#nature taking over the chains is interesting

[blep-23]

I’ve been relistening to the How To Train Your Dragon books on audible. And I’m on book 8 and my guy I have thoughts that concludes to:

💞Berserkers💞

And Furious the dragon is sad and relatable and angry. I can dig it.

[eimiette]

late nights

࣪★ ⋆ ˙ ۪ ݁ 𓈒 ── SPENCER REID

SUMMARY: in the quiet moments between solving cases and late night paperwork, you and spencer blur the lines between friendship and something more, navigating the unspoken tension with stolen kisses in dark corners of the bau evidence room. GENRE: smut with plot, idiots in love (again, sorry) CW/TAGS: soft!dom spencer (duh), exhibitionism?, piv sex, oral f!receiving, lots of banter, est!fwb relationship, reader is referred to as a girl, praise asf.

the bullpen was nearly deserted, save for you and spencer reid, who were still chained to your desks, slogging through the seemingly endless pile of paperwork. the hum of the overhead lights and the occasional rustle of paper filled the quiet. everyone else had long since headed home, but you were too stubborn to leave until the job was done—and spencer was, well, spencer.

you glanced over at him, amused by how intensely he was concentrating on his work. his brow was furrowed, and his pen moved quickly over the report, as if he were solving a puzzle instead of filling out the same tedious forms as you. the sight made you smirk.

“hey, genius,” you called out, breaking the silence. “you got a second?”

he didn’t bother looking up. “for you? always,” he replied, his tone so casual it almost sounded sincere.

“great. i need your help in the evidence room,” you continued, stacking up a few files on your desk. “figured you could speed things up with that supercomputer brain of yours.”

he finally looked up, quirking an eyebrow. “and what, exactly, do i get out of this arrangement?”

you grinned. “the satisfaction of knowing you’re contributing to a more organized workspace. and, you know, my eternal gratitude.”

spencer sighed in mock resignation, setting down his pen. “fine. but only because i can’t stand to watch you fumble around in there any longer.”

you laughed as you led him down the hallway. “oh, please. we both know you live for this stuff. reorganizing the evidence room? it’s like christmas came early for you.”

he rolled his eyes, but his lips quirked up in a small smile. “if this is your idea of christmas, remind me not to accept any holiday invitations from you.”

you reached the heavy door of the evidence room and pushed it open, flipping on the overhead light. “i don’t know, i think you’d have fun. nothing like a little chaos to keep you on your toes.”

“or give me a migraine,” spencer muttered, stepping inside and taking in the rows of shelves filled with boxes and files. “alright, what’s the plan?”

“simple,” you said, setting the files down on a metal table in the center of the room. “we’ve got to merge these old case files into the new system. you’re a walking rolodex, so i’m counting on you to make this as painless as possible.”

he shot you a sideways look. “i see. so i’m just here to do all the thinking?”

“you got it,” you replied with a grin. “and i’m here to provide moral support and keep you entertained.”

“lucky me,” he said dryly, but there was a spark of amusement in his eyes as he crouched down to examine the boxes on the lower shelves. “i hope your idea of entertainment is better than your idea of organizing.”

you crouched down beside him, nudging him with your shoulder. “you wound me, reid. i thought we were in this together.”

he snorted softly. “yeah, together in the sense that i’m doing all the work, and you’re supervising.”

“hey, i’m contributing,” you shot back, pulling a box toward you. “i’m providing witty commentary. keeps things interesting.”

he shook his head, but his smile grew. “i’ll give you that. it’s definitely not boring.”

you fell into an easy rhythm, working side by side as you sorted through the files. the banter flowed naturally, the quiet hum of the evidence room providing a backdrop to your back-and-forth. every now and then, you’d catch spencer watching you out of the corner of his eye, and each time, he’d quickly look away, like he’d been caught at something.

at one point, you both reached for the same box at the same time, your hands brushing. you felt a spark of something—maybe it was just static, maybe it was more—and you glanced up to find him looking right at you, closer than you realized.

“careful,” you said with a smirk, your voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “people might think you’re trying to hold my hand.”

he didn’t move his hand away. instead, his eyes held yours, the corner of his mouth lifting. “like what? that i’m trying to be helpful?”

you chuckled. “or that you’re trying to get handsy.”

he smirked. “not sure that’s a compliment”

you scoffed, shaking your head. “it’s not. but you know, you keep this up, and someone’s gonna catch on.”

“maybe,” he replied, his voice low, “but that didn’t stop you last time.”

you rolled your eyes, leaning in slightly. “last time, we were off the clock. think you can pull this off at work?”

reid's eyes hung low,“i’m a fan of multitasking. besides, you always say i need to get out of my comfort zone.”

you gave him a playful smirk, leaning in closer. “is that what you’re calling this? because it feels more like you’re trying to test your luck.”

reid’s eyes widened, feigning innocence. “i’m just here to help you with the evidence. if you’re reading anything more into it, that’s all on you.”

you raised an eyebrow and he let out a soft chuckle, his hand lightly brushing your arm. “i promise, i’m just focused on finding those files. though if you think my intentions are less than professional, well, maybe you’re the one with a wild imagination.”

you let your hand trail lightly along his chest, raising an eyebrow. “oh, i’m sure you’re ‘focused,’ but i don’t think it’s on the evidence files.”

reid’s smile widened, his gaze dropping to where your hand rested. “noticed, did you? guess i can’t help but be a little distracted when you’re this close.”

you held your breath as reid gently brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering to cup your cheek. the touch was soft, but the way he looked at you made your pulse quicken.

“you know,” he began, his voice low and earnest, “i’ve been thinking about you all night. can’t seem to focus on anything else.”

you raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “oh? and why’s that?”

he let his fingers trail gently down from your cheek to your waist, his touch making you shiver slightly. “partly because you’re wearing that skirt. it’s just... distracting.”

you felt a jolt at his touch, his fingers brushing lightly under the hem of your shirt. “distracting, huh? how so?”

reid’s gaze dropped to where his hand rested on your waist, his fingers barely grazing your skin. “every time i tried to work, all i could think about was how you looked—how you’ve been driving me fucking insane since you walked in.”

his fingers trailed lightly under the bottom of your shirt, his touch gentle and deliberate. you held your breath, feeling the heat of his hand against your skin.

“you’re making it really hard to stay professional,” he continued, his voice low and husky. “i keep imagining what it’d be like if you were closer, if i could...”

you felt a rush of warmth at his words and his touch. “and what if i don’t mind a little distraction?”

reid’s eyes flickered with a mix of desire and appreciation. “if that’s the case, then i’m more than happy to be distracted.”

without warning, reid’s body pressed against yours, and you could feel the raw heat emanating from him. his lips were soft yet demanding as they captured yours, and your hands instinctively reached up to entangle in his hair. the sensation of his lips moving against yours was electrifying, making your heart race and your skin tingle.

reid's hands found your waist, gripping tightly as he maneuvered you backwards. your back collided with the smooth surface of a nearby desk, papers scattering to the floor unheeded. in one fluid motion, he lifted you onto its edge, positioning himself between your legs. the wood was cool against your flushed skin as reid pressed his body flush against yours.

his lips broke away from your mouth, trailing a searing path along your jawline. you tilted your head back with a soft gasp, granting him better access as he kissed down the column of your throat. his breath was hot against your skin, each exhalation sending tingles of electricity coursing through your body.

reid's voice was low and husky as he murmured against your neck. "you're so pretty," reid whispered, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. his lips brushed against your skin as he spoke, the sensation igniting sparks of pleasure. "been wanting you all day beautiful."

his hands roamed your body, leaving trails of heat in their wake. you felt yourself responding, a familiar warmth building low in your belly. reid's fingers danced along your curves as he continued murmuring praises and promises.

"’gonna make you feel so good," he purred, nipping gently at your earlobe.

your breath hitched as his words and touch inflamed your desire. you pressed closer, craving more contact. a soft moan escaped your lips as reid's hands found sensitive spots, expertly stoking your arousal.his hands slid up your thighs, pushing your skirt up to expose your bare skin. his fingers dipped under the lace of your panties, tracing tantalizing patterns. he leaned in to kiss you again, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. you could taste the sweetness of the coffee he'd had earlier as his tongue explored your mouth.

with a growl, he tugged at your panties, sliding them down your legs and tossing them aside. the cold metal of the desk against your bare skin made you gasp, but the shock quickly dissipated as reid's fingers found your slick folds. he stroked your clit, eliciting a breathy moan.

your body arched involuntarily as his fingers brought you closer to the edge. "fuck, spence..."

reid smirked, his eyes dark with lust. "god, you're so wet already," he groaned, his voice husky with desire.

he leaned down to kiss you again, swallowing your moans as his fingers continued their maddening rhythm. his other hand cupped your breast, squeezing gently through the fabric of your shirt. you were lost in the sensations, your body moving in sync with reid's.

he broke the kiss, his eyes raking over you hungrily, “"i want to taste you so badly."

without waiting for a response, he knelt before you, spreading your thighs. his lips grazed the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, causing a rush of pleasure. his breath was hot and intoxicating as he worked his way up, teasing you.

“spread your legs baby, that’s it… wider.” his hands slid up your calves, his palms rough against your skin. his fingertips danced along your thighs, sending waves of electricity coursing through you.

his voice was low and commanding, sending shivers down your spine. you obeyed, your knees falling apart, revealing yourself to him.

reid's tongue traced along the crease where your thigh met your hips, teasing you.

“spence…” you whined, arching into him, craving his touch.

his hands slid higher, pushing your skirt further up and exposing your soaked center. he licked his lips, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"fuck, baby, you look so good like this." he leaned in, his lips ghosting over your core. "so pretty and wet... so ready for me."

a whimper escaped your throat as his breath washed over you. your hands tangled in his hair, tugging gently, urging him to continue. he complied, his tongue flicking out to trace the outline of your lips. you shuddered at the sensation, your hips bucking involuntarily.

reid's fingers dug into your thighs, holding you in place as he lapped at your center. you moaned, your head falling back against the desk.

"tastes so good," he groaned, his breath hot against your skin.

you rocked your hips, grinding against his mouth, desperate for more friction. he responded, his tongue circling your clit, teasing you.

"spence..." you panted, your voice hoarse.

his eyes flicked up to meet yours, his pupils dilated with lust.

"yes?"

"i need... please..."

"what do you need, baby?"

you bit your lip, struggling to form words.

"please, spence, i need you. i need you inside me. please."

your words sent a visible shudder through him. he pulled back slightly, his eyes dark with desire.

"since you asked so nicely..."

with a groan, he stood, undoing his belt and zipper with frantic urgency. his cock sprang free, hard and aching. you reached for him, wrapping your fingers around his shaft, stroking him slowly. he pressed his lips to yours, capturing your mouth in a heated kiss.

reid's lips never left yours as his hand shifted to his back pocket, smoothly pulling out his wallet. his movements were quick but deliberate, fingers deftly sliding inside to retrieve a condom. as he did, you began unbuttoning his shirt, your fingers working swiftly down the row of buttons, each one exposing more of his skin. his breath hitched slightly at the sensation of your touch, his focus torn between getting the condom and the feel of your hands on him. you could feel his muscles tensing under your fingertips as you pushed his shirt open, and he held the condom up with a small, breathless grin, his eyes locked on yours.

he tore the wrapper open and rolled the condom onto his cock with practiced ease. with a soft moan, he positioned himself between your thighs, his erection pressing against your entrance. you gripped his shoulders, lifting your hips slightly to meet him, impatient and eager.

he pressed his lips to yours, his tongue darting out to taste you. you moaned softly, returning his kiss, your tongues dancing together.

"spence, please."

he nodded, his eyes fluttering shut as he pushed into you.

you gasped at the sensation, your body arching off the desk, desperate for more. he was hot and hard, stretching and filling you, setting every nerve ending on fire. he began to move, slow and steady, his eyes locked on yours.

"you feel so good, pretty girl," he groaned, his voice husky.

he gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh, guiding you as he increased his pace, “"wrap your legs around my waist."

your body complied without thought, locking him into place. the change in angle had you gasping and moaning as the delicious friction sent waves of pleasure coursing through you.

reid's eyes fluttered shut, his head falling forward, his lips brushing against yours. he guided your back to the desk top and held you there, thrusting into you, his pace relentless.

your breath was coming in short, shallow gasps as the pressure built inside you. your fingers dug into his shoulders, anchoring yourself to him as you climbed toward the peak.

"don't close your eyes, baby. look at me."

you forced your eyes open, meeting his gaze, losing yourself in his brown eyes.

