#like bitch do NOT play with me you do not and frankly CAN not give a shit about this person sincerely

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - Why so much on right now?

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

NOV 2024 Week 4

Ongoing Series - Thai

Your Sky (Sun iQIYI) ep 1 of 12 - Classic old school Thai BL. Of course I love it. Naïve sunshine freshman vs strict older protective boy (who already likes him but refuses to show it). Is he grumpy or just gay and tired of all of these women? We don’t know. We don’t care. We just want to see them fake a relationship. And that’s what we’re getting. I love it. I also love the friendship group, and that the younger brother is in it and he has some of the same magic BL-hottie superpowers as his older brother. It’s great.

Love Sick 2024 (Sun iQIYI) ep 10 of 15 - Phun actually turns into dangerous babygirl when he is flirting, who knew? (Dangerous Babygirl is a new archetype I have just invented by the way. Yes, I am pleased with myself.) Noh, who is a nice boy, doesn’t stand a chance. Neither does Jeed, since this new babygirl superpower gives Phun a damn near perfect “back off bitch” face.

The arm drape public claiming, it gets me every time. Has done since SOTUS. Nong Mick is hero-level in this version, hands-down my favorite character this time around (and a non-entity last time). I love him so much I can’t stand it. I haven’t updated my 1:1 comparison yet this week, didn’t have time to rewatch 2014, but I will later tonight.  I'm chronicling my experience with 2024 as compared to 2014 here. 

Kidnap (Fri Gaga) ep 12 end - What an absolutely excellent final episode. Smiley kisses! 

Conclusion 

A cute if patently absurd little show about a stuntman who is somehow convinced to kidnap a rich kid except they fall in love. It takes itself a little more seriously than it deserves for such a silly plot and some crappy stunts and contradictory content, but it was a pleasantly romantic experience all around, and I enjoyed myself. Extra credit for Q in that perfect blue color throughout. No complaints, a solid BL. 8/10 

The Heart Killers (Weds Gaga) ep 1 of 12 - Jojo directs FirstKhao & JoongDunk in an action romcom about assassin brothers (Khao & Joong) who meet a tattoo artist (First) and a cocky mechanic (Dunk). I'm highly amused that Joong plays the older brother to Khao and that we have a take on the Taming of the ShrewBL. This has all GMMTV's best chemistry in one BL and some fresh concepts that I've only seen tackled in m/m romance novels (check out Amy Lane's Racing for the Sun, thank me later). My only quibble is Jojo, I like his style but his characters can get unreliably messy so…... this gonna be interesting.

Buckle up buttercups I got thoughts:

Frankly, I haven’t decided if this is good or so bad and so camp that it’s good? The latter I suspect. Either way, I’m enjoying it very much, but I had very little doubt that I would. This falls into so many of my wheelhouses. Not just the premise but the casting and the approach and the script. They pretty much knocked it out of the park with the first episode: one night stand + safe sex + linguistic negotiation = I’m in! During the opening sequence I spent the entire time worried about how many fingerprints Bison was leaving everywhere. And then I realized this show is going to require DEMAND we turn our brains entirely off.

We are in KinnPorshce / The Sign territory people. Take emergency precautions! Do not engage brain meats!

Kiss Me Kate only gay and hitmen? Frankly, it sells itself. The music is extremely stupid though. (Brain, stop it!) I gotta say that FirstKhao are good because…… FirstKhao. But JoongDunk are absolutely perfectly cast. Like: couldn’t be a better pair in these roles. Dunk, in particular, is slaying. I did not have Dunk as Petruchio down on my “best casting choice of all time” BL bingo card, but apparently there he is. Awesome. 

Fourever You (Thurs YT) ep 8 of 16 - I’m warming up to the second couple a little bit. I actually don’t mind a bully romance the way some do. But this isn’t quite hitting the notes that I want from one. Still, I found this week more engaging than last week. 

Secret Love (? YT?) 1-12 of 81 eps - They dropped 12 eps at once randomly on YT totaling about 20 min. So of course, I watched it. Because I have no self-control and STEPBROTHERS! Adopted into a rich family, boy falls in love with heir. But when he is made the heir instead, everything goes wrong. Now enemies the two boys reunite and sparks! I hate this format but dammit I love this utter dross. It’s very early Chinese BL feeling but from Thailand. I don’t care. It’s so stupidly great. This is my kind of BL.

Caged Again (Fri Gaga) ep 3 of 10 - There is something sweetly innocent and earnest about this show. It reminds me of Takara and Amagi or even Light On Me but less stiff - this one is quintessentially quirky and casually Thai about it. It’s interesting that this has an 18+ rating, which means it’s either gonna go very violent or sexy or both. Right now I can’t imagine that, it doesn’t suit. But I’m looking forward to seeing where this goes. Junior with his Mean Girl crop top moment is the goddess of the week though. Fierce queen penguin.

Perfect 10 Liners (Sun YT?) ep 4 of 24 - I love the side couple so damn much. How are they so adorable? Still not wild about the mains, and not likely to get there anytime soon. That said, I did like seeing the “sleeping in your boyfriend‘s class while he gives you his jacket” trope drop. We haven’t had that one for a really long time. My Engineer maybe?

Every You Every Me (Mon Gaga) ep 7 of 8 - I did find this installment kind of boring. I just don’t like actors as main characters. Much as I’m enjoying this show and I think the actors are doing a good job, I really do wish it was more like what we had been sold on: Connected reborn characters fated to be together over and over again. Not this weird little mishmash of whatever. I’m now annoyed by a format I was initially charmed by. 

Jack & Joker (Mon IQIYI) ep 10-11 of 12 - still on hold until it ends or I can cope with the pain.  I just can’t go into darkness right now.

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Our Youth AKA Miseinen: Mijukuna Oretachi wa Bukiyo ni Shinkochu (Japan Tues Gaga) ep 3 of 11 - SNIFF TEST! But done by Japan so it’s that much better and more kinky. The way H looks at M pretty much defines naked lust. “I got extra beat up so you’d take pity on me and then I admitted it to you” is so damn warped I can’t even with this boy. This feral kid is gonna drive me feral. The power and the control and the execution of this show is just spectacular. I keep thinking about it after its done and telling people IRL about it. (I rarely talk BL IRL.) It’s classy. I do love it when Japan does classy BL for us. 

See Your Love (Taiwan Weds Gaga) ep 6 of 13 - so completely and utterly adorable. The learning sign language thing! I loved it so much.

Love is Like a Poison AKA Doku Koi: Doku mo Sugireba Koi to Naru (Japan Tues Netflix?) 10 of 12 eps - Possibly one of the best confessions of the year I have to say. Also a wonderful character growth arc for our lawyer. Exactly as one might hope. The plot twist was slightly predictable but still adds a delicious note of tension to our final episodes.

Blue Canvas of Youthful Days (China Sun iQIYI) eps 7-8 of 12 - You don’t want me but you won’t let anybody else have me either. The song of the repressed seme. I did like the irrational jealousy moment and a few other bits, of course the crying kiss. You know I love a crying kiss. Even if it’s a somewhat censored one. But this is also leaning a little bit darker than I want at the moment. This being China, I anticipate the darkness and doom getting worse not better.

Teenager Judge (Vietnam Sat YT) ep 9 of ? - The incredible migrating lip injury continues. Could we please get on with the BL aspect of this show? I’m getting frustrated as well as slightly bored at this juncture. Pacing darlings. Pacing.

Love in the Air: Koi no Yokan (Japan Sat Gaga) ep 4 of 10 - Still not sure. I think I like this better than the original, but I’m confused. I did make disgusted scoff noises and say “oh dear” a couple of times. Which makes me sound like a World War II grandpa (only the housemate's cat noticed), but is also classic me when profoundly disappointed by a piece of media. That’s said, the sex scene was pretty good. In the end, I wasn’t as frustrated by this version of these characters, but they didn’t have as many highs or lows as the original. So first half probably works out about the same in my all-purpose rating system. The true proof in the pudding is going to be couple number 2 tho......

It's airing but......

Winter Is Not The Death of Summer (Weds YT) ?? eps - Criminals who meet in prison fall in love. I did find it on YouTube, but I did not find any English subs for it. The first episode seems to be only six minutes long. It is very pulp. But it is intriguing. So I hope it gets some sort of international or something at some point. for now I’ll put it to the wayside.

Bad Guy My Boss (Thai Sun Gaga) 10 eps - I DNF'd at ep 7, I couldn't make it. I am weak. Life is hard enough right now, this show is making it harder. It’s not what I want from my entertainment.

Bad to Bed (Taiwan Sat YT) 10 eps - This is a little too low production value even for me + just very very odd. DNF

In Case You Missed it

Love for Loves Sake got some kind of special on 11/9. Not sure what, why, or where. Only the rumor that it...... is. I'll believe it when I see it...... literally. Let me know if you found it.

The Bangkok Podcast covered Marriage Equality in Thailand: More Complex Than it Seems. They missed some of the point and all of the queer perspective. But it's a local lawyer talking about it and how it was implemented, which is quite interesting.

Dominant Yakuza and Wimpy Corporate Slave AKA Ore-sama Yakuza to Hetare Shachiku: Kuni wo Koeta Jingi Naki Dekiai, Japan YT. A 30 min slice of ridiculousness. This mini walked out the back of one of my 1999 yaoi (you know those little shorts they always had along with the main story?) and randomly got cut together by some helpful malcontent, tumbled into my YT feed like a Taiwanese prat fall, and I couldn't be happier.

This is the Cliff's notes of a story that could have been amazing, but I adored it anyway. Basically what it says on the tin: office cutie from Taiwan working in Japan runs across hot AF mafia hit man beating up lesser thugs. Falls instantly in love, turns out so does the yakuza. They end up together for...... reasons? (one is cute and the other is cool?) That's it. It's dumb and I loved it. 7/10 because it really isn't good, but it lives on in a very warped corner of my shriveled old heart.

Next Week Looks Like This:

Still to come:

11/28 Spare Me Your Mercy (Thai Thurs iQIYI) 8 eps on OneD (no word on inter) - Increased rates of deaths in terminal patients has a police captain investigating the palliative care doctor with whom he's fallen in love. Their relationship deepens but the mystery persists, driven by mistrust. Adapted from the novel "Euthanasia" by Sammon (Triage, Manner of Death) stars some old guard BL actors: Tor Thanapob from Hormones as the doctor and (fuck me YES) Jaylerr from Great Men Academy and goddamn Grean Fictions as the captain!

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

We stan a smitten seme who's too reserved for his own good. Sunshine is gonna have this boy wrapped around his little finger in no time. (Well in 12 eps, but we know what we like!) Your Sky

King behavior.

Dangerous Babygirl behavior.

Both Love Sick 2024.

(last week)

The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @sunflower-positiiivity @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire @mestizashinrin @bl-bam-beyond @small-dark-and-delicious @saezurumurmurs

[butwhatifidothis]

I LOVED To Be a Creature, and it genuinely creeped me out to see the things Edelgard and Hubert said to Byleth (though it's the same as the game, stripped out of its voice acting and background music, the dialogue is so much more horrifying). Really makes me wonder if Edelgard's love for Byleth is genuine in any way. Do you think there's any real love there or is it just obsession?

Thank you!!! I had a feeling that placing Edelgard and Hubert's words in a context that isn't meant to make them look flattering would really let their casual racism shine, and I'm glad it's seeming like that is in fact the impression people are getting lol. SO sorry for the late answer btw 😭😭😭

As for whether Edelgard's love is genuine... I got opinions lmao.

got a bit long lmao under the cut it goes

If Edelgard felt the way she does for Byleth on exclusively SS and CF, I could maybe see how this is a "genuine" love (insofar as a love steeped in "I may hate your race but you're special and Not Like The Other Ones because I think you're special to me" can, uh, ever be genuine, in any case). But because Edelgard still feels as strongly towards Byleth on AM and VW where she quite literally never talks to them directly in any meaningful way, it becomes waaaaay more like she's just weirdly obsessed with this person who saved her one singular time ever five years ago from an attack Edelgard set up. It makes the "love" way more forced and contrived and obviously trying to squeeze tears out of the player for standing up against the cute girly trying to murder them. Or, alternatively, it makes Edelgard come off as manipulative, saying that she just wanted to walk with Byleth and it makes her so sad to HAVE to fight Byleth because BYLETH wouldn't stand by HER - and she's saying this on AM/VW to a person she's talked to in conversation a cumulative, what? Hour? Two? Maybe a few days, being nice? Over the course of, being as absolutely generous as physically possible and not counting the five years Byleth was missing... two fucking years? She's shitting herself over fighting this stranger she doesn't fucking know? Yeah, sure buddy, whatever you say - you see what I mean?

And honestly even outside of those two routes, I think it's more that she sees Byleth as being hers rather than actually liking them for who they are. A body to stand next to her and tell her how right she is and comfort her - who doesn't have the background of "I was literally raised to think this is my only purpose in life" muddying the sincerity of the brown-nosing - who also happens to also act as The Perfect Fighter and The Perfect Strategist to actively help her get what she wants. That view of Byleth being a tool doesn't really go away unless they marry her, seen by how they quite literally get nothing for all they've done for Edelgard should they go unmarried to a noble (guess they just weren't meritable enough once their use to her was done).

As well as how much more Edelgard doesn't like Byleth disagreeing with her or otherwise going against her flow than pretty much anyone else in the game - you lose supports points if you don't think the Black Eagle Strike Force name she made is good, she quickly denies the notion that Byleth is detached from others/emotions and insists they are just like she is, she gives them the same callous and thoughtless words she was apparently given once in her life while they are in the midst of mourning their recently murdered father so that they get over it already and get back to being useful to her (directly saying she will only reach out her hand when it's time for HER to move forward, not when BYLETH heals from WATCHING THEIR DAD DIE IN THEIR FUCKING ARMS MAYBE A WEEK AGO). She never treats Byleth kindly unless they do everything she wants, which like. Isn't love???? At all????

There's just this... weirdly possessive air Edelgard has around Byleth that always threw me off, especially with how easily she admits to have been willing to kill them so far into CF and how readily she cuts ties with them the second the fighting's done (which is particular because how just how clingy she was to Byleth everywhere else - you know during all that time Byleth had a use to her). Incorporating that into being an intentional part of her character is certainly interesting, but not in a way that's flattering to the idea of Edelgard genuinely being in love with Byleth lmao.

Personally tho, even disregarding almost everything else, the simple explanation is that I don't think you can really sit there and say you love someone while openly hating part of their racial heritage. Wild thought, I know lmao

[slytherinslut0]

SLYTHERINSLUT0’S KINKTOBER

october 18th. mattheo — hate fucking / enemies.

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST. | 2024.

summary: “at least her favourite form of foreplay isn’t an argument…” “or being a bitch her kink..”

warnings: 18+ MDNI, dubcon(meh), ex bf/gf trope, toxic behaviour, mutual manipulation, these two are chaotic as fuck, mentions of blood, gagging, degradation, rough sex PIV, hate fucking, spitting, spanking, uhhh i think that covers it. this one is a ride. can you tell this is my fav trope?

"I'm so fucking sick of you.”

"Get well soon, princess."

"Get fucked, Riddle."

Three sentences, three venomous insults that cut the room in half—heavy enough in their intensity to make you want to tear through dungeon walls, splintering stone and mortar with bare hands if it means sparing yourself another second in this blasted room, with him.

Detention at midnight—on a Friday, no fucking less—is unheard of. But leave it to your dickhead ex to make the impossible a reality. His fault, of course. Like always.

Snape had turned a blind eye for months. It was only a matter of time before something had to give. An hour unsupervised was as good as you'll get.

Sulking defeat, you sink back in your chair, rough wood digging into your spine as you eye Mattheo with a glare that could rival a bullet. He looks like hell, and it's infuriating how even in that state he manages to look so nonchalant, so maddeningly unbothered—like even exhaustion makes a home on him and he's comfortable with it. Bags under his eyes, scar cutting across the bridge of his nose, those dark curls falling messily over his forehead, white dress shirt wrinkled and open at the collar.

You roll your eyes, a gesture that feels like your only act of rebellion left.

And he notices. Of course he does.

"You haven't changed a bit," he spits, and you know it's an insult. You scowl as he swipes the blood off his chin with the sleeve of his shirt. "Always a bitch to me over something."

Bitch. The name strikes you, but you won't let him see it, won't let him know that it lands. You've bled too many times at his feet for him to draw blood again tonight.

"Am I not allowed to be pissed off that you dragged us into detention? We should be at the party, Mattheo. We should be anywhere but here." You hear the frustration rising in your voice, like it's boiling up from somewhere deep, somewhere you can't quite reach. It's hard not to let it slip, especially when he looks at you like that. "This is so fucking typical of you. You mess up, and somehow I'm the one who pays for it."

For a moment, there's silence, and it almost feels like a victory until you realize he's only biding his time, waiting to strike back.

"You really want to get back there? To that party?" He leans forward, elbows resting on his knees. You long for the chair to break from under him. "After what your new man was caught doing with Lovegood?"

You snort before you can stop yourself, the sound slipping out like a reflex. You hadn't expected that. And quite frankly, it's amusing—no, downright hilarious—that he's clearly been keeping tabs on you and "new man", and now here he is, trying to play it off like he doesn't care. Like it's nothing.

"I'll spare you the insults this once," you mutter, fingers loosening the tie around your neck with a tug. "Because, clearly, you're ignorant to the truth, even if you think you know every goddamn thing." You pause, ripping out your earrings. "He's not my man, so I don't give a shit what he does with who. He ended it last week. Good fuck, sure—but other than that..."

You trail off, making a mocking noise with your lips, a derisive puff of air, as if you could blow away the memory of him as easily as dust off an old book. A Ravenclaw. Brilliant in all the wrong ways—sharp mind, yes, but utterly thrill-less, like he saw you as just another page to flip through, a textbook he was annotating.

It is what it is.

A moment passes and then Mattheo grins—slow at first, but spreading across his face like fire, destructive in its consummation. It unsettles you. He looks more intrigued than he's been in months.

"A good fuck, huh?"

"That's what I said," you reply, clipped, your tone offering no room for him to crawl inside.

"And why didn't it work out? Too good for you?" He says, twisting the knife just because he can. "Too clean, maybe?"

Your eyes scan the room, searching for something within reach to throw at him, anything to break this unbearable tension. Insufferable. Every inch of him, insufferable.

You find nothing, so you throw words instead. "You're an asshole, you know that?"

He nods, as if that's the truest thing either of you have said all night. Of course he knows.

You barely suppress a dry laugh at his idiocy. "Like I told you—he ended it. If you're so fucking interested in why it didn't work out, then why don't you go ask him?"

There's a pause—he's chewing the inside of his cheek as he stares at you. You imagine chewing his head off as you stare at him.

"I'm sure you gave that bookworm the ride of his life," he says, voice half-dry, half-sarcastic, as if he's already bored of the conversation. As if he knew all of this information already. "Everyone knew that was temporary. Your first rebound, congrats."

And just like that, your blood is boiling. He knows how to needle you, how to get under your skin with the slightest flick of his stupid fucking tongue. Your eyes trace the cold stone of the dungeon walls, desperately trying to find something—anything—to distract yourself.

But it's no use. Mattheo's an asshole. He's always been an asshole. That's why you left. All the two of you did was fight and fuck, a chaotic spiral that was as thrilling as it was destructive. Now, he's easily your enemy—dragging you into his messes, never letting you get too far without ruining your life somehow.

And yet—

If you said you didn't miss the sex sometimes, that'd be a lie. Or at least a half-truth. The kind that slips out when you've had one too many glasses of firewhiskey, the kind you'd regret in the morning.

"What about you, dickhead?" You cut through the silence, ignoring his obvious attempt to rile you up. "That Hufflepuff you were seeing—why'd I see her all over Theo tonight?"

He answers far too fast. "They're friends."

You snort, disbelieving. "Right."

You rise to your feet, crossing the room to the bookcase as if it's the most natural thing in the world. The books feel safer somehow, less volatile.

"You're bored of her, aren't you?" You don't care to look at him. You can imagine the way his jaw tenses at the question.

The silence is telling. He doesn't answer right away. You know him well enough to understand what that means. Then, finally, he speaks, a half-answer that doesn't really answer the fucking question at all.

"At least her favourite form of foreplay isn't a fucking argument." He stands, slow, pushing his hair back from his forehead with one battered hand. You glance at him, pulse quickening. "Or being a bitch her kink."

"Does she even have kinks?" It slips out, a knife thrown without aiming. "Sounds like you're bored, Matty."

You watch as he blinks, his eyes darken. That nickname—you know you don't have the right to say it anymore, and that's exactly why you do. It's an insult wrapped in familiarity, and it hits its mark by the way his shoulders tense, jaw tight.

He steps toward you, one calculated step, and you feel it—that chaotic pull, the gravity that's always drawn you both in, no matter how far you try to stay away. A smile pulls at your lips, a cruel thing.

"How cute." He tilts his head just enough to inspect you, eyes dragging over you like he's searching for something to confirm what he already suspects. "Looks like you're jealous."

Your hand grips the bookshelf, eyes locked on him over your shoulder. Jealous? There's not a soul on this planet who could make you jealous. She may be the hero of this story, the girl that gets the guy, might even be everything you're not—

"Looks like you're learning the hard way," you're inspecting him now, too. Every piece of him you once touched. "When it comes too easy it's never gonna' hit as hard, babe."

Another pause from him—something dancing in his eyes. Anger? Maybe. Or something more, something twisted that you don't care to name. You've already lit the match, and now you're just watching him burn.

"You're so clever, huh? So full of advice," he sneers, ripping off his tie and chucking it on a desk. "Go on then, tell me more about how I feel, professor. Since you know everything about me."

You can't help the smirk that curls on your lips. Oh, he's pissed. And that means you're winning.

"What? You don't like hearing the truth? Too much for your delicate ego?" You take a step toward him, savouring every second of this. He hurt you, over and over, the scars from those days still fresh, still bleeding beneath your skin. This has been a long time coming. "You think I care about your new girl, Matty? The one you let your boys fawn over in the common room?...she kissed Theo tonight." You pause, letting that linger. "You think you're doing something, but I see right through you. You don't give a fuck about her. If you did, no one would dare touch her like that. So don't sit here, accusing me of jealousy, like I'm the one hung up on you. You're projecting. And it's pathetic."

He doesn't waste a goddamn beat—his laugh is bitter, sickeningly so—and he advances again, his shadow moving behind him, the space between you now barely there.

"That's amazing, truly. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were a goddamn oracle. All-knowing, all-seeing." His voice is infuriating. The look on his face more-so. "What's your verdict then, my lord? You think this is all an act? That everything I'm doing is just to spite you?"

Your heart races, breath catching in your throat as he steps closer. This is a dance you both know too well, the kind where neither of you win.

"I know how you operate." Your chest heaves, anger rising with every breath. "It's all a game to you, Matt. A sick, twisted game to keep yourself entertained."

