meal at home and leave eating out for special occasions, as was the case when i was growing up. and i totally get it that our parents, many of whom raised us by their lonesome, managed to do it fine so in theory we should be able to as well. sometimes, yeah, it really is a matter of sucking it up and doing it no matter how exhausted you might be. that's true for all facets of life tbh. but it shouldn't be that way all the time every time.
and, i don't know about the rest of you, but for us? it really was a whole fucking To Do to clip coupons and plan Shopping Day. I'd spend a couple hours clipping from a few different newspapers and the mail fliers we collected. then we organized them by store. then mom would plan out which stores we would go to for which items,the route we'd take since sometimes it meant going outside of town, the timeframe for everything since it was typically an all-day event. like, a whole day of planning and a whole day of executing JUST to grocery shop, and that was back in the 90s/00s. Inconvenient, yes, but still actually worth the trouble. couponing saved SO much money back then, especially if you knew the stores that would double them. coupons like those don't exist anymore. period. now the ones that do are like, pennies off or bogo deals and otherwise it's app this and app that for any sort of savings - which even then might only be like a meager 10% off the purchase. in no way is it worth my time and effort today to do the same thing we did when i was young.
anyway. so yeah. for a hell of a lot of us, sometimes going out to eat or ordering in is in fact the most worthwhile way, and sometimes even the most cost efficient way, to feed ourselves anymore.
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swappermanent · 2 days ago
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Freckles (Part 3 - Grandpa's POV)
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Life has changed a lot for me in the past nine months. You don’t realize just how much you miss about being young until you’ve got it back. I thought I had a good handle on things, swapping into Dylan every summer like clockwork. A week here, a week there—it was enough to scratch the itch, to remind me of what it felt like to have a strong back, quick reflexes, and boundless energy. But let me tell you, living in a young body for this long? It’s different. Night and day.
Kai—no, Theo now—was right. I’ll admit it. I was reluctant when he first said it to me, standing there in that smug stance of his, shirtless as always, grinning like he had the world figured out. “You clearly get a kick out of being in Dylan’s body,” he said, his tone dripping with knowing amusement. And damn if he didn’t have a point.
I hesitated back then, but looking at me now? I owe Theo a massive thank-you. Staying in Dylan’s body for longer than a week was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. For one thing, there’s a kind of freedom that comes with being young and I’ve been taking full advantage of it.
I live in Berlin now. Thanks to my little caveat—"Feel free to alter your body in any way you see fit during the year"—it was totally in bounds to do something like this. A new life, a fresh start. Berlin seemed like the obvious choice. The city practically begs you to reinvent yourself, to explore every side of who you are, no matter how deeply it’s been buried.
The real Dylan wasn’t thrilled about the move, but what could he do? We all already had Irish passports anyway, so it wasn’t like there were any logistical hurdles. He’ll get over it, I’m sure. Honestly, though, I think he’s secretly jealous.
Besides, this is the perfect place to explore my sexuality. Everyone here is so open—no judgment, no shame. I’ve had sex in all the clubs, even in the middle of Tempelhof Feld. Men, women—it doesn’t matter. And let me tell you, everyone wants my hog and body, which is in peak form.
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But the best night I’ve had was one where I wasn’t taking the active role in the encounter.. I’d been getting into leather lately, exploring the scene and one night, I found myself at a warehouse party. Dim red lights, pounding music, the smell of sweat and leather mingling in the air. I was dressed for the occasion—harness, boots, nothing else.
That’s where I met them. A Swedish guy, tall and broad-shouldered, with blond hair and piercing eyes that pinned me in place. And a Bulgarian guy, muscular, his dark eyes smoldering with a confidence that left no room for argument. They didn’t ask; they just knew I would take it.
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And I did.
They worked together like a symphony, positioning me between them with practiced ease. The Bulgarian was the first to push inside, his cock thick and unrelenting. I gasped, clutching at his shoulders as he filled me, stretching me in a way that felt like too much and just enough all at once. And then, the Swedish guy. His cock pressed against me, slick and insistent, until he slid in beside the first, my body opening up to take them both.
I’d never felt anything like it—the fullness, the weight of them moving in tandem, their rhythm so perfectly in sync it felt orchestrated. One of them reached around to stroke my cock, his grip firm and knowing, while the other’s hand moved to my chest, teasing my nipples until I was trembling. The pleasure was overwhelming, building in waves that crashed over me again and again, each one higher than the last.