"that's it, beautiful. so fucking beautiful," he praised.

he shifted his weight, changing the angle once again, his hips grinding against yours.

the sensation was too much, and you felt yourself tumbling over the edge, your orgasm ripping through you.

spencer buried his face in the crook of your neck, groaning as you clenched around him, milking him. he thrust into you once, twice, and then he was coming, his body shuddering with pleasure.

the two of you collapsed in a sweaty, panting heap, reid's weight pinning you to the desk. you lay there, his heartbeat thudding against yours, his breath hot on your skin.

sitting up from the desk, you felt a gentle, lingering warmth from the moment as you stretched. reid stepped closer, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the side of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. his touch was tender but filled with the lingering heat of the encounter.

with a gentle hand, he guided you to your feet, helping you up from the desk. as you stood, your legs trembled slightly. you pulled up your skirt as spencer also redressed. “so,” you teased, nudging his side, “is this where you quote some obscure fucking statistic about how good sex improves cognitive function or something?”

reid chuckled softly, his eyes glinting with that familiar spark of mischief. “actually, studies show that it releases a significant amount of oxytocin, which can enhance bonding and trust. not that you needed an excuse.”

you rolled your eyes, helping him button up his shirt “trust you to turn this into a science lesson. oh my god you might as well give a damn ted talk on the benefits of cuddling?”

“maybe i will,” he replied, his fingers gently massaging your back. “did you know cuddling for 10 minutes releases enough endorphins to improve mood significantly?”

you let out a dramatic sigh, though a smile tugged at your lips. “spencer reid, you are a fucking nerd, and i mean that affectionately. but at least you’re a nerd with good hands.”

he grinned, shifting a little closer. “i’ll take that as a compliment. besides, i think i deserve some credit for that multitasking earlier.”

you laughed, your head resting against his chest. “okay, fine. you did okay. maybe even a little better than okay.”

“a little?” he scoffed, feigning offense. “i think i deserve more than ‘a little better than okay.’”

reid’s expression turned serious, though his eyes were still light and looked at you with affection. “as much as i’d love to bask in compliments, we do have paperwork to finish.”

you sighed, lifting your head to meet his gaze. “i’ll deal with hotch’s scolding in the morning. for now, how about we skip the paperwork and head to my place?” you pouted, pleading with your eyes and held your hands behind your back, feigning innocence as you waited for his response.

reid’s smile softened, clearly charmed by your playful act. “you know, i don’t think i can say no to that.”

you grinned up at him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “this is exactly why you’re my best friend.”

reid smirked, his arms encircling your waist. “glad i’m still in the running for that title.”

he leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead before pulling back with a fond glint in his eyes. with a shared laugh, he guided you out of the office. as you both made your way to the parking lot, your giggles echoed in the hallway like a couple of a couple of teenagers sneaking out past dark.

⟢

[majikkulu]

✮ ˖° ⸜ masterlist ꕤ ･

╭₊˚๑ in  this  pick-a-card  reading,  we’ll  uncover  who  secretly  has  a  crush  on  you. keep  in  mind  that  this  is  a  general  reading—take  what  resonates  and  let  go  of  the  rest.

choose  a  makeup  palette  or  the  pile  that  calls  to  you,  and  let  the  magic  unfold!  xoxo

if  you  have  any  ideas  for  future  tarot  pacs,  feel  free  to  drop. them  in  my  ask  box,  and  i’ll  bring  them  to  life! ☁️₊˚੭

﹒ ﹢ ♡. PILE ONE ﹑ ﹒ the  one  secretly  admiring  you  is  someone  who  guards  their  feelings  fiercely,  choosing  the  shadows  over  the  spotlight.  they’re  not  the  type  to  wear  their  heart  on  their  sleeve—they’d  rather  watch  from  afar,  quietly  absorbing  the  essence  of  who  you  are.  observant  to  a  fault,  they  notice  the  little  things:  your  quirks,  your  interests,  the  way  you  carry  yourself.  odds  are,  this  isn’t  someone  you’d  suspect,  but  their  admiration  for  you  runs  deep,  purposefully  hidden  away.  ever  had  that  eerie  feeling,  like  someone’s  eyes  were  on  you?  that’s  them.  they’re  dedicated,  a  hard  worker,  likely  someone  from  your  workplace,  school,  or  anywhere  knowledge  is  exchanged.  they  excel  at  what  they  do,  yet  they  feel  they’re  not  quite  ready  for  you.  they’re  busy  polishing  themselves,  envisioning  a  version  of  themselves  worthy  of  standing  by  your  side.  in  the  quiet  of  their  thoughts,  they  dream  of  you,  picturing  a  connection,  though  fear  holds  them  back.  what  if  they  misstep?  what  if  you  say  no?  it’s  the  “what-ifs”  that  chain  them  to  their  silence.  they  know  you  have  other  admirers—some  you  might  not  even  notice  yourself.  and  that  makes  them  hesitate  even  more,  wondering  if  they  could  ever  stand  out  among  the  crowd.  yet  there’s  a  youthful,  risky  spark  within  them,  a  spontaneity  that  could  make  them  act  on  impulse  one  day.  their  humor  could  betray  their  feelings,  a  joke  masking  something  real,  or  they  might  make  a  bold  move  out  of  the  blue.  distance  might  separate  you,  whether  physical  or  emotional,  but  they’re  biding  their  time,  watching  for  a  sign  that  you  might  welcome  them  into  your  world.  subtle  cues—lingering  eye  contact,  consistent  yet  quiet  presence,  small  acts  of  kindness—could  be  their  way  of  testing  the  waters.  their  curiosity  about  you  burns  brightly,  and  though  uncertainty  holds  them  back,  their  admiration  grows  stronger  with  every  passing  day.

﹒ ﹢ ♡. PILE TWO ﹑ ﹒   your  secret  admirer  is  someone  youthful,  brimming  with  energy, possibly  a  bit  younger  than  you or same age as you.  they  radiate  a  spontaneous  and  adventurous  vibe,  always  finding  ways  to  be  near  you,  even  if  subtly.  they  might  light  up  with  uncontrollable  excitement  whenever  you’re  around,  their  impulsive  nature  making  them  act  without  much  thought.  yet,  despite  their  boldness,  they  lack  the  confidence  to  openly  reveal  their  admiration,  choosing  instead  to  drop  hints  and  cautiously  test  the  waters.  this  person  loves  to  engage  with  you,  perhaps  through  light-hearted  conversations  or  endless  questions,  as  a  way  to  bridge  the  gap.  though  they  might  come  across  as  carefree  or  reckless,  beneath  the  surface  lies  emotional  depth.  they’re  compassionate  and  far  more  mature  than  they  let  on,  but  they’ve  mastered  the  art  of  keeping  their  feelings  under  wraps.  their  calm  and  collected  exterior  can  be  misleading,  as  they  feel  things  deeply  but  prefer  to  guard  their  vulnerability.  they  might  support  you  in  small  but  meaningful  ways—offering  advice,  cheering  you  on,  or  simply  being  a  steady  presence  in  your  life.  yet  there’s  a  hint  of  pain  in  their  past,  disappointments  or  regrets  that  make  them  cautious.  rejection  is  a  fear  they  can’t  shake,  and  they  won’t  risk  emotional  exposure  unless  they’re  sure  you  might  feel  the  same.  if  this  admirer  is  from  your  past,  they  could  be  carrying  a  wish  that  things  had  played  out  differently.  their  curiosity  about  you  runs  deep,  so  much  so  that  they’re  likely  keeping  an  eye  on  your  social  media  or  gathering  tidbits  about  your  life.  though  their  hesitation  holds  them  back,  their  feelings  for  you  are  steady  and  real.  whether  it’s  through  quiet  support  or  the  way  they  always  seem  to  be  nearby,  their  admiration  is  a  constant  presence,  waiting  for  the  perfect  moment  to  be  revealed.

﹒ ﹢ ♡. PILE THREE ﹑ ﹒ the  person  secretly  liking  you  is  someone  who  has  built  walls  around  their  heart,  shaped  by  past  heartbreaks  or  emotional  struggles.  they've  been  hurt  before,  and  now  they’re  hesitant,  guarding  themselves  carefully.  they  don't  want  to  experience  that  pain  again,  so  they  tread  cautiously,  trying  to  figure  out  if  you’re  someone  they  can  trust.  even  if  they  want  to  approach  you,  something  holds  them  back.  this  person  is  likely  still  healing  from  past  wounds,  whether  from  a  bad  breakup,  rejection,  or  something  else  that  left  a  scar.  they  might  be  emotionally  tender,  yet  still  hopeful  for  love  despite  everything  they've  been  through.  in  their  quiet  moments,  they  daydream  about  ways  to  connect  with  you,  but  fear  and  uncertainty  overwhelm  them.  the  fact  that  they  know  you  have  other  options  only  intensifies  their  hesitation.  they  question  whether  they  should  confess  their  feelings  or  continue  admiring  you  from  the  shadows.  they  find  themselves  caught  in  a  cycle  of  indecision,  overthinking  every  possible  outcome,  unsure  if  you’d  feel  the  same.  yet  beneath  their  reserved  exterior,  there’s  a  spark  of  impulsivity,  a  part  of  them  that  might  eventually  push  through  the  doubts.  in  a  moment  of  spontaneity,  they  could  reach  out  to  you,  sending  a  message,  sparking  a  conversation,  or  even  confessing  directly.  though  they  try  to  hold  back,  there’s  always  a  chance  they’ll  act  without  warning,  surprising  you  with  their  sudden  courage.

[sweetiecutie]

Warnings: none, König is afraid of women lol, pure fluff, König being all over you <3

Loser!Metalhead!König whom you met through a shared friend at the small party. It’s not even a party as such - about ten young people gathered with food and drinks, light music playing softly on the background as everyone chatted and laughed. Your eyes fell upon tall dark figure in the corner - a giant of a man was sitting silently, listening to a conversation his other two friends were having, adding to it time to time.

Loser!Metalhead!König who is silent, aloof and even intimidating, with his long hair and black band t-shirts with skulls and chains and scary looking letters. You think he doesn’t like you first time you approach him, just nodding curtly at whatever you have to say, occasionally giving the shortest, driest responses. But, strangely, you don’t feel any hostility coming from him, his presence open and welcoming, even despite his detached and even awkward demeanour.

Loser!Metalhead!König who actually freaks the fuck out when a pretty little thing like yourself comes up to talk to him. He’s struck, not knowing what to do or what to say, his fear of women, especially as gorgeous and beautiful as you, showing up on its fullest. Being more of a listener naturally he just lets you ramble his ear off, taking in your every word even if it looks like he doesn’t care much about what you have to say.

Loser!Metalhead!König who is drastically different from you. You, with your pretty pink crop top and baby blue jeans, white ribbons adorning your hair and glossed plump lips curving so gorgeously in a smile, are a complete opposite to König - huge burly body clad in all black and heavy chains, thick forearms and bulging biceps, thick eyebrows knitted together, a frown that seems to be permanent is tainting his sharp features.

Loser!Metalhead!König who can’t get you out of his head, memories of you flooding his brain for the next few weeks. You just struck him like lightning - your syrupy voice, gentle eyes gazing up at him as you told him some silly story from your childhood - in the dead of night König’s mind unmistakably wandered back to them, getting lost in your orbs all over again, broad chest filling with warm buzz.

Loser!Metalhead!König whom you meet weeks later in a city centre, accidentally running into him on your way back home from running errands. Your eyes light up upon recognising your new acquaintance, lips stretching in a wide smile and König feels as if all the air is being punched out of his chest. You greet him heartily, asking how he’s been and what he’s up to currently. And König, shocking himself even, grasps the opportunity, asking if you’d like to go grab some coffee because he’s dying for one right now (read as: I’m so painfully into you I’ll use any excuse to be around you). And you happily agree, leading him to that one coffee shop you love, which serves the most delicious chocolate cake he’ll ever have.

Loser!Metalhead!König who spends the rest of the day with you, first in the coffee shop and then going for a walk around the centre of Vienna, just talking about everything. Your bubbly and easygoing personality eases him out of his shell, making him talk more freely about his interests and hobbies, his chest tightening proudly upon seeing your amazed expression as he told you of his passion for playing guitars and drums, promising to teach you how to play a few chords in a future.

Loser!Metalhead!König who happily exchanges instas with you (his pictureless profile with 4 followers and name like kng69 lmao) scrolling in awe through all the photos you have there, littering your phone with repeated notifications of new like on your post. He’s sad when he notices the time, you telling him that you have to go home now, his ears perking up at your upset tone, meaning that you don’t want this day to end just as much as König does. He waits for your taxi to arrive, making sure you get in the right car, wishing you a safe ride home.

Loser!Metalhead!König who texts you on ig an hour later, asking if you got home safe. That message makes you smile stupidly at your phone as you reassure him that you’re all safe and sound at your place, adding that you enjoyed today and would like to meet up with König again someday. Now he’s the one grinning at his phone, pale blush dusting his high cheekbones as he lays sleepless in his bed, head full of buzzing thoughts and every single one of them is painfully full of you<3

A/n: might write part 2 of that, lmk if you’d like it🤭

[skufdaddyswansea]

Mouthwashing, Dual Protagonists, and Captain Curly

While the vast majority of Mouthwashing is shown from Jimmy's perspective, the events leading up to the Tulpar's crash usually follow Curly. There are several interesting reasons for this, but there's one reason in particular that I'd like to focus on.