"That's rich, coming from someone who played it just as well." He takes another step forward. You could reach out and touch him now he's that close. His grin grows. "Too bad your Ravenclaw figured it out before you could sink your teeth in too deep. Next time you see him, make sure to tell him I said you're welcome."

Your brows pinch—the blood in your veins screeching to a halt, backing up like New York traffic at a standstill. You feel it, hot and furious, rushing toward a place it can't go, clogged behind the wall of rage building up inside you—

"You're welcome?" You spit, a sharp snarl caught between clenched teeth. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

He's watching you, his eyes darting over your shoulder, fingers brushing over his lips like he's trying to dull that familiar smirk, that cruel little game he's always played.

Your stomach sinks, drops to your feet.

"Mattheo—" you snap, cutting him off just as he opens his mouth, before he can throw another snide word. "Spare me the cryptic bullshit for once in your life—“

His eyebrows lift at that, but there's a nod, a hint of something deeper in it. You taste the smugness in the air between you, can almost feel it slithering through his silence.

"Looks like you don't know everything after all. Isn't that ironic?" He straightens up, letting the moment breathe before his face hardens into something almost serious. "Your rebound came to me in the courtyard about two weeks ago. Had some questions about you."

"What?" Your nerves are vibrating, every cell in your body on edge. Your blood is so clogged, you swear you're seeing red. "What questions?"

"The usual sort of normal stuff. Your birthday. Your favorite colour. Childhood traumas. Our downfall. You know."

The casualty in the way he says it makes you sick, bile rising in your throat, a bitter burn at the back of your mouth. It's all starting to come together now. This stupid motherfucker—

"You're lying." The words feel weak, frail. He wouldn't—no, he couldn't. "You're fucking lying."

"Am I?" His fingers brush your cheek, but your skin's gone numb, your blood too frozen to feel anything but the cold burn of your fury. "Or, is the truth just…too much for your delicate ego to handle?"

Oh, fuck off—

Your wand is in your hand before you even realize you've grabbed it, instinct, pure reflex. There's barely a second of rational thought before you're casting, the spell hitting him square in the chest, sending him flying back into the chair he once sat in. His eyes flash, anger igniting there, and he scrambles for his wand—but you're faster.

"Expelliarmus."

One word and you're across the room before you even know you've moved, chest tight as you slam the tip of your wand against his throat. There's a cut on his lip, blood trickling down his chin for a second time tonight, but that stupid fucking smirk is still there, showcasing rubies for teeth and carved into his face like it belongs.

"Tell me what you did." Your voice cracks, but not from fear—it's fury, burgling through you, burning hot enough to make your whole body shake. You half want to cut him open just to bury your rage inside him, let him feel it. "If what you're saying is true, he ended things just days later. Tell me what the fuck you said to him."

Mattheo’s leaning back, hands raised in mock surrender, eyes glinting with the same smug amusement that's always haunted him. He's daring you, taunting you. He knows you never cared about that guy, not really.

You both know it. He was boring, easy.

This—this is something else.

His tongue swipes at the blood on his lip. "He didn't tell you—"

"Don't." Your wand digs deeper into his skin, cutting off whatever he was about to say. The pressure makes his breath hitch, but not enough. Not nearly enough. "I said tell me."

"Merlin—okay—I told him nothing, nothing really," his voice makes your grip tighten on your wand. He stares at you for a long, hard minute before he adds; "except that he should show me some fucking gratitude."

Your jaw slips, confusion rushing in like a flood. But before you can even question him—

"I told him he should be thanking me." Another pause. "When he's fucking you."

He laps at the blood seeping from the cut on his lip for the second time in only a minute and you barely notice the movement—the words hit you like a brick, but it's deeper than that, something visceral that crawls under your skin and settles in your bones. It's sharp, raw, cutting through the wall of rage so fast it leaves you breathless. You don't know how to explain it, this feeling that twists through you, something far too complicated to be named.

And then, you become aware of everything at once.

His legs, spread wide on either side of yours, the space between you so small, your chest just close enough to his face that his breath feels like it's fogging your skin. You're towering over him, wand pressed hard into his throat, your heart hammering in your chest like you're ready to ruin him—but his eyes, the way he looks up at you, says he'd let you.

"I may have even added that although you're with him, you'll always think of me. Both you and him know it’s true.“ That stupid smirk is gone, replaced with something you've never quite seen before. He pauses, before he continues. "You miss it. Us." Another pause. There’s something victorious in his tone, something that's almost breaking you. "And no matter how many times you try to forget, you never do, do you?"

Salazar save you—you should hex him. You should fucking hex him. Every nerve in your body is screaming for it, begging for it, but you can't. You can't fucking move. Your wand is still pressed to his skin, but it feels like you're the one pinned down.

"Shut up," you finally manage, but your voice is meek, thin, nothing like the fury you want to feel. "You...you're being—"

"I'll shut up," his hand finds your wrist, pressing your wand tip against his neck with more force—enough to make himself wince. "If you make me."

You blink, stunned, and you can feel your anger slipping, slipping faster than you can catch it. You don't know what's happening to you—it’s just him—his sick twisted insanity that disarms you. Time and time again. An endless fucking cycle.

"I could ruin you," you whisper, but it sounds more like you're trying to convince yourself than him. You press the wand deeper, just enough to draw a grunt from him, but the look on his face—he's not afraid. No, he's enjoying it. "I have more reasons than most to leave you here bloodied for Snape to find in the morning."

You say the words but the conviction is gone, swept away in the flood of heat between you—the dizzying proximity, the way his lips curl, almost smiling but not quite—

"What are you so afraid of?" He whispers, and there's something fragile in his voice now. "That you might actually want this?"

"I don't want this." You force the words out immediately, hoping they will make it real. Hoping they'll stop this spiral. "I regret ever wanting this."

He’s silent for a moment as he lowers his hands, dark eyes falling to trace your lips—

"I know you hate me, the feelings mutual...but I know. I know I'll always be your favourite regret," those chocolate curls shift, his head tilts closer, too close. Not close enough. "You're still my weapon of choosing."

Merlin. Merlin bloody forgive you—

"…to hurt yourself with?” It's half a question, but you already know the answer.

He nods, and that does it.

Your lips are on his, fast and hard and bruising—and the reaction is immediate, visceral. All that backed-up blood—all that rage frozen in your veins rushes forward in a single, scorching wave. It crashes low, between your thighs, a heat so sharp it aches. The shame comes with it. So does the disgust. A sick knot of self-hatred pulsing through you as you taste his blood on your tongue while his hands are under your skirt, grabbing you like he owns you, pulling you into him. It's only a moment before your wand clatters to the ground, and your hands are tangled in his hair, yanking hard, hard enough to hurt.

You want it to hurt. God, you want it to hurt.

He growls at the sting on his scalp—and then, everything flips.

His fingers tug at something, and you realize it's his own wand, the one you tucked into the back of your skirt—and before you can even think, he's got it, casting a spell that sends you flying back onto the desk behind you. You groan—the world spins, but you don't even have a second to gather yourself before he's advancing toward you, casting another spell on his tie.

Within seconds it's slithering across your lips and tying itself around your head, gagging you.

He steps between your legs, parts them with the ease of someone who's done it a thousand times before—rough hands gliding up your thighs, eyes wild. His fingers slip beneath your underwear, through your slit, and you try to hold on to any shred of control, but it's gone. You can feel it. The way you forget everything except the way he leans down, breath hot in your ear.

"Look how fucking wet you are," he spits through a sneering grin. "You're goddamn shameless, aren't you?"

You roll your eyes, but your thoughts scatter the moment his fingers shove inside you, curling hard—so hard you gasp into the tie, your back arching violently off the desk.

"He ever get you this wet?" His voice is like gravel, each word grinding into your bones. "Nod your head if he did."

Your body reacts before your mind does, arching against him, but you don't move your head. As much as it hurts your pride to give him that win. You dig your fingers into his hair and pull—hard enough to make him grunt, hard enough to hurt.

His hand comes down hard on your thigh in response, a sharp smack that stings, a warning. You squeal, and his fingers start pumping faster, deeper.

He huffs. "That's what I thought."

His fingers make quick work of you, relentless, and his thumb presses to your clit, rolling circles in a rhythm that has your blood on fire, shame licking at the edges of your vision, but it only makes you burn hotter. This is all wrong. Everything about this is wrong, something you'll regret with every fiber of your being tomorrow, but right now, it's an ache you need.

It's the wound you keep reopening, the pain you crave because it's the only thing that ever feels real.

"Fuck, you're close, aren't you?" He sounds almost shocked, like he can't believe how easily your body betrays you, but you feel it too, the disbelief crashing through you as fast as the pleasure does. Too fast. Far too fast. "Did he ever make you cum? Huh? When's the last time you fucking came?"

You can't answer, just groan, yanking at his hair again. His response is immediate, another stinging slap to your inner thigh, sharp enough to make fluid prick your eyes. Your orgasm is right there, teetering on the edge, ready to tip over—but then he slows his pace, dragging it out, torturing you.

You whine. A pitiful, desperate sound you hate yourself for.

"Look at me." His voice cuts through the haze, and begrudgingly, you do. "He didn't make you cum, did he?"

Your face burns, not from his breath or his fingers or even the astronomical amount of shame you feel—but from the truth of it. You shake your head.

"How long?" His voice shatters the air between you. "A week?"

You shake your head again, biting into the fabric of his tie as his fingers curl deeper inside you.

"Two weeks?"

Another shake. He curses under his breath.

"You poor little thing." His words are venom, but the second they spill from his lips, he pumps his fingers into you again, massaging at your walls, and your vision goes white. "Can't even cum without me."

You would've slapped him if you could, would've torn him apart, but the orgasm hits you like a freight train, ripping through you with violent force. You clench around his digits, thighs trembling as you ride the wave of pleasure, convulsing, moaning into the tie as he watches you like he's won.

"So fucking easy." He withdraws his fingers, and immediately, his hands go to his belt. "We'll make up for lost time."

Everything about this feels like a rerun. The same scene playing out on loop, again and again—a cycle of self-destruction you know too well, like running headfirst into a burning building, certain you can handle the smoke only to choke on it.

He's taking off his belt, ready to fuck you stupid, and by morning you'll be back to the same familiar hatred, tearing each other apart in new, inventive ways. Your hands move sluggishly to rip the tie from your mouth, but you're slow, too slow, still dizzy from the release that blindsided you, one that you haven't felt in so long—the fabric barely grazes your fingers before Mattheo catches your wrists, yanking them back, dragging you to your feet in one rough motion.

The spin disorients you—arms pinned behind your back, his cock sliding between your thighs.

"You've done enough talking today," he hisses at your ear as he drags along your slit. "You want this, don't you?"

Your mind screams for you to shake your head, to end this here and now. You know he'd stop—he's an asshole, but not that kind of an asshole. You know it. You almost do it, almost say the word that would shatter this madness. But then he drags his tip against your clit and you moan before you can stop yourself.

Your head nods with a wanton moan, and it's so full of shame your eyes sting with tears.

"Yeah, I know, baby." He's taunting you, every syllable smug, condescending. "This pussy missed me so much, huh?" His hand tightens on your wrists until your skin burns, the other hand finding its way around your thigh, pulling you closer to him. "Fuckin' lost without me. S'all it's good for, isn't it? Taking my cock."

You groan, shaking your head in defiance, but even that feels like a lie. You hate him. You want him. You hate yourself for wanting him.

"No?" His fingers inch toward your clit, ghosting over it—you squeal, hips jerking for more. "Maybe we should call this off then?"

You blink once and his fingers are gone—wrenching a whine out of you, pathetic as you push your ass back against him, shame burning through you as you shake your head. Fuck him. Curse him. But you need him inside you, need him to fill the aching void that gnaws at you.

"That's my slut," he growls, and before you can process the words, he's inside you—one long, brutal thrust that spears you open, the stretch burning deep. The sting mixes with shock of his fingers returning to your clit, rubbing circles that make your knees buckle. "You know you're the only girl I've fucked raw? This pussy will always be mine."

He's fucking insane. Completely insane. And the worst part is, you're just as insane for wanting him. For needing him. You can't fight it. You don't even want to. Not now. Not when his voice drips like poison and he's tearing you apart in the only way you understand.

"Mmmf—" you groan into the tie and he's matching you, his teeth grazing your shoulder, marking you in ways that will last for days.

"I hope it hurts," he grumbles against your skin, his breath ragged. He's lying, you can feel it in the way his fingers are moving, coaxing you to cum, even as he pretends to wish you pain. "I hope it fucking stings."

Your hands ball into fists, trapped in his grip, and you imagine clawing at his back until you draw blood, sinking your nails in until he feels every ounce of your anger.

"I want you to feel it—fuck—I want you to remember this," he pants, his voice barely more than a growl as your climax crashes toward you, unstoppable now. "Remember how weak I make you. How much of a slut you are for me."

Another harsh thrust and then, you're there—falling into the void—pleasure is so strong it bleeds out of you, forcing your cunt to clamp tight around him, legs trembling, barely able to support you through it. Mattheo’s curses slip through clenched teeth, but this only fuels him—his rhythm picks up, brutal, hips slamming against your ass with a pace that borders on unhinged.

"Fuck. Oh, fuck." The words are barely audible, grunted against the shell of your ear. You're whining, still twitching with aftershocks, but he doesn't care. His hands are on your hips now, fingers digging deep as he thrusts you forward, slamming you over the desk. The wood bites into your palms as you try to brace yourself, but his anger is palpable, drilling into you— "you wanna bitch at me now?"

The moan you release is automatic, instinctual. You can't stop it. Can't control it. His fingers curl around your throat, shifting the tie down to shove two into your mouth.

"Hhhhh—" you're trying to form words around his fingers, but it's impossible. The garbled sound is pathetic, but he knows exactly what you're trying to say.

"You hate me. I know." It’s smug, punctuated by a sharp smack to your ass, the sting of it making you yelp. He pulls his fingers from your mouth, wiping the spit across your cheek before he grips your jaw, forcing your head to turn, to meet his eyes. "Open your mouth."

There's no time to process the demand. His eyes are molten, crazed, filled with something raw and uncontainable. His next thrust is punishing, slamming into your cervix, making you sob—your mouth parting just enough—

He leans in close, and then he spits into your mouth.

"Swallow it." His fingers dig into your cheeks, pressing the order into your bones. "Be a good girl for once."

You choke out a laugh, even as you're panting, even as he's splitting you stupid.

"Never." The word barely leaves your lips before you’re spitting back at him—your entwined saliva landing across his chin and lips.

For a second, you expect the worst—you brace yourself for the retaliation—the slap, the insult, the way he'll tighten his grip and take back control. But to your surprise, instead of anger, there's a grin—wide and feral, big and crazed enough to reach his eyes.

You smile back. His cock twitches inside you.

"Fuck me," he mutters, then crashes his mouth to yours.

You taste the salt and bitterness of mingled spit, a mess of his and yours, and it pulls a moan from somewhere deep inside you. He devours it, greedy, his hips growing erratic, sloppy as his high nears.

His hand drops to your clit, fingers pressing with a precision that obliterates every last shred of sanity—and it takes only moments before the pressure builds again, fast and furious. Your third orgasm rips you apart, your body clenching tight, muscles seizing as you're lost in it. You're not sure where you end and he begins—your breath congealing with his, your moans swallowed in the space between you.

His release follows right after, crashing over him as he buries himself deep, spilling into you with a groan that reverberates through your bones. You hate the way it feels. You hate the way he fills you. But you also can't deny the twisted satisfaction of it—the way you sought this punishment, needed it. The shame consumes you, but it's comforting in its familiarity.

He pulls out, and the silence between you is easy, broken only by your ragged breathing. The room feels impossibly small now, your body still thrumming with the aftermath, but the moment is over. You both start to move—piecing yourselves back together, pulling clothes into place, avoiding the weight of what just happened.

You don't understand how it came to this, how it always does, but you're not surprised. Not anymore.

After a long, silent moment, he looks at you. “I don’t regret what I did.”

You know he doesn’t.

“I know.”

He blinks. “I won’t apologize for it.”

You know he won’t.

“I know.”

He nods, now, a smirk on his lips as he watches you fix your skirt. You note the hair sticking to his forehead, how he’s still catching his breath even though he’s pretending he isn’t.

“You aren’t mad.” An observation.

“I’m not.” You reply. You know you should be, but the relief you felt when that Ravenclaw ended things tells you everything you need to know. “Just, never do it again.”

He nods again. “Sure.”

You’re pretty sure he doesn’t mean that—but, at least now, as you glance over at him, there's a small comfort in knowing you no longer want to kill him.

[borathae]

Too Sweet

“You’re too sweet for him, but he can’t get enough of the taste. Even if lately he makes you feel as if he has. Taehyung doesn’t like that you feel this way, showing you that the only drug he ever needs is you.”

Pairing: Gangster!Taehyung x f.Reader

Genre: crime!AU, established relationship!AU, Smut

Warnings: mention of past smoking, mention of murder as well as blood & violence, Dom!Taehyung, sub!Reader, lingerie kink, hand kink, dirty talk, praise, he calls her his slut fondly, he also calls her babygirl and (baby)doll, the title Sir is said like three times, cockwarming in his office chair, desperate sex on top of his office desk, DP of her pussy with his cock & fingers, choking without applying pressure, bondage with his tie, strength kink, multiple orgasms (f.receiving), squirting, he fucks her so good she pees a little jjsjsj, creampie, subby girl tears, he is as gentle with her as he is rough (sexy), smol ownership kink, kinda exhibitionism cause they fuck loudly with his guards outside the doors, hints at female masturbation, allusion to somnophilia, breast play with painless tit spanking, idk if this is warning worthy but he is a little "dismissive" of her feeling neglected by fucking her instead of listening to her, but he apologises healthily in the end and keeps being all "fuck, I misssed you" during sex, cuddles and kisses and praise for aftercare hihi

Wordcount: 5.6k

a/n: this is based on this post and all of you guys' wishes ohoho. it's definitely less on the soft Dom!Tae side because a bitch (me) wrote this during full ovulation bloom and i quite frankly felt like a bitch (dog) in heat ajjajsjs have fun besties 🤎

Taehyung was working late. He is at home for a change and you thought that it would mean you could see him more, but that wasn’t the case. You haven’t seen him at all today, not even in the morning because he locked himself in his office before you woke and during lunch time, he asked one of his men to bring the food to his office. You can’t stand it when he is like this. 

You know that Taehyung was a busy man. If he wasn’t gone, tending to missions or assassinating his targets, he was holed up in his office, allowing no one to come in. No one. Not even you, his woman. 

You normally don’t mind that he is absent, having your own things to do. But it has been days since you last saw him and you are getting needy. Not only for his attention, but also for his touch. You noticed it starting when you woke up all alone – like always these past few days – with thick, warm slick between your legs and a deep pit in your stomach only his cock could fill. You tried to get rid of it, but no matter how you touched yourself, it wasn’t enough. You missed Taehyung. You missed his touch and how he can turn you into puddy between his fingers. He gets off on the power. Taehyung is twisted like that, giving it to you with a taunting smirk on his lips which so very often makes you shudder. Sometimes he also looks at you as if you were his prey, as if you were one of the many fuckers he tortures on a daily. And you get off to it, craving exactly this look tonight.

Taehyung’s world wasn’t normal or on the bright side of the law. Taehyung’s world was as twisted as him, it was filled with drugs, murder and betrayal and reeked of dirty money and expensive alcohol. 

You slithered into it eight years ago with no chance of escaping. It all began when you came home to your younger siblings slaughtered and your belongings missing. Your parents had died years before and as the eldest of four, you took on the role of mother and father for your younger siblings. They were three, six and eleven when they were murdered. You were only twenty. The law didn’t help you. They dismissed it because of too little evidence, called it a case unsolvable and told you to leave when you begged them to continue the search. You met Taehyung in front of the police station. It rained that day and the air smelled of messy endings – or new beginnings, however one might interpret the meeting. He called you to the dark alleyway he was hiding in and offered you a drag of the cigarette he was smoking, which you declined while he took it for you with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders.

“I can find the killers of your family”, he had told you.

“How do you know what happened to them?” you had asked him.

He pointed at the police station, “I know a lot of things in this city. Things these bastards up there could only dream of knowing. I know your name and that someone killed your three siblings. I also know that your parents died two years ago and that their deaths are connected to these murders.”

“Who are you?” you asked him.

“You can call me Vante, my real name isn’t important”, he told you, not knowing that one day he will have you screaming his real name for him each night as he made the messiest love to you.

“Why are you helping me?”

Taehyung took a drag of his cigarette, exhaled it through his nose. He stepped closer, drawing you in with his eyes. Something sick and twisted glimmered in them and you had found yourself gazing at it in awe. 

“Are you taking my help or not? My cigarette is running out and I’m not about to light another one”, he stressed back then, unaware that one day the only drug he will need in his lungs was your air.

Many years have passed since then. The world darkened in these years. Taehyung lost the playful spark he had back then, while you lost the innocence a normal person without criminal ties possessed. You know how a stranger’s blood feels on your hands these days, know how disgusting humans are once they die and their muscles give up and you know the bitter taste of lonely nights when Taehyung stays out longer than planned. 

You can’t take the taste anymore. You crave the sweetness of his kiss, the saccharine traces of his touch and the honey timbre of his voice.

Taehyung is locked up in his office and doesn’t let anyone in, but you can’t take it anymore. You have to see him. 

Two of his men are guarding the door. Their eyes flit to your cleavage but shoot away instantly, their bodies tense as they try not to look again. Looking at you in the wrong way will cost them their eyes. Taehyung would make sure of that. Just as he made sure that the killer of your family got the ending they deserved. You knew that you were twisted when you felt joy and desire as you watched him slaughter them instead of horror and disgust. You remember fucking him, bloodied and dirty, just beside the bodies of your family’s killer while Taehyung moaned into your mouth, drugged out and high on slaughtering. You haven’t been separated since. Except for these last few days. Fuck, you miss him.

“Master Vante wishes not to be distracted”, his guards try to stop you.

“I want to see him.”

“He told us not to let anyone in. Not even you, Mistress.”

You cross your arms in front of your chest.

“Vante!” you call out. 

Moments later the door opens. Taehyung looks at you, then your skimpy outfit, then his guards. 

“You told them to keep me outside?” you ask him, cocking a brow at him.

Taehyung glares at his guards. They avoid eye contact, gawking at the front with pearls of anxious sweat on their foreheads.

“Come in”, Taehyung tells you darkly, stepping out of the doorframe.

With a triumphant bounce in your step, you enter his office. The main lights were off, only his green table lamp was on, tinting the room a mixture of orange and green. 

Taehyung closes the door and locks it, turning to you quickly to grab your wrist.

“What are you thinking?” he hisses.

“I miss you.”

“And that gives you the right to walk around like this in front of my men?” 

You are wearing lingerie and a see-through, short rope. Both blood red in colour. They hug your curves at the best parts and match with the colour of your lipstick. 

“Why? What’s wrong with my outfit?” you act oblivious on purpose, craving the fire in his eyes only you can ignite.

Taehyung furrows his brows. The fire burns deep. You, quite frankly, almost moan because of it. This is exactly the warmth you missed these past cold nights.