When I finally came, it was like the entire world blurred out of existence. My cock pulsed in the Swedish guy’s hand, the orgasm tearing through me with a force that left me breathless. My legs nearly gave out, but they held me steady, their movements never faltering as they milked every last drop of pleasure from my body. By the time they finished, I was spent, my skin slick with sweat, my heart pounding like I’d run a marathon.
That night changed something in me. It wasn’t just the sex—it was the surrender, the freedom of letting go completely. Afterward, they helped me clean up, their touches surprisingly gentle, and we shared drinks at the bar, laughing and swapping stories like old friends.
And now? Well I think I’m officially a Berliner.
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iwilltrytobereasonable · 1 day ago
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Okay, I understand the spirit of this but because I know someone will read this extremely literally I’m gonna have to speak up for some ADHD people re: @thembo-x ‘s requirements.
Including, of course, myself.
I have been having trouble focusing on the written word since high school. I am every bit capable of sitting and reading a paragraph 10 times and still not recall what was in it. The brain gremlins say “No! If you focus go to sleep!” ALL the time.
It used to be that I could get around that if I was interested enough in a book, but some time around the beginning of adulthood even that wouldn’t save me and a book I desperately wanted to read would sit on my shelf for a decade. It took me two and a half years of concerted effort to read the 126 pages of the war commentaries of Caesar, even though I found them riveting.
Engagement with fans online helps a LOT. That’s how I got through Seven Pillars of Wisdom. But not every good book has an active fandom.
But! When I was in high school, I also figured out that I could hear better if my hands were doing something other than writing. Words on the page engage my auditory centers, but crocheting does not, nor doodling, peeling fava beans, drawing a very detailed face, spinning yarn, eating oatmeal. All of these fix the focus problem by keeping me engaged in production while not involving my auditory processing.
I can’t start books on the page and trust I can read through the opening chapters to the point of engagement. Audiobooks, however, allow me to use a fidget to fix the focus problem. And yes, I do sometimes need to rewind and catch something, but I’ve always needed to go back a reread here and there. Good books are often better the second time, any way you’ve read them.
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fuctacles · 3 days ago
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<< 14 | 0 | 16 >>
looking for dog-themed songs for the fic playlist
They sit facing each other on the warmed up concrete, having given away the lawn chairs to the girls. Steve is sliding every piece of onion off his skewer and onto Eddie's plate, which sits right next to his for easy sharing. It reminds him of cafeteria meals and swapping snacks with friends, something he never had with Steve, because of how different they were in high school. It makes him wonder if what he's feeling could really be mutual. 
"Are you staying for the movie?"
His eyes snap back up to meet Steve's, waiting for an answer. 
"I guess so. What are we watching?" It might not be the wisest to keep around while figuring himself out, but what is he going to do? Not spend time with his friends? 
Steve rolls his eyes. 
"The jury is still out," he answers dryly. "But I can guess some nerd shit will get majorly outvoted."
Eddie snorts.
"What would you pick? A baseball game?" he asks, chewing on a piece of meat. His fingers are getting greasy, but they forgot to grab napkins and standing up sounds like too much exercise. 
Steve moves the grilled bits on his plate with the now empty skewer. 
"Not really..." he says, all quiet and shy, which immediately grabs Eddie's attention. Wary of the food and drinks between them, he leans in conspiratorially. 
"You can tell me, I ain't a snitch," he reassures, and when Steve looks up, he adds a wink. Steve huffs out an amused breath.
"I like romantic comedies," he admits, watching Eddie warily, like he's awaiting judgement. 
"Huh." He sits back to properly take him in. "That kinda makes sense."
"Yeah?" Steve raises an eyebrow. 
"Yeah." Eddie shrugs, and now he's feeling self-conscious. "It suits you. We could watch something one day, your pick."
Ohmygodsohmygodsohmygods, do not invite Steve for one-on-one romcom watching—!
Steve's face lights up with a wide smile. 
"Oh, I'm going to hold you to that one, Munson," he teases, but it's obvious he's genuinely excited by the offer. 
"Already regretting I said it," Eddie teases back, but offers Steve a strip of bacon so he knows he doesn't mean it. 