By setting Jimmy and Curly up as dual protagonists, we're invited to draw comparisons between them. Not only are they the lenses through which we view the story, they pass the role of Captain back and forth between their chapters.

It's easy to feel sympathy for Curly, given the state he spends the larger part of the game in. It can also be easy to gloss over his more subtle shortcomings when measuring him up against Jimmy.

In this post, I want to take a closer look at Curly's character. And more specifically, how he relates to one of the game's most obvious themes.

Is Curly able to deal with the consequences of his actions? Does he realize his own failures and how they harm the people around him? What does he do with the power he's granted over others?

Does Curly take responsibility?

Jimmy's fixation here gives us a good jumping-off point. It's certainly possible that he's only really been told this once or twice, but because he's Jimmy he's blown it out of proportion out of spite. It's also possible he's entirely making it up because he's projecting, but I think the former is more likely if anything.

And, if I had to take a guess where he heard it from, I'd put my money on The Pony Express itself.

In the eyes of The Pony Express, a "great leader" isn't someone diligent or able to meet the needs of his crew. The real reason Curly was able to rise to the top of the ladder and become captain is because he gets the job done without rocking the boat.

I'm establishing all this because I think it's worth examining by what metric he's being judged. Because, while it may be Jimmy who most often digs this point up, Curly doesn't disagree with him. Even in the depths of his ennui, it's important to him that not only is he the Captain, but a good one at that.

When comparing the two, that can again seem difficult to argue against. Jimmy is quick to lash out and shift blame. His resentment and insecurities often drive him to pick fights. Curly prefers to avoid conflict, but knows his position doesn't always allow him to do so. He tries to pick his battles, but when he has to get involved he focuses on de-escalating the situation.

But although their similarities are few, they do exist. And they greatly influence the narrative. Because it is from their shared selfishness, callousness, and cowardice that the entire story is born.

It's time to address the elephant in the room. We can't draw any conclusions about Curly's nature, his character, his role in the story, and his relationship to its themes without digging into his handling of Anya's assault, and the chain of events that follow.

I find it interesting that we never see the initial conversation Anya has with Curly about the assault. We simply know that she confided in him. He is the Captain, after all. The crew is his responsibility.

The thing is, we don't really need to know the exact conversation they shared, because we can imagine it went quite similarly to their conversation about her pregnancy.

She tells him how scared she is. She fears for her life. It never even occurred to him that she was upset about anything other than losing her job. He swears to her that everything will be fine. They'll fix this. All he has to do is talk to Jimmy.

He does not talk to Jimmy.

Maybe the first time he really did intend to. He just needed time. Jimmy has always had... struggles. If we want to, we can be generous to Curly, we can assume his old problems were much less vile. Otherwise, he would have never pulled the strings to get him this job, never put him in a position of power over vulnerable people. Right? But now, this was whole new beast altogether. Because he and Jimmy go way back, he had to process this, figure out what he was even supposed to say.

But at the same time, The Pony Express had just gone gone under. He'd been struggling with dissatisfaction and indecision for so long, and now his hand has been forced. He has his own problems. And Anya seems fine, doesn't she? If she hadn't said anything, he'd never have even known there was anything wrong. It just doesn't seem that important.

Anya talks to Jimmy herself.

She's scared, she fears for her life. But now she knows now that Curly won't defend her, nor give her the means to defend herself. Still, he promises her, they'll fix this. He just has to talk to Jimmy.

Things are different now. He can't sit by and wait for things to work out anymore. After all, it's not only her problem anymore.

Now it's Curly's problem too. How is he supposed to find another job with this on his record? There's only one other person on this ship who understands what he's going through.

He talks to Jimmy.

And he understands. Not that what he did was wrong, of course. Not that he'd done something horrific, irreversible, cruel. But that it now had consequences, and that he wouldn't suffer them alone.

Curly made his decision. He chose his paper-thin illusion of peace and his eroding friendship with Jimmy over the safety and well-being of his crew. And when it all came tumbling down, he decided it was better to bury them all under the rubble than to face the struggle to rebuild.

If Jimmy hadn't been there, hadn't been his co-pilot, Curly almost certainly would not have been able to bring himself to actually follow through with something so selfish and reckless.

But Jimmy was there, and Curly made sure of that.

So, it's time to ask again. Does Curly take responsibility?

Well, yes.

But it's too little, too late.

As much as Mouthwashing is about Jimmy fighting furiously against the consequences of his actions, it is also about Curly being forced to watch them unfold anyway. His silence and inaction, once a choice, are inflicted upon him by his mangled body.

Jimmy may have crashed the ship, but Curly gave him the keys. And so it's fitting in the end that Curly is made to take the full weight of responsibility by the man who he helped avoid it so many times.

[junovrsmp4]

one of the girls

part 1. the arrangement

Chris Sturniolo was bad news. You knew it, every girl within a 100 mile radius knew it. Your own brother had warned you to stay away from him, despite being his best friend. That didn’t stop you from wanting him though.

pairing: chris x reader

pt.1 summary: despite all the warnings, and his reputation, you're intrigued by chris. on your 18th birthday, u find out exactly why he's bad news. and like a drug, u get addicted to him. cue, the arrangement

warnings: ABSOLUTE FILTH, very very plot heavy, rough sex, oral, choking, slapping, over-stimulation, mild bdsm, p in v, degradation, slight age gap (reader is 16 and chris is 18 when they first start fooling around, reader is 18 and chris is 20 when they first have penetrative sex)

word count: 6.9K (lmao i think this is going to be a thing)

author's note: so, i found out as i was writing this that @worldlxvlys has a fic with a very similar premise because its inspired by the same song, check it out if u havent already, its so fucking good

It had started out innocently enough.

Chris was your older brother’s best friend, so naturally he was always over at your house or your brother over at his. You remember the first time you’d seen him, sitting on your living room couch, dressed in a black t-shirt and denim shorts, sporting a silver chain. You’d just run down the stairs, yelling for your brother to order you some food when you spotted him. The shock of seeing a complete stranger- a hot one, at that- had you stopping dead in your tracks. You remember how you’d just stared at him like an idiot, before turning around and sprinting back up to your room. You cringe a little, every time you think back to that moment, how you’d been dressed that night, in one of your old sports bras and baggy shorts, your hair an absolute mess.

Awkward first meeting aside, you got to know him, little by little. Sometimes, through little anecdotes reluctantly shared by your brother at your behest, and sometimes, from the man himself. Every time he came over, you’d make excuses to be around him and your brother, and you remember how he’d always smile at you, include you in conversations even when your brother would groan on about how annoying you were being and try to push you back to your room.

So of course, you developed a crush on him.

As a thirteen year old, you would make up cute little scenarios in your head of how you might confess your crush to Chris, and maybe he’d tell you he always liked you too, or maybe, maybe he’d be the one to confess first, with a bashful, awkward smile, and you’d become boyfriend and girlfriend and live happily ever after.

It didn’t take long for you to get over your little fantasies though.

While it hadn’t been obvious to you at thirteen, as you grew older, you witnessed the whirlwind that was Chris Sturniolo, the guy who got every girl’s attention, showed them a good time, and then left them in the dust when he got bored, before moving onto the next.

Your brother, bless his soul, did warn you to stay away from Chris. Had tried multiple times, to tell you how much of a player he was, how he just had a rotation of girls ready to go, and was always looking for someone new to ruin.

“He’s no good,” he’d said. “He’s my best friend, and he’s like a brother to me, but I wouldn’t trust him around you, alone.”

“Why are you friends with someone like that then?” you’d asked.

Your brother hadn’t been able to give you an answer then.

Knowing what you did about Chris didn’t get rid of your interest in him though. You’d long since let go of the silly fantasy of being his girlfriend. It had been a childhood delusion and nothing more, but you still found him…intriguing. The way he commanded every room he walked in, the way every girl around him fell to their knees to be able to service him in some way, the way guys hung around him in hopes of having his appeal somehow rub off on them, it fascinated you.

Even more fascinating was how Chris seemed to be so obviously putting up some sort of front. There was an edge to the cool, suave persona he seemed to be parading in for everyone else.

For every person who told you to stay far, far away from Chris, all they did was stoke the little part of you that wanted to see just what he was really like.

Besides, we all know what they say about curious cats; curiosity may kill them, but satisfaction definitely brings them back.

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

The party was already in full swing by the time you’d made it through the front door. The entire house was lit with flashing lights, bright and blinding, the music so loud it seemed like it almost thrummed straight through the bodies that surrounded you, almost consuming you and swallowing you into the heart of the party.

A party to celebrate the end of an era, and you turning eighteen.

You hadn’t wanted anything crazy, but trust your friends to go behind your back to plan something big.

“It isn’t just your birthday, ya know?” they’d said. “We’re finally done with high school!”

It seemed like they’d invited everyone who was anyone in your town, because you don’t even recognize some of the people at the party. Friends of friends of friends, and so on, you guess. Some were your seniors in high school, who had graduated way before you and your friends. It helped that your birthday and graduation coincided with summer break, because it meant a lot of the older kids were back from college for the holidays, which guaranteed the presence of more…discreet party favors.

The air was thick with smoke, from weed, tobacco, and god knows what else, the humidity only amplifying the feeling of breathlessness you feel every time you’re in a big crowd. You spot your brother and his group of friends huddled together, taking up a section of one of the big couches, all of them nursing beer bottles. All except one.

Chris’ eyes are on you the minute you step through the crowd. Unlike all the other guys sitting beside him, he opted out of drinking, and was instead smoking a joint, plumes of smoke slightly obscuring his face. He looked relaxed, leaned back with one arm stretched over the top of the couch, legs spread out. His eyes scan you from head to toe, and you see the way he glides his tongue across his bottom lip before biting into it. Your breath catches in your throat when he slightly shifts his hips, his eyes flitting down and then back up at you, like he’s silently asking you to go sit on his lap. You almost go over to him, slightly swaying on your feet, before you remember where you are and who’s sitting right next to him. You stand there long enough to see some other girl swoop in and plant herself on his thigh, looping her arms around his neck and leaning close to whisper in his ear.

Your brother spots you just then, and you make a show of pointing a thumb at Chris and rolling your eyes, like you’re not desperately wishing it was you that was on Chris’ lap, before making your way to the make-shift drink station that had been set up on the dinner table, where you find Matt fixing drinks for his friends and himself.

“Hey kid,” he drawls out, bobbing his head to the music, and swaying slightly as he pours drinks for the people around him. “Happy birthday!”

His outburst has everyone nearby yelling out their own wishes, and you thank everyone, accepting side hugs and shoulder pats from a bunch of them. One of them even comments on your outfit, telling you that you looked sexy and asking if you wanted to ‘hang out’ with him for a bit, with a waggle of his eyebrows.

You look down at yourself, flattening your palms over the black mini skirt you were wearing, the length, obscenely short. You’d paired it with a black bralette, a cropped mesh top with a watercolor wine print and platform ankle boots. Your friends had helped you with your hair and makeup, and you knew you looked really fucking sexy, if you did say so yourself.

You yell out a quick thanks but decline the offer to hang out, before asking the Matt to pour you a drink. You can still feel Chris staring, but you don’t dare look back, because looking back would mean giving in to him. Not yet.

You had a game to play after all.

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

Funnily enough, the game between you and Chris had started with a literal game. Specifically, his last lacrosse game for Sommerville High.

You usually didn’t care to go to school events, especially to watch a bunch of people play a sport that you didn’t understand, but it was also your brother’s last game that he’d be playing for your high school, so you’d gone to show your support. Your parents had been there too, and they’d taken a seat next to Chris’ family.

“Oh, this is such a bittersweet moment, isn’t it?” you hear Mary Lou ask your mom, who nods solemnly. They strike up a conversation about their kids, how they grow up oh so fast. It’s funny watching them lean over to talk to each other while Nick sits between them, looking bored out of his mind.

He catches your eye and breaks out into a grin, before politely asking your mom if she’d like to switch seats with him, which she excitedly accepts.

“Never thought I’d see you at one of these,” Nick comments as he looks down at the field, eyes searching for his brothers, you assume. “Want some?”

He’s got a bag of popcorn that he tips your way, and you thank him before grabbing a handful. You make idle conversation for a while, mostly about how he, his brothers and your brother would be graduating soon, and about your classes. You avoid the topic of the triplets ever-growing YouTube channel; you don’t need Nick knowing you obsessively watch every video of theirs.

Nick was a welcome presence; where his brother Chris managed to put you on edge and make you feel hyperaware of his presence, Nick was comforting, grounding.