“I miss you, Tae. I go to bed alone and wake up just as alone. I miss you so fucking much.”

Taehyung clenches his jaw. He slides his hand from your wrist and steps back.

“I have a lot to do”, he says, retreating back to his desk. 

The distance is cold. Yes, the years took his playfulness, but they never took his affection for you. His distance is cold because it was never there before.

“Did I do something?” you ask him quietly.

Taehyung lifts his eyes from his papers. 

“What makes you think that?”

“You aren’t coming to bed with me anymore.”

“I am. You’re just always sleeping already.”

“You don’t hold me in the morning.”

“I do. You’re just always sleeping still.”

“You lock me out of your office.”

“There’s stuff in here I don’t want you to see.”

“You don’t want to fuck me in this outfit.”

Taehyung purses his lips. 

“You normally always do.”

“I want to do the most sinful things to you, don’t mistake my indifference with lack of desire. If I didn’t have so much shit to do, I’d bend you over this desk and fuck days worth of cum into you.”

You moan with your knees buckling. Taehyung watches it happen, allowing you to know it affects him by loosening his tie a little.

“Did you like that?” he asks – rasps. 

You nod your head, giving him pleading puppy eyes.

“Come here.”

You obey his orders instantly, hurrying to his desk so you could stand in front of him.

Taehyung spreads his legs, leaning back in his chair. It creaks as he does. He runs his hand over his chin, taking you in with fiery eyes. 

“What do you really want?”

“Your touch.”

“Don’t keep stuff from me. Tell me what you want.”

“I want.” You gasp for air. “Oh god, Tae. Don’t make me.”

He darkens his eyes, chewing imaginary gum.

“If you want me to help you, you gotta tell me. You know how deals with me work.”

How could you forget. Making a deal with Taehyung is what brought you here. Letting him find your family’s killer is what made you into the obsessed woman you are today. 

You didn’t have to accept his deal back then, but you did. You took the cigarette and finished it in one inhale, sealing not only your deal with him, but also your fate. 

“I want you to touch me. I’ve been wet since the morning and I can’t stop it.”

His eyes skim over your crotch. His chest rises and sinks in one deep, affected breath.

“Did you try stopping it?”

“Yeah.”

“How?” 

You shy away. Taehyung sits up, hovering his hand over your waist without touching you. It aches not to be touched by him. 

“Don’t be shy now. Tell me how you took care of it.”

“I touched myself”, you whisper.

Taehyung purrs, “you touched yourself. What a bad girl. I can’t remember giving you permission.”

“You haven’t been there for me for days.”

He smiles. The first of the day. It makes your knees weak.

“So it’s my fault?”

“Yes.”

His smile grows. He follows his hand with his eyes as he travels it along your curves. The touch never comes. It drives you insane to have him so close but still be denied the honey warmth of his hands.

“If I knew how fucking needy you were, I’d have fucked you in your sleep.”

You whimper. 

He looks up, meets your eyes in fiery desire.

“I’d have infiltrated your dreams and made you cream my cock before you could even wake up.”

“Please touch me, please”, you beg because you have already reached your breaking point.

He chuckles, chewing gum again.

“I can touch you in lots of ways. Be more specific.”

“Cock. I want cock.”

He leans back in his chair, folding his hands on his stomach nonchalantly. You gawk at them. You crave their touch. Fuck, please.

“Alright”, he says coolly. 

“Really?” you gasp, stumbling because your knees actually gave up on you. Taehyung is on his feet instantly, lifting you onto his desk and holding you between his strong hands. 

“Careful. Are you okay?” he asks, studying your features worriedly.

Despite all the killing he is doing, all the fighting and rough work, his palms are soft. Feeling them on your skin makes you moan. Finally. His touch heals you.

“I want to be fucked so bad”, you beg.

Taehyung chuckles, “shit, you’re gone for.”

“Please”, you open your legs, showing him your wet panties. 

Taehyung licks his lips, gulping heavily. You are soaking the documents under you. Fuck, you haven’t been that wet in ages. Taehyung wants to pump his digits into you, fuck your slickened cunt hard and fast, get his cock creamed. But he holds back. He still has work to do and he knows exactly how to take care of you in a way which still allows him to do what he needs to do. 

“Wrists out.”

You obey his orders.

“From now on, your safeword is Red and your life line is humming our song. Understood?” he tells you as he opens his red tie.

“Yes, Sir”, you whimper, leaking all over his desk.

“Good girl. You’re such a good girl when you listen so well.” He pulls your wrists closer, wrapping the tie around them a few times. 

You are heaving. You can’t handle how much all of this excites you. 

“Too tight?” he makes sure, rubbing your knuckles gently. Each touch he places makes you want to scream. You missed it so much. 

“No, just right.”

“That’s good”, he says and lifts your hands to his lips to kiss your knuckles. Each of them. Without breaking eye contact. You are truly puddy in his hands. “You know why I have to do this, don’t you?”

“I touched myself without your permission.”

“Exactly, bad girl”, he says with a playful spark in his eyes. 

You have to giggle because of it, writhing on his desk. Off of said desk he lifts you moments later. 

He sits back down on his chair and begins unbuckling his slacks. 

“Tae”, you moan, pressing your legs together. Finally. Finally. Finally. 

He opens his belt, his button, his zipper. He slides his hand inside. Seconds later, it reappears with his cock between his fingers. He’s already hard and throbbing, sitting heavy in his touch.

You ogle him, drooling all over yourself.

“What do you want to do to it?” Taehyung orders you.

“Sit on it.”

“What a naughty girl, mhhhm”, he rolls his head back, arches his back as he puts on a show of jerking himself off.

This is to rile you up, to show you what you currently don’t have.

“Please, can I have it?” you beg, fighting your restrains. 

“Mhm, take it.”

“Oh god, oh god.”

You fail to climb on his lap on your own and so Taehyung helps you with a guiding touch. He even pulls your panties aside for you, holding his cock in place as you sink down on him. It squelches wetly. 

Taehyung tenses his thighs for just a second, biting down on his lower lip as a deep purr rumbles in his chest.

You totally lose it, falling against his chest with your tied up hands trying to grab his shirt. Your lips press against his neck. He smells masculine and clean. 

“Taehyung”, your moan is filled with relief and ecstasy. 

“You weren’t lying. You’re so fucking wet.”

You move instantly. Messily and needily. You move. Move. Get stopped. 

With both hands dimpling your hips, Taehyung is keeping you still. He ignores your pleading whimpers and your distressed gasps. Instead he rolls closer to his desk and straightens up, picking up his pen.

“That’s perfect. Keep my cock warm like this”, he says nonchalantly.

“Wh-what?” you are out of breath, close to tears. You want cock so bad and you finally have it, but he is denying you to move? Does he want to make you cry? You can’t get any more desperate and yet he wants to prove you wrong. 

You lift your head from his neck. Taehyung glances at you.  

“You didn’t think that I’d allow you to move after the stunt you pulled, did you?” he taunts, chewing gum again.

“What stunt?”

He stops chewing, lowering his eyes darkly.

“When you showed yourself like this in front of my men. When you touched yourself without my permission. When you barged into my office and accused me of neglecting you.”

“You have been neglecting me.”

“Careful”, he warns, bucking his hips up.

You moan, rolling your eyes back as your body wobbles in defeat.

Taehyung pulls you closer, keeping you steady that way. He fucks into you again, gritting his teeth while you whimper like a happy slut. Your cunt is so fucking puffy, sucking in his cock greedily. Every voice in his head is telling Taehyung to drop his work and fuck you senseless. But he can’t. He has a point to prove.

“I’m allowing you to be in my office and to sit on my cock, but anymore backtalk and I’ll gag you”, he warns even if talking is hard.

You spill tears.

“Please more.”

He wipes your tears, caressing your chin afterwards.

“Patience, I still have to work”, he tells you and looks back at the papers.

“Oh god, please”, you plead, hiding back in his neck. You want to move, but you can’t because he is keeping an iron grip on your hips. All you can do is sit on his lap with his girthy cock deep inside you. And you can’t even run your hands over him. You wiggle them in their restraints, begging against his neck.

“Please Tae, please.”

“Patience. It’s only been half a minute.”

It felt like three hours. You need him pumping into you. Warming his cock isn’t enough. 

Time passes. You don’t know how much, but it’s too much for you. All you can concentrate on is his cock. He is so hard inside you. So big and girthy. You were never so aware of being filled than you are currently. You can feel every inch sitting inside you and how he is stretching you out. The pit in your stomach is shrinking but it’s still there because you aren’t allowed to move. You clench your pelvic muscles. Electricity runs through you. This helped. When you tense up, you can feel him press against your sensitive spots. 

Dumb in desperation, you start chasing the sensation. You clench, relax, clench, relax. Over and over. It feels so good. You finally have what you had craved for days. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Taehyung soon breaks the silence, reminding you that he could feel as well. 

You tense up, feeling dizzy. You forgot that it’s noticeable to him when you clench down. 

“Mhm? What are you doing?” he stresses, digging his thumb into your softness. 

“It hurts.” His touch loosens, but tightens again when you continue whining. “It’s not enough, please let me move.” 

Taehyung takes a deep breath, keeps it in for a moment and exhales it in time with his big hand sliding to the small of your back. 

He gives it a small push, moving you like this. You shudder instantly, leaking on his cock. He moves you again and you pick up on it instantly, meeting his movements needily. 

“Nuh-uh.” He slows you down with just one touch. “Like this. Understood?”

“Yeah”, you whimper, obeying his orders.

“Good girl, such a good girl”, he praises and shifts his attention back to work.

So now he’s got you grinding down on his cock. He is glad that he is sitting because it turns his legs weak. He missed your warmth like nothing else. Concentrating on his work is definitely becoming difficult but he is stubborn. He needs to keep cool a little longer. 

You are in a state of ecstasy, panting and drooling against his neck as you finally have what you craved. You have his cock moving inside you. Now granted, the movements are just small grinds back and forth, but it’s like a drug to you. He shifts deep inside you, prods at your puffy walls and swollen good spots and the folds of his slacks are rubbing against your clit. You have his big hand on your back, rubbing circles into your thinly dressed skin. Everything is just perfect. Taehyung might think he is giving you a punishment with such little movements, but you are in fucking heaven. This is exactly what you needed. 

Taehyung doesn’t realise the gravity of his mistake up until the point you suddenly tense up and squeak his name. But by then it is already too late. He has you throbbing around him seconds later as you orgasm as if you never had before.

You whimper, trying so hard not to shake and tremble, but Taehyung can feel it nonetheless. It’s squeezing his cock. 

“You fucking-”, Taehyung growls, throwing his pen aside. His composure is broken. He stands up with you and swipes his desk clean just so he can lie you down on it. He takes your hands and pins then above your head, staring down at you with crazed eyes and gritted teeth. “You’re such a fucking temptress. How dare you cum like that.”

You are barely present after your high, writhing and twitching on the desk. He thrusts his hips. Consciousness returns. The sensitive, fucked state of you is obvious again. 

You squeak his name and arch your back as your eyes finally meet his’. His pupils are blown out, he has a sense of craze in his face. 

“I should tie a vibrator to you and leave you shaking by my feet for what you’re doing to me”, he spits as he finally drills his cock into you. Hard and rough. The desk shakes because of it. Your body does as well. “I have work to do and you’re messing with my schedule. I should punish you, but fuck”, he buries himself as deep as possible and write his name against your walls, “you fucked me up. Just wanna pound into you”, he laughs lazily, following it up with a lulled “fuuck.”

“Harder please”, you beg, riding on the high with your head turning. 

Taehyung fulfills your wish with a growl. His fingers dig into the softness of your thighs so he can keep you in place as he fucks you into a state of senseless on his desk. You answer his guttural growls with high pitched wails of gratefulness. You finally have what you needed. You have his entire attention. And it feels so fucking good. 

It is finally obvious to you how much Taehyung missed you too. He only fucks like that when he hasn’t been with you for a while. He only grips you with such strength when his fingers hadn’t felt your softness in ages. He is only so out of breath when your air hasn’t filled his addicted lungs for some time. 

“I missed you”, he gets out. 

You meet his eyes. Tears escape you easily. He slows down and leans over you to wipe them gently. A moment of tenderness in the passion. A moment to remind you that he loves no person as much and as deeply as he loves you.

“I missed you so fucking much”, he rasps and slides his hand to your neck to rest on it. No pressure. Just contact. His hips pick up speed, claiming you as his’ in more ways than one. 

And you roll your eyes back without closing them, melting into the desk as he rearranges your insides. The pit is finally being filled. The fire is finally burning you again. You are so happy, moaning his name as loudly as possible. 

“Yes baby, moan for me. It turns me on. Moan for me.”

His guards just right outside the door are non-existent to you and him right now. The fact that they most definitely can hear you, hasn’t sunk in yet. You and Taehyung are lost in passion. You have to pick up on days of absence, you have to fuck until the desperation is finally gone from your systems. Fuck, you need each other so fucking bad. 

“You feel so good, my good girl. Love filling you with my cock. So good, fuck so good. You’re taking me like such a good girl”, Taehyung is babbling. He always gets like this when the sex just hits right. He loses control over his tongue and begins spitting whatever dirty thoughts run through his foggy mind. “My good girl, my fucking slut. Look at you. Fuck.”

His right hand cups your tits, playing with them roughly. The touch is heaven. Even through the material of your lingerie you can feel it.

“Taehyung”, you wail, arching into his touch.

“I hate that you thought I don’t wanna fuck you in this. Shit, I want you like fucking crazy”, he moans and gives your tits a gentle spank. Just hard enough that they jiggle for a moment, but still gentle enough that no pain shoots over your skin. 

You still sob and mewl for him, writhing on the desk like a woman brought to her limits. And you are. He is bringing you to your limits, pushing you right past them because he is twisted like that.

“Fuck, you’re cumming again?” he slows down.

“Don’t stop please. Faster!”

And you enjoy every second of it because you are just as twisted. It burns so deep when he is rough during your orgasm and you need it to continue burning.

“Urgh fine”, he is tensing his jaw, furrowing his brows, “you’re so tight. Your pussy’s sucking me off. Shit, ah- babygirl ahm mhh urgh.”

Taehyung wants to crumble on the floor. Every inch of his body is electric. You have him so high. And it doesn’t stop. His cock is throbbing. He swears he hasn’t been that hard in ages. He might actually pass out from how much blood is shooting to his dick. But he’s got a deal to fulfil. He promised you relief and Taehyung isn’t going to disappoint. He isn’t the type to break deals. No matter how much they ruin him. And you are ruining him like nothing else. 

You are so tight after your high, so wet that it is difficult for his cock not to slip out. It’s squelching out of you, messing up not only your connected bodies but his desk as well.

“You’ll be the death of me”, he gets out.

“More.”

“More?” he squeaks out, following it up with a disbelieved laugh, “how much hotter do you wanna be burn?”

“Until I’m reduced to piles of ash”, you croak and grab his wrist with your tied hands. You guide it to your middle. 

Taehyung picks up on your silent message instantly, rubbing circles into your puffy clit. 

“No”, you mewl, “stick them in, please.”

Taehyung growls needily. He gets a little dumb in pleasure when you reach the point where you beg for what you want without shame. He is so obsessed with you it’s crazy. 

Taehyung slows down to make it easier and slips one of his fingers into your cunt. The tightness makes both of you gasp.

“I’m going insane, fuck”, Taehyung croaks, staring at the pretty view obsessively. His huge cock inside you, his finger right beside it, your puffy lips moving around him and your red lace panties stretching against his shaft. “You’re so stuffed with me. Does it feel good to you?” 

“Another.”

“Shit, you’re actually killing me.”

His second digit fills you just as easily, pressing against your swollen g-spot. You whimper and squirm, tensing around him. He glances at your face. It is scrunched up, skin glistening in a layer of sweat and pleasurable tears.

“Too much?” he makes sure.

“No, perfect. Please move”, you squeak out.

Taehyung huffs out air, giving you exactly what you ask of him. The friction is unbearable, the pressure around his cock is making his knees shake but he keeps moving. You are moaning so prettily for him, stretching your tied up arms above your head as if you wanted to reach for the stars he is making you see. 

“My perfect woman. Urgh my…pretty….slut….my princess, urgh…is this what you…wanted?” 

“Yes, yes, yes”, you squeal and keen, glowing in happiness.

“So beautiful, I’m going insane”, he moans and wraps his unoccupied hand around your neck again. No pressure, just warmth. He doesn’t have to squeeze down to let you know that you belong to him. Not that you need a reminder. You belong to him willingly. 

It was over for you the moment your eyes locked. You had been his’ ever since you shared this fateful cigarette in the dark alleyway while the rain poured down on you. You are his’. No amount of distance will ever change this. 

His hand around your throat is nothing but a warm reminder that he feels the same. His palms are soft, his heavy rings are hard and warmed up from his body heat. The touch is so tender, contradicting to what his other hand was currently doing to you. He is curling his long fingers as best as your tight walls allow him to, matching the rhythm with that of his eager hips. You stopped moaning because you lost the connection to your voice. Breathe. You have to concentrate on breathing otherwise you might pass out. 

“Fuck, I can feel you clenching again. My good girl, taking me so well and looking so pretty doing it. Shit, my slut, fuck sorry I meant my pretty girl. Urgh baby, are you cumming again?”

You give him a small, fragile squeak then break on his digits and cock. You squirt all over him within seconds, screaming his name because it is all you can do. 

“Yes fuck.” He abandons your neck and presses down on your stomach to the point where you can’t tell whether he is still making you squirt or you are already pissing yourself. You don’t mind, riding the feeling with messy tears and a snotty nose. His documents and clothes are ruined, but you can’t stop. 

“Give me everything, that’s my good babygirl. I love it when you fucking wet yourself like that. Shit, I can’t do this for long anymore. Getting sensitive, mh-hm.”

“Please cum inside.”

His hips falter.

“Please, please, ah! Please!” you beg him, making up for the loss of movement by wiggling your hips until he finally picks up his rough pace again.

Taehyung leans down, pinning you against the desk with his bigger frame. He slips his fingers free from your tight cunt, so he can wrap his arm around you. His left hand closes around your throat, his lips are pressed to your ear as he talks dirty to you.

“I’m gonna cum so good for you, doll. I saved up so much for you. Gonna fill you up with all of it until you’re dripping.”

“Please, please, please”, you beg with tears in your eyes.

“Yeah? You want this cum?”

“Yes please, yes please.”

“Shit babygirl, urgh”, Taehyung growls through gritted teeth, squeezing down on your neck as he empties his heavy balls into your cunt. 

You can feel it shoot out of him and cover your walls to the point where you can’t keep it inside anymore. It drips onto the floor, messing up his cock and balls.

“Take my cum. Fuck, such a good girl. You’re made for my cum, urgh fuck”, Taehyung talks himself through it, holding you against him in his strong, protective arm. And you wail his name, wishing for his sticky cum to stay inside forever. 

He slacks against you after his high, dropping with a whimper of your name. 

“What the fuck, woah”, he gets out, trembling in the aftershocks. “Are you okay?”

“Yes”, you get out weakly.

“I kid you not. Fuck”, he exhales deeply. “Put your arms around me.” 

You obey his orders, mewling weakly when he lifts you off the desk and sits you down on him as he sinks into the chair in defeat. His cum oozes out and squelches everywhere, but it’s only a little amount compared to how much was still inside you.

He slacks against the chair, gazing up at you with half lidded eyes. Sweat makes his hair stick to his forehead. He unties your hands.

“Do they hurt?”

“No”, you assure him, touching him instantly. He feels so strong and warm under your hands. His heart is racing so much. You needed this reminder. The reminder that you can still raise his pulse.

Taehyung closes his eyes halfway. “I love you”, he lulls, following it up with a smile.

“I love you too”, you whisper, lowering your eyes just sadly enough that he worries.

He furrows his brows, tilting your head up with two fingers under your chin.

“What’s the matter? Did I hurt you?”

You shake your head.

“Talk to me.”

“Can I be kissed?”

His features soften.

“You’re so cute. Of course you can. Come here, babydoll”, he says and slides his big hand to the nape of your neck to guide you into a kiss. 

You melt into it with a fluttering heart and no thought in your brain except the repeated cheers about how much you love him. You roll your hips down into him. He tenses up, breaking the kiss with a whiney chuckle.

“What are you doing?” 

“Please don’t go back to working, please I don’t wanna be alone anymore.”

“I won’t work, just…” He arches his back. “Give me time to recover, ah too sensitive.”

“Please Tae”, you beg, grinding down on him despite his begs.

“Fuck, did I really neglect you that much that you can’t be satisfied no matter what I do?” he groans.

“Yes”, you get out and pull him into a kiss.

“I’m sorry. Shit, gotta make it up to you then”, he mumbles between kisses, hugging you against him as you giggle into the kisses. “Come here you adorable temptress you.”

“Ah Tae. Wait. That tickles”, you squeak in laughter as you and he lose yourselves in a tingly, passionate dance of grinding, kisses and love bites.

[wonysugar]

fuck you stupid | ning yizhuo

synopsis : you thought you’d seen it all with her, but no, she somehow managed to surprise you even further.

pairing : bimbo!ningning x fem!reader

genre : bffs to... fwb?? idk they just fuck,, so obviously smut too! xx

tags : yall got lost help, fingering, degradation, belittling, dumbification, car sex, she's so stupid but she fucks you good so it's okay, very slight cunnilingus, she slaps you like once so impact play!

warnings : none!

word count : 1.6k

you, y/n l/n, weren’t exactly smart, but you also weren’t exactly stupid. like yeah, you weren’t a genius per se, but it’s not like you were brain dead either. average was the term you always used to describe your intelligence.

you unfortunately couldn’t say the same about ning yizhuo, your best friend. 

you loved her, like that’s your bitch, of course you love her! however, you’d be lying if you said that she was intellectually capable, because she just wasn’t. god, she was just so, so painfully stupid?? clumsy??? careless???? all of the above applied when it came to this woman. not even to be mean or anything of the sorts, just, yknow… natural selection at its finest.

she was aware of that, though, and even thrived in being the self proclaimed bimbo everyone knew and loved. (to which you wholeheartedly agree with, by the way) and honestly? you just couldn’t stop teasing her about it whenever you two hung out. things similar to “stupid hoe” and “dumbass” always escaping your mouth as you two laughed, probably moments after she bumped onto something on the sidewalk whilst spilling all the tea to you. 

in summary, she’s done stupid shit before, but nothing, nothing could ever top what she had done that day.

the day she got the both of you lost in some random parking lot at like, 2 am.

“ning, we’re fucking lost.” you told her, eyebrows furrowed in frustration as you watched her giggle nervously.

she grabbed her cellphone and hovered her finger over the power button, “oh come on y/n don’t be like that, i can just go on google maps and we’ll be out of here in no ti-“

a black screen.

she cleared her throat hesitantly, sighed, then pressed the button again.

nothing.

she kept doing that, giving longer presses to the side of her phone in hopes of a miracle . your patience was running thin and you were quite frankly not far from panicking.

after the 27th-ish try, you finally snapped at her.