Without thinking, he starts licking the grease off his fingers, and it takes him a moment to realize Steve stopped moving. He looks up with a questioning hum, fingertip in his mouth.
"You need a napkin?" Steve asks with a raise of his eyebrows. 
"Nah, I'm good," Eddie mumbles around his finger just to be difficult, and pushes it deeper, sucking with gusto. For once, Steve doesn't look into his eyes, too focused on his mouth. His cheeks are colored the faintest shade of pink, and Eddie finally realizes what he's been doing. He slides his finger out with a wet smack and smiles apologetically. "Sorry. Want me to lick yours too?" he offers, like the good friend that he is. 
Someone nearby chokes, but he's too focused on the bit to check who. Their fault for listening in, right?
Meanwhile, Steve's face turns tomato red. 
"Uh, I'll manage myself. I'm good at licking," he cringes as soon as the worlds leave his mouth, and Eddie almost chokes himself with how hard he laughs.
====
After the party, comes more cleaning. This time, as there's more people and everyone gets forced into using their two hands and opposable thumbs, it goes faster, though with much more complaining.
Sometime in the middle of filling the trash bags, Robin has changed the music. Steve sighs, when the first song plays, but by the next two, his head is nodding to the beat. On the chorus, his hips sway, and Eddie almost drops the plate he's holding. 
"Your song, dingus!" Robin yells when the next song starts, making Steve roll his eyes. But he's shimmying his shoulders and mouthing along to all the lyrics. 
They tie away their bags at the same time, which gives Eddie the misfortune of watching him free his hands and make a silly little dance.
"Well, you ain't never caught no rabbit, you ain't no friend of mine!" he mouths along, and when he catches Eddie staring, he gives him a sheepish smile and a wink.
"Should I find you more dog themed songs to dance to?" he raises his eyebrow with a smile.
"No—"
"Yes!" Robin pops out from behind him, seemingly out of nowhere. "I'm constantly on the look out, but there aren't many good songs. I want to make a playlist." She grins. 
"Oh, I'm in." Eddie smiles back, extending his hand. Their palms slap together, and Steve shakes his head.
"Wow. Traitors." 
"Oh, I'd never betray you, Hound Dog," Eddie declares with a hand to his heart. Steve flips him off.
====
They pick The Battle for Endor, which Steve accepts with a sigh and a quiet "At least it has teddies," something probably only Eddie can hear, since he's sitting right next to him. He starts dozing off halfway through anyway, but Eddie doesn't wake him up until the movie ends and they have to plan how to get the younger lot home. It was a busy day, after all. 
"I'm going home anyway, so I can take them," Nancy offers. 
"Don't be stupid," Steve mumbles in his half-asleep state. "You won't fit them in your car."
"I can get Max and Super Twins," Eddie says, and the grasp around his arm tightens. He looks down at Steve, suddenly awake and frowning.
"You're not staying?" he asks, audibly upset. 
"I'll come back," Eddie reassures him quickly, patting his hand. "Okay! Mad Max, Wonder Twins, grab your shit. The sooner we leave, the closer I am to getting wasted," he commands, gently prying himself out of Steve's grasp. He scratches behind his ear as a consolation. "Should I grab anything while I'm out?"
"No," Steve says quickly, even though Jonathan has already opened his mouth, most probably with a request.
Something twists in Eddie's chest.
"Okay, buddy, I'll be back as soon as I can, no detours," he reassures again, with another scratch. 
"Okay, thanks." Steve closes his eyes briefly, but then blinks them open and pushes at his thigh, like his mind has suddenly cleared from the remnants of sleep. "Be quick, but without breaking the law." He smiles up at Eddie.
"Ugh, fine." He rolls his eyes. "Be right back," he nudges Steve's head before motioning the kids to follow him outside. 
It's suddenly silent, with the movie over and most of the people gone from the room. Steve clears his throat, watching Robin crawl over the carpet to rewind the tape. 
"So only Nancy isn't staying?" he asks, looking around the room. 
"I already told my parents I'm sleeping over." Robin shrugs. 
Jonathan and Argyle look at each other, like they are communicating in a way not dissimilar to Steve and Robin.
"It's good vibes here, man," Argyle says, his hair swaying as he nods. 
"Eddie promised we'll compare the goods," Jonathan adds. 
"Oh, right!" his friend perks up, his eyes sparkling. "Almost forgot about that."