As disinterested as you are in sports, the energy of the field gets to you eventually, your eyes tracking the same three players, 3, 4, 15, Chris, Matt, your brother, over and over, while listening to Nick chime in occasionally about the score. You have enough awareness to pick up on the energy of the crowd, and it looked like the Sommerville players were doing really fucking well. You watch your brother and Matt make a couple of saves, and Chris going full offense by scoring a bunch of points for the team, all while clutching onto Nick as the two of you cheer each time.

It’s down to the last few minutes of the game, and you watch with bated breath as both teams turn the ball over to score a point or stop the other from scoring.

“Wait, what’s going on?” you ask Nick. With only two minutes left, you notice all the players running to the edge of the field and forming team huddles.

“Timeout,” Nick says before taking a sip of his drink. “Coaches probably want to discuss final strategies with the team, but it won’t make much of a difference at this point. We’re winning this thing!”

“Oh, I see…” you mutter, and your eyes gravitate towards player number 3. You can’t see much of Chris’s face from this distance, but you watch as he swings an arm over your brother’s shoulder. His head tips upward slightly, and for a second, you almost feel like he’s looking right up at you, but that would be crazy.

The game is back on, and you watch as your brother immediately springs into action, trying to get the ball that one of the players on the rival team had managed to grab. A shrill whistle blows, and Nick winces beside you.

“Shit- what’s wrong?”

“Your brother just got a foul, kid,” Nick says with a shake of his head. “He was playing really well though, damn.”

One last minute. You watch as the Sommerville team expertly passes the ball around, going back and forth between a bunch of the guys as the other team tries to bat it from them. You don’t even realize you’re holding your breath when you see Chris has the ball now, and with just a few seconds left on the clock, he makes the last score of the game, and the crowd goes fucking wild.

Everything else was a blur after. You remember being ushered onto the field by Nick, your parents joining you as the players all took pictures together, as a team, with their families. You remember seeing Chris’ eyes widen as he took in your presence, before quickly flashing you his signature smirk.

“Look who decided to finally show up for a school game!” he’d said, arms cross over his chest, and you’d remember feeling small under his gaze, holding onto to Nick’s arm to hold back from flinging yourself at him in front of all these people, in front of your family.

The next few minutes had been spent taking pictures, and there was a particular moment when both your mother and Mary Lou had asked for a big group photo, and that’s how you found yourself pressed up between Chris and your brother, who had his arm slung over your shoulder. You still remember the way Chris’ fingers brushed against yours, your breath catching in your throat when, in an extremely bold move, considering you were with your families, he’d linked his pinky with yours.

That’s how it had started. Looks exchanged across rooms, stolen touches hidden from everyone else’s eyes. A pull and push, a game of who’d break first. It was like something that emboldened Chris that day of the game, and he’d test the limits to what you’d allow him to do to you. The goal for him seemed to be to get you to let down the invisible guard you’d put up whenever he was around, to get you to admit something even you weren’t aware of. Your goal was to get your fill of Chris in hopes of satiating whatever curiosity and hunger you had for him before you had to watch him with some other girl as soon as he got bored with you.

There were nights after that game when he’d come over to your house to hang out with your brother when Chris would sneak into your room, under the pretense of going to the bathroom or to grab a snack.

It was during those nights that you’d exchange rushed, heated kisses, Chris grabbing onto your waist while you clutched at his shoulders, pulling him close before quickly pushing him away, breathless. He’d swipe his tongue across his bottom lip before sinking his teeth into it, fighting back the grin that threatened to take over his face.

“Go out with me,” Chris had asked one night, leaning against your dresser and fiddling with the rings you’d left there from earlier that day.

“No, Chris,” you had replied, already back to reading the book he’d pushed out of the way when he’d crawled over you to kiss you. You tried to ignore the way your lips feel swollen and bruised from where he’d bitten them.

“I don't know why you’re playing so hard to get,” he said with her arms crossed over this chest, his lips quirked up in his signature smirk. “You clearly want me- why not date me?”

You can't help but let out a chuckle at that.

“What?”

“Everyone and their mother knows you’re not the dating kind, Chris” you said, with a tight smile. “You’re going to bail the minute it gets too real, before going with one of the other girls in your roster.”

The silence that follows makes you look up from your book, and Chris is watching you with a look you can’t comprehend.

“Touché. So you’re good with being one of my girls then? I just don’t want you to come crying to me later saying you were hoping I’d be your boyfriend or some shit.”

You roll your eyes, hating the way his words made you feel. It was pathetic, chasing after crumbs, knowing you wouldn’t get anything more. You knew what you were getting into, and you weren’t expecting anything more. but it still made you feel like a fool.

“By the way,” Chris begins to speak, arms crossed tightly across his chest, his shoulders stiff. “The only reason I bail-” he says the word with a harsh tone you’d never heard from him before, “-is because all of you seem to have already set your minds on being with me for one thing, and one thing only. Not that I’m too mad about it.”

He’s scowling now, and you see the muscles in his jaw flex, like he’s gritting his teeth. He was definitely mad, about what exactly, you weren’t so sure.

“What do you mean?” you’d asked, but Chris was already walking out of your room.

You’d spent the rest of the night wondering what had gotten Chris angry. There was a part of you, the one that really, really enjoyed Chris’ attention, that was worried you’d pushed him away, but a bigger part of you wondered if this was for the best. You’d gotten more than you’d ever imagined from him, and it was probably best to leave it at this before you ended up getting swept up in…him.

It didn't matter in the end, because that same night, after making a show of leaving out the front door to go back home, he’d snuck back into your room through your window and spent an hour leaving harsh kisses and bites on your lips, your neck and your collarbones.

He was clearly taking out his frustration from earlier on you, his fingers gripping at your waist and thighs as he pressed your body down onto your bed with this own.

He took, and took. Took your breath away with his kisses, took your wrists in his hands, grip tight as he held them down on either side of your head, all while laying claim on you and your body. Just like you wanted him to.

Realizations were made that night, because as soon as Chris had gotten his fill and left, you’d made yourself cum, over and over, as you imagined him being rougher with you, laying his claim on you with harsher, more painful touches to your body.

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

Parties like these really weren’t your scene, but you did enjoy being a fly on the wall, observing all the people around. Drunk teens and young adults giving into more baser instincts, their judgement clouded by the various substances they’d consumed. Some were loud and brazen, engaging in risqué activities right where everyone could see them, some hidden in dark corners, making out with each other.

You’re still nursing your first drink, letting it pull you into a tipsy haze, and you vaguely register the guy standing beside you talking about something you had absolutely no interest in. He’s got one arm against the wall as he leans into your personal space, his lips close to your ear as he speaks, to make sure you can hear him over the loud music. You let out noncommittal hums and nod occasionally to seem like you’re listening, but your eyes are trained on Chris and the girl who’s currently sitting on his lap, a different girl from the one you saw when you first walked in, grinding down on him.

Just as Chris turns his head in your direction, you turn your head towards the guy next to you, bringing your free hand to his and pulling it to rest on your waist. You smile up at him and laugh at a joke he’d just made, something incredibly unfunny and slightly problematic even, before telling him you were going to go grab another drink.

You head into the kitchen, where you get pulled into a conversation with a couple of your former classmates. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Chris slip into the kitchen as well, before he squeezes past you. What no one sees is the way his hand lingers on your lower back as he moves past, dipping low to grab your ass, before quickly moving to the group of people that were also in the room, slinging his arms over the shoulders of two guys before delving into a loud discussion about this seasons lacrosse game.

Heat blooms across your face, and you bite your lower lip to keep from shouting across the kitchen at Chris to just fuck you already, because that wasn’t the plan. You had to have more control than that now, because this was the only time you’d have it tonight.

Your mind wanders back to the several texts you’d exchanged with Chris over the years, after you’d first started your…dalliance with him. They were sparse, you mostly kept your conversations minimal over text, but there had been one night last year, when you hadn’t been able to sleep and had found yourself sending the one text you thought you’d never send to Chris.

> i need something

You’d immediately regretted it. You thought you’d worded it in such a way that you could pass it off, pretend it didn’t happen, or that it was meant for someone else, but you knew Chris would be able to tell exactly what you meant. He would be able to figure out everything you’d thought of him since the past year, every dirty thought, every horny fantasy you’ve had since you first started letting him kiss and touch you, only ever with your clothes on, nothing that progressed past heavily making out and groping each other, leaving you panting and breathless, and him hard.

It was 2 a.m. on a Thursday night and your text could only mean one thing.

You’d put your phone down, trying to go to sleep, hoping that, come morning, if Chris did reply to you, you could pretend you had sent it by mistake, but the anxiousness you felt made you pick your phone back up, and you saw it, the three dots that meant Chris was typing a response.

> U need to go to sleep

That would have been the responsible thing to do. You imagined being bolder, but you were only sixteen, and you had no experience flirting with guys, especially with guys like Chris, so you’d sent off a quick text apologizing, and telling him it was meant for someone else.

> Is that true? Who was it meant for?

> goodnight chris

> Tell me who

> no

> Need is a strong word, almost sounded like u wanted some late night lovin’

You don’t think, you couldn’t think, not with the way your blood rushing in your ears makes you feel slightly faint, and before you know it, you reply with-

> well i feel strongly about it

> Strong feelings can be dangerous

> i want something dangerous

You were being honest. Chris was dangerous. This was dangerous.

> Want? Or need?

> need

There was a long pause, no ellipses indicating Chris was texting back, and for a moment, you think he’d abandoned you, that he was probably texting the many other, more experienced, girls he could be with.

> Dont fall asleep yet. I’ll be there in a bit.

> okay

> So the text WAS meant for me then

> shut up

> :P

The abrupt shift in tone of the conversation had made you giggle a bit, but you remember how you’d waited with bated breath for Chris to show up outside your window, before letting him into your room.

Chris had spent those early morning hours teasing you with his mouth and hands, whispering dirty little things into your ears, coaxing your needs out of you, demanding you tell him exactly what you meant with that text, with one hand wrapped around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make you feel breathless but not take away your ability to breathe, because you told him you wanted it, while the other one dipped down into your underwear.

You’re so fucking responsive, even to the slightest touch, he’d said. Everyone thinks you’re such a good girl, but here you are, sneaking around with your brother’s best friend, what would everyone think?

You’d let your body melt under his touch, letting him envelope you with his touch, his words, his scent.

I think about how you’d look with my cock inside you. I think about tasting you. I think about holding you down and fucking you until you can’t hold back your sweet little moans. God, you’re so fucking desperate for my dick, aren’t you?

And you were, you really fucking were, because no matter how much you pretended to be unfazed by him and his touch, the truth of the matter was, every moment you spent with him was followed by you locked up in your room with your fingers desperately pumping in and out of you, imagining how he would fuck you if you actually let him, how he’d open you up and push his dick into you, how you’d be so full of him.

That was the first night he’d touched you, really touched you, the first night you’d cum from fingers that weren’t your own.

A loud laugh accompanied by a friendly slap on the shoulder pulls you out of your thoughts, and you let out a weak chuckle as your friends remark on how out of it you seem, even though you’ve only had one drink. You look up to see Chris looking back at you over his shoulder, and when you meet his eyes, he jerks his head up slightly, and you know exactly what he’s trying to indicate.

Come upstairs.

Your eyes widen and you shake your head as imperceptibly as you can, even though you’re going to do exactly what he wanted, and you see how it gets him excited, because Chris liked being teased, liked how you played so hard to get, and you loved playing it up, acting all coy and innocent when both of you knew otherwise.

You tell your friends you need some fresh air, but instead of making your way out to the backyard, you slowly make your way upstairs, pushing past people and hoping to all powers above that there was at least one room that wasn’t occupied.

You take your time checking every room on the floor, opening doors to people in various stages of undress, quickly yelling out apologies before moving to the next, until finally, you come to a door furthest from the stairs leading up to the floor. It was quieter here, the music from downstairs was almost muffled. You press an ear to the door, and when you don’t hear any noises from the other side, you excitedly turn the handle to open the door, but it doesn’t budge.

Locked. Fuck.

Just as you’re about to turn away, you feel a presence right behind you, the heat of a body. The strong scent of weed washes over you as hands come up to rest on your hips, before warm lips brush over the shell of your ear.

“Look what we have here,” Chris whispers in a teasing tone, sending a tingle up your spine, making your skin break out in goosebumps. You shiver slightly as his arms encircle you, before he rests his chin on your shoulder, looking down at the door knob.

“It’s locked,” you whisper back, your hands coming up to hold onto his forearms.

“I know,” he mumbles, before holding out one of his hands, and you see a set of keys.

“Go on,” Chris says, nuzzling into your neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your burning hot skin. You quickly grab the keys and fumble with the lock as Chris’ hands wander down between your thighs, grabbing onto them as he presses into you from behind. You feel his length, not hard yet, but still hard to ignore, and the possibilities of how tonight is going to go has your head reeling.

You finally get the door open, and you stumble inside, Chris not far behind. You watch as he grabs the key out of the lock, before following you in and locking the door from inside this time.