“fucking hell ning do you not charge your damn phone??” 

“sorry that i forgot to?” 

oh she had to be joking. 

“girl oh my god what the fuck?? we’ll stay stuck here for only god knows how long and it’s all gonna be because ‘ning yizhuo forgot to charge her phone beforehand’ for fuck’s sake.” you closed your eyes and pinched the bridge of your nose in exasperation. trying to calm down, you ignored ning’s gaze.

her stupid annoying yapping wasn’t helping at all. like, at all.

“oh so we’re once again blaming me, got it. y/n you didn’t even bring your own phone, how do you have the audacity to put the blame on me.” she said back, her eyebrow raised up as she threw her phone down on her skirt, sighing exasperatedly. 

“because someone told me it was her turn to get the aux.”

“where in that sentence did i ever tell you not to bring your phone??”

“god, ning just- just stay quiet. okay? just- please shut up, i’m trying to think. we can’t rely on you for anything.” you told her, exasperated.

in response, she scoffed, “no?? no i won’t, actually. you’re always putting the blame on me and it’s seriously starting to piss me the fuck off. yeah i’m a bimbo, whatever, but does that mean that you have to talk to me like i only have two barely functioning brain cells??” 

“oh please, saying you have two functioning brain cells would be wayy too generous. you’re always doing the stupidest shit out of the two of us. i mean fuck, you literally drove us here, in the middle of nowhere. you’re not a bimbo, you’re just fucking dumb, ning.”

when you looked back at her, she seemed hurt. like, 

a wave of guilt quickly washed over you upon seeing her pained, pained expression. she looked into your eyes, frustration and sadness clearly showing into her own. yeah, she looked pissed. you wanted to apologize almost immediately, and you were going to, 

if she didn’t suddenly press her lips onto yours before you could even get a word out. 

-

how do best friends make up after a fight?

usually, they talk it out, they go out, hug it out then get milkshakes or whatever, hell, sometimes they just go a day or two without talking then eventually forget about it.

this? this was none of that.

since she planted a kiss on your lips, you, instead of doing anything stated above, were fucking.

like, yeahh you were still lost, but at least you were getting your pussy ravaged. the situation could be handled later; when you weren’t drenched.

throwing your head back as you moaned out ning’s name, you were straddling her in the backseat of her car, feeling her two fingers deep inside you and stretching you out. she looked up at you with lustfully hooded eyes as she kissed and left very visible marks all over your neck, all the way down to your collarbone, her free hand fondling your tits, lazily playing with the nipple. 

“f-fuck ning keep going i’m sososo close- fuckfuckfuck..” feeling yourself getting pushed closer to the edge by the friction you felt, you bucked your hips faster onto her digits. the knot tying in your stomach felt like it would’ve snapped any second now, that is,

until she stopped moving her fingers altogether.

frustrated, you whined loudly, “ninggg please let me cum pleaseplease-” 

“oh yeah? so now you wanna rely on me for something, and it’s to make you cum?” she laughed. “fucking slut. i’ll make you cum whenever i want to, got it, bitch?” she added, pressing her thumb on your swollen throbbing clit, smirking condescendingly and watching how pretty you looked when pleasure contorted your face.

you unintentionally clenched at her words, nodding shamefully. it was embarrassing enough having your best friend knuckles deep inside of you, having her call you names and whatnot, but the real embarrassing part? 

enjoying it thoroughly.

she knew this, she knew she had you wrapped around her finger at that moment and oh was it such a power trip for her. seeing you be so needy for her touch, you almost started riding her fingers yourself, too. she was always the one being treated like a dumb bitch, it was nice being on the other side of things, for a change. 

she kept twisting and pulling on your nipple with her free hand as she slowly started to slide her fingers up and down your walls again, giggling and paying close attention to how your body shook and twitched at each and every one of her slow movements. what a sight to see. 

“you like being fucked stupid hm?”

and that’s what she did,

seconds,

minutes,

what felt likes hours,

you were sloppily bouncing and grinding on her fingers, speed ranging from a painful slowness to an overwhelming rapidity. 

you gripped her arms tightly, as if you would fall into some sort of void if you didn’t hold onto her for dear life. resting your head on her shoulder, you whined, losing yourself onto her. her fingers were still pumping in and out of you at that moment, faster than they were before, by the way, so it took you all of your body strength to not just cum right then and there, but you managed to hold back. for her, you held back and took all of it. every minute passing, every single motion feeling like it was threatening to make you go insane. 

“ning pleaseplease let me cum i wanna cum so badly fuck- pleasepleasepleasepleaseee-” you begged, looking down at her with pleading teary eyes.

“fuck, look at you. calling me a dumb bitch all the time, yet here you are, acting oh so stupid for my fingers. such a brainless needy little whore for me, hm? does my idiotic, pretty girl wanna cum?” 

you nodded eagerly as you whined, tears actively running down both of your cheeks, so desperate for release that you quite honestly didn’t care for how ridiculous you looked to her at that moment. you just wanted to cum, so, so, so badly, and you were ready to give up your dignity for it.

the sound of her hand slapping your cheek resonated in the car.

“say it. you know damn well i don’t accept pathetic sounds for an answer.”

“fuck— your idiotic pretty girl wants to cum pleaseee let her–”

she hummed, smirking at your response. incredibly amused by your behavior, she took her fingers out of you, picked you up by placing her hands on your thighs, then gently put you on the empty seat that was next to the one she occupied. upon seeing you sat comfortably, she proceeded to kneel down on the empty space between the front seats and the backseats. y’know,

the ones a grown woman couldn’t possibly fit in?

it’s okay though, like, yeah she would most definitely complain about back pain later, but right now?

she needed to feel you cum all over her tongue.

and that’s exactly what she worked towards, her tongue driven by the scent of your arousal to roam all over your folds and clit, kissing and sucking on every inch of your core as she attentively listened to all the sweet noises that came out of you. it really did not take long before your moans reached octaves you didn’t even know you could achieve before, an overwhelming wave of relief hitting you like a truck. you were 100% sure you would pass out afterwards.

at the end of the day, yeah, you both were still stranded in the middle of some unknown parking lot, but at least, the stress of it all evaporated in the air.

while you were trying to catch your breath, you made a mental note;

never underestimate ning’s intelligence when she was in a bad mood! or, do. depending on if you wanna get fucked stupid that day or not.

[yujinslovr]

DAY 10 : gp!chaewon and minju x fem!reader

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

CW: double penetration, dub con?, degradation, creampie, oral, lmk if there's anything else!

word count: 3,514

a/n: 8.397 inches long, 3.95 inches wide, salmon pink tip (#fa8076 to be exact), warm beige shaft (#ddbd9e) trimmed, and curves to the left slightly

kim chaewon and kim minju, everyone on campus knew of them, the famous kim's. the two girls had been childhood friends and were the campus crushes, the soccer captain and co-captain. they were both known as players in and out of the field, breaking hearts was nothing but a game to them. they got away with anything and everything they did, they were the pride of the school, their amazing skill in the field leading the school to endless victories. after graduation, the duo was set to go into the national leagues. not only were they insanely hot, their bodies toned due to the constant practice that was required in order to excel in their sport, but their parents were also the main funders of the school. they both came from some of the most prestigious families in all of south korea. due to their parents funding and their insane soccer skills, the both of them would get away with anything and everything. showing up to class was an option for them, all they needed to say was they were practicing and they’d get away scot free. 

chaewon and minju had never been denied by anyone, they had everyone begging to be with them. when chaewon saw you sitting on a couch at one of the parties yena hosted, she was stunned by your beauty. she had never seen you before, but she’d make sure to get to know you in more ways than ones. she confidently approached you and slid an arm over your shoulders gaining your attention. “what’s a pretty girl like you doing alone?” chaewon said in her usual confident tone. 

You shrugged her arm off, “maybe I want to be alone.” 

chaewon knew girls of your kind, a smirk spread across her face, knowing you were just playing hard to get. “I think i can change your mind on that.” chaewon said in a smug tone. “i’m kim chaewon.” she said, holding her hand out for you to shake. 

“i know.” everyone knew the famous kim chaewon, her along with her best friend kim minju had their faces plastered all over campus. it was practically impossible to not know the name, seeing as not only was she the biggest person on campus, but her family was also one of the biggest in south korea, you’d have to live under a rock to not know her. along with her name came her reputation, she was famous for playing with girls’ hearts and you did not want to be added to her list of fucks.

“can i get your name, pretty?” she said with a chuckle at your words, you knowing her only solidified her thought that you wanted her. 

“look, i'm really not interested and i’d appreciate it if you left me alone.” you said in your calmest voice, not trying to sound like a bitch but also quickly getting annoyed.

chaewon didn’t let your words affect her, she knew you wanted her, everyone did. “look-” she clearly mocked. “i know girls like you, and i understand your little game of back and forth but frankly I'm getting a bit bored. what do you say we go back to my place and you can get what you really want.” chaewon’s hand found its place on your upper thigh, giving it a little squeeze to emphasize her words. 

“wow, you’re such a fucking douche.” and with that you stood up silently fuming as you walked out of the house. you wish you could’ve punched her right then and there but you didn't want to cause a scene and you’d definitely get bodied. so you chose the smarter option, and decided to walk back to your dorm which was luckily not that far of a walk.

chaewon stayed where she was on the couch, fuming on the inside in embarrassment. she had never been rejected and she wasn't about to let you be her first, she’d make sure to get you. minju, who had witnessed the whole thing from a distance, came over laughing at chaewon. “wow, did i really just witness kim chaewon getting rejected?” 

“shut up.” chaewon sneered, her pride hurt at the fact that you really rejected her. 

“I think you might be losing your charm.” minju said in a chuckle, still not over the fact that chaewon really got rejected. “let's make a bet actually, i think I'm interested in her too. lets see who can get in her pants first.” 

and with that it started

you didn't know how, but somehow both of the famous kims seemed to have gotten your schedule. ever since you left that party a couple weeks ago the duo had not left you alone, both of them constantly throwing pick up lines and just trying to woo you in general. it was honestly so annoying and bothersome, the two were waiting outside of your every class and would constantly be following you around. you tried to reject them, but they just didn't seem to get the memo. hell, you even reported them to the office for harassment yet as expected the school didn't do anything, at most giving them a small ‘don't do it again’.

today was the homecoming game, and you were originally going to stay in your dorm room, and maybe watch a movie. but you had reluctantly been dragged out of your dorm by your best (and only) friend wonyoung. her girlfriend was on the team and so she obviously went to all the games, but since this was the last one of the semester and against SMU, one of your schools biggest competitors, she wanted you to be there with her. 

you had never been interested in sports before, so you didn't really understand all that was happening. but you understood that the game was very intense, judging by the scores displayed on the jumbotron, SMU was very very close in score, and you could see how stressed out minju and chaewon looked. they had never lost a game a day in their life and they werent gonna start now. you didn't think you’d originally be very interested in what was going on in the game, you assumed you’d be using your phone throughout the whole game. now that you were actually at the game and watching, you couldn't seem to remove your eyes from the field, thoroughly invested in the game. you were sitting at the edge of your seat, your legs jumping up and down. 

it was during halftime, when everyone took a break that minju noticed you, she went up to chaewon, pointing in your direction. chaewon’s eyes widened, just like minju’s did when she saw you, the both of them shocked to see that you came. it was like seeing you lit something in both of them, after making eye contact and winking at you the duo were on fire, quickly largening the score difference. everytime chaewon made a shot, she’d send you a look, as if boasting yet still asking for her reward. 

before you knew it, the game had ended. minju and chaewon both being the stars of the night, for saving the team from having their first loss. wonyoung had asked you if you could wait outside the locker rooms with her until yujin came out so you all could walk back together. you had been reluctant at first, not wanting to bump into minju or chaewon but wonyoung kept on begging saying that it would be easier since you all lived in the same building. not being able to deny wonyoung’s pout, you now found yourself outside the locker rooms hiding behind wonyoung. 

“God, how much longer will she take?!” you let out exasperated, you had seen probably half the team leave yet yujin was nowhere to be found. 

“she’ll come out any minute, and you're acting like you have better things to be doing.” 

“actually-” you cut yourself off when yujin walked out, minju and chaewon in tow. “god dammit.” you whispered under your breath. 

minju and chaewon had their signature smirks on when they saw you waiting outside. “waiting on us darling?” chaewon said, inching closer and closer to you as you walked backwards. 

“you and yujin can go, we got y/n covered.” minju said, looking at wonyoung as yujin went to pull her away.

you sent a pleading look to wonyoung hoping she wouldn't leave you alone, but wonyoung apparently didn't get the message and instead sent you two thumbs up and a wink. you could strangle wonyoung right now for leaving you between these two douches. 

“look, i was just waiting with wonyoung for yujin, and i’d appreciate it if-” you cut yourself off with a yelp as you felt minju throw you over her shoulder, carrying you inside the locker room. “w-wait what are you guys doing?” 

“well, i mean we just won the homecoming game. don't we deserve a reward?” chaewon said, minju pushing you to your knees in front of chaewon. 

they both pulled down their sweats, revealing their massive cocks. your eyes widened as you switched between looking at minju and chaewon, you had heard the rumors, but seeing it in person you could tell the rumors didn't do them justice. you definitely didn't want to be added to their list of bodies, but seeing chaewon’s cock in front of you, the angry red tip leaking precum you couldn't help but want it. chaewon let out a chuckle at the look on your face, tapping her tip on your lips and smearing your lips with her precum. no matter how much you wanted it, you refused to give her the satisfaction, instead choosing to keep your lips shut, a glint of defiance in your eyes.

with a grunt, chaewon pushed past your closed lips and forcefully entered your mouth. you swirled your tongue around the meat in your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks to suck. the salty taste of her precum filled your taste buds, it wasn't the good kind of salty but for some reason it had you craving for more. you took your time with her, your hand gripping what wouldn't fit into your mouth while you bobbed your head up and down chaewon’s length. your hand simultaneously found minju’s cock, you rubbed her tip, smearing the precum that was there, giving minju a hand job while you sucked chaewon off. 

minju started to thrust her hips, meeting your hand while chaewon did the same thing, tightening her grip in your hair as she thrusted her hips into your mouth. “f-fuck baby, i always knew you wanted me.” your response couldn't be anything more than muffled moans and gags. the overwhelming feeling of chaewon’s thick cock filling up your mouth was more than enough to bring you to tears. you could feel your jaw grow sore as chaewon used your mouth like a fleshlight. the constant grunts chaewon would let out as she slammed her hips into your face almost felt like a reward, her noises turning you on to no end “f-fuck!” and with one last thrust into your mouth she bottomed out, not stopping till your nose was squished against her pelvis. you could feel the warm semen shooting out into the deepest parts of your mouth. the slightly bitter yet sweet taste filled your senses and you couldn't help but wonder how minju would taste. 

after finishing in your mouth, chaewon moved from in front of you and you dropped your hand that was working minju as she came to stand in front of you. your mouth opening in almost instinct as minju stood in front of you, her cock pointing at you, the tip beading with precum. you couldn't take your eyes off of her, she was a bit longer than chaewon but less girthy. 

minju’s hands tangled themselves in your hair, keeping your head still so that she could thrust in easily. your jaw was sore, and so was the back of your throat from the constant abuse, yet you couldn't seem to pull away. if anything you found yourself wanting more, hollowing out your cheeks as you tasted all of her. “a-always knew you wanted us, this is all sluts like you want.” she grunted out, her balls slapping into your chin with every thrust. chaewon stood to the side, her dick not staying down for long at the sight of minju fucking your face. 

chaewon went up behind you, minju pulling out of your mouth after sharing a look with chaewon. chaewon manhandled you onto the bench in the locker room, standing behind you while minju took her place in front of you. minju shared a look with chaewon, rubbing and slapping her wet cock on your face. minju’s other hand suddenly gripped your hair, pulling your head up to look at her, smirking at your state. your own spit mixed with her precum was spread across your face, your mascara was smudged and so was your lipstick. “mm, such a dirty whore for me aren't you?” not letting you give a response, minju shot chaewon a look and then at the same time minju bottomed out in your mouth while chaewon did the same in your cunt. 

your eyes widened, the feeling of chaewon filling you to the brink with no prep whatsoever had you gasping for air, air which you couldn't inhale seeing as minju was all the way in your mouth. your chokes on minju’s dick became more intense, but she didn't care, not one bit. you were here for her pleasure, she didn't care about what happened to you. she eventually did retract her long fucking cock from your mouth, allowing you not more than a second to inhale before she was back in. 

the vibration of your moans on minju’s dick had her blissed out, her head was thrown back and you couldn't seem to rip your eyes from the sight. you knew they were hot, you had eyes, but seeing minju with her head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure, and sweat rolling down her neck you couldn't help but be astonished at her beauty. it was all almost too much for you, the way chaewon pounded into you, hitting parts you didn't even think reachable. it was all too much for you to handle, the built up pressure in your lower stomach finally releasing itself. 

if this was any other time, you might’ve been embarrassed for releasing so quick, but minju pulling out of your mouth and painting your face with her cum had you too distracted. the warm sticky fluid covered your face as minju jerked herself off in front of your face. your head was being held up by minju, one hand in your hair and one on herself. not being able to help yourself, you reached a hand up and swiped a finger over your cheek, collecting her cum and sticking it in your mouth. you hummed around your fingers at the taste, instantly craving more; had you known minju tasted this good, you long would’ve given yourself up. 

“what a fucking whore, cant get enough can you? i bet a whore like you would love to be filled up by us daily, have your useless holes put to use.” minju’s degradation was turning you on way more than it should’ve, no longer denying their words but instead nodding rapidly at minju’s words. 

it didn't take long for chaewon to cum either, her following closely after minju. pulling out just to marvel at the sight of your cunt clenching around nothing, her semen dripping out in white globs. despite having just cum, the two soccer players couldn't seem to get it down, the sight of you all ruined for them having a big effect on them. 

minju left from in front of you, going behind you to join chaewon. words weren’t needed for the duo, a simple glance saying everything that needed to be said. minju’s cock was already soaked in your spit, but just to be safe, she reached down to your cunt and scooped some of your cum mixed with chaewon’s and slathered her cock with it. chaewon picked you up, sitting down on the bench and then placing you on top of her, while simultaneously sinking herself back into your snatch. 

minju stayed standing until chaewon shot her a look, lifting you up a bit and spreading your ass cheeks open. you let out a small confused squeak at the action, but still didn't think much of it. not until you felt minju’s tip prodding at your asshole, you weren’t given so much as a heads up before minju shoved herself into the tight ring of muscle. you had taken only a couple people there before, but none of them even came close to not only minju’s length but also her girth. 

the feeling of both minju and chaewon’s monster fucking cocks in you was most definitely too much. you dont think you’ve ever felt this full, you could feel the both of them moving in and out of you. when chaewon would pull out minju would plunge herself in, not giving you even a moment without being full of cock. your hands were clawing at chaewon’s back as you repeatedly moaned out their names, almost like a mantra. you could feel it, it had barely even been a few minutes yet you had never been more sure of this feeling. you tried your best to hold out, but it was just too much the constant full feeling, the way they made sure that not a crevice was left untouched was too much. the feeling of minju reaching around you to grope your breasts was the frosting on the cake. with the feeling of minju twisting your nipple in between her fingers and you could feel the knot in your lower stomach snapping. you came with a high pitched moan, creamy rings of your cum shaping themselves around chaewon’s length. 

the minute you came down from your high, the immediate pain of overstimulation hitting full force. you tried to push yourself off of chaewon, mumbling out ‘wait’, but both minju and chaewon did not care “what happened baby? too much?” chaewon said, her eyes doused in lust, the small glint of faux innocence barely showing in the ocean of lust. 

“t-t’ much… p-please, ‘t hurts..” you mumbled out, tears streaming down your face, the overstimulation too much for you.

“too bad, me ‘n wonnie still haven’t gotten off. maybe if your whore pussy didnt cream so soon this wouldn't be happening..” minju said, you could practically see her mocking pout. 

you could feel a wave of humiliation wash over you at her words. though you weren’t allowed to indulge in your humiliation, as you felt a finger hook itself in your cunt stretching it open as chaewon stilled. your eyebrows furrowed, to fucked out to even begin to understand what was about to happen. It was then that you felt minju shove her whole cock into your already full snatch. “MMPH— i-it hurts! t-too much!” 

you could see the grin on chaewon’s face, satisfied at what they were doing to you and your reaction. “y’know, if you just hadn’t played hard to get this wouldn't be happening, it’s your punishment for even thinking you could reject me. chaewon said, pulling out and pushing herself back in, barely giving you a minute to adjust. 

“f-fuck you’re suffocating me.” minju groaned out, kneading your ass as she finally started to move.  

the fullness you were now feeling, was something much different from how it felt before. you felt as if you were being stretched to your absolute breaking point, as if the two of them were splitting you open. the feeling mixed with how overstimulated you were sent you into overdrive, leaning down to muffle your moans by biting into chaewon’s shoulder. you were sure you drew blood with how hard you were biting, the faint metallic taste in your mouth proof of that. yet you couldn't seem to let that thought sit for even a second, the overstimulation morphing into overwhelming pleasure. 

all the voices and noises seemed to blur out, the only thing you could focus on being the amazing feeling of being split open by two of the biggest cocks you’d ever seen. you had never felt anything this intense. the warm feeling of chaewon shooting her load into you closely followed by minju was your breaking point. everything was just too much, the feeling of finally letting go of the intense built up pressure in your lower stomach was euphoric. 

“holy fucking shit.” you could faintly hear chaewon’s voice as she looked at the mess you had made all over her and minju.

you felt chaewon’s soft hands rubbing your back while minju whispered sweet nothings into your ear trying to calm you down. that was the last thing you felt before losing your consciousness, the exhaustion of all that you had done catching up with you.

[ficandkaboodle]

Now for everybody’s favorite opinion-based game they might not admit to playing but absolutely do play in nearly every fandom they’re in:

✨🫦Does That Man Moan in Bed?!👄✨

(Sponsored by Monster Energy: We lied, we are Satanic)

Papa Nihil: Yes. Just. Yes. This man moans like a little bitch even when he’s topping. And growls. And whimpers. Even if it’s someone he’s not really into all that much. Honestly, it seems very exaggerated on his part like he’s trying to be a porn star but no, those are very real sounds he’s letting into the air like that, He just takes every ounce of pleasure he can get from the stimuli and that’s enough to make him drown out every single noise that isn’t him and maybe a bit of the bed putting up a fight.

Papa Primo: No. Lack of interest in foreplay aside, I think even a saner, more pleasant-in-bed Primo isn’t particularly noisy in bed. He comes off more as a heavy breathing, occasional panting or grunting type of guy to me. Maybe a sigh here or there. If anything, the most noise I can see him making an effort in making is either dirty talk or reciting the text for the sexual magick ritual you’re performing. You might even think he’s not into it but rest assured, he absolutely is. He’s just not a particularly bombastic person by nature, and this carries over into the bedroom. He’ll show other signs he’s into it if you think his regular sounds aren’t enough, though.