Robin makes a face. 
"God, I really hope you mean the weed," she says. "You think I can still persuade Nancy to come back?"
The boys start snickering, but Steve quickly collects himself to answer her question, no matter how unserious it is. 
"I think she wouldn't be comfortable," he winces, because they all know why. "But I could drive you to hers if you want to?" he offers instead. 
She shakes her head. 
"Nah, just give me a beer and I'll lower my joke standards to yours."
"Okay, you don't have to be mean, Robs," Steve rolls his eyes, but he's smiling. On his way to the kitchen, he tugs on her hair. "Beers for everyone?" He turns to look at each of his remaining guests.
Jonathan nods, but Argyle shakes his head. 
"I don't mix my substances," he says, pulling out a joint out of his pocket instead. 
When Eddie comes back, he makes a beeline upstairs, hoping he hasn't been spotted. He doubts his van hasn't been heard, her old-lady coughs being a part of her charm, but maybe he was stealthy enough inside not to be traced. 
But once he's back down he realizes how foolish that thought was. Because somehow, Steve is ridiculously attuned to him and has his eyes on Eddie immediately, like he's been expecting him. A cold bottle of beer is pressed into his hand when he sits back in the seat that's been waiting for him. 
"Dropped some stuff upstairs, since I'm sleeping over again," he explains quietly without prompting, his nervousness making him yap unnecessarily, as usual. "Uh, are we bunking together too, or...?" It was probably stupid of him to assume, considering there are more people in the house today that need a place to sleep. 
Considering his own freak out this morning. 
"Of course," Steve says with a smile that tells him no other option had crossed his mind. "Unless you don't want to?" he cocks his head, almost like he's tilting curious, pointed ears. "I promise to wear pants this time." 
Jonathan chokes on his beer, and when Eddie snaps his head that way, Argyle gives him a supportive smile and that weird surfer gesture, while patting Jon on the back.
He hopes the dim light of the room hides the flush of embarrassment on his face. 
"Well, since you promise to be decent, how could I say no?" he says, rolling his head back to Steve. 
Steve, who gives him a relieved, dazzling smile, and presses their thighs together, flooding his whole body with warmth.
It's terrifying, how good it feels. 
tags: @noodle-shenaniganery @jaytriesstrangerthings @imaginary-maggie-waggie @samsoble @croatoan-like-its-hot
@dragonmama76 @storyranger @scoops-aboy86 @ollyxar @estrellami-1
@stevesworldxx @ajeff855 @live-laugh-love-dietrich @thelittleclare @wheneverfeasible
@bumblebeecuttlefishes @blasvemous @phantomcat94 @n33dlew0rk @manliest-of-muppets
@ravenfrog @dreamercec @tartarusknight @eyehartart
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Red | The Salesman
Pairing: The Salesman x fem!reader
Summary: After a tiring day, you're just trying to go home, but while you're waiting on your train, a handsome man in a suit stumbles on you.
Warning/s: betting, money in exchange for a game, slapping (on the face, you nasty), salesman trying to recruit you for the games, smoking cigarettes, people on the station being kind of weirded out, maybe some cursing (idk), reader is in debt, possible grammar and spelling mistakes
Author's note: So this is like the prequel to my story Russian Roulette, but it really doesn't matter whether you read that fic or this one first. You do you. I really love the request, btw. Hope you enjoy!
Request: hii can u make more stories in this story line between the reader n him? like i rlly wanna know what they were like tgthr before this situation since we r told they had smth tgthr at some point tyyyy
Part 2 here!!
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The bench where I was sitting was quite cold, which, of course, wasn't surprising considering how cold it was tonight. My hand slightly shook as I wrapped my fingers around the lit up cigarette that I was smoking for who knows how long. My flimsy jacket that was wrapped around me did not bring exact comfort to me that I had hoped it would.
Shivering there, I sat as the announcer's voice rang around the train station, signaling that the train that I was waiting for to go home would be slightly delayed, forcing me to wait there for entire hour more than I should be waiting. It was already late and I was so done with today's day.
Trying to earn money was hard, especially when you're in a lot of debt. Being chased by the people who you owe money to, threatening to cut out your eyes, possibly even kill you in the end, wasn't fun either. You had to learn to sleep with one eye open. Constantly on edge, just like I was right now.