You have half the mind to ask him how he got the keys to the door, how he thought of keeping it locked, but all that goes out of your head when he swivels you around and pushes you up against the wall, one hand cradling your head as his lips descend on yours. His fingers grip the hair at the base of your neck and pull, making your head tip back and you gasp as both pain and pleasure bloom and settle low in your stomach, your thighs clenching, and he takes that as invitation to lick his way into your mouth, his tongue fighting and very quickly winning for dominance. Your knees almost buckle from the intensity of it all, from just how turned on you are.

Here you were, with Chris Sturniolo, your brother’s best friend, pulling at your hair, grabbing you so hard you’re sure you’ll have bruises on your hips and thighs by morning. It was a heady feeling, being wanted, and being wanted by Chris was like experiencing the best high from the best drugs.

Chris lets go of your hair to grab onto your hips, pulling your waist away from the wall and grinding you against him, like you were just here to help him get off, and it still surprises you, how much it turns you on. The thought of being just a body to be used, a body that Chris owns and controls.

Your hands find purchase in his hair as you gasp under the assault of his mouth on yours, his teeth biting into your lower lip and pulling, before going back to twisting his tongue with yours. It’s a messy kiss, rough and just painful enough that it has you wet and dripping. You feel the way your underwear sticks to your folds, and the patheticness of your own arousal turns you on even more.

Chris’s hands snake up your stomach under your top, making it bunch up right below your neck. His gaze is heated as his eyes rove over your body, before he’s pulling your bralette down, and the fabric of it bunches up tight below your breasts, pushing them up further into Chris’ face. He takes no time before licking and sucking on your nipples, groaning as he grinds his growing erection against your thigh.

“Chris- please, please-” you whine, body writhing under his attention, hips bucking as you try and find some relief.

“Stay still,” Chris says, and it almost sounds like a growl, which has the opposite effect to what was intended. Your moans get louder and he bites your nipple, your chest arching off the wall.

Chris straightens up, one of his hands coming up to smack you on the cheek before grabbing you by the chin, forcing your head back against the wall.

“Stay. Still.”

The slap had been more shocking than painful, but it still turns you on, just how rough Chris is being with you right now, and you think about how much rougher you hope it gets.

Chris peers down at you, his grip on your chin relentless. “Will you stay still and quiet?”

You nod against his grip, teeth sinking into your lower lip to hold back a whine.

“Good girl,” he says, thumb stroking your lips before pushing into your mouth. You instantly wrap your lips around it, tongue laving at the tip of it before sucking it deeper into your mouth. You see Chris’ pupils dilate as he watches you, mouth falling open slightly as he heaves deep breaths in and out.

“Take off your panties,” he says as he pulls his thumb away, swiping it over your nipple. He chuckles as you jerk away from the cold, wet touch. His fingers flutter over your skin as you quickly shove your underwear down your legs, and you think about kicking them away, but Chris holds out his hand.

Oh.

You hand over your underwear, soaked from your arousal, to Chris, who pockets it with a smirk.

“Hm, good girl,” Chris mutters, before patting the side of your leg. “Spread your legs.”

You peer up at him through your eyelashes as you spread your legs apart and the cold air in the room hits your heated core, making you quiver.

Chris doesn’t take his time. His body presses up against you as he brings a hand up your skirt and to your core, two fingers sweeping through your folds to gather the wetness that was dripping out of you before pumping them in and out of you, each thrust of his fingers punching a gasp out of you.

The room fills with the wet, obscene sounds of Chris’ fingers squelching in and out of you, and he adds a third finger, twisting and spreading them inside you to stretch you out.

“Fuck, Chris, I need you-” you moan, your hips rolling and pushing down to meet Chris’ fingers. You bare your throat to him as he presses his nose to the spot under your ear, his teeth scraping down your throat. His fingers continue pumping into you, pressing repeatedly at the spongy bundle of nerves that had you clenching around them, and that’s how he gives you your first orgasm of the night.

“You’re such a slut for me, aren’t you?” Chris asks, nipping at your jaw. “Look at how fucking wet you are.”

He steps back and holds up his fingers, glistening from the wetness, and spreads them apart, and you see the strings of your fluids clinging between his fingers, some of it dripping down onto his palm. Your breath catches in your throat when Chris brings his fingers to his mouth, sucking on them and moaning at your taste. He’d done this before, when he’d fingered you, and it made you squirm each time, seeing this visual confirmation that he enjoyed your taste.

Your eyes flick down to Chris’ crotch, where you see the clear outline of his hard dick, and you realize that this is the first time you’re actually going to have a dick inside you. You remember the first time you’d seen it when you’d asked him if you could suck him off, and he’d had you kneel for him, before pulling it out of his sweatpants and feeding it into your mouth, guiding your head up and down his length, before he’d eventually just jerked off and cum all over your face.

You watch him as he pulls it out now, and you can’t explain how oddly attractive his penis is. You didn’t think you’d find a penis attractive, but Chris’ was. It was long and thick, but not too thick, and it curved slightly to the left. It was ruddy now, from all the blood that had rushed down to it and the head of his dick glistened from the precum that was beading and dripping out of his slit. Chris wraps his hand around it, stroking it slowly to gather his precum and slick it up.

You make a move to step towards him, thinking he’ll move things to the bed, but Chris grabs your hips and turns you to face the wall before lining his body against yours, pushing you into the wall, with your face turned sideways, your cheek pressed down against the cold surface. You hear the telltale sounds of a condom wrapper being torn open and rubber being stretched over skin.

You look back at Chris, eyebrows furrowing, as he hikes your skirt up your ass, lining his cock up against you and grinding it between your cheeks.

“You’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you?” Chris whispers in your ear, his hand coming up to circle your throat, pushing up to tip your head against his shoulder. You feel his other hand reach down between the two of you, before guiding his dick into you, and your eyes flutter close when the tip slides through your folds to push into you, stretching you. Chris keeps his grip on your throat tight, and braces his other arm against the wall right beside your head.

Your body opens up for him, accepting him into you, as Chris sets a brutal pace, his dick driving in and out of you, leaving you breathless.

“Chris- oh god, f-fuck, ngh-” you whimper, your hands scrambling to grab onto him, one hand clutching at his bicep, while the other comes up to grip the wrist of the hand that is squeezing your throat. “Harder, please- fuck, fuck, fuck- choke me harder-”

“Such a fucking slut, what would everyone think if they knew you were up here begging me to choke you, huh?” Chris rasps out against your temple. “What would your brother think?”

You clench around him, eyes rolling into the back of your head as he continues restricting your airflow, arousal and shame making your blood run hot in equal measure.

“You love being split open on my cock, don’t ya? Your pussy is fucking dripping around it,” he grunts, punctuating his words with harder thrusts into you, the head of his dick hitting the bundle of nerves that has you seeing stars.

“Yes, yes, yes-” you chant, legs quivering as you gush around Chris’ dick. “I’m gonna cum-”

“Yeah? Cum on my dick, c’mon,” Chris rasps, the hand that was braced against the wall moving to rub against your clit, making you buck up against him. “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight still.”

His fingers rub furious circles over your clit, which has you clenching rhythmically around him, and it doesn’t take long before you cum around Chris’ cock, the force of your orgasm wracking through your body and making you quiver violently.

Chris keeps thrusting into you, chasing his own orgasm, and you’re hit with that thought again, of being owned and controlled by Chris, because it was the truth, wasn’t it? He hadn’t even bothered to get either of you fully undressed, hadn’t taken you to bed, because you were just a means to a satisfying end, a warm body that accepted his rough, painful, attention.

And you loved it.

All you hear are the sounds of skin slapping skin and Chris’ grunts and moans over your own punched out whimpers, and now Chris has both his hands on your hips, gripping them hard as he pulls you back onto his dick, his blunt nails digging into your skin and leaving a delicious burn. You don’t know how long it lasts, but eventually Chris comes with a muffled cry, biting into your clothed shoulder as he fills the condom.

“Fuck,” you breath out, slumping forward against the wall, wincing when Chris pulls out, before bringing two fingers up to glide through your folds, still wet, but now also puffy and raw from the constant rubbing.

Chris guides you towards the bed, and you hold onto him because your legs won’t stop shaking. He helps you fix your clothes, pulling your bralette and top back down your torso and smoothing your skirt down your thighs. He tucks his dick back into his pants before disappearing out of the room with the used, and now tied-up, condom in hand.

You sit on the edge of the bed, dazed and out of breath still, and Chris comes back a few seconds later with a wet towel which he gently swipes between your legs, while kneeling before you, letting out a chuckle and a sheepish ‘sorry’ when you wince and jerk away from the cold and rough towel.

Chris stands back up, and goes to say something when his phone buzzes. He looks down at it, letting out a low whistle at whatever message he’d just received.

“I’ve gotta go,” Chris says, his thumbs flying over his keyboard as he types out messages.

“One of your girls?”

“Huh? Yeah,” Chris says distractedly, before tucking his phone into his pocket. “You going to be okay?”

“Mhmm.”

“Alright, happy birthday again” Chris says, bending forward to place a quick kiss to your cheek before patting the top of your head and leaving.

You flopped back onto the bed, sighing as you push your hair out of your face, your legs rubbing together to try and warm yourself up in the now too-cold room. And it was only then that you realize that Chris had left with your underwear.

Fuck.

> you have my underwear asshole

His reply came much later that night, after you’d already gotten home, using a pair of cycling shorts you’d snagged from the closet in the room Chris had left you in and bunching them up under your skirt to make do as underwear for the rest of the night.

> Oops

read part 2. here

author’s note: idek if i like this one y'all (: likes, comments and reblogs r much appreciated <3

taglist 🩵 (comment on my pinned post to be added or removed):

@luverboychris @bigbeefybitch @liz-stxrn @slut4chriss @slut4mattsturnio1o @sturniolosgirl @coochiedestroyer1 @cutiepiess4l @kvtie44 @vschrissturn @hercigaretteblush @fwskullz @m4rriii @anabanana28 @sturniolosange1 @webbersturn @odeezier @johnniesrealwife @freshsturns @marlenafortuna @carolineheartsmatthew @incndescentglow @starniolosposts @urfavgirllyyyyy @mattsturniolosworld @lilyloveschris @sturniozo @lookingformyromeo @heartss4matthewq @lanasturniolo @zina25sworld @ezziewinchester @s-s-842 @sturnlova @whyarefictionalmennotreal @55sturn @cheetahmadi @sturniolowhore @cupidsword @sturnsblog @lovehoneygirll @breeloveschris @littlemisswhore @worldlxvlys @sturniolo04 @sturnioloco @littlemisswhore @pandacake128 @chrizznmetswife

[miaoua3]

(pairing: vampire! wonwoo x f!reader)

randomly thought of this today and NOW I CANT STOP KFKSNDKABDJAK

so here’s the thing.

you can be really fucking stupid on occasion.

sure, there’s natural dangers that come with going on a hike through a forest that you have never been in before. and you were always ready for these types of dangers, carrying your pocket knife as well as all the other necessary equipment.

but entering an abandoned house that is in the middle of the forest all. on. your. own.

now that’s just playing with your life.

the house was…weird. it wasn’t anything like you would expect an abandoned house in the middle of the forest to look like. instead of some ruins with broken windows and missing doors, you find a fully intact house that you can only assume was from around the 18th century, tall and dark and…eerily untouched.

it almost felt like something inside of it was calling your name, like a magnet pulling you closer.

and so, despite your better judgement, you slowly enter the house.

the door creek behind you as you leave them open, stepping inside the huge hallway.

the floor is checkered in a really interesting pattern, not quite like the chess board, the squares are a lot smaller.

above you a huge crystal chandelier hangs, spider webs and spider themselves hanging from one crystal to another.

in front of you, you find a huge staircase, the type that leads all the way to the wall and then splits in two, making it possible to walk up on both sides.

you whisper a low “woah” as you gaze around, everything full of dust but still so very beautiful. it reminds you something that you would see in old movies about vampires.

you chuckle at the thought.

on your left, you see a beautiful archway, a living room hiding just behind it.

you take careful steps across it, only to find yourself in complete darkness. just as you were about to fish your phone out, you notice a lamp resting on a small table on your right, definitely old enough like the ones in the new york library, but not as old as the house.

you eyebrows furrow as you look at it.

weird.

you look for the switch for a short second before pressing the button in hopes that the light will turn on.

surprisingly, it does.

you turn around to see the now illuminated room, a gasp escaping you as your eyes land on blood red walls and midnight purple furniture.

dead flowers hanging from vases all around, the dark maroon curtains blocking the windows.

and then, the pictures on the wall right in front of you.

there’s 5 pictures hanging in total, a portrait of a woman and a young girl on the left, and then another two of an older gentleman and a younger man on the right.

right in the middle hangs a family portrait, of what you now realise is all four of them, the woman, who you assume is the mother, sitting on a chair. beside her stood what you can only imagine to be her husband. at their legs kneeled the young girl, her beautiful black hair pin straight resting over only one of her shoulders, definitely unusual for the time.

but your eyes get stuck on the young man that stood behind the woman in the chair. he was dressed very nicely, again weird for the time, but nice. his hair was pushed back neatly, his chest adorned by some chest piece over his white dress shirt, black crystals hanging from the black chains of the said piece.

you just stand there and admire his beauty, lips falling open all on their own.

there was something about his eyes…that was calling you almost, making you tilt your head a bit in confusion as to why that might be.