Papa Secondo: Yes but unless you two have been together a good while and he trusts you, you’d likely never know. Secondo, for as flamboyant as he can actually be outside of his robes, probably sees moaning as a sign of weakness. That, or he’s embarrassed of how he sounds. (And has probably accidentally overheard his gross old man a few times. Frankly it’s a miracle he didn’t wind up completely disgusted by sex.) He tries to make “strong manly noises”: He’s taught himself how to contort those sounds into tooth-clenching grunts and forcing himself through words unbroken. They’re sexy for sure, but when you’ve finally reached a point where he lets you hear his real sounds, you can’t help but notice an extra layer of warmth to his voice. Simultaneously, it’s lighter; more floating. Even if he trusts you now, though, he’s still going to be embarrassed about it so make sure you make it clear to him that you adore his noises and would certainly love to hear more.

Papa Terzo: Yes. Kind of. Terzo does moan, but it’s actually naturally quieter than what sounds he winds up giving in bed. He’s so used to playing everything up and bolstering peoples’ expectations of him as this flamboyant slut of a man that most of what noises he makes in bed are just exaggerations of what he actually does. He tends to make much softer moans and sighs compared to the absolutely pornographic noises most lovers wind up hearing. He tries to justify it internally as helping to arouse his partner, bringing them to that cherished orgasm, of course, the thing is that because he’s so focused on how he thinks he should sound, he doesn’t always feel every inch of his own release. Much like Secondo, I think the real sounds come through when he knows you can be trusted and isn’t afraid of you seeing the real him, warts and all. He feels much more relaxed and you can feel the depth of adoration he has for you now that he’s not so focused on putting on a show.

Papa Copia: He does but honestly? He’s more of a gasper and whimperer. Higher-pitched noises. It’s an awful thing to have inherited from Nihil, all things considered, but it makes the most sense at least to me. He’s always been a bit shy in one-on-one interactions with people. Add in a splash of possible humiliation when his peers might’ve overheard him and started calling him a Rat Boy and he might’ve just developed a means of being quieter. Well, as quiet as he can get. He’s such a sensitive topino after all. However, you absolutely can work those bigger moans and pleas out of him. Simply pin him down, praise him, ride him like he’s a sex toy that won’t break no matter how rough you ride him, and watch him unravel into a begging, crying mess beneath you that can barely string together a coherent sentence. All in all, though, for as fun as that can be, you still quite adore Copia’s usual little noises. Oh, your sweet little Satanic Church Mouse…

[love-lilly02]

The Challenge pt. 4

AN: This chapter was supposed to be out yesterday but I got kinda sick so I couldn't edit it, Anyways, enjoy!!

“Would you mind spotting me?” 

The question seems innocent enough, if you weren’t asking it to the scariest man on the base, much less your lieutenant.

Ghost lifted his head from where he was sitting on a bench, unwrapping his hands after his own training session. 

You quickly back tracked at his expression, rethinking your choice. “You don’t have too, I think I got this set-“

“No, no I got it.” He stood, moving behind you, standing a little too close, but you chose to ignore it. 

The set was fairly easy, and you finished quickly, thanking him quietly as you moved to put the weights back on their stand. 

“Can I ask you somethin?” Ghost questioned, and you turned to see that he was studying you intently. 

“Yeah?” You prompted, tilting your head slightly. 

“That bet… Why’d you do it?” 

You shrugged. “I was drunk, mostly. Figured there couldn’t be any harm. What’s the worst that can happen, anyways?” 

That made him chuckle. “You have no idea, do you?” 

“What do you mean?” You asked, furrowing your brow in confusion. The tall man walked closer to you, moving you slowly till your back hit the wall. 

“This ain’t just a game to those boys, it’s a challenge. Whoever wins you won’t be kind, I hope you know that.” He places an arm above your head, effectively pinning you against the wall. You can feel his breath through the mask, and the warmth against your neck sends a shiver down your spine. 

“Honestly, darlin’ You’re a right fuckin tease when you wanna be, hm? Acting all innocent, like you don’t know how much we all want to-“

“I’ve got it!!” 

Soap’s voice cut through the whole training room, as he ran in frantically waving a piece of paper in the air. “I found one! Take that bitch, I’m in the lead!” 

“Wait, what? Found what?” You and Ghost jumped apart from each other, both running over to where Johnny was doing a -frankly crude- victory dance. Your heart was absolutely pounding, heat still flying through your body at the encounter with Ghost. 

We all want to what? What do they want to do…

“You did not find it, I did.” Kyle huffed, diving for the photo in Soap’s hand. “Give it back you pathetic excuse for a-“ 

“Hey,” Price said in warning. Kyle just huffed and backed away from Soap. 

“Finders keepers,” Soap teased in a sing song voice, throwing the photo on the bench. “The first of ten. Which puts me in the lead.” 

“You aren’t in the lead if you stole a photo, that’s not how it works.” Ghost said, kneeling down to pick up the image.

“Like I said, finders keepers. S’not my fault Gaz wanted tae hoard the photos till ‘e got all ten. His loss aye?” Soap nudged you playfully on the shoulder, but you were too busy trying to see the image to acknowledge him. 

Gaz looked pathetically over to Price, opening his mouth to plead his case. Price beat him to it, however. “Soap, that’s not nice. Gaz found it, he takes the credit.”

“Awe, come off it captain, It’s just a bit of fun  huh?” 

“Johnny.”

“Yes sir.”

“Still dont think it’s fair,” Ghost threw in. 

“Whadya mean? I found the image-“ Kyle protested, turning to Ghost now. 

“Yeah but from where?” Ghost challenged, placing the photo back on the bench 

“Online? Don’t see how it matters, it’s a photo.” 

“But it’s not creditable, this could be edited-“

And so it continued. You had long since tuned out the bickering, leaning down to look at the photo. It did look like you, a smiling child holding an award for something you couldn’t really read. 

The closer you looked, however, the more you started to see the imperfections. The girl in the photo had straight hair, at that age yours was more curly. And she was holding a ball in her hands, a basketball. 

Of all the sports you played, basketball was never one of them. 

“That’s not me.”

They were still shouting, yelling over each other to be heard above the voices. Johnny was pressing Kyle for where he got the information, and Kyle was refusing to say, under the excuse it would give them a ‘better advantage’ than he had. Johnny was still trying to insist they should share the win, and Price was just yelling for everyone to calm the fuck down. 

“Hello?” You called, trying to raise your voice above all of them. “Hey, I said that isn’t me.”

But the yelling continued. It seemed to go on forever, all of them arguing over one small image. The topic slowly changed, however, till they started crossing into uncharted territory. 

“Look-“ Gaz snapped, breathing heavily. “I found the photo, just like the deal said. That makes one out of ten for me. You lot can do what you will but I’m not sharing.”

“You didn’t have a problem sharing last night, isn’t that right?” Ghost hissed, and the gym was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Your head ached trying to figure out what the boys were saying, the double meanings behind everything, but you couldn’t keep up. 

“I don’t give a fuck what I did and didn’t do last night, what’s fair is fair.” Kyle snapped, turning to grab the photo. 

“You’re just mad cause you don’t want to think about one of us fu-“ 

“That’s enough!” Now it was you who was yelling, and the boys watching you in disbelief. 

“Look, this isn’t like that, okay! I’m sick of you all objectifying me like i’m some fucking doll. I don’t know what side bets you have going on but I want out of this one. I made the deal drunk and you all watched me try to get out of it the next morning, and now you’re yelling like fucking children over a picture that doesn’t even have me in it. I never even did basketball for fucks sake! And you would know this if you acted like normal fucking human beings, much less behave like the grown men you are and ask me.” They all looked at you in absolute shame, as you threw the photo on the ground. 

“And for the record, I am not fucking one of you on a deal. I don’t work like that so get the thought out of your head.”

You shoved past the wall of muscle made up by both Price and Ghost, storming off to your room.

For the longest time, he sat there and thought about exactly what happened in the gym. 

Kyle was no fool. He understood what bringing up the photo would do, and he knew Soap would try and take the credit, as they had agreed the night before. 

He didn’t actually know why he changed his mind. Kyle had no problem sharing you with the others, they were right anyways. 

He shared all the time. 

But something about introducing you to… this… scared him. As if they could frighten you off. 

He knew that wasn’t true, so why did he think that way?

An apology message sat, typed out on his phone. He was procrastinating, heavily, on sending it, worried that it might be a little too much for you to handle. 

Was it? You had taken your the whole team so nicely, he thought you would be ready… 

 More photos of you sad scattered on his desk. A lot of them looked like what Price had found before, a bunch of family photos with you missing or images of a girl who looked exactly like you but she wasn’t you. 

Today’s events proved that. 

Anyone else might have been saddened at the revelation. Putting weeks of work into one image, just to be wrong? Enough to crush a man, if it was done correctly.  

But Kyle Gaz Garric is no ordinary man.

Before he can think about it too much, he hurriedly hits send on the message and closes his phone. 

Now, we wait.

My Masterlist

[redclercs]

DELICATE✰ CHARLES LECLERC.

xi.it’s okay we’re the best of friends

— the one where all you do is think about the feelings that you hide.

warnings: guys, my brain was failing during this so not really proofread, also please pretend the dress is the same in both pics lol, alcohol consumption. 2.5k words.

currently playing: drive by halsey!

masterlist ✢ next

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softyn FIRST POST SINCE MAY AND MOTHER WANTS US DEAD

ynstars I LOVE YOU SO MUCH SLAY

aid4anfeels ugly bitch

lecsainz516 whose wedding is this, charles and carlos were there too

formulayn did @/charles_leclerc take these?

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THE COMMENTS FOR THIS POST ARE LIMITED.

August 5th, Madrid, Spain.

WHEN Charles said you needed to make new memories in Spain to replace the bad ones, you didn’t have a wedding in mind. However, with the rollercoaster that is your life as of lately, you don’t swim against the current anymore. Just going with it is not a bad way to live when you’re still trying to reach the surface and get away from the wreckage.

Things aren’t good. Not yet. The press is still having a field day with all that he said, she said merry go round. Aidan and Victoria are fighting to play the victim and Mia Kim is on a mission to paint you as the worst sister-in-law who could have ever existed. Which, to be fair, paints her in a weird Freudian light.

But things are better than they were the last time you were in Spain. And that’s something to be grateful for.

“Are you sure?” You asked Charles on FaceTime for the third time that night two weeks ago, he had just asked you to be his plus one to one of his Ferrari mates’ wedding. “Are you a hundred percent sure they won’t mind?”

The last thing you wanted was to feel like an intruder, and with the type of attention you carry around like a dark cloud over your head, ruining someone’s special day was not an experience you wanted to add to your repertoire.

“Of course they won’t mind, soleil.” Charles assured, he was still in Hungary after the Grand Prix. “Tommaso told me I could bring anyone, and I want to bring you.”

The last time you saw Charles in person was in New York City, almost two months ago. It doesn't mean, of course, that you stopped communicating. Whenever Charles is on his phone, you can be certain you'll receive a text, a picture or a random iMessage drawing. You handle time zones as best you can without sacrificing too much sleep time, especially for the one who has to drive a car at 300 km/hr.

Although he insisted on you coming to any Grand Prix of your choice, you thought it best to stay away from the paddock for a while. Plus, you had some work to do. You didn't love Talk Shows while promoting, most hosts did horrible, unfunny jokes, and you were the butt of a lot of them, but if being in some of them helped you to speak about your situation and dismiss whatever rumor Victoria, Aidan or Mia (or just about half the internet) had going on, you were willing to make the sacrifice.

You were also willing to attend a complete stranger's wedding just to see Charles again, but you didn't want to give that thought the depth it demanded from you. Not in the seven hour flight from New York to Madrid, and not now, as you're getting ready for Charles to pick you up to go to the wedding.

Your blue dress is frankly magnificent, and you are aware of how good you look, but it doesn't hurt that the first thing Charles does when the doors to the lift open, is compliment you. Well, to be fair, the first thing he does is gather his thoughts and try not to feel stupid after basically picking his jaw up from the floor.

"You look gorgeous," Charles says, clearing his throat. His sudden anxiety makes you chuckle, as his Adam's apple bobs up his neck. "I missed you so much, soleil."

You are mildly disappointed when he doesn't hug you the way he did back in New York, and you dismiss the feeling almost as quickly as it appeared. Although his words linger in the air, he missed you, and you did too.

"I don't want to ruin your hair," he explains, as if he's read your mind, and smiles wider.

"Right," you shake your head, it was obvious. "You look pretty good yourself, Charlie," you add, always trying to return the compliment, and only managing to make it awkward.

There is something about men in suits that makes them twice as attractive, and it's unfair when it comes to someone like Charles, who is already way too handsome as it is.

"Thank you," Charles is always nice enough to accept your half-assed, anxiety induced compliments. "Shall we?"

You nod, and when he offers his arm to lead you to the car, you link yours through it taking a breath so deep, it makes your lungs ache.

"Do you like weddings?" Charles asks as the engine of his car roars to life. A red Ferrari is the only way you manage to describe it, afraid of getting details wrong. Although you're certain Charles would patiently explain anything you needed to know about it, you don't ask.

"Everyone likes weddings," you reply, setting both hands on top of your knees. "Right?"

Charles chuckles and shrugs, "I guess so,"

You love weddings, except when you're expected to be the bride.

"Charles," you pat his shoulder and he takes his eyes off the road for the briefest second. "Are you completely sure the bride doesn't mind my presence?"

You don't want to give yourself some sort of importance you don't deserve—the bride has more important things to worry about—but particularly nervous about how your presence will be received at the celebration.

"Seriously, y/n," Charles soothes, his right hand leaves the steering wheel and searches for your own blindly, accidentally landing on your empty lap. He takes his hand back immediately, red creeping up his neck. "It's fine." he resolves, his sight way too focused on the road now.

"Alright," you whisper, smoothing the skirt of your dress. "Alright."

Both of you remain silent the rest of the way as you take in the Spanish landscape and Charles drives like his life depends on it. You promised yourself you'd ask for as much information on the happy couple as you could, but your voice is lost in the pit that opened in your stomach.

And the evening is just beginning.

It's after the ceremony, at cocktail hour that you find everything out about Tommaso and Bárbara thanks to none other than Carlos Sainz, who seems to really have a thing for gossip and also, for making fun of you for crying during the vows.

"Leave me alone, Carlos," you warn for the last time, this time threatening him with your closed fist. "Not my fault you don't have a heart in that big-ass chest."

This makes him laugh harder, and even Charles chuckles against the lip of his whiskey glass.

"I miss you so much around the paddock, y/n!" Carlos sighs, patting the place above his heart. "For real."

You click your tongue. "Sure you do,"

Carlos and you talk a lot less than Charles and you do, of course. But if Charles calls you during whatever free time he has while in the Ferrari Suite, you can trust Carlos to insert himself in the conversation.

"And a lot of the other drivers do too," Carlos' tone is mocking again, and you glower at him.

"Stop picking on me," this time you punch him on the shoulder.

"I'm being serious. Lando has a crush on you,"

You talked to Lando a few times, mostly when he and Carlos were being boys and hitting each other in the balls outside the Ferrari Suite and Lando made small talk as he tried not to touch his private parts. A crush is an exaggeration, Lando just told you he thought you were cool for making movies.

"Why don't we take some pictures?" Charles suggests before downing the rest of his whiskey. You don't miss the look he gives Carlos.

"Why not?" you smile at Charles, shrugging. The place is beautiful and you would love to have a memory of this whole thing that you can go back to.

"I'll catch up with you guys," Carlos calls as you two walk away, uninterested in the impromptu photoshoot.

Charles directs an annoyed look at him again and then makes it go away to return his attention to you.

"What was that?" you ask, taking Charles' arm again for him to lead you to where the rest of the guests are more scattered and won't photobomb your pictures.

"What was what?" Charles lifts an eyebrow, forever the expert at playing dumb. Or, not really.

You shake your head, this is another deep thought you don't want to venture into. There is enough of this weird tension already, and you're not sure if Charles feels it too.

─────────

"Your girlfriend is beautiful," a lady is patting your hand, a gentle smile on her face as she looks at Charles. She's the spouse of another Ferrari team member, and the first thing she did was compliment your dress before even asking for your name.

"Oh, I'm not—"

"We're just friends," Charles clears up, gentle as well. "But y/n really is beautiful."

The woman raises both eyebrows and laughs, an 'oh you kids' snicker that isn't unkind. "Of course, of course."

It's the first time of many during this party that Charles has to say you're not in a relationship, and it seems to get easier every time the words come out of his mouth.

Although it's true, you're not sure why it nags at you.

You cry again during the couple's First Dance and verbally threaten Carlos to leave you alone as you wipe your tears carefully, doing your best to keep your makeup intact. He laughs, but takes your threat seriously and remains quiet. This whole Tom and Jerry thing is amusing but he doesn't want to actually make you angry.

A few songs in, after you're done bickering with Carlos and you have finished your third glass of champagne, Charles asks you to dance with him.

An slowed-down version of Sixpence's 'Kiss Me' plays as you take the dance floor. You blame your giddiness on the fact that you finished that flute of champagne in record time.

"What is it?" Charles questions, smoothly placing one hand on your hip while the other holds your palm. His thumb runs up and down the curve of your wrist.

"What if I step on your foot?" you retort, looking up at him. That's only one thing that makes you nervous, although you know how to dance. You took lessons for both Supercut and Parisian Valentine.

Laughter bubbles from Charles' chest and you join in, although this makes you even more nervous. It would be stupid to say you don't see how handsome he is, even if he's just your friend.

"I won't mind," Charles promises, and his fingers press a little harder against your hip bone.

"Okay, then."

It's obviously not a complicated endeavor to sway around the dance floor with Charles, he lets you set the pace, lacing your fingers together after you spin back to him.

"Thank you for coming with me, soleil," he says in a low voice. You can smell the alcohol in his breath although it's been a while since he stopped drinking, he still has to drive you back to your hotel. "I really missed you these two months."

"I love weddings. Thanks for inviting me," you squeeze his shoulder, the contrast of your manicured nails against his shirt distracts you momentarily from the fact that you can feel his breath against your jaw.

It's the second time today that you miss the chance to tell him you missed him too, and you know he notices it by the way he leans away.

The song ends before your tongue decides to respond to you again and Charles lets go of you. A few seconds feel like an hour as you stare at each other, unable—or unwilling—to say anything of what either of you really want to say.

"Care to dance?" a guy with longish hair and dark eyes is offering you his hand now, as a faster song starts and the lights around the room turn brighter.

You break eye contact with Charles and when you look at him again, he just nods, taking a step back to your assigned table.

"Sure," you tell the guy, a tense smile on your face. "Let's dance."

The ride back to your hotel is silent again, and you're too tired to find a way to fill it.

Charles' energy has shifted and this makes your stomach turn. Your anxiety worsens every time you feel someone is 'off' towards you, and that someone being Charles makes it a hundred times worse.

He takes the elevator to your room with you, placing his hand gently in the middle of your bare back to let you in first.

"We're okay, right?" you whisper, looking at your distorted reflections on the silver wall of the cubicle.

You see Charles' reflection frown and then his face turns to you. "Of course we're okay, y/n. Is something wrong?"

You shake your head, the loose strands of your bun tickle your nape. "I'm just wondering."

Charles is never bothered by your need for reassurance, not even when he needs reassurance himself. That he's not being a complete and absolute moron by wanting the woman all the boys want to dance with, and holding onto that little slither of hope that he might have a chance with her. He's the one standing next to you after the party, still.

"We are okay. Didn't you have fun today?" he asks, pushing those thoughts aside. You're friends. Just friends.

"Of course I did!" you inhale sharply, "I just— nevermind." you take your hand to the back of your head, already tired of the half undone bun that threatens to give you a headache.

"I had fun. I always have fun when I'm with you," Charles follows you out of the elevator and down the hallway to the third door marked with a 3321.

You're still struggling to find the exact hairpin that holds your hairdo together, and Charles pinpoints it almost at the same time as you do, pulling it out swiftly to make your hair fall down your shoulders.

It's a meaningless gesture, Charles hasn't given it a second thought or stopped walking. But a shiver runs down your back as his knuckles graze your nape.

"Thanks, Charlie." You say, swallowing.

"Of course," Charles puts the pin inside the pocket of his trousers with a shrug.

You stand in front of the room for a minute, having a stare down again as you rub the back of your head.

"Thank you again for today, Charles." you're the one to break the silence, keycard already between your fingers. "I had a great time."

"I'm glad, soleil." Charles his dimples appear when he smiles and your breath hitches when he leans towards you. It feels like you've been showered with ice cold water. "Good night, y/n," he says and presses his lips against your cheek.

"Good night, Charlie," you wave him goodbye from the door as he walks back to the lift.

The feeling of his lips against your skin is there, even after you've washed your face and tucked yourself into bed.

─── team principal radio: ❝thank you for reading! surprisingly, i don't have much to say this time other than i really hope you enjoyed this chapter, and that I appreciate each one of you dearly!♡❞

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[fandoms-in-law]

That Bitch's Boundaries

Summary: Steve decides that to make the point about him having boundaries the boys teasing has gone over he isn't giving them lifts until he gets an apology. He gets to bitch at Nancy and Jonathan over how things have happened between them when they try to interfere with that.

Author's note: Most of this was written while I was working and frankly, I CBA to add in descriptions of actions and tone anymore than I already have done. But I do like having fics that are just or at least mostly speech occasionally

My Idea for Today: Steve turns the story back on the party. If they keep bringing up shit from his past, he'll do the same. "Okay Nance, let's talk about bullshit." "Sure Jonathan, wanna talk about creeping? About taking pictures through bedroom windows?"

/\/\

“Hey Dustin, quick question. I know where your too far line for teasing is, but where’s mine?”

Blank looks met him from most of the boys, though Will looked thoughtful. “You- You don’t have any.”

“You don’t notice them, do you?” He raised an eyebrow looking over all the kids. “Even when you always push past them. So is it all your friends who aren’t allowed boundaries like that, or should I start enforcing them with no lifts or last minute movie nights?”

/\/\

“Steve, Mike said you aren’t doing your job any more.”

Steve glanced around Family Video then down at himself pointedly. “You ask while I am working, Nancy. Maybe trust your eyes over Mike on this one.”

“You’re refusing to give them lifts or have them over, why?”

“Excuse me? I might do that a lot, but it isn’t my job and they don’t want me around. The amount of insults thrown my way says everything.”

“King Steve can’t take some teasing?”

“Constant insults isn’t some teasing.”

“Just pick them up and stop ignoring -” Nancy began but Steve cut her off.

“Bullshit. They’d ignored me saying my boundaries were crossed. They can cycle and deal with consequences. But you never did, did you? Let’s revisit bullshit with the party later.” Robin appeared in his eyeline, nodding supportively out of Nancy’s view.

“I don’t think that’s needed. It would be-”

He cut her off again. “Pointing out that you weren’t innocent in the break up which Mike at least believes you were. You don’t order me around and should never order someone to forgive other, Nancy.”