The job that I worked did not provide as much money as I needed it to. There was simply no way for me to earn enough money for food every day, to pay rent which I was already three months behind. My landlord was truly a fucking angel for letting me live in that house as long as I did, but I knew that that wouldn't last forever either. There was no way that I could afford to pay everything that was essential, let alone pay off my debts.
In frustration, letting out a deep, disappointed sigh, my hand slid into the pocket of my jacket, reaching for yet another cigarette and a lighter.
"Hello, miss."
I practically jumped from my seat, startled by a sudden voice next to me. I whipped my head around, finding the face that this voice belonged to.
Right next to me, smiling, was a very handsome man that looked like some kind of salesman. He was wearing a very expensive suit. His hair was as black as the night sky. His piercing eyes just as black. There was little to no facial hair, but that really suited him. He was very handsome and I quickly found myself surprised when I realized that he was actually talking to me.
"Can I talk to you?" He asked once he noticed how startled I was.
"I'm not a prostitute, sir." I said, sliding away on the bench further away from him.
"Don't worry, miss, it's not that." He chuckled gently, his eyes never leaving mine. "I just want to let you in on a great opportunity to win some money."
There was just silence for a while. I sad nothing all the while he kept looking at me.
"Um..." I looked at him and, for a while, just couldn't bring myself to speak up. "No, thank you."
"'No'?" He asked.
It seemed like I caught him by surprise, but after a little while I noticed something else in his eyes that I just couldn't seem to figure out. Some kind of amazement? Respect even? But there was definitely something that I couldn't label quite yet.
"There is definitely a catch." I smiled slightly. I would love to get some money, of course, but I know that it won't be that easy.
"Miss." The salesman smiled once again, his eyes surprisingly gently just like his voice as he spoke. "Would you like to play a game with me?
"Wha-What kind of g-game?" I found myself stuttering a bit. "Look, if this is some sort of sick perverted thing you're doing 'cause I swear if you try something, I am going to scream." I threatened, a newfound confidence overwhelming me.
He chuckled once more, "No, nothing like that, Miss."
All of a sudden, he quickly turned his face away from me as he reached to open his suitcase. I could swear that for a split second I saw him blush, but then I realized that I probably imagined it because there's no way. I mean, sure, he is very handsome, but the two of us are a whole world apart, too different from each other.
"I'm sure you've played ddakji before, right?" He spoke and I looked at the open suitcase that was resting between us.
There were a few piles of money on one side and two different colors of ddakji on the other side. Red and blue. I looked at him with surprise.
"You-You want me to play ddakji with you?" I asked, raising my eyebrow in question.
He nodded with a smile.
"For money?"
He nodded again, "Play a few rounds of ddakji with me and each time you win, I'll pay you a 100,000 won."
Damn.
I mean, sure, why not. I loved that game when I was a kid, and I didn't have a chance to play the game in what seemed like forever. Plus, if I win, I get money. It all seemed amazing, but then I realized what the problem with all of this could be.
"And what if I lose and you win." I asked, he continued to smile as he answered.
"Then you pay me 100,000 won."
"Sir, this is amazing and all, don't get me wrong." I gently said, "But I'm afraid that I don't have the money to pay you back."
"That is all right, miss." His smile unwavering. "We'll figure something else regarding that if it comes to it."
For a moment, I just sat there in silence, pondering the offer. But after a while I finally decided.
"Ah, sure," I sighed before matching his smile and meet his eyes, "Why not?"
"What color would you like to play as?" He asked me, taking both red and blue ddakji as I stood up. He followed me almost immediately.
"Red, please." I said and he smiled as he handed me the red ddakji.
As I reached for the red one that he was handing me out, our hands touched. For a moment we both froze, but then I quickly took the ddakji and moved away.
It was so strange. The feeling I got when I touched his hand. It was as if some sort of electricity went straight through me, forcing me to quickly move away due to the shock of it all.
He cleared his throat before extending his right hand, pointing to the floor, "You gotta first, Miss."
I nodded, and with that, he placed the blue ddakji on the ground, and I stood over it. I took a stronger hold of the red ddakji and stood up more straight as I glared at the blue ddakji. Goodness, I haven't done this in years, I thought to myself, letting out a shaky breath.
I took a deep breath.
I could feel his eyes on me.