“you’ve got a lot of nerve coming in my home uninvited, human.”

hearing the voice behind you, not even the footsteps first, makes you turn around quickly, gasping as your hand smacks into the vase on accident.

as your eyes helplessly watch the vase fall to the floor, the man in question appears in the blink of an eye right beside you, catching both the vase, and you off guard.

it’s almost like he teleported-

no. it’s exactly like he teleported from the door to you, because there’s no humanly possible way for him-

you finally look at him, eyes full of fear and terror as you watch him place the vase gently back on the table that you knocked it off of.

if you weren’t two seconds away from shitting yourself in fear, you would comment just how handsome he is, hair styled back neatly, black blazer resting over a white shirt that is decorated with black chains, his eyes-

wait. those eyes-

your own eyes widen in fear and recognition, stumbling back slightly from the shock.

that’s him, the man from the painting. but how-

“who are you and how dare you come in here?”, his dark voice greets your ears. after a few seconds of silence, he asks in a much louder voice, his voice booming and echoing off the walls of the room.

“i asked you a question, human.”

human?

you nervously start rambling “look sir, i really didn’t mean to disturb you, i was just walking through the forest when i stumbled upon this house and i-i guess the curiosity g-got the best of me,” you start quickly taking steps back as he takes slow but big ones towards you “i-i just wanted to take a-a look, i promise i wasn’t going to ta-take anything, i can go, it’s no problem at all-“.

the nearer he got, the quicker your steps got, until your back inevitably met the wall, his form quickly following yours. his hand slams against the wall right by your head, making you close your eyes on instinct and in fear.

slowly opening your eyes, you see him looking at you, carefully scanning your face, something like familiarity and…yearning? swimming through his black orbs.

he takes the hand off the wall in favour of taking a strand of your hair, twirling it between his long fingers. as you watch his hand, you notice just how long and pointy his nails are.

after a second of doing that, he slowly lowers his face towards you, bringing the strand of your hair to his nose and inhaling deeply. his eyes close all on their own, long eyelashes fluttering against his pale cheeks.

the next time he opens his eyes, they’re not black anymore.

they’re red.

in the deepest voice ever, he finally says.

“you are not going anywhere, my love. not again.”

again?

[maple-the-awesome]

Another Link Crushes On You || Part 2/3

Part 1 ||

Pairings: Legend, Twilight, Wind x GN Reader

Overview: You've known Link for years - Well, a version of Link. Neither of you have seen yourselves as being anything more than friends, although it seems not all Link's think the same, in fact when you're introduced to the Chain, one of the boys falls pretty hard for you. I spun a wheel to let fate decide upon random pairs this time. Needless to say, I had a lot of fun with some of them😁

Zelda Masterlist 💚 Fandom Masterlist

Legend isn't a big fan of Skyloft which is something he decided rather quickly upon arrival - and no, it has nothing to do with the cold, thin air or hair-raising heights, although he’s also not a big fan of either. His problem lies solely on the cheerful atmosphere created by this village’s inhabitants. It’s all too easy going and mundane to fit an adventurer’s heart. Too familiar and painful, to boot. 

The others may think of him as aloof and, quite frankly, Sky might be a little offended, but Legend has no interest in exploring these islands or making friends with the locals. Never again. Instead of joining any guided tours or trading stories with inquisitive knights, he sinks into his own isolation, finding a quiet place to sit amongst the shore of Skyloft’s only large water source.

All by his lonesome, he’s free to find a good boulder to hide behind and tear away at his hair in a desperate attempt at calming his unsteady anxiety…That is, until he hears a sound - No, not a sound, a voice. A beautiful voice that doesn’t speak, but rather hums a delicate melody he’s certain he’s heard before, probably from Sky who has a habit of mumbling certain songs to himself while plucking his harp.

…And there you are, blissfully unaware of anyone else's presence by the lake as you approach the water's edge. Dropping a laundry basket in the sand, you carefully roll up your pant legs and kick off your boots, prepared to step into the cold water until you suddenly halt.

As if having developed some sort of sixth sense, you glance over your shoulder, quickly spotting the pink haired boy peeking at you from beside a boulder. The sight understandably startles you, yet despite how awkward this situation might look without context - what, to catch a total stranger apparently 'spying' from afar - you give him a kind, that be it nervous smile. People in Skyloft truly are too trusting for their own good.

"Oh hello there! …So sorry, I don't think we’ve met yet."

Legend sighs, realizing it would be creepier if he were to just ignore you. With his place of solace now ruined, he stands and dusts the sand off his tunic, "...That's because I'm not from around here."

"Oh?" You tilt your head cutely, likely confused as to what he could possibly mean, after all, where else would he have come from if not Skyloft? Looking him over, you take notice of his outfit, “Are you a knight? I see you have the uniform of one.”

The angel on Legend's shoulder begs him to be honest, after all there's no reason not to be. Naturally, Sky seems to be pretty well known around Skyloft, so maybe you wouldn't be too surprised to learn your local hero has become ensnared in another adventure, bringing home a handful of other heroes. You might even find Legend more interesting if he were truthfully, awed by the rare chance to meet someone outside of your own timeline...yet staying true to his own bad habits, he decides to dig his own grave instead:

"...Yeah, I’m a knight. I'm just usually really busy, so that's probably why you haven't seen me around, you know,” He explains boldly.

You furrow your eyebrows while finally stepping into the water, taking a handful of clothing items with you, "...Huh...I still could've sworn I knew everyone here, what, with the island being so small and all."

Legend cringes. He can't tell if you're simply speaking on your confusion or slyly catching him in a lie, although the uncertainty isn't enough to deter him, "W-Well, I don't live 'here' exactly. I live on one of the...outer islands - And I spend a lot of time there instead of here which would make it easy to miss me."

You give him a strange look that feels as if it could burn right through him, however you fortunately turn away before his heart can ignite, "...May I ask your name?"

"My...name?" He blinks as if that’s the strangest question you could’ve asked.

"I just feel a bit rude for never having noticed you before, but if I were to learn a name to put to the face, I doubt I'll ever walk past you again without a smile," And oh, how deadly your smile is, flashed over your shoulder so innocently, yet those eyes - They hold mischief behind them.

 "My name is Li - Ravio. That's my name," Another needless lie...

"Li Ravio?" You repeat, not looking very convinced, "That's certainly...a name, alright."

"W-Well, I didn't pick it!" Yes, yes he did...

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean any offense. It's a unique name, that's all, but that will make it easier to remember," You laugh at his misery, your eyes crinkling with the action. You then introduce yourself, your name sounding vaguely familiar, although Legend's in too much of a daze to think of why, "It's nice to meet you, Li Ravio."

He bites back a grumble, already regretting his life choices up until this point. Seriously, if he was going to give himself a cover name and story, couldn't he have picked something a little better? You probably think he's a weirdo, just showing up out of the blue with some half-assed backstory that sounds totally fake - Wait, what does he even care? It's not like he knows you! You're a random civilian from a timeline that comes generations before his own. If he wanted, he could march off and never see or think about you again...but does he want to?

Despite his previous desire for isolation, Legend remains standing there dumbly in the sand, entranced by the song you go back to humming while carefully scrubbing away at your laundry. You take no shame in your singing - which is good, because there's no reason to be. You sound nothing short of holy, and quite honestly, you match the look, practically glowing in the beams of sunlight. Even your movements are graceful, so much so that as you wade out of the water, you hardly disturb the water lilies around you.

"Where'd you learn to sing like that?" The question slips before Legend can help it, but there's no taking it back. You stop mid-step onto the sand, eyes quickly darting up to look at him in surprise. It's as if no one's ever been smart enough to give you that compliment before...or perhaps no one has ever sounded quite so astonished while saying it.

"My cousin and I sing every evening at the Lumpy Pumpkin," You explain, bashfully tucking a strand of hair behind your ear after dropping your laundry back into its basket and picking it up, "You should come by sometime. It’s on an island south east of here - Very cozy, and a great place to get to know new people, too.”

"I'll, um...think about it,” Legend answers awkwardly with a cough. Will they even be staying in Skyloft that long? How would he even get to another island, especially without anyone else following - Wait, why is he even considering this?! 

You seem to have lost some of your cheer. Perhaps that wasn’t the exact answer you were hoping to hear, however Legend, once again, has no way of taking it back.

“...Well, I, um, should get going. These clothes won’t dry themselves,” You mumble, gesturing to the basket you keep against your hip. Without waiting for any goodbye, you make your way up the shoreline, only stopping temporarily to shout over your shoulder, “Oh, and Li Ravio? I should probably tell you that Link was looking for you earlier! He wanted to make sure all you boys knew not to get too close to any edges! It’s quite the fall!”

Legend doesn’t respond, too stunned to form words as you chuckle to yourself before skipping off on your merry way. So you were aware of his lies the entire time!

Faced with tired bones and a sinking sun that plummets the world into night, the Chain has no choice but to call it a day (not that they have any objections towards rest). They practically collapse where they stand, taking a few greedy minutes to catch their breaths before picking up the work once again.

Setting up bedrolls, sparking a fire, organizing supplies, and chopping vegetables, the heroes are kept active for a decent hour or two until they can take another breather. Gathered around a wonky circle, their conversation is light and mostly focused upon their hunger which is only fueled by the pleasant smell of soup until it can be dished out.

About half the boys have bowls in their hands before a sudden snap of a twig causes them to trade their meals for weapons, senses on heightened alert especially when a stranger soon steps out of the shadows. At such a distance, the fire's light only barely outlines their silhouette, but that’s apparently all it takes for someone in their group to realize this is no actual stranger who's stumbled across them.

Hyrule's face lights up as he exclaims your name. Your own reaction is quite similar, switching from caution to excitement within the same second that you remove the hood from your head. The way you both move to greet each other, holding the other's arms with bright smiles and disbelief is quick to calm the other heroes. If you're a friend of the wary traveler's, then you'll be a friend to them.

"I thought it was your voice I heard from the trail, but then again, I haven't heard you in ages! And to find you in such a large group of companions? Never before! Where have you been for all this time, old friend?" You seem to go through several emotions all at once - a steady flow from relief, confusion, sorrow, and joy. Hyrule is hardly any better.

"It's a long story, but I haven't exactly been around to be seen," When you give him a bewildered look, he’s quick to brush it off, "I'll tell you all about it some other time - Hey, why don't you join us for dinner? There's plenty to go around!”

Your eyes instantly widen as you wave your hands in front of yourself, your smile suddenly strained, "Oh, no - no thanks! That's a kind offer, really, but I, um, ate not too long ago -"

"- Pss! He's not the one who does the cooking here," Someone whispers. At that, your shoulders visibly relax.

"...Oh...Well, uh, now that I think about it, it was really more of a light snack earlier. I suppose I could stand to eat something more."

Hyrule beams at this, clearly happy to have someone he knows so well stick around even if only for a night. It's then that he finally introduces you to the group, explaining that you're a fellow traveler he often crossed paths with during his own adventures. Seeing how dangerous this time can be, you had a habit of sharing supplies, camps, and stories to feel less alone in the world, so it's no wonder that you'd be so relieved to see each other safe again.

"Mind if I sit by you, stranger?" You ask, peeking around at Twilight while Hyrule grabs you a bowl of soup. Despite your tired eyes and worn expression, you still manage a friendly smile that causes the rancher to nearly choke on his spoon.

With a cough and blush, he scoots to the side, probably making far more room than you actually need, "...Not one bit."

"Thanks!" Fortunately, you don't seem to think anything of his reaction as you gratefully take a seat nor do you take any notice of the way he steals another curious glance at you.

Seeing as you're a new face within the group, it's only natural that you become the center of attention. Questions are thrown your way left and right, many interested to know your story which you modestly tell with little fanfare. Apparently, you've been a traveler for the last few years, wandering from place to place while making a living off trading the resources you collect throughout your journey. Before then, though, you used to live at your family's ranch.

"You grew up on a ranch?" Twilight asks a bit too eagerly once the topic's mentioned, earning himself a lot of strange looks including one from yourself, although you at least seem more forgiving than his friends, quickly letting your confusion go with a gentle nod.

"I did - For most my life, actually," That's all you say before going back to stirring your soup which you're thankful not to find any bone fragments in.

"What made you move on from that life?" Perhaps it's an out-of-line question a gentleman shouldn't be asking, after all he's no more than a stranger to you, but learning a pretty thing such as yourself may have a similar background to himself makes him forget all manners.

"...It was destroyed by monsters some time back," You answer simply while taking a bite.