/\/\

“Byers, what’s up?”

“Nancy asked me to talk to you. Get you to talk to the kids again.”

“Oh, I’m still talking to El and Will, don’t worry about that.”

“The rest of them?”

“Can apologise first.”

“For saying shit? Like you’ve never done that.” Jonathan scoffed.

“Tell me how Will would react to learning that when he was missing you were taking creep shots through me window and then decide if having boundaries against the kids is so bad.”

/\/\

“Harrington?”

“Hey Eddie, what’s up?”

“How far did the shitheads go for you to do this or was it the frequency?”

“Mostly the frequency. You’re not pushing for me to forgive them?”

“Wouldn’t work and Robin’s gone guard dog in here since Byers tried that. You’re a bitch but you’re still allowed boundaries. What was the too far point beyond how often they said shit?”

“Doesn’t matter, normal ‘Steve couldn’t figure anything out’ shit.” Steve paused at the twitch in Eddie’s expression, “I know that look; What are you scheming?”

“Most of those assholes get the point better if its an NPC. Apologised to Lucas and got the scorn for jocks Mike and Dustin had started copying gone in one session. You up for helping me make a character you to make the point?”

“Sure, any of their characters have siblings? Nance and Jonathan have back stories I’d like fitting in somehow.” Steve had implied that he’d keep quiet if the pair backed off, but that didn’t stop him from getting the kids to question what they didn’t know about happening more.

“Bitch.” Eddie grinned. “Lady Applejack does, unconnected to Lucas and Dustin has a brother too. I think because he wanted to talk you into playing. Kid’s beginning to mope now; 2 weeks without you. Has he tried apologising?”

“Blamed Steve for it all while claiming to apologise.” Robin called, passing them to re-shelve some videos.

“She won’t let me accept half-arsed apologies and is writing up a boundary list for me to use. I was gonna bring back the you suck board instead. 5 strikes and they’ve gone too far so no lifts for some amount of time.”

“Glad to have Guard Dog Buckley on the case.”

“Woof.” She called over, deadpan for a moment before laughing with them.

/\/\

Steve didn’t like refusing the kids lifts or movie nights. He loved them and sometimes could only believe everything was over if he had them all close by. He just couldn’t deny that their constant criticisms and insults hurt him. They might have started off teasing but each day felt more and more genuine and harder to brush off.

When he mentioned it, Robin said he didn’t have to accept it, just because they smiled and included him specifically a lot of the time, and it stuck in his mind. So he put this in place, and even tried writing out an explanation that he’d given to Nancy when she left after failing to convince him to give them lifts again.

It was meant for the kids to read, but she’d read it while stood outside Family Video and he’d watched her throw it to the back seat of her car so Steve doubted the kids ever saw it.

That was until they turned up outside his house after the next Hellfire session and Mike pulled it from his bag, a glare shot in the direction of the Wheeler’s home. “Steve? Can we talk?” He asked, tone making it sound like a demand.

He was still holding the page when they were all seated in Steve’s living room. “Nance didn’t give us this. I found it in her car when I was looking for something else. When did she get it?” He now sounded carefully neutral.

“About a week and a half ago.” Steve simply replied.

“Eddie made you an NPC today!” Dustin burst out excitedly, but dimmed after as if the character had been a difficult part of the days campaign.

Steve nodded at him, wondering if more was going to be said on that. “I know, helped make the character even. Didn’t ask how it would fit in the story though.”

Erica rolled her eyes, bringing Steve’s attention to her. She hadn’t been involved in the no-lifts, or normal support, weeks, so he wasn’t sure why she was here if the rest were intending to apologise. “So that stuff with my older sister, was that something that happened with Nancy?”

“Munson changed those connections but at least sort of.” He hedged, having forgotten how the characters related to the party since talking through the character creation with Eddie.

“Then my brother stood in for Jonathan?” Dustin asked, voice quiet as if questioning his place again. Steve was used to jumping in to prove those thoughts wrong, but couldn’t with everyone around, even ignoring the reason this discussion was happening.

Steve twisted a little there, before replying, “More or less, but that was changed the most to fit your campaign and the setting. Couldn’t edit your backstory to make it fit more either.”

The boys all looked at him closely for a moment before Will coughed, “I’ll ask him later, since you don’t want to share more.”

“Thanks for picking up on that. Just remember, we’ve all grown up and changed since any of that happened.” Steve cautioned, knowing how easy it can be to assume something just learnt is recent for the people actually involved in it.

“Which was when?” Lucas asked.

Mike’s expression twisted, “Nancy’s stuff I guess was the Halloween Will got possessed, but you and Jonathan have always barely talked.”

“It’s better if will asks about it and decides if he wants to share then. I’m not going over that with all of you right now.” It was an uneasy thought, to consciously be refusing to talk about one of the few things they could through all the Upside Down experiences.

“Fine.” Mike’s grumble had him fighting a smirk, maybe it would do the kids some good to not be told all the drama.

Dustin leant forwards now, “And we are sorry. It was cruel of us.” He began, Lucas and Mike nodding along with him while Will hunched in uncomfortably and Erica glared at them judgementally. “I didn’t realise it happened so much, Steve. You’re like my brother and I’ve hated not seeing you these last two weeks.”

“Me too, but I felt shit about myself hearing everyone you’ve been saying.” Steve nodded, but held his arms open. “Come on, you’ve got some apologising still to do, but let’s hug it out now.”

There was no hesitation when Dustin hurried into the hug.

Lucas barely waited for them to separate before going, “But why stop talking to Erica? I get us, like we went too far with teasing you, but she’s the same to everyone.”

“He didn’t. How long till you’d have tried making me get him to talk to you if you’d known? Steve gave me 2 ice cream deliveries, one each week, and let me know what was going on. Why do you think my dice got left in Nancy’s car? Now can I get revenge on anyone over this mess?” Erica stated, as ever able to make everyone else sound dumb for not realising what had been done.

Lucas Mike and Dustin all yelled, “We’re apologising! There’s no need!” in a rush, looking so scared by what Erica might come up with that Steve couldn’t hold back a snicker.

“Then get to apologising, dumbasses.” She gestured back to Steve and leant back fully intending to wait and watch.

[notmorbid]

all-night pharmacy.

dialogue prompts from all-night pharmacy by ruth madievsky.

you're so alive, it's scary.

being a person doesn't come naturally for me.

what's the deal with this place?

you are my best and my worst friend.

are we horrible people?

i like the idea of having someone to come home to.

i can't tell if you're being cruel or if you're just dumb.

these aren't the decisions of a well-adjusted person.

the less you know about my life, the better.

everyone here is a liar and a cheat.

you deserve to have a life of your own.

a person can't be held responsible for what they don't know.

all relationships are transactional.

no one should have that much power over you.

it isn't too late to come back.

you're uninvited from my birthday party.

i love you, but you're such a cunt.

who do you think you are?

forced intimacy makes me lightheaded.

i know you're in there. let me in.

jesus. why do you have a knife?

what happened last night?

it was less embarrassing to pretend i didn't care.

maybe i'm not the mothering type.

i wish i could carry some of this pain for you.

i need a break from feeling so much all the time.

sometimes i can't tell if i'm asleep or awake.

whatever's going on, we'll figure it out.

i don't know what's wrong with me. i'm scared all the time.

this is the most i can imagine for myself.

if you're not asking yourself 'am i ruining my life?' at least once a day, you're not living at all.

you act like you're over it, but it's okay if you're not.

all my life, i've felt like a dead animal with its skin still on.

it's a virtue to rid yourself of anything that doesn't serve you.

i've never had a day of rest in my life.

i chase after you like a dog, leaving pieces of myself behind, and every time, you act like that's how it's supposed to be.

you don't take me seriously. i'm not a real person to you.

i can't play house anymore.

never say that name in front of me.

to you, other people are always the problem.

you can't reach a mutual understanding without spilling blood.

want to make fifty bucks?

the only way to really see a person is to lose everything you have in common.

you don't think we'll get caught?

our loyalty is to story, not reality.

just don't do anything that could result in a lawsuit or a tmz article, and you're fine.

i don't have the energy to keep up with your antics.

our most beloved delusion was that lying to each other was a kind of love.

speaking our fears aloud won't save us.

one day, the mask slipped. i haven't been able to wear it since.

i try not to think about my life at all.

a junkie can spot another junkie without a flashlight.

your voice reminds me of wool sweaters.

boundaries? i don't know her.

i'm just sick of doing the same goddamn thing every day.

you are obsessed with a projection that will never love you back.

think of me as a spiritually connected friend.

i know liars. you don't strike me as one.

you have iconically poor judgment.

has anyone ever told you about your past lives?

you're capable of tolerating a lot. frankly, more than you should.

friendship can be a slow burn. you don't have to consume it like a drink at last call.

i'll give you a clue. i work for myself.

you make me want to feel things again.

criticism is still a cousin of attention.

you don't have to pretend to like something just because i made it.

i know you crave being told what to do.

you don't have to settle for being a person things happen to.

you have desires. act on them.

bitch, does this look like an intro to philosophy seminar?

i thought i had quit you.

my favorite. how did you know?

i feel like my organs are cannibalizing each other.

how did i get here? that's not a rhetorical question. i'm actually asking.

i can't tell if i believe it, or if i'm making excuses for myself.

sometimes i wonder if it's healthy how much meaning you see in things.

you're always waiting for the universe to hurt you or to love you. usually in that order.

that's how it was in my family. reading the room was a survival skill.

where will all the animals go in the rapture?

a bunch of fuckups under one roof doesn't constitute a family.

my little saint.

time passes more slowly as a sober person.

you'd better not pull away from me now.

there's a russian proverb that goes, 'so much is ruined by saying it aloud'.

you wear your emotions like a name tag.

your resting face frightens me.

how are you both the most innocent and the most experienced person i've ever met?

i need you to just be here with me.

our dead deserve to see you happy.

i like the idea of being marked by you.

i don't know what i saw, but it was more than i wanted.

i know what i saw.

i can't tell which of the memories are real, if any.

i can't believe you're mine.

nobody warned me how terrifying it is to get what you want.

you're cute when you're freaked out.

sex is supposed to be unsettling.

there are things i need to atone for.

you can't go back like it's nothing.

i won't live in service of my dead's vision for me.

___ was a real person. a murder isn't a metaphor.

count five things you can see. four things you can touch. three things you can hear. two things you can smell. one thing you can taste.

banish one god, and you'll end up worshiping another.

i want to be with you, but i don't want to keep feeling like this.

you know everything about me, but you won't let me know you.

you aren't someone i can keep at a distance.

i've been reading about intergenerational curses.

resisting something isn't the same as not wanting it.

anything you say stays between us.

i can't decide if i like you.

most people only possess a third of the empathy they think they have.

will it get easier?

hope is a tricky thing: losing it is bad, but so is having too much.

i don't want the future to come. i have a bad feeling about it.

in cartoons, you don't start falling until you look down.

why are you here? where have you been?

how did you know i'd come looking for you?

you never asked what i was going through. you didn't want to know.

i didn't have the language for what was happening to me.

you were supposed to protect me.

there's a lot i don't remember. a lot i don't want to remember.

i wouldn't have looked for me, either.

we belong to ourselves now.

you know where i am, and i know where you are. maybe that's enough.

when i'm down, vigilante justice makes me feel better.

survival is provisional.

[cressidagrey]

New Pursuits - Chapter 2: Bathing

Summary:

The shadows decide that Azriel needs a hobby.

5 times when said hobby-related shenanigans didn’t end so well…and the one time where it may end up better than Azriel could ever have imagined.

Warnings:

Rhys bashing, the shadows steal some wine

(super pretty dividers thanks to @saradika)

If you want me to try another hobby, please do it another day , he requested under his breath, feeling about ready to splinter apart. The only thing I want is a bath and then my bed . 

Bath and then bed and then sleep…and then he didn’t need to think about today anymore. 

Summer had officially reached Velaris, leaving the city glowing in Sunlight…making Feyre think that having dinner outside as a picnic was a grand idea…

Quite frankly it had been lovely at the River Estate. 

If Feyre hadn’t invited Lucien along. And if Elain hadn’t for the very first time been hesitant but happy to accept his invitation for dinner. 

But Azriel could have dealt with that. It was fine. It was.  Until Rhys decided that he didn’t trust Azriel enough to do nothing and had instead slithered into his mind and kept the equivalent of a leash on him.

Maybe it should have amused him…it only pissed him off. 

Like he would have done anything. Like he…

Elain could make her own fucking decisions and clearly , he didn’t factor into them. Not anymore. 

And that was fine. 

Rhys didn’t need to…Rhys didn’t need to fight her battles for her.

So he kept an iron grip on his temper. And even more adamantium control of his shadows so they weren’t going to lash out and start an outright war, right there in Feyre’s garden.

The roses had just started to bloom, he didn’t want to destroy them. 

And then after dessert, he said his goodbyes, he forced a smile on his face and then he got to go to the House of Wind, closed the door behind himself…and let the shadows go, swarming around himself. 

Azriel was fucking done . 

He could hear a few wayward tendrils bitch to themselves like they were prone to be doing if they were furious about something… but Azriel didn’t even have it in himself to defend Rhys right now. 

So instead, he let the shadows help as he got rid of his shirt and unlaced his boots and rubbed a hand through his hair. 

Bath. Then bed. Then sleep. And for a few glorious hours, he wouldn’t need to talk to anybody. 

What if you don’t need to move from the bathtub? The shadows suggested suddenly. 

His eyebrows rose. He only had a few ideas of what kind of hobbies one could have in a bathtub and unless the shadows were going to give him a couple of rubber ducks to play with…they also weren’t in the habit of outright kidnapping people unless ordered. So…

Not that, Master. A trace of amusement in their voices. Well, you can do that too if you want to. You haven’t since…

Since Solstice probably. 

But he hadn’t…hadn’t really wanted to. 

He could hear the shadows start the water and he dragged himself into the bathing chamber only so that they wouldn’t start badgering him. 

The faint smell of lavender hung in the air. 

The bathtub was surrounded by candles. Azriel didn’t even want to know where the shadows had gotten these from. Or whatever they were pouring into the water that resulted in plenty of foam and bubbles. 

All in all, it was very…much not the baths he usually took. Then it was an in-and-out kind of thing, scrubbing himself down with whatever soap bar happened to be in the bathroom. 

This…This was… luxuriating. 

Still, he couldn’t help himself to ask: Not even a rubber duck? 

Seconds later, a bright yellow duck hit the water and Azriel couldn’t help but grin. Why not. 

So he slid into that hot water, hissing slightly when it touched his sensitive wings and took a deep breath as the shadows poured some lilac-coloured concoction into the water. 

The Morrigan takes baths, they told him excitedly. Years ago, that simple mention of Mor would have been enough to make him…happy. To make something warm and bright glow in his chest and to make him start to make ridiculous plans about how to seduce her that he had never acted on. He had known that…He had known that that wasn’t going to happen. 

But he hadn’t been able to tell that heart that. 

That’s nice for her, he responded softly. It was. Mor should have all the good things in the world. Mor should be happy. Even when that wasn't with him.

And then when he had finally gotten over it…of course, he needed to go for the next unavailable female. The next one of which he knew Rhys wasn’t going to be pleased with his feelings. 

Elain. 

Why did he even bother anymore?

Did you steal it from Mor? he asked, not really interested in the answer.

Sometimes his shadows could be…a bit…prickly. He still remembered a time, centuries ago, when after an especially bad fight with Cassian, they had made sure to hide Cassian’s favourite knife from him for the better part of a year . Cassian had laid it next to himself before falling asleep and the shadows had picked it up and hidden it every night in more and more ridiculous places. 

So if they stole it from Morrigan, it was the shadow's idea of a useless sort of punishment for some way that they thought Mor had wronged him. 

She won’t notice it missing. They responded easily. She doesn’t use anything lavender-scented anymore. 

Right. 

He had half a mind to admonish them because they couldn’t just go around stealing stuff they thought he would like…Which they had also done on more than one occasion. 

And then they appeared to put a crystal wine glass on the edge of the bathtub, decorated with Rhys’ Cypher and poured Azriel a glass of red wine. 

Now they were just being petty. 

He couldn’t help but start snorting with laughter at the whole situation.

There he was, in a bathtub, together with a rubber duck, surrounded by lavender-scented bubbles, candles, and a glass of wine the shadows had stolen from Rhysand’s wine cellar. 

The High Lord has more than enough wine, they responded defensively. Yeah, he did. Still. 

Azriel just snorted another time, before he took that crystal glass, taking a deep sip. 

Oh, even a nice vintage. One of the most expensive wines. Only used for special occasions. 

Love you too, he told the shadows that seemed pleased with their work and he leaned back in the tub, letting the warmth seep into tired muscles. 

Another sip of wine…A taste of sweetness…the scent of lavender…

It was nearly sensual. 

He thought back to the shadow's words…

For just a moment, he wondered if he should. He could. He wasn’t beholden to anybody. 

If he wanted to go out and fuck half of Velaris…he could. If he wanted to pleasure himself…he could do that. 

And then he thought back to these words on Solstice, still engraved in his brain…and any want evaporated like it had never been there in the first place. 

He didn’t want to. He didn’t want to touch himself and think of Mor or Elain or any other female. He didn’t want to go to Rita’s and find himself somebody to share his bed for a night. He didn't want to go to a Pleasure Hall and pay to fuck a willing female. He didn’t want to be touched by anybody. 

You are supposed to relax, not brood, Master, the shadows said quietly.  One tendril came to wrap itself around his shoulder and he relaxed. He could deal with their touch. They weren’t out to hurt him. He knew that. That touch was just simple comfort...they just tried to make it better. 

And he was craving that. 

I’m sorry, he apologised. They were just trying to take care of him. In their own way. 

The shadows huffed but dropped a jar in his hands. 

What’s that? 

A Mud Mask. You are supposed to put that on your face.

Oh, fuck it. Why not. So he screwed it open and took the grey, slimy mud in there to put it all over his face. If the shadows thought he should do it…what could go wrong? 

What else? He asked next and quickly enough they offered him a whole range of tonics for his hair. 

Did you steal that from Mor as well? He asked drily as he selected one of them to pour over his unruly dark waves. He never usually bothered with it. But then, he had also been known to cut his own hair when it got too long for his liking…or he went to Rosehall and visited his mother and let her do it. 

She liked it when she got to dote on him when they both could pretend his childhood hadn’t been ripped from both of them.

He couldn’t help but feel guilty every time he went to visit, that he couldn’t be a better son to her, that he couldn't stand her hugs for longer than a few minutes, that he couldn't tell her how much she meant to him. 

But it stuck in the back of his throat. 

And so he wrote her letters and had the shadows deliver them to her, and he made sure that she always had enough money and he went there in the winter and hacked up all the wood for her stove so that she didn’t need to worry about that…he tried to take care off her. As well as he could. 

As well as she let him. 

No.  The General, the shadows responded easily. He has a lot of those…More than even Lady Death. 

He couldn’t help but bite back a grin at that little tidbit of information. He had lines that he didn’t cross for his family and friends, secrets that shadows found out about but never talked to him about unless he asked…but sometimes he did find out something about one of them that was so charming and silly and innocuous that he couldn’t help but laugh about it to himself. 

He washed out that tonic and the mud from his face and washed himself with the bar of soap the shadows provided…

You know what? Definitely one of your better ideas. My skin and my hair have never been so soft, he told them.  Though I don’t think I want to do this every evening. 

Still, maybe once every few months…The wine itself made it worth it. 

Granted, he may lost every bit of his dignity, when he nearly face-planted on the floor, slipping on the wet tiles and if the shadows hadn’t rushed out to steady him, he would have gotten a broken nose and a black eye for his trouble

Master!

I really hope you never tell anybody about that. 

[waynes-multiverse]

Polaris – Chapter 8

Series Summary: When Beau Arlen moved to Montana, he left behind a past he wasn’t proud of. But when a series of murders requires the FBI’s help, Sheriff Arlen‘s ghosts come back to haunt him one by one. With a wrong turn waiting at every crossroads, it’s hard to make the right choices and find his way back home – back to you.

Pairing: Beau Arlen x FBI Agent!Reader

Warnings: 18+, fluff, angst, serial killer, Diane is her own warning, Grey's Anatomy & alcoholism, uhm... hard to explain the last one without spoilering. You'll be fine 😂

Word Count: 5.5k

A/N: Oh boy, I'll save you guys long explanations. Life got in the way, so let's just all be glad we're back here 😅 Some of you brilliant sleuths already caught breadcrumbs of my scheming in the last part, so here's The One You've Been Waiting For...

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Tag List

Chapter 8: Chemical Bonds

“Where is she?”

Your boot soles thudded on the floor as you dashed inside the station, your questioning look aimed at Jenny, who leaned against her desk with crossed arms and a stern brow. Beau was hot on your heels, just jogging in behind you. You practically raced him from the car across the parking lot.

“She’s in Interrogation Room 3,” Jenny informed you.

“Is she cuffed?” Beau asked, his voice carrying a hint of anger caused by concern. He had a whole car ride to the department to rile himself up and let his head spin with reasons. None of them soothing; all of them terrifying.

Jenny shook her head. “No. She’s not officially under arrest and hasn’t confessed yet, either. ‘Sides, she willingly came in and just all too happily sat down. She’s clearly playing a game. I’d be careful.”

“Alright, thanks,” Beau said and looked at you. “How you wanna do this?”

“Let’s just go in and talk to her. See what she has to say and what angle she’s playing,” you suggested, and Beau agreed with a nod, both of you falling into step as you headed down the hallway.

“My favorite couple. There you are,” Diane greeted you with a smirk that could only be described as lunacy as soon as you and Beau walked into the interrogation room. “Hope I didn’t disturb your evening.”

“Not at all,” you replied with an easy smile and took a seat across from her, Beau settling down right next to you and leaning back in his chair. “What can we do for you, Diane?”

“Well, I figured I come here before you call in the cavalry. There’s no need for all this drama. I have a feeling you two have enough of that,” she quipped and grinned devilishly at the both of you.

“So, you waltzed in here to confess to twenty-four murders?” Beau arched a disbelieving eyebrow at her.

“Oh, nice try. But I won’t confess to anything until you two have told me a little more about yourself,” Diane announced cheekily. “You talk – I talk. My rules. My game. Let's be honest. You don't have anything to nail me down. Zero, really. You two need this. I'm giving you a win, Sheriff.”

Beau and you shared a look. Neither of you liked this, but you supposed you had to play along if it led to a confession. You nodded at Diane. “Fine, what d’you wanna know?”

Diane grinned in triumphant satisfaction and folded her arms on the metal table, curiously leaning forward. “Look, I think it’s cute you two found each other… after divorce and death, of course. ‘Cause who likes a cheater, right?” she posed theoretically, her smirk getting wider. “I guess, for me at least, it’s just hard to believe there’ve never been any feelings before that. Seems kinda odd to me.”

You smiled wryly. “Well, for me at least, it seems kinda odd and, frankly, hard to believe some psychotic bitch would murder over twenty innocent people just because her husband was a cheating dirtbag. Yet, here we are.”