I swang my arm behind my head before powerfully striking his blue ddakji. Apparently, I must have done something wrong because his blue ddakji moved but did not flip over. I let out a sigh, looking kind of defeated.
He stepped forward, grabbed his blue ddakji, and stood back up. I moved away, giving him more space, his eyes folowing my every move. Almost immediately, he swang his arm behind his head, slaming his blue ddakji on my red one, flipping it over with ease. I sighed as he turned to look at me, teasing smile making it's way on his face.
"So..." I spoke up, kind of unsure and slightly intimidated, "So what now? I lost."
"Don't worry about money." He spoke up, kind of surprising me with that one, "We'll discuss it at the end if that is okay with you, Miss?"
"Sure." I answered him, meeting his eyes.
His smile widened a little bit more as we, for a few moments, just stood there taking each other in. All of a sudden, he cleared his throat, snapping himself out of it.
"One more round?" He asked as he fixed his tie, I nodded, not saying a word.
Turns out, one round meant about five more. I lost every single round. It truly began to seem like luck wasn't on my side that day.
We got to the last round, the sixth one. I was getting annoyed, constantly losing. I took a deep breath. His blue ddakji stared at me, my red one locked in my hand. I flipped my ddakji over and decided that that was it. I swang my hand behind my head and delivered the most powerful swing yet. I stared at his blue ddakji and my red one as both of them flipped in the air before his blue ddakji landed on the cold floor. It flipped over... I won...
I couldn't help the laugh that escaped my lips as he gave me a little applause, smiling as I jokingly bowed.
"Wow," I chuckled, "I finally won the round."
"Well done, Miss." He chuckled lowly, but somehow so softly as he reopened his suitcase handing me 100,000 won. "As promised."
"Thank you," I said, taking the money, "but I lost like five times. Tell me, what can I possibly give you to make this even."
"How about you give me the pleasure of taking you out for dinner, Miss?" He spoke up almost shyly in a way that was so endearing, and even though it seemed like that look wouldn't fit him, it somehow did. "Only if you want to, of course."
"I..." I spoke up stuttering and blushing a bit, surprised by his offer, "I would love to."
After that interesting interaction, we went out to get dinner. I had a great time with him, and even though I hated to admit it, I started to like him. We talked on and on about random things. We were truly having fun and that made my day so much better.
Before separating, he gifted me a blood red rose, and he gave me a card that looked really strange. At the front of the brownish card was a circle, a triangle, and a square. I flipped the card over and saw what looked like a telephone number.
"Miss, there are other games like the one that we played where you can make even more money than you did. So much more." He started to explain, but his expression became different. His smile was gone and there was a sort of gloomy gaze in his eyes. That seemed to surprise him. "Think about it."
He stepped closer to me, looked me deep in the eyes before he started to slowly lean in. I found myself doing the same. Our lips met. We were just standing there, outside of the restaurant, rose in my hand, his hands on my face deepening the kiss.
As we parted ways, he told me that he hoped to see me again if I made it. Whatever that meant.
I took another look at the card that he gave me, staring at the number, not knowing that I will meet my childhood friend Gi-hun, not knowing what the games will do to both of us and to all the other people, not knowing the amount of money I was gonna win, not knowing that I will spend the next three years of my life chasing the man of my life, trying to haunt him down, not knowing how dangerous the last game that we'll play will be.
TAGLIST:
@shadow-tumbler
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fishing-lesbian-catgirl · 5 hours ago
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When I was around 8 years old, before I had any idea about sex organs being what determined someone’s assigned gender, I came to the conclusion that I was very likely not a boy. Since I’d seen in cartoons and movies and stuff that when a baby is born the doctor looks and announces whether it’s a boy or a girl, I made the assumption that the doctor must’ve made a mistake for me. I figured that it must be something only a doctor can tell, and that surely they mess up sometimes. Then I started worrying about what would happen when my parents find out.
After a while I accepted things and stopped thinking about it, but many years later, after I made some big realizations about myself that memory haunts me. She knew all those years back, and she couldn’t do anything about it…
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marsvs-thesun · 2 days ago
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Had a similar experience after I failed to kill myself
Basically Ive gone to hide in a woody area and after figuring out I couldn't do knots, failing at my backup plan and having a proper honest to God mental breakdown, the only thing left for me to do is the Walk Of Shame back home.