Twilight bows his head, shame burning inside, "...Oh. I'm real sorry to hear that."

Despite his fears of having caused offense, you merely shrug off any discomfort, “My family made it out alright and we make do with what we have now. Can't go complaining about that."

"...I'm from a farming village myself - From Ordon,” He goes on to tell in a quiet ramble, “I’ve worked there as a ranch hand practically all my life, overseeing the goats we’re famous for. It’s quaint, and about as far from the big towns as you can get, but homely. And the people there - Why, I don’t think you’ll find anyone more kind and welcoming. Like livin’ in one big family.”

Once again, this probably isn't something he should be saying. If it were him, he'd be beyond distraught to lose the ranch to the point that any reminders would send him spiraling, yet to his continued good fortune, you take his story for what it's meant to be, setting down your spoon with a comforted smile.

"I'd love to see that…" Orondian, how you enchant him with such a soft gaze, taking him hostage in the sea of your sparkling eyes. If Hyrule's tales are any indication for the horrors of this broken world, you must be a true diamond in the rough to be from a place so cruel. Any less personal control and Twilight wouldn't hesitate to ask you to join them - to come along on this adventure and see how beautiful life will someday be. He could take you to Ordon and show you all he’s come to adore - let you breathe the fresh air scented like hay and pine while overlooking the familiar green fields you’ve dearly missed. Who knows? Maybe you’d even ask to stay. 

“I’d love to show you…”

"...Is this still a group conversation ooor?" Wild pipes in awkwardly from Twilight’s side, seeming to speak on everyone else’s discomfort as the poor, stricken young man loses himself to this yearning in his heart. This might be a long night and an even longer day tomorrow if they get stuck listening to him fawning over you...

You’re starting to doubt this shift will ever end…

It feels like you’ve been stuck in here for hours with nothing to do aside from sit at the counter and beg the sun to set just a little faster. You've already restocked inventory twice, organized stock to perfection, and swept the floor until your broom broke…If this keeps up, your sanity might just break, too.

Ringing from the front door’s bell gives you at least something to do as you sigh your typical greeting: "Welcome to Gia's General Store, where we have all your - LINK?!"

With a complete shift in mood, you happily leap up from your stool and race around the corner to meet your friend halfway in a tight embrace that you've both gone far too long without, "It's been ages! How have you been? Where have you been?"

Four chuckles at your eager questioning, "It hasn't been that long."

"Really? Because I swear five years have passed from this shift alone…" You groan dramatically before breaking away from the hug to get a solid look at him. Despite the months that have passed, he looks no different than when he had first set out. Good. You like him just the way he is anyway. 

"Please tell me you're planning on sticking around for a bit. I’ve been dying for something interesting to happen around here and your stories are just the salvation I need! I only have an hour to go until I can close up, though I'm afraid I might stab myself with a fire arrow before then. It’s been terribly boring!” 

That, Four doesn’t doubt. Your home village is as serene as they come which isn’t always a favorable trait in the judgement of two teenagers with more energy coursing through their bones than they know what to do with. Of course, he’s probably done no good helping matters by always filling your head with envious dreams of adventure and mystery. 

“We’ll probably be spending the night in town,” He tells you, much to your relief, “In the meantime, we have quite the list of supplies that we need to restock on, if you don’t mind.”

"We?" Somehow you only just notice the group of young men who managed to sneak into the store after Four. A few of them are already looking around at the items you have to offer, while others wait patiently with the hope that they'll be introduced to...Well, whoever you are to their dear friend.

"I would introduce everyone, but we all share the same name."

"All of you?" You look at Four in shock, yet he nods as if it's the most normal thing in the world to him...Then again, it probably is at this rate. Honestly you shouldn't be that surprised yourself. This is Link you're talking to.

"...Huh...Well, feel free to have a look around, I guess, and let me know if you need anything in particular. Arrows are buy one get two free right now, and fully in stock, too, since Link - Er, this Link, hasn't been in town to buy us out,” You explain to the group, jutting a thumb towards Four who rolls his eyes.

Now, usually you become a bit overwhelmed whenever large groups enter your shop, but seeing as these guys are Four's friends, you feel comfortable letting them wander freely. It helps that they seem to know exactly what they're looking for, too, making your job all the easier.

For the most part, the group allows Four and you privacy to catch up, only interrupting your conversation occasionally whenever they have questions about your prices or the quality of your goods, however you aren’t blind to the curious glances they spare you even in silence. No doubt they’re wondering how deep your relationship with Four goes, finding it endearing how at peace the young hero has become in your simple presence.

Most of these glances are quick enough, although you can’t help noticing that one of the boys seems to lack the same subtlety as his friends. Each time you steal a peek through the corners of your eyes, you spot him staring in your direction with an awed look overtaking his face. Whenever someone else nudges him to ask a question, he blinks rapidly with a stammer before bashfully looking away.

‘Cute…’ You’re tempted to think, but then you take notice of how young the boy seems to be. He must be at least a few years younger than Four and you - still a just child, at least by your standards which is an upsetting thought since context clues point to him being a hero, too. If that’s true, that must mean he was as young as Four was when he first set out on all this hero business himself, if not even younger. Poor kid…

Soon enough, Four confirms your suspicions about his traveling companions’ identities, telling you all about the strange portals they’ve traveled through and the journey they’ve been on up until this point. It was mere hours ago that they found themselves this close to home and, well, he couldn’t bear to pass by without seeing you or his uncle.

“Smart. I would’ve been livid had I found out you were in the area and didn’t stop by,” You elbow Four who pushes you back with his shoulder playfully before suddenly glancing behind you. Following his attention, you find the youngest hero standing there shyly, a minish feather necklace in one hand and a small pouch of rupees in the other.

Wind startles, seeming to have not expected your turn, “I, uh, wanted to know how much this was - um, is…So that I can buy it, if I may - for my little sister!”

You notice Four hiding his smirk behind his hand, yet you elect to ignore him for now, instead giving the younger boy your full focus with a kind smile, “How sweet of you. Consider it on the house, kid.”

“R - Really?” He brightens with possibly the widest eyes you’ve ever seen.

“‘course. Think of it as payment for helping my friend here find his way home safely.”

“Wow, thank you miss!” Oh goddesses above, his smile is adorable! He reminds you of the village children who often come here seeking sweet treats, such a simple delight to create lasting joy in their hearts. How you wish you could return to those days yourself - to no longer bear the weight of the world and its troubles in your thoughts. Alas, you could never so skillfully rewind time, but at least you can help protect that same innocence in others, even if only for a moment.

And protect it you do. Even late into the evening, Wind still cherishes that necklace in hand, carefully inspecting its details while kicking his feet giddily in memory of you, the pretty shopkeeper from Four’s Hyrule.

Sure, it probably isn’t that big of a deal. You gave the entire Chain a rather generous discount on their supplies despite their protests, but he was the only one who received your kindness personally without having to share. No one else aside from Four had the joy of seeing your beautiful smile directed his way, your expression soft and comforting like a warm breeze on the summer’s beach. 

He hadn’t lied. He does plan on giving the necklace to Aryll once this journey is over, but until then, he’ll probably admire it a little longer, at least until this crush of his settles within his heart.

[yanderes-galore]

hey can I request a yandere alastor (platonic - friend or family) with another deer demon reader

I feel the idea that you're related would be interesting to mess around with. Especially since your similar demon types.

Yandere! Platonic! Alastor with Deer Demon! Darling

Pairing: Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Overprotective behavior, Murder, Blood, Violence, Cannibalism, Gore, Possessive behavior, Dark/Mature themes, Forced companionship.

Oh you bet I have a backstory for this one.

Alastor's demon form is no doubt based on folklore more than an actual deer.

So here's the thing, when I think of deer darling for his obsession... I think you'd be different from him.

I feel you'd take on more deer characteristics rather than folklore, a much more "innocent" take on a deer compared to Alastor.

For this concept I imagine when you were alive you were related.

You were either siblings or a kid he had, up to you, but you're most likely siblings based on his canon sexuality.

In terms of backstory, I imagine Alastor manipulated you into going along with what he does.

He taught you how to kill, he made you commit to cannibalism, he made you his accomplice.

Due to being manipulated into committing sin, your demon form is a much more innocent form compared to Alastor.

While Alastor takes the form of and acts like a hunter... you look like a fawn compared to him.

When you died, it was with Alastor.

In fact, imagine if he was always protective of you.

Always jealous... always possessive to the point his targets were often those of your friends.

By the end of your life he was insistent you die together.

You could barely react before your blood trickled onto the ground.

Truthfully, in a different environment, you could've gone to Heaven.

But sins never go unpunished, bringing you here with Alastor.

You're an accomplice, that's reflected in your appearance and behavior.

For example, perhaps you were still forced into compliance when Alastor began killing Overlords.

Despite the violent nature he displays, he's always been fond of you.

Poor you, younger than him yet still a young adult.

So easily threatened and manipulated, always kept isolated even now so the radio demon can keep you in his grasp.

Imagine when Alastor disappears for a bit he doesn't take you.

He wants to, in fact, he dreads you not being around him.

But... orders are orders, right?

That's how deals work....

Yet you know he's racing back to track you once he's summoned to help the Hotel.

Another idea could be Alastor already has your soul due to your past together.

Intimidated by him, you gave him your soul, binding you to him indefinitely.

The first soul under his belt.

If that's the case, you're just summoned to the Hotel instead of him searching for you.

Other Sinners and demons no doubt fear you by association.

Alastor keeps you dressed in similar attire to himself, yet with some differences that reflect how you used to dress.

People fear the radio demon and his fawn.

You're not as bad as Alastor, but demons know if they're too close... it pisses off the radio demon to put it in simple terms.

Alastor is affectionate with you due to your bond.

He has your soul and you're family.

He towers over you and never feels the need to pull your chain too tight.

After all, you're used to listening to him.

Always the adorable and obedient fawn for him....

Alastor is naturally fierce when it comes to his behavior.

You're barely able to make conversation with other demons and Sinners without Alastor lurking behind you.

He always acts so charming around those you talk to, just like how he did when you were both human.

The only people he doesn't monitor you too heavily with are those in the Hotel.

Charlie always seems so invested in you, you're one of the better candidates to be redeemed.

But as we all know, Alastor won't let you be redeemed.

Husk originally keeps his distance, but can't help but feel a sense of companionship due to you both being owned by Alastor.

Angel Dust no doubt is flirty with you, commenting how odd it is how someone so small and "cute" can be related to the radio demon.

In reality, you're not fully innocent, but no sadist either. You got to Hell somehow, after all.

Alastor really does hate it when Angel flirts with you.

Vaggie pities you for being dragged into Alastor's crimes.

Meanwhile Nifty is obsessive with the fact Alastor even has a relative down here.

Alastor is patient when it comes to the Hotel STAFF speaking with you.

You're definitely kept away from The Vees, not that you'd want to be near them anyways.

You are important to the radio demon, someone he can't lose.

You two have been beside one another since being alive.

Now you two are Sinners, even if you shouldn't belong.

Alastor no doubt still influences you, offering you more cannibalism as though he's showing the power he has over you.

The taste is still nauseating, the blood too familiar in your mind.

Yet Alastor only coos, speaking about what you two would do together as though it was nostalgic.

All while your lips are tainted in blood.

Alastor finds joy in killing other Sinners who get too close.

All so he can pick you up and drag you around.

You two have always been an infamous duo.

While you may want redemption... Alastor will always drag you back to him.

There's no saving you... ever since he made you commit your first crime, there was no chance of saving you...

You were always meant to be Alastor's darling little fawn....

[lennadanvers]

The Heartbreak Chronicles

Eddie Munson x Reader

Edward The Freak Munson was your first love.

(He preferred to be called Eddie).

(That’s why you called him Edward. It was his father’s name, too).

He was also your first heartbreak. And the worst one yet.

It started in Hawkins. All the bad things in your life had started there. You couldn’t have been more than five years old, and Edward was almost adorable back then. He was fun, had an amazing imagination, and loved playing with you. You loved him, too.

You slew dragons and fought in the name of Queen Buttons- your stuffed hippo- for years, so when his first actual battle came, you expected to be by his side.

He didn’t, apparently. His mom was gone and his father abandoned him. Eddie ended up living with his uncle in a place that held little resemblance to a castle.

Of course, he didn’t tell you any of that. Instead, he described the infinite garden he had in his new home; how it was full of adventures and characters out of a tale. He told you about the dangers he faced- the monsters in the hallway, the darkness wanting to take him, the fae that stole his lunch. He explained that the way to his abode was long and full of traps and risks. He didn’t want you to venture into such a dangerous path.

So you didn’t. With Eddie, imagination and reality were always too close to see the difference. Besides, he was just as energetic as always. He even gained some weight; it was easy to tell.