“Here we are indeed, Agent,” Diane snarked with a pleased smile. “And I’d be wary throwing the word ‘innocent’ around so carelessly. After all, just look at you two. I mean, I’m not saying you’ve planned this little hot love affair, but c'mon! What, no lingering looks? No fluttering hearts, dirty thoughts, or wistful what-ifs?”

You remained cool and held your gaze stern. No quiver of a lip, no twitch of an eye, no flinch of a muscle betrayed you. But Beau must’ve signaled something when Diane’s eyes drifted to him. She tilted her head with a delighted sneer forming on her face. Your heart halted in your chest. You knew she’d locked in on a target like a lioness on the prowl.

“Whoop, Sheriff Arlen, do you have something to tell me? You seem awfully quiet and… shifty,” Diane prodded the tip of her metaphorical knife into his ribcage, prying it open just enough to see inside. “If her husband was your partner, you must feel at least a little guilty for fucking his wife as soon as he was six-feet-under. Did you have feelings for her when they were still married? You did, didn’t you? I wonder what he’d say if he were still alive.”

“Okay, enough,” you snapped and drew a line in the sand, noticing how Beau withdrew more and more upon her words. She was getting to him and enjoying it. “Neither of us has done anything wrong, got it?”

Diane chuckled amusedly. “Sheriff Arlen, you should learn from your girlfriend here. She’s better at acting than you are. Or is it lying?” Her questioning gaze turned to you.

“What d’you want, huh?” you prompted with stern annoyance, hoping to take some heat off of Beau. “You want some weird confession, so you can throw one of us into a bunker?”

She shrugged nonchalantly. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Agent. We’re just having a friendly chat among colleagues, getting to know each other.” She grinned, her icy gray eyes sparkling with devilish joy. She leaned closer to Beau, circling in on him. She could smell he was close to a breaking point and aimed her sledgehammer at him. “Tell me, Sheriff, were you happy when your partner died? I mean, you must’ve been. She was finally free and all yours for the taking. Is that why your marriage crumbled so soon after his death? Why you followed her all the way to Mexico, leaving your family behind? Be honest, did you lead her husband into that warehouse on purpose?”

“Shut up!” Beau yelled and bristled, his voice trembling with anger as did every single muscle of his. He jumped up from his seat and kicked the chair roughly against the wall before storming out and slamming the door loudly behind him.

Shocked, you rose from your seat as well and threw Jenny a worried look through the one-way mirror. As you followed Beau outside, you could still hear Diane’s heinous laugh.

November 2020

‘¿Recuerdas que en tu infancia creías en cuentos de hadas? En la fantasia de lo que podría ser tu vida. Tu vestido blanco, un príncipe azul que te llevaría en sus brazos a un castillo sobre una colina…’

A knock on your door rattled you and snapped your attention away from the small, old TV in your room. The image was grainy at best, and you were sure the television itself was bought sometime in the early 2000s. Yet, you still managed to hook it up to your laptop and stream a few shows. Drinking and watching television was all you had for entertainment down here whenever you were on the lay-low and had some time off.

Oh, and there was the crying, of course.

You hurriedly blew your nose in one of the tissues in your hand and wiped the tears out of your eyes. Bolting into the bathroom first, you did a quick check of your appearance in the stained, wonky mirror. Well, good enough. Who were you trying to impress? You were a grieving widow. People expected you to look like shit.

Beau blinked at you as the door opened. He offered you a friendly smile, although he could tell you had cried again. You never admitted it, always telling him you were fine and brushing away any and all of his concerns. But your red and puffy eyes were hard to hide and even harder to ignore when he stopped by your room at night. It broke his heart every single time.

“Hey, I know you haven’t eaten dinner yet, darlin’,” he said and tried not to sound too scolding. Since Randy’s death you’d been basically on a grief diet, although you seemed to be more willing to eat since you’d come to Mexico. But Beau had taken it upon himself to ensure your stomach was always full.

“Uh, thanks, but I’m not hungry,” you said quietly and were already keen to close the door to get rid of him again. Sometimes it worked. Most times it didn’t.

Beau frowned and already slid his boot between the door and its jamb. “You know I’m not leaving till you ate. And since you’re being particularly difficult tonight, I’m just gonna have to watch you till that whole bag is empty. Now, trust me. This ain’t fun for me, either. Don’t make me spoon-feed you and do airplane noises. It’s been a while, but I have experience in that field. You wanna hear my lecture about your essential vitamins and minerals again?”

You sighed dramatically and were close to a whine. “Beau, I’m really not in the mood right now. Can you please just–” You stopped when you noticed the man wasn’t even listening to you. With a curiously furrowed brow, he cocked his head and leaned inside your room with a skillful weight shift, his green eyes focusing on the TV.

‘Vamos a domir a tu casa esta noche.’

‘¿Qué?’

‘¿Por qué siempre dormirmos en mi casa? ¿O no tienes una?’

“What are you watching?” Beau had fully stepped inside your room, and you knew your probability of kicking him out again sunk by the second. You sighed once more and closed the door behind you two.

“Grey’s Anatomy in Spanish. I already know the episodes, so I figured I could learn a little. I already forgot most of it from school,” you replied.

“Huh. Never watched this show.” Yet, he sat down on the foot of your bed and seemed hooked. His eyes were glued to the screen, brow lightly creased above the bridge of his nose that showed his interest. If you had popcorn, you would’ve handed it to him.

You rolled your eyes a little but smiled nonetheless. Randy had been the same. He’d teased you for watching till he caught one episode and was immediately enthralled. Afterward, you weren’t allowed to watch a single episode without him anymore.

“You wanna watch with me?” You grabbed the bag of food and crawled onto your bed, leaning against the headboard. You quickly discarded the tissues that were strewn all over your mattress. Luckily, he hadn’t noticed them yet, or you would’ve received a look full of worry and pity.

“Sure.” Beau nodded and smiled at you over his shoulder, happy you had decided to eat, after all. “So, what’s this show about?”

“A hospital in Seattle. But honestly, everyone’s just sleeping with everyone…”

It took a while till you had explained all the intricacies of each relationship to him. Fortunately, this was only the first season. He gasped when you informed him the show had seventeen of it – so far. By the end of the episode, he had joined you by the headboard, sitting next to you as you shared the remaining tacos.

‘Me gusta el helado de café, whisky de malta de una sola destilería, de vez en cuando un buen habano.’

“Ah! Now that’s a home,” Beau declared with a broad and longing smile, raising his beer bottle to the TV. “You know, I’ve always wanted an Airstream trailer exactly like this.”

“Uh-huh. Un remolque.”

His brow quirked. “Is that Spanish for trailer?”

“Yes, he just said it. You need to pay attention,” you chided playfully and took a sip from your beer.

“Hey, look, I’m just glad I can keep up with who’s sleeping with who, alright? Don’t need to add Spanish vocabulary to the mix,” Beau quipped, making you giggle. “I actually almost bought a trailer like that when me and Carla first got married.”

You grinned knowingly. “Lemme guess, Carla said no and almost shot you?”

Beau snorted a laugh. “Ha! Yeah, she definitely came close that time. But Emily was already on the way, so I guess it would’ve been impractical with a baby.”

“Smart choice.”

As your eyes traveled back to the TV, Beau’s gaze landed on you. He watched as your cheeks moved when you laughed with your whole heart. How your pink, full lips sealed around the bottle opening whenever you sipped on your beer. How your shimmering hair fell into your face in waves as you leaned forward and hugged your knees. Lingering looks.

“You wanna open a bottle of tequila with me and watch another episode?” you asked with a mischievous glint in your eyes as you looked back at him over your shoulder.

“Hm? Oh, uh, yeah. Let’s do that,” he agreed, swallowing lightly. A part of him almost felt caught in his shameless staring. But he was willing to do anything as long as it kept you from crying yourself to sleep for another night.

Jumping up from the bed, you sauntered over to the mini bar and bent down, hauling a bottle of tequila from the small fridge you’d stored in there earlier. Beau tried not to stare at the curve of your ass and how tightly those dark blue jeans hugged it. But he couldn’t control his heart as it undeniably accelerated and thumped loudly against its prison. Fluttering hearts.

Four episodes and two Margarita pitchers in, you stretched with a yawn, barely able to keep your eyes open. You glanced at Beau with an amused smile as he was still transfixed by the TV and heavily engaged in the show.

“I’m beat. You mind if we turn in?” you checked and laughed a little when his green eyes blinked at you in surprise.

“Oh, uh, sure. I’ll head back to my room,” he said, nodding. “You, uh, wanna do this every night, maybe? I mean, it’s not like there’s much else to do here… We could hang out and binge-watch, as the kids say. Netflix and chill.”

You snorted. “Beau, that’s not what you think it means…”

His brow furrowed. “Well, what does it mean?”

“Sex,” you said bluntly and watched his mouth open and close. It was rare to render that man speechless.

Beau pursed his lips, his cheeks redder than the desert sand. “Yeah, uh, no Netflix and chill, then.” He cleared his throat a couple of times while you stifled your laughs. “Can I just finish this episode before I go?”

You giggled, getting up from the bed. “Sure. Knock yourself out. I need some bathroom time before, anyways.”

As you sauntered into the small, dingy bathroom, you briefly glanced back and saw Beau’s focus was already back on the sexy doctors. You laughed a little, shaking your head before you began to wash your face and slip into your pajamas, which were just a pair of sweat shorts and an old college shirt of Randy’s. Go Cougars!

Unbeknownst to you, Beau’s gaze didn’t remain on the TV for long. At first, he only caught a glimpse of you from his periphery in the bathroom mirror through the cracked door. For a moment, he stared, unable to tear his eyes away as you shed out of your shirt. But when your bra came off as well, he averted his eyes shamefully back to the TV. His mind, however, still wandered, incapable of shaking the image of you, various unholy ideas gathering for a villainous summit. Dirty thoughts.

‘Así que, elígeme a mí. Escógeme a mí. Ámame a mí…’

“Still hooked, huh?” Amused, you arched a brow at him as you strolled out of the bathroom and saw he was still enchanted by the magic of dramatic television.

“He’s gonna go back to the cheatin’ ex, isn’t he?” Beau asked without looking at you. He sat on the bed with arms crossed and his brow scrunched.

You pressed your lips together as you smothered another laugh. “Oh, no spoilers from me, but it’s a bit of a ride. And we haven’t even gotten to Dr. Caliente yet,” you said, grinning.

You waited a moment for Beau to catch the hint that you wanted to go to bed. But soon you realized it wasn’t going to happen. The man had done a full deep dive into that show, and there was no way of pulling him back out.

“You know, you can stay and keep watching if you want to. I don’t mind. I’ve been sleeping with the TV on, anyways,” you said.

His gaze met yours, brow finally rising with realization. “Oh, uh, sorry. No, I can go. Let you catch some–” His eyes wandered back to the TV before he shook his head and tried to refocus. He blushed. “Sorry.”

“It’s really okay. You can stay. I don’t care,” you assured him with a soft smile and climbed under the covers, resting your head on the pillow. You switched off the lamp by your bedside table, the blue glow of the screen remaining the only source of light.

“Maybe just this episode,” he mumbled, his shoulders deflating as he sunk back into a more comfortable position again.

“This is nice,” you noted with a blissful sigh and closed your eyes. “I kinda hate being alone.”

Beau watched you as you peacefully fell asleep, the TV suddenly forgotten. For once you didn’t cry yourself to sleep. Tears, nightmares, and loneliness gone. And he wondered – what it would be like if he watched you fall asleep every night. What if he was still there in the morning. What if he could hold you as you wore his shirt. Then, the guilt came swiftly like the rising tide and washed those thoughts away. Wistful what-ifs.

“What the hell happened in there?” you hissed as quietly as possible as you caught up with Beau in the lowly lit hallway of the station. Luckily, the other cops had enough sense to stay away and keep their distance while the two of you hashed things out.

Beau dragged a hand over his face, kept his palm clasped on his mouth as he paced in a circle. You were surprised he hadn’t punched a wall yet, judging by the tension in his shoulders.

“You can’t let her get to you,” you reminded him gently, your face softening when you noticed how distraught and upset he really was. What Diane said to him must’ve cut deep.

“You know it’s not true, right? What she said in there? I-I didn’t kill him. I wasn’t… Fuck!” His eyes were brimming with desperate tears, his breathing quick. You could hear his heart race from feet away.

“Of course not. She’s a deranged psychopath,” you emphasized, although you didn’t understand why you had to spell it out for him. He already knew that. “Why are you so upset? Don’t let her get under your skin. She’s thriving off it like a hyena.”

“I know. I just-…” He took a deep breath. “What if she’s right?”

Confused, your brow furrowed. “About what?”

“Me. Us,” he said, not making necessarily more sense. “What if it’s true, huh?” He blinked at you and swallowed harshly, completely out of breath. “Look, uhm… I-I don’t know how to say this. I’ve never admitted it before, but recently, things have become a lot clearer to me…” He paused for a moment, rubbing his mouth with two fingers before he found your eyes again. “I’ve always had feelings for you, you know? There’s always been this… pull. Even back then. Since the first time I met you.”

You inhaled sharply, your lungs incapable of fitting more air as you held your breath for several heartbeats. “Beau, it’s okay.”

He shook his head. “I don’t know if it is,” he said. The tortured tone of his voice pained you. “I mean, I would’ve never done anything. You need to know that, okay? I would’ve never hurt you or Randy. I never would’ve come between you two.”

“I know that,” you assured him. You wanted to take his hands in yours, touch him, hold him. But you knew it would only make the turmoil of emotions worse instead of better, like pouring oil into the fire.

“But sometimes, just for a blink of an eye, I caught myself wondering, you know? What it would be like to be with you… Hell, I wondered all the damn time. Even on your freaking wedding day,” he confessed. “That’s the kind of horrible person I am. And now, that I am with you and so fucking happy, I feel guilty every time that things worked out the way they did. ‘Cause it does feel like I’m happy that I’m with you, and he’s not.”

You let out a heavy sigh through your nose and finally took his hands in yours, intertwining your fingers as you squeezed them. “I know all of that,” you said, his brow rising in bewildered surprise. “In terms of being honest… I guess a part of me always knew you felt this way, but I never let myself go there. And yeah, considering everything, it’s only natural to feel guilty. But you’ve still done nothing wrong. We’ve done nothing wrong. You can’t control how you feel. Neither can I. And I’m not saying everything always was exactly right, and we did everything by the book, but I loved Randy with all my heart. There wasn’t room for anyone else… And now, I love you. But it was never at the same time, you know?”

Beau pulled you into his arms and held you tightly, kissing your crown. “No, I know. Trust me. I know that part.”

“I love you, okay?” You tiptoed to claim his lips, putting your whole heart into the kiss. You didn’t want to hurt him, but you wouldn’t lie, either. “Diane doesn’t get to use that against us. Everything that happened, everything we’ve done right or wrong – that’s between you and me… and maybe God at some point. But surely not that psychotic bitch in there. She’s doesn’t know what we think or feel, so don’t give her ammunition, alright?”

Beau nodded and pecked your lips, his hands caressing your cheeks. “I love you, too.”

Jenny cleared her throat as she carefully snuck up on you. “You guys okay?”

You gave her a soft smile. “Yeah. What d’you got?”

“Well, since Diane walked in and became our prime suspect, the new DA on the case signed a search warrant for her property, office, car, and all her devices,” Jenny informed you.

“Alright, take Pops with you and head to her house first. Call me if you find somethin’ we can burn that witch with,” Beau ordered, putting his sheriff hat back on, jumping into the saddle full-throttle.

“On it, boss.” Jenny gave him a resolute nod and hurried down the hall.

January 2021

“¡Feliz navidad!”

As you opened the motel room door, you found Beau on your doorstep with a giant grin on his freckled face and not one but two bottles of tequila. One in each hand that he joyfully wiggled in the air.

You chuckled, shaking your head at him. “Christmas was two weeks ago, payaso.”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t here, so merry belated Christmas,” he retorted and strolled right in as you held the door open for him. “Can’t believe you stayed here and didn’t go home for Christmas.”

“Meh, wasn’t in the mood to be placated and pitied by my whole family. I know they all mean well, but if I get one more concerned head tilt and a ‘How are you holding up, sweetie?’, tendré que apuñalar a alguien,” you huffed.

Beau narrowed his eyes at you, slightly amused. “I only understood the word ‘stab’, but I think I get the gist,” he joked, laughing. “I see your Spanish is getting better. So, how was your depressing and lonely Christmas without your family?”

“Nice guilt trip, asshole,” you retorted playfully and scoffed. “Great, actually. I went out with the guys from our team who stayed here, too. Got insanely drunk on some Christmas cocktail Ignacio created. And some hot guy taught me how to Salsa dance. He got a little handsy towards the end, which, granted, is the most action I’ve seen in five months, so…”

Beau’s lips thinned as he weighted your words. “Huh, so to recap: you got wasted with five guys in a dingy bar and second base with some stranger. Sounds like Christmas-y fun.”

You frowned slightly, watching him open one of the bottles of tequila. “Alright, there were no bases being hit, Judge Judy. How was your Christmas?”

“Not as fun, I can tell you that much,” Beau muttered and gulped some tequila straight from the bottle.

Your nose scrunched, lips pursed. “You and Carla got into it again?”

“Oh yeah, big time,” he replied. “I’ve only been home twice, including Christmas. You’d think she’d be more happy to see me, but instead I get yelled at for not being home more and criticized like I’m some drunk.”

Your narrowed look drifted to the bottle of liquor tightly clasped in his hands as he plopped down on the bed with a sigh. “Well, you know, not really making an argument for yourself there, gaucho.”

He scowled at you. “Who’s side are you on?”

“No one’s!”

“What, you think I’m some alcoholic?”

You pursed your lips and hesitated briefly. “No… But I do think you have a slight issue with... occurrence and... volume.”

He sent you a small glare. “That’s the same thing, just different words.”

“Look, I get it. It’s not like I’ve been a healthy example these past months,” you said, hoping a softer approach would work. You sat down next to him on the bed. “It’s been hard for all of us. Grief wrecks you. But you have a family to think about. Maybe it’s time you go home… for good.”

His brow drew into creases, green eyes drilling a hole into you. “Do you want me to go?”

Your lips parted for a moment, reluctant to answer as his question hung in the air between you two. “It’s not about what I want. You should do what’s best for you.”

Beau considered your words, his head bobbing. “I wanna stay. I need to see this through. For Randy,” he declared, although it was only partially true. Another part of him stayed for you. There was an electrostatic force, invisible to the naked heart and irresistible to the free mind. A force that kept him in your orbit and bonded his atoms with yours.

Maybe you should’ve told him to go home, been more insistent on making him leave, clearer on what was best. But truthfully and selfishly so, you liked having him around. He was your constant, your little piece of home in a strange land and an even stranger new life. And you didn’t want to navigate this new life alone.

“You sure?” you still asked for the sake of your conscience, but the determination on his face over his decision made your heart sing in relief.

“I’m sure. Just wish things were easier…”

Walking back into the interrogation room, you smiled victoriously as you slapped a folder full of evidence on the metal table in front of Diane. The deputies had found “a buttload” in Poppernak’s words.

Regardless, you knew Diane wasn’t stupid. If the deputies found something, she had wanted you to find it. For some reason, she wanted to be arrested. But you didn’t care what sick game she was playing. Cuffing her meant there’d be no more bodies, no more victims.

She gave you a titillated sneer, glimpsing at the file in front of her before finding your eyes again. She bit her lip, smirking. “Oooh, lookey, what you found there,” she mocked.

“It’s over, Diane. You’re under arrest for multiple murders among a plethora of other charges. But you already know that,” you told her firmly.

Beau’s features were stone-cold. He was pissed, radiating that fire burning inside of him for miles. He made the Yellowstone supervolcano look harmless. “Stand up and turn around. Hands behind your back.”

Diane did as told without any protest. She grinned at you the whole time when Beau manhandled her roughly into her handcuffs, bending her over the metal table as he read her the Miranda rights. You couldn’t shake the eerie feeling in your stomach, though. You had your killer, but somehow this felt far from over. You knew she had an ace up her sleeve and was waiting to lay it on the table.

“But we were just getting started,” she snarled. “Aren’t we having fun?”

“Fun usually looks a little different for me,” Beau retorted and forced her back onto the chair as soon as she was cuffed.

“I bet it does, Sheriff,” she purred with a flirtatious glimmer in her gray eyes. “I think I’ll wait with my confession till tomorrow. Let you two lovebirds enjoy your last night together.”

Beau and you shared a wary look at that. But deep in your heart, you knew there was nothing that could tear you apart. And you hoped Beau knew it, too.

“Look, bitch, I don’t care what you think you’ve planned, but it won’t drive a wedge between us. All it’s gonna do is piss us off more, got it?” you threatened and leaned forward on the table with an angrily knit brow.

Diane chuckled. “Confident. I always liked you, Agent. Aren’t you even a little curious what I’ve got in store for you?”

“No,” you replied without hesitation. You looked up at Beau and rose from your seat. “Let’s go. She’s not gonna talk tonight.��

Beau nodded, putting his hand on the small of your back, leading you outside the door. And just as your hand reached the handle, Diane decided to play her ace of hearts.

“It’s about your husband,” she noted innocently. You could hear the satisfaction in her voice as your whole body stiffened, muscles freezing. Beau felt it, too. His heart began to race. “Dead husband, of course. I always forget that part. Silly me.”

Beau’s hand on your back gave you a soft caress, telling you it was okay to turn around and find out. You didn’t want to care. And most of all, you didn’t want Beau to see that you did. But as you met his forest-green eyes, they were full of understanding.

“What about him?” you asked bravely, your chin held high as you faced her.

Her grin widened before her gaze wandered to Beau. “It’s in my pocket. Mind giving me a hand, Sheriff? You can even touch. I know you have a hard time keeping those hands to yourself,” she taunted.

You scoffed exasperatedly, rolling your eyes. “I’ll do it.”

“Oh, c’mon, Agent. Let me have a little fun. I’m about to be felt up by enough women,” she quipped.

You ignored her, hauling her to her feet by her elbow and holding her in place as your other hand dived into her back pocket. Your brow furrowed as your fingers identified a small plastic stick. Your frown deepened as you pulled out a familiar thumb drive. It wasn’t the first one you had received from her.

Twenty-five.

Had she taken another victim before giving herself up? What was so special about this one? What did it have to do with Randy? Did he ever cheat on you? Did Beau know?

You found that quite unbelievable. In fact, you knew there was no chance in hell that was true. But that did nothing to ease your conscience.

Your hand trembled in sync with your palpitating heartbeats. You tried to steady it as best as you could and keep your jumpy nerves in line as you slipped the small drive into its designated outlet on your laptop, not wanting the team that had gathered around and behind you to catch on to your unnerving emotions.

As you clicked on the MP4 file, your heart came to a standstill when a video popped open in the player. Pressing Play, you sucked in a breath and then forgot to breathe at all.

It only took you a glimpse to die inside.