It's night and for autism reasons the thought of walking into a light is unbearable, so as when I get off the path and find a streetlight I cant just creep around, I just kinda stand there for a second.
So Im trying to convince myself that I 1) want to go home and 2) care enough to not go back and finish the job, and Im just staaaaring at the streetlight when I hear someone gasp.
Now, I just tried to commit death in the woods. Im hunched over, rocking back and forth, sobbing/hissing occasionally, there's probably leaves in my hair. I cant speak, I can barely move. Im exhausted so my body is visibly shaking. I'm hiding from the light. Im exceptionally zombie-like. Incidentally, there are two 7-ish girls on the other side of the road looking terrified.
I stop moving. They stop moving. We just stare at each other until my phone (no pockets! Shaking hands!) falls on the floor.
Girl 1 screams. Girl 2, who would probably survive any horror movie, throws her shoes at my face. They run away screaming.
So that should be the end of that. Except. There's now a little girl somewhere on this road barefoot. And the road is disgusting. And I have her shoes on my face in my hands. If I do nothing she's gonna get the black plague or something. My brain 180s from "light bad death good" to "must protecc" and I shamble go after them.
Ill pass the 20 something minutes of zombie action that follow cause frankly it was a super traumatic event and not all of it stuck in brain but when I found them again, the girls had gathered their grandma and I was in the light and thus much less frightening. I still had to put the shoes on the floor and step back like one would to surrender a gun, but they got the shoes back, their grandma explained i was a person having a bad day and I got to go home and not be arrested.
Happy endings all around, but I hope they don't remember me.
Imagine going on a walk on a really foggy day, enjoying the vaguely eerie, faint and distant aesthetic of it all, and the soft quiet of having no other people around. You're about to cross a familiar bridge when you suddenly feel lightheaded. It's nothing to worry about, just a weirdly wobbly feeling that means you should sit down. And probably get more iron in your diet. Either way, you need to get up and you need to cross this bridge to get home. But now being alone has put this weird fear in you - irrational or not - that if you walk over the bridge, you might get dizzy again and fall from it.
Weird and lonely problems require weird and lonely solutions. Since you're all alone here anyhow, you can act strange if you need to. So you get down on all fours - not on your hands and knees, but on the balls of your feet, like a dog. And like this, you start to slowly creep over the bridge. Nice and slow, happy about your solution that made it feel safe to cross and get home. You can be weird if you want to, nobody's judging here.
You're creeping at a comfortable speed, very slowly, but the bridge isn't that long. You can kind of make out the outlines of things on the other side through the mist. The end of the bridge, a familiar tree, a streetlamp, the silhouette of a bush and-
A person. A human figure. You freeze mid-step to stare. That is the most definitely the outline of a person, standing perfectly still. Staring right at you. You don't know how long this moment lingers, but eventually you can't hold your balance anymore and you have to step forward, placing your open palm back on the cold damp bridge. The figure turns, and takes off running. Bolting off in a very normal, startled way that anyone would when they're spooked.
It occurs to you that you only saw the vague outline of an unexpected person, an obscure figure standing in the fog. They, however, saw the vague outline of you, something perhaps vaguely human-shaped, but moving in a way that people simply do not, slowly, very slowly, creeping over a bridge.
Assuming that nobody would see you, you accidentally became someone's unexplained Silent Hill experience.
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insomniadreamzz · 15 hours ago
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OK OK OK FOLLOWING THE PREGNANCY STORYLINE LETS IMAGINE ISHA IS HERE A CUTE FLUFFY THING WITH EITHER ISHA MEETING THE BABY OR FINDING OUT READER IS PREGNANT AND THAT SHES GONNA BE A BIG SIS
Our family
Jinx x Fem!Reader ft. Isha (plus a little bonus with Sevika)
Fluff
A continuation from the fic „My Everything“ https://www.tumblr.com/insomniadreamzz/772011828255621120/hey-how-are-you-i-wanted-to-request-gp-jinx-x
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You still remember when Isha found out she gonna be a big sister, the way her eyes were literally glowing with happiness. Isha was mute but she expressed her happiness clearly, already doing little doodles of her and her sister together with you and Jinx. The way she put her little head on your baby bump to feel her sister kick, it was just too cute.
Jinx already set up some stuff for the little one, making sure youre gonna have everything you needed when the baby will arrive and soon it happened.
You can still remember how Jinx held your hand and never left your side. Singed, the only doctor here in Zaun also made an appearance to make sure everything went well. He wasn’t used to be part of something like that very often but he was glad he could help you out in that situation. Jinx kisses on your forehead and the way she encouraged you during that hard time, it was still stuck in your head how gentle and loving she can be and then it happened. When you first heard your little one cry, both of you shed tears of happiness, feeling relieved that everything went good. It was a little girl.
When you both got back home after that, Jinx immediately ushered you to bed, figuring you must be tired as you had your newborn in your arms, Jinx never leaving your side.
„Look how cute she is…our little one…“ She cooed, holding you close as she admired your daughter, making you smile so happily. „Of course she is, she is ours.“ You mentioned, looking into your girlfriend’s eyes. „What should we name her?“ You asked and Jinx already got an idea, something that she was thinking about for a longer time now since she knew you are pregnant.
„Powder.“ Jinx said, making your eyes widen in confusion, knowing it was Jinx‘s actual name. „Powder?“ You asked, Jinx nodding in response. „Yes. I want to have a good connection to that name now. Every time I hear it I have to think about myself when I was younger and…certain things happened but I want to forget that. I want to be happy hearing the name Powder and not feel triggered anymore by that name. She will be a better Powder, not like me. I am Jinx now, Powder died in me but we can make her be a better Powder than I was.“ You heard her voice crack a little, seeing little tears running down her cheeks. This really meant a lot to Jinx, you knew it. „Then she will be Powder.“ You agreed with her, using your free hand to caress her back gently, getting back her attention towards you. „Thank you my love.“ She said before placing a little kiss on your lips.
The moment got interrupted by little footsteps, it was Isha who curiously walked up to you, Jinx shifting to make space for Isha between you both. „Isha! Come here, say hello to your little sister.“ Jinx said, letting the girl slip beside you as she looked at the little one with wide happy eyes, her small hand gently touching Powder as if welcoming her.
„Now you are a big sister. You can show her everything when she gets a little bigger, cool right?“ You said, Isha nodding at your words, feeling really happy to be a big sister now plus she was excited to have someone to play with in the future as well.
You talked a little more this evening until all of you just fell asleep. Powder on your chest and Isha sleeping between you and Jinx, all cuddled up in one bed. It was a very peaceful moment. Jinx slept for the first time very happily and calm, the voices in her head not bothering her at all. She was truly happy for the first time and she won’t let anyone destroy this happy life she had.
The next morning Sevika was on her way to Jinx’s hideout, it’s been a while since she showed up, probably hanging around in the Last Drop or doing her usual work. Sevika knew Jinx from when Silco took her with him so she felt like she had to look for her every now and then, making sure Jinx was alright.
„Jinx where the fuck are-…“ She started but stopped immediately in her tracks as she saw Jinx holding a baby while you and Isha were still sleeping cuddled up together. „Where did that baby come from?“ She asked with a raised eyebrow, not trusting this situation for now.
„That’s my daughter which came right out of my girlfriend if you want to know.“ Jinx replied with her usual sassy behavior. Sevika didn’t want to know any more details, shaking it off as she stepped closer to Jinx, having a closer look at the baby. „That’s…really yours?“ She asked again, being a little bit shocked, Jinx nodding in response. „Yep! Does auntie Sevika want to say hello to little Powder? Or are you gonna chicken out?“ Obviously Jinx had to tease Sevika but the older woman didn’t let her make her annoyed as she just nodded. Jinx helped Sevika to hold Powder with her arm, the baby looking even smaller in her strong arm. „There you go.“
Sevika stared at the baby with a unusual soft gaze. „Aw…did you just say auntie Sevika?“ She asked to be sure. „Of course! You’re the only one left who’s like a family to me after Silco died.“ Jinx became soft as she said that, thinking it was about time to speak the truth to Sevika, making the other womans eyes water a little. „Silco would be so happy and proud of you Jinx.“ Sevika mentioned, making Jinx almost cry but she held back her tears. Instead a little tear rolled down Sevika‘s cheek. „Are you crying?“ Jinx tilted her head as she gazed at Sevika who just shook her head. „No I am not.“ She said, making Jinx chuckle in response. „Damn you are a bad liar.“
And with that both started chuckling.
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