“Oh God…”

It felt like suffocating. Like jumping off a steep seaside cliff and drowning. Your body hit the ocean rocks; your heart split open.

It only took Beau a second longer to catch on. The horror in your voice had put him on immediate alert before he recognized the figure on the screen, too.

As your head spun and your stomach turned upside down, you couldn’t find any words and bolted outside. You needed fresh air. You needed to breathe. And you needed to goddamn puke.

“Beau, what’s going on? Who’s the guy on the video? You know him?” Jenny asked, her gaze worriedly flashing in the direction you had fled.

Beau swallowed the thick lump in his throat, forcing the name out that had haunted him all those past years. “It’s Randy.”

Chapter 9: Marooned – NOVEMBER 29

Dun, dun, dun... The dead have risen in Montana! This is where it becomes a Walking Dead crossover (at least if you ask Donno 😂). Did you call the little resurrection action beforehand? 👀 Lemme know all your wild thoughts in the comments! 💭

So happy to be back with y'all! 🤍

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Everything Beau Arlen: @snowayumi

Polaris Series: @corruptedcruiser @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx

[taureantarot]

Pick A Card

What negative force have you overcome?

(Piles 1-3, bottom to top) Using “Roast Iconic”, “Moonology” and “Golden Mantra” decks.

1) Cherry Wine by Hozier

“Get Fucked, Influencer, Feral, Legend”

Bottom of the deck says “Red Flag”

Oh, you’ve been a problem. Like Natalia Kills, “That girl is a problem, problem, problem”. You’ve snapped on people who have siphoned your patience and hope for their own cruelty; I sense really intense bullying and hatred here; you got some jealous bitches on your back and you’ve set that B.S. good two-shoes record straight. They say only god can judge us, and god is PROUD. Your behavior was entirely unacceptable and uncalled for but it was exactly what was coming for ‘em. That’s all I know. You did good. You will influence people around you to do the same, you’ve made changes in your circle without even knowing, and you ARE looking up to, but won’t be just as easily accepted. It’s the price of being a boss bitch. Whine to your therapist about it while rejoicing over freedom from energy vamps.

Don’t Let Your Past Hold You Back — I know you’re in some very big shoes in a very big way. You got to push forward. You got to take up space. You’ve made yourself known, don’t let your past cycles with these bullies (I get that very strongly) suppress your spirit. You hold the reins and you have more support than you know. I love you. You have love waiting for you to grasp on your end, too. Cherry Wine is important. But great fucking job. Be a bitch.

2) this is me trying by Taylor Swift

“Feral, Unicorn, Love + Gaslight, Privilege, Narcissist, Legend”

I see someone who isn’t at rock bottom, sorry. But you are no less worthy of empathy. I see you are working against years of abuse. Narcissistic feeding on your heart, your dreams. You haven’t been a good person, frankly. But you were not drinking from a good well of wisdom. Perhaps you have generational wealth or are a WASP as they say, no judgement here, but you ARE a legend for fighting back against that programming. Spirit is proud. I see this could be a very toxic relationship or set of relationships, cutting people off (space between by Sia), you’ve made a rift in a home base. But you are special. You ARE worth it. Be YOU. Not what is wanted of you.

You And Your Loved Ones Are Safe / Conclusions Are Within Reach — It’s painful now but this is necessary evil of gaining respect. You will thank yourself in good time. Just heal for now. I think it was an ugly conflict. It isn’t over, your family loves you. Whoever that is. But this was necessary.

3) Believer by Imagine Dragons

“Red Flag, Bitch, Snack, Vampire in reverse, Get Fucked, Stay In Your Lane, Fashion Witch”

I see someone proved “magic” is real. You had enemies. Real, genuine, bad juju sent your way. Possible abusive relationship here. Second song is “River” by Bishop Briggs, so this is definitely a relationship. You SURVIVED, bitch. You killed that fucker. I can feel it in my gut burning. Your rage, your hunger, your survival. You look good, you are what you said you were. I think someone wanted a piece and got burned playing with the wrong one. It wasn’t very respectable, you weren’t kind, but they were evil. You fucked around and found out about a crazy mofo on the other side of the coin. STOP PLAYING WITH YOUR LIFE. You aren’t the witch you need to be to play with evil. You’re lucky you’re protected. And don’t start with me. ;)

Hold Your Vision /Believe In The Impossible — Your energy will gain more ground. You will find love. You will be happy. Don’t be ashamed to grieve, but what you truly deserve is on its way. God says so. For now, don’t hurt yourself anymore. That’s your only job. Forget that cute witchcraft and learn some shit. You’re a badass. Don’t make it go to waste.

Last song “We Found Love” by Rihanna.

Bonus message for my new followers.

“Crush on You (feat. Lil’ Cease) — Remix” by Lil Kim

MY HEART IS OPEN TO GIVE AND RECEIVE UNCONDITIONAL LOVE

Celebrate and welcome the suitors that are coming correct. Just have fun. And follow, go to my ko-fi ;), dm requests. We both know you liked what you saw. Happy to serve. I’m the real deal. Stick around, and have some fun after your win. Don’t be ashamed to care for yourself. Love freely.

“Smuckers (feat. Lil Wayne and Kanye West)” — by Tyler the Creator

[honey-flustered]

You’re Not The Boss Of Me (MDNI +18)

Dom!Eddie Munson x Bratty!Sub!Reader

Summary: After showing your true colors to Eddie, you use this to your advantage, being as bratty as you can to get a rise out Eddie. But understand that how ever mean you are to him only allows him to be just as mean…maybe even more.

A/N: this was in my drafts for some long and now im just deciding to release it even though it’s not exactly what how I wanted it. I’m continuing to have issues revising my work over and over and never publishing so i figured i’d let this go. First part is in reader’s POV then of course goes in second POV. A sequel to Come Again

Word Count: 2.8k+

Warnings: smut, established relationship, hinted bully!eddie, mean!reader, mean!eddie, dom/sub dynamics, fake nice!reader, panty fetish, mutual masturbation, finger sucking, cum eating, handjob, some ass/body worship, reader and eddie are in love but f*d up, tattoo artist!eddie, reader has piercings (nipple play)

Power comes in all forms and positions. Even if you’re a submissive. You’d probably look at someone like me, seemingly so sweet and docile, and think “Awww, she doesn’t have not an evil bone in her body.” But that’s what we, “good girls”, want you to do: underestimate us. That’s what makes us so powerful because eventually we get what we want.

Here’s where I was able to exercise my power with my dear boyfriend, Eddie Munson. Two weeks ago, I was able to break through to his innocent act with me. Call it great minds thinking alike but we’ve both held up this facade of being good when around each other because of the shame to act on our most carnal desires. But quiet mouths don’t get fed and, frankly, I had enough. So I called him out on his shit.

“You’re vanilla as FUCK.” I said.

And that moment truly became the beginning of what’s become of our relationship today:

Two sick fucks who enjoy getting a rise out of each other.

—————

Oh, the power you get from being a pampered brat in public and treated like a whore in bed. It was the best of both worlds and Eddie sure knows how to treat a lady. With him, you could truly be the mean bitch you’d hoped to be. Of course, this was only behind closed doors as you still could see the benefits of being a good girl in everyone else’s eyes. Only Eddie got to see your true nature. You’re a bitch and you made it evident that you didn’t care and it actually got you off being one to Eddie. This was fine, though. He loved it, too. In return, he gets a succubus disguised as a sweet beauty in his arms to dominate as he pleases.

You’d like to think the power’s evenly distributed amongst the two of you. You’re both unfiltered, whorish, and wicked. It was the perfect symbiotic relationship of sexual energy.

At times, you feel like Eddie’s giving you a run for your money as his wickedness proves to outweigh your own. The annoying pervert. He really likes to tease past the point of suffering and what’s worse…he still hasn’t fucked you yet. You were so sure that he’d give in by now after the nights you’ve shared but it never goes beyond second base. Even when you’ve put on your ‘bitch girl pants’ and laid down some rules.

Oh, well. If you don’t get to drain his balls, the least you can do is drain his pockets.

“What do you think of this dress?” You say, twirling around in the mirror in front of you. Currently, you were both in the dressing room of a French boutique. You’ve been shopping all day, hopping from store to store. Eddie’s clearly impatient but he takes it like the good boyfriend he is.

“I think this is the one,” He says, low on energy. “You look hot.”

“I’d like some more poetic-ness to your words.”

“Okay,” He raises to his feet, gripping your hips from behind. “Then, you’re as fucking hot as a thousand suns.”

“I know right,” You beam then quickly wave him away from your personal space. “Buy it for me.”

He examines the price tag attached to the seam of the dress then looks up at you with a deadpan stare. He’s followed you store to store like a mindless zombie all day, receiving zero affection from you and now you’re looking to buy a dress for an even higher amount. If he hadn’t been so distracted by watching your sexy ass try on all these clothes that accentuate your curves, he’d have called it quits long ago. The only thing he held onto was that you’d eventually reward him with your touch in return.

“This would cost me my entire dealer’s earnings for the week!” He exclaims.

“Yeah, but you have that check coming in for the tattoo shop. You’ll only be poor— for what— a day. You want to keep me happy, don’t you? Then you’ve gotta fund your popular angel girlfriend’s expensive lifestyle. It shouldn’t be a big deal.”

“It’s a huge deal! I’ve bought you plenty of dresses throughout the week and you haven’t even worn some of them.”

“And you’re still complaining like you always do.” You say while rolling your eyes.

“You may not be a good girl anymore but I’m going to make it my mission to correct this little behavior of yours.”

“What? You’ll spank me again? You don’t get to touch me unless I get what I want. We have rules for this relationship. Unhappy girlfriend = blue balled boyfriend. But if you’d have just fucked me already maybe I wouldn’t be such a bitch. You scared you’ll cum in one stroke or something?”

“Actually, I’m scared you’ve got teeth down there and, with your personality, it doesn't seem that far fetched.”

“Say what you will but I’ll always be Hawkins’ sweetheart. Even being in a relationship with you couldn’t tarnish that image sadly. Ah, well,” You remove the dress, now in your underwear as you begin dressing in your own clothes again. “Being good has its perks nonetheless.”

“How long do you think that’ll last? What do you think your friends will think of you when I show them all the naughty little footage I have of you in my camcorder? I’m sure they’d love to hear how much Hawkins’ sweetheart loves choking on the freak’s giant cock.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Maybe I will, maybe I won’t. Depends on my mood. But don’t be sad, you might find out how envious your friends are of you now that you’re with someone like me. I did rock a lot of worlds.”

“You’re disgusting.” You hiss with slightly hidden jealousy for the very fact that he’s slept with other girls. But why not you?

“Maybe I can get you the dress but I’ll want to do something in return.”

“Everything is so transactional with you.”

“Look who’s talking.” He scoffs.

“If you were to simply buy me shit without expecting anything in return, would it really be transactional?” You retort.

“Are you going to accept my terms or not?”

You stare at the hot pink tube dress in your hands. “Fine. What do you want?”

“Let me give you a wedgie.”

“Are you legit high right now? That’s so idiotic, it’s almost comatose inducing. Why?”

“Because it’d be really funny.”

“I’m wearing really expensive underwear right now that costs more than those shoes you’re wearing. Like hell would I let you tear at them.”

“Then, you can forget the deal.”

“Exploitation is what you’re doing. People wouldn’t take kindly to those who participate in such things.”

“Good thing I’ve never been known to care what people think of me.”

He’s right. He’s never given a fuck. That’s what makes him so terrifying… and so very hot.

“Alright,” You pout. “But when I say ‘stop’, your hands should be off me.”

Turning your back to Eddie, you wait for Eddie to begin. He studies the bedazzled words written on the back of your pants of your matching pink tracksuit: “Princess”. He rolls his eyes at this. Could you be any more predictable?

Your thong peeks out at the top of the low rise pants as a style that you’d adopted just enough to show the public the color of your underwear. Also pink.

“A pink goddamn fanatic.” Eddie thinks to himself.

Your jacket is a crop top, exposing the new belly ring piercing Eddie had done for you when you asked via your rebellious stage. Then there’s your silky smooth back that you plan for him to tattoo a tramp stamp onto the lower section. It’s so much skin. Too much skin exposed but he doesn’t mind how you dress. After all, he can fight and honestly he loves seeing you show yourself off while men envy him for obtaining you.

Eddie tugs on the sides of your pants, accessing just enough of your underwear for the top globes of your ass to peek out as well. He bites his lips to keep in a groan, not wanting to give you the satisfaction. His cock is semi-hard and he makes sure to keep his hips at a safe distance so she doesn’t realize his game.

“Bend a little.” He says, voice hoarse from arousal.

You obey, having a slight arch in your back. Massaging the peeked out globes of your ass, he can’t help but to close the gap between your bodies. Your ass was just so soft and round in his hands.

“Hey! You can’t touch me like that unless you get me what I want!” You attempt to wriggle from his grasp but a large hand fists whatever little piece of fabric your underwear has, stilling you.

With a free hand, he smacks your ass causing you to let out a soft whimper. He grinds his cock into the side of your thigh, humping into you like a dog in heat.

Eddie lets out quiet moans in your ear, tugging on your underwear hard after each moan he lets out like following a rhythm. “Unh, ugh, fuck. You’re so damn pretty.”

You grow wet with each tug. The panty strip in the front slips between your labia, rubbing harshly against the clitoris. How embarrassing that you might actually cum from this. He’ll laugh and tease you for sure once you do.

Maybe you should take some power back and make him whimper so you sway your ass a little which earns you another smack on another cheek.

“I didn’t say you could move.” He growls.

Then, you felt it. His bare cock rubbing between the plush globes of your ass, the back thong strip wrapped around the base for further friction.

“Eddie, no. Please…” You put a hand behind you, placing it on the ‘v’ of his abdomen to halt his actions.

“Move it.” He threatens.

“No.” You say defiantly only to shift into a whining hum, when he takes both of your wrists in his hands to pull behind you and brings them beneath the band of your panties. With your hands cupped in a perfect tubular shape, he uses them to jack himself off. You tighten your grip around him, taking control.

“You’re so good with your hands. Why would I need to fuck your greedy little pussy if these could get me off just as good?”

“Unh, fuck…you.”

“Is that always on your mind?” He chuckles.

You're clenching around nothing, knowing that friction on your clit will not be enough to satisfy the aching between your legs. This was purely for his own twisted pleasure but you enjoy it despite priding yourself to be a selfish person.

“I’m so close, princess. Gonna cum all over your pretty hands, your sexy back, and this tight little ass.” He groans.

“Oh god.” You whine, throbbing profusely at his words. You were so close, too.

He notices your hardening nipples poking through your thin jacket and pinches one between his fingers, while the other steadies your hips as he grinds himself into you. You whine almost as if you’re in pain even though he’s not pulling on them roughly. Lowering the zipper to your jacket and one cup of your bra, he pulls out your breast revealing a newly pierced nipple…that he hadn’t pierced. He pulls your hair, lifting your head enough so that you can see his angered expression through the mirror.

“What the fuck is this?” He slaps your breast and you cry out.

“None of your business. It’s not like you’ll do anything about—oh shit!” You scream out as he continues to pull and pinch around the stainless bar. They were so sensitive even after two weeks.

“You're doing things without my knowledge now.”

“You’re not the boss of me.”

“You’re right,” He laughs darkly then pulls so harshly on your underwear you swear you felt the fabric go up inside your core. “I’m not your boss, I’m your master. So go on and beg for master’s cum.”

“I don’t want you to cum on me.” You mewl, knowing you desperately wanted him to.

“I know you want it, slut,” He growls in your ear. “You want daddy’s cum dripping all over you. To getchu all nice and sticky. Hm? That what you want, pretty girl?”

“Yes, please master,” You give in. “I want you to fucking cum all over me and my slutty ass.”

He cups a hand under your chin from behind, stroking faster into your jerking hands. “That fucking filthy mouth of yours will get you into big trouble someday.”

“Shut up and cum for me already. I wanna taste you.”

“Aw, shiiiit,” He’s getting close but he needs to make you cum. Partly because he loves getting you off and another part is because he knows you’ll give him grief if he doesn’t. “Want you to cum, too, princess.”

He pulls hard on your underwear, using an up and down motion to frantically rub against your sensitive nub and your orgasm takes you by surprise. Your mouth flies open and he slaps a hand over it to keep you from screaming and alerting the staff as he nurses you through your orgasm. The mirror image of you cumming along with your writhing against him triggers his orgasm, cumming hard and seeing stars.

He gropes your hips with both hands, the rings on his fingers bite into your skin as he gives his final thrusts. You feel spurts of his cum everywhere soaking through your underwear as well. You feel a tension between your legs then a release. He’d torn your underwear off your body.

“What the f—-“ You began but Eddie shoves a middle finger coated in his cum into your mouth. Your fury dissipates for a moment as you suck on it earnestly like you would his cock, your skillful tongue tracing over the engraved silver of his ring. The salty-sweet taste of him elicits a satisfied hum from you.

“That’s it. Just like that. Just like how your Master taught you.” He coos, petting your hair. When he senses you getting carried away, he pulls his finger out with a wet ‘pop’. The glistening finger held up to his face so he can study it, making sure you suck it off clean.

“Um, Eddie, your cum is starting to get cold. Can you please clean me off? Also, I’m pretty sure we were loud enough for us to get a few stares the moment we leave this dressing room.”

“I’m sure we turned a lot of people on, too.” He says before putting a finger to his lips so that you can quiet down and focus on the shuffling and thudding going on in the dresser beside yours. Your mouth drops in shock and he laughs.

Eddie lifts the torn underwear in his hands, bringing them to his nose to inhale. God, you’re intoxicating. It’s a wonder for Eddie to have gone this long without burying his cock deep within you. But he enjoys torturing you, hanging it over your head despite it being torturous on his end as well. Somehow your suffering far outweighed any pain he felt. He wants you sobbing for his cock even more than you did two weeks ago. He doesn’t care when or where it happens. You will beg for his cock.

Using the torn fabric, he cleans up his mess then helps you fix your hair and adjust your prim and proper appearance as if nothing had happened. Eddie tends to himself last, tucking his third leg back into his jeans. In the corner of his eye, he could see you watching him and the bulge. You play it off, helping him fix himself when you were really looking to get another glance at his anaconda.

“So…about the dress…”

“What dress?” He smirks.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Munson. I want my dress. You said that you'd buy them if I did this.” You narrow your eyes at him.

“I said ‘maybe’.” He retorts.

You seethe, feeling so angry that steam could shoot out of your ears. “You’re a dick.” You turn to leave when he grabs your wrist and pulls you against him.

“I was just teasing you, sweetness. I would’ve gotten you the dress even if you didn’t go through with it. But it’s so much more fun that you did.” He smacks your ass and you let out a small gasp.

“You’re the best,” You litter his face with multiple kisses, your lipstick staining his skin all over. You kiss the corner of his mouth and it makes him hungry to feel your lips on his but he doesn’t pry. “While you’re buying my hot dress, I’m going to the van to rest my aching feet. I had a loooong day.”

You pat his back, unaware of Eddie staring angrily at you once again at your oblivion to his situation.

[mr-urple]

» The only god I believe in is me.

>> Greetings, random onlooker. I'm Donatello, but I more commonly go by Don. I'm just your average ninja mutant turtle teen with a penchant for violence and chaotic shenanigans. As long as you follow my rules, I wouldn't mind having you around as company.

⚠️DNI⚠️

tcest, incest, proshippers, racists, homophobes, transphobes, ableists, misogynists, nsfw, and any other mean weirdos

ALSO, under 13 DNI. You can follow and reblog and like and whatever, but do not send in asks or DM me.

ART REQUESTS: CLOSED

Please don’t ask if my requests or commissions are open. They aren’t. And I don’t plan to open them any time soon. I’m a self-indulgent artist who draws what he wants, and I’d like to keep it that way.

RULES

THIS IS A NON-NFSW SPACE. No sexualization or weird remarks. As an immature teen, I will make suggestive jokes, but I will NOT allow any sexualization of me, my characters, or anyone else on this blog.

BE NICE. I won't tolerate complete, idiotic assholes in my domain. I don't want to associate myself with such filth.

DO NOT STEAL MY ART. You can use it as long as you give credit.

DO NOT flirt with me. I AM TAKEN AND I WILL NOT RECIPROCATE ANY ROMANTIC OR SEXUAL FEELINGS. If you wish to compliment me, PLEASE use a tone tag.

DO NOT treat me like a roleplay blog, because I'm NOT. I'm just some kid. Don't objectify me. I'm not a doll for you to play with.

OC MASTERPOST (Last updated: 11/6/2024) SONA REFERENCE SHEET (Last updated: 11/11/2024) TMNT:FF TURTLE REFERENCES PRONOUNS PAGE

@sir-cyan <- DNA’s sideblog

MY FAM

#jasper.mp4 [🧪] - @atomic-rattz (Lil bro!!)

#magenta.mp4 [💫]- @splatting-stampede (Big sis!!)

#prism.mp4 [🧡] - @prismdrive (Mi esposo <333)

#rose.mp4 [📼] - @cin3maa (Lil sis!!)

#azure.mp4 [🫐] - @sourfunstrips (Big bro!!)

#indigo.mp4 [💤] - @deepseadozing (Lil sib!!)

EXTRA TAGS

#my art - Self explanatory

#purple.txt [👾] - My yapping tag

#donsona - Tag for my sona (who's MM/TOTTMNT Donnie but wayyy cooler)

#valentello - Tag for any art of me and Val aka my amazing and awesome boyfriend/husband/guy I kiss sometimes idk

#swords vs tech - My rivalry with 2012 Leo

#villain au - Anything related to my villain arc

#cyan.txt [🧬] - DNA's talking tag

#crimson.txt [🏮] - Zach's talking tag

↡ MORE INFO UNDER CUT ↡

ABOUT ME ⋆˙⟡

>> I am currently 16 years old! Just trying not to fail high school tbh (GET ME OUT OF HERE) ༼;´༎ຶ ۝ ༎ຶ༽ >> I'm 5'4" (163 cm) so please stop asking abt my height 😭 >> Annoying as SHIT (esp if I like you so uhhhh if you dont wanna deal with that block me idk 😁) >> Yes I have a boyfriend yes I do get bitches yes I'm gonna brag about it and try to mention it as much as possible because I fucking love my boyfriend okay cry about it >> Yes I'm an asshole deal with it >> I'm Korean but not extremely fluent in the language bcz I was born and raised in the US 😓 ↳ No I do not listen to K-Pop or watch K-Dramas, I've frankly never found an interest in them (I like Korean food a lot tho) >> INTP, 5w4 (I rlly like MBTI I was fixated on it for like 2 years)

INTERESTS ͙͘͡★

>> Splatoon (all three games AND the manga) >> BotW/ToTK >> Pokemon >> Kirby (RtDL is my favorite) >> Vocaloid/J-pop >> Epic the Musical >> Dungeon Meshi >> Frieren: Beyond Journey's End >> Apothecary Diaries >> Amphibia >> The Owl House >> Gravity Falls

header and pfp by cin <3 blinkies made by me! (don’t use them please)