There were other changes, though. Ones that happened slowly. Seamlessly. His favorite color went from red to black. He said once it reminded him of his mom, and proceeded to ask what colors you liked best in the same breath. His childlike interest for shiny things evolved into a collection of chains. They started appearing clasped onto every pair of jeans he owned. His laugh was louder every time you said something even remotely funny.

And his eyes were weaker and weaker.

They used to have a wild spark. Two dark bonfires, the promise of well-intentioned mischief. But his laugh was a gush of wind, and every time he opened his mouth it was like blowing at the agonizing embers.

It was a dark spell, a silent curse that poisoned him- or so you thought. He bailed on you one time, and you forgave him instantly. Who woulnd’t? He said he was sorry. And did it again a couple weeks later. Nothing to worry about. He hadn’t bailed in literal years; you could cut him some slack. Until there weren’t any more sleepovers or playdates, no more walks to find treasures by the forest or cheap ice cream listening to his stories.

Then came the summer break, and Edward disappeared. Not really, of course. You saw him once with his uncle at the grocery store. Once. He was alive and healthy, as far as you could tell. Then where had he been? Why hadn’t he been with you, as usual? You didn’t even remember summers without him.

The last day of vacation, you found a silly little dragon ring. It was most definitely made out of plastic, but it was gold and has two fake diamonds as eyes. With a little bit of imagination, it could pass as a dragon rider’s ring. It was meant for Edward, of course. Who, if not him, would wear it with pride?

But he never wore it. Not even to try it on when you gave it to him.

It was the first day of school, and, after years of friendship, the first day you sat alone in class. Which was stupid because he also sat alone. His hair was gone, and his eyes looked even bigger. It just made it worse when he smiled and nodded as a thank you, because there was no light in them. The fire had gone out, at last.

You had tried, alright. Over and over. But if the princess didn’t let his hair fall, then there was no way for you to climb the tower and save him.

You made friends with other people, life went by. It never stopped for things like this.

That was the first time Edward Munson broke your heart. At least, that time he had the decency to do it slowly, carefully. A death by natural causes. He didn’t have the same consideration the next time.

A/N: new series!! A little old, actually, but new for you guys! Hopefully it's at least entertaining. Chapters will be short but bitter, just the way I like my writing ;)) If you want me to, I can make a taglist (I have one for Pure Imagination, but I don't know if anyone will be interested in being tagged for this one), just comment or send an ask and I'll add you. Have a nice week! ♥️

[bunkoos-mole-enthusiast]

Weekly Jungkook Fanfic Recs

Some fine JK fics for your reading pleasure. 🔞 Please show your appreciation to all the wonderful authors :)

The Forgotten Spaces: You've been dancing on the same dance crew since your teenage years, and you finally have an important role in it. It feels like life is taunting you when your rival comes back after disappearing for a year, ready to tease you every chance he gets. Will the teasing turn into more, or are you going to take him down with you? https://www.tumblr.com/oddinary4bts/714163315613614081/the-forgotten-spaces-masterpost-jjk?source=share When The End Comes: Seven years after you've started dating Jungkook, long distance creates a wedge in your relationship. When the only solution seems to be breaking up, you go your separate ways even though love still lives in the two of you. Will you find a way back together, or has the end come for you and Jeon Jungkook? https://www.tumblr.com/oddinary4bts/727637458044469248/when-the-end-comes-masterpost-jjk?source=share&ref=oddinary4bts

The Boy With Galaxies In His Eyes: You had never thought the night sky could be found in someone’s eyes. That is, until you met Jeon Jungkook and his gravity pulled you in. Will he crush you with the galaxies in his eyes, or will you learn to explore his worlds and make them yours? https://oddinary4bts.tumblr.com/post/694226660441128960/the-boy-with-galaxies-in-his-eyes-jjk

Sinful Lust: In an attempt to spice up your bedroom life with your boyfriend Min Yoongi, you suggest bringing another man into the action. Yoongi seems reluctant at first, but when you mention his friend Jeon Jungkook, he can’t deny his attraction. All that’s left to do is to convince Jungkook into participating... https://www.tumblr.com/oddinary4bts/724853153529495552/sinful-lust-masterpost-myg-jjk?source=share

Oh My God, They Where (Quarantined) Roommates: What do you do when you're quarantined for months on end with Jeon Jungkook - S-tier cuddler, workout robot and thirst trap extraordinaire? Fuck him, you guess. https://ot7always.tumblr.com/post/624575056240050176/oh-my-god-they-were-quarantined-roommates

Once Bitten, Twice Shy: You meet Taehyung college and he convinces you to move to his hometown with him. The town is nice, Taehyung’s friend are great, and you get along with everyone except Jungkook. You can’t seem to figure out what you’ve done to make him not like you, and why did you care so much? Also, why did none of them ever get cold? https://www.tumblr.com/pbandjk/184635794224/once-bitten-twice-shy Alpha Jeon: You’ve been raised to be a Luna since you were born. You’ve always had an idea of how your future would be, there was little room to imagine anything different. You’d meet your mate and fall madly in love, and the two of you would take over for your parents once they got older. But what happens when a certain wolf comes in and throws all of your plans on their head? https://www.tumblr.com/pbandjk/636812449904017408/alpha-jeon-masterlist

Bite Me, Jeon: Somehow you convince Jeon Jungkook to look into theories of vampirism for a research paper. What Jungkook doesn’t expect, is for vampirism to become a very real and very personal problem for him. https://sailoryooons.tumblr.com/post/683613241221464064/bite-me-jeon

Habits Of A Clandestine Nature: College au. https://www.wattpad.com/story/365219172-habits-of-a-clandestine-nature-%E2%80%A2-jjk

Silver Chains: Jungkook is inquisitive, he likes asking questions. He also likes fucking. These are both great qualities - when done separately of course. After the Muster, he asks you numerous questions, but whether they were out of genuine interest or purely to tease, the answer escapes you (as always). https://satnin-darling.tumblr.com/post/654462205050355712/ silver-chains-m-one-shot-jeon-jungkook

[citrusici]

LU Star Wars AU: Part 5

LAST BUT NOT LEAST ITS TIME AND SKY LETS GO

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4

Time

Time is a direct survivor of Order 66. He was a child living in one of the more remote temples when everything happened, and was able to escape alive by fleeing into the dense forests of the planet.

Time spent many years after that traveling on his own and not getting close to anyone out of fear of being found out, or worse, left behind. He holds a certain bitterness towards everything that's happened, and when he was a teenager, he was involved in a major incident on the planet Termina. Time finally decided to bury his saber on a remote planet after that, unwilling to take on the responsibility that comes with it.

Time actually ended up meeting Sheik and donning Mandalorian armor some time after that in his teenage years. He doesnt always gel with Mandalorian warrior ideaology, but he doesn’t truly fit the Jedi way of his childhood anymore either, after all the war and death he’s seen. He's determined to be strong enough to protect those he cares about, like Malon.

Time doesn't entirely get along with the Chain at first. (Especially Warriors and Twilight; Warriors reminds him of his old Jedi master, who wore a red scarf, and Twilight's saber looks suspiciously familiar.) The boys eventually grew on him anyway, and he counts them among the people he cares about.

Sky

Sky comes from a gaseous planet in the Outer Rim with settlements that float in the clouds, constructed far above its surface.

Sky's planet is a bit of a cosmic mystery, since it should be impossible for islands of solid rock to float; some theorize that it was constructed instead of naturally occurring, or that there is a unique combination of magnetic fields and orbits that make it possible, but no one knows for certain. Loftwings are part of the planet's ecosystem of impossible floating islands, and are an important part of the culture there.

Being so remote, the Empire didn't show much interest in Sky's home planet until Ghirahim showed up. The Empire hasn’t taken over his home yet, and he is determined to keep it that way, along with the rest of the Knights of Skyloft (including Sun). Ghirahim's interest in the planet involved rumors that there was an old Jedi temple hidden on its surface, and the secrets that were hidden within it.

Those rumors turned out to be true; there was an ancient abandoned temple on one of the floating islands, and Sky and Sun ended up discovering it before Ghirahim did. Sky also found a protocol droid named F1, and with Fi's help he and Sun managed to forge their own sabers with the only remaining kyber crystals there.

Sky's connection to the Force manifests mostly as visions, and he occasionally experiences strange, cryptic dreams as a result.

Linked Universe AU belongs to @ linkeduniverse!

[huramuna]

stoatfaced, dragonhearted - oneshot.

dark, mean prince regent aemond x wife reader

for my 200 followers poll, i've actually had this one cooking for a while so i'm happy this option won! this is absolutely filthy, i'm sorry in advance.

word count: 2.4k

i don't do taglists any more unfortunately, its mostly because i never remember and then feel bad about it so i've made a second blog just for reblogging my fics! @huramuna-fics -- follow & turn on notifications for just my fic postings!

content: slight dub-con, smut (specifics below cut), angst, mean aemond, toxic relationship, like in no way is this healthy, good god, smut with little plot, reader is described being from riverlands w/ auburn hair and brown eyes, no use of y/n, not beta read, i literally went into a haze writing this there are probably mistakes

tonight you belong to me - patience & prudence • vampire - olivia rodrigo

warnings: p in v, choking, breath play, dom/sub, degradation, creampie, cockwarming, orgasm denial, breeding, aemond is so mean here thats its own damn warning

Aemond knew what he wanted and the sacrifices that needed to be made to get such things. He wanted a dragon, it took an eye to get it. He wanted the Conqueror’s crown, it took his brother being burnt to get it. He wanted a legacy that would surpass his lifetime, etched into the very being of Westeros itself. The sacrifice needed for this would be to chain himself to a woman he likely wouldn’t be interested in.

That is where you came in. 

You were sweet, he supposed. Sweet in a way that made his teeth ache. Sweet in a way akin to a mouse and how it looked up at the cat just before his jaws snapped around the mouse’s head. 

He didn’t need to like you. Many marriages were forged in dislike or just plain indifference, set to a mutual goal. He supposed your mutual goal was children. All he needed was to use you as a vessel, a womb for his seed to take hold. 

You poor thing, you didn’t really understand that he didn’t truly care for you. You were nice enough looking, of course– hair that reminded him of autumn leaves, always styled in some intricate style with half a hundred braids, dozens of pins and decorative pearls. You reminded Aemond of a stoat, dark eyes against muted auburn fur, lips always pursed, sniffing the air in search for hounds on your tail. You certainly were a skittish, jittery little thing.

The marriage was a quick affair, done at the Sept two days after Aemond wore the Conqueror’s crown for the first time. You weren't a part of some major house, all of the major houses were too close, too greedy, their breaths hot against his neck as they shoved their wedable daughters at him. The last thing he wished for was to be indebted to some trivial lord who thought his name elevated him to the same stratosphere as Aemond– a paltry lady of some low house bred in the Riverlands would do just fine, he expected his Valyrian seed to dominate any of their week genes anyhow.

He had met you once before, many years ago before he lost his eye. When he was forced to tag along on some meager diplomacy meeting with his grandsire– he remembers it as being forced, but in reality, he wished to attend. What else was a second son with no dragon to do? – and you had been there, hiding behind your father’s trousers. You had been wearing a blue dress, he remembered this distinctly, as it stood out against the ruby red of the apple you had offered him. 

Aemond had tried to speak with you, but you only communicated in nods and soft noises– something you only partially grew out of. He never understood why he remembered this girl, as you were insignificant in the seas of faces he’s met over his life. Mayhaps it was your quiet nature that he remembered, something that, now at his age and state of mind, struck him as malleable, easy to mold into what he needed you to be. 

And so it shall be. 

–

It was about two and a half moons after your marriage, he returned from a late council meeting. Rubbing his eye, feeling the familiar thrum of pain right behind the socket, he was already in a particularly sour mood. The council meeting had gone south, ending in most of the lords bickering over one another like children. 

It irritated Aemond to no end, the strain of an oncoming headache ever looming. He still struggled with intense pain from his eye, or rather, his socket and severed nerves. The pain was debilitating at times and if anyone dared to test his patience when it was particularly bad, he would snap at them like a cornered animal, no matter who it was. 

Raising his head, he noticed the hearth was still going strong, multiple candles still lit in the solar, despite it being late at night. The now familiar crop of auburn hair was peeking from behind the couch— his wife was usually never up this late. 

“Why are you still awake, wife?” he asked as he took off his gloves, clenching and unclenching his fists. 

“… reading. I was waiting for you.” you murmured in your usual hushed tone, the sound of your book closing was louder than your voice. 

“I told you not to do that. It’s unnecessary.” he grunted in response, undoing the latches of his leather doublet. 

“I-I don’t mind it… I just sleep a bit easier…” you continued, no doubt twiddling the end of your braid between your fingers— an anxious habit.

“You need proper rest. I won’t have my wife looking like a sleepless, sloven mess,” Aemond chastised, discarding his shirt. “Now, what are you reading?” he was becoming increasingly irritated with you, feeling as if he had to force you to take care of yourself and unlatch you like a leech from him. When you looked upon him with your wide eyes filled with uncertainty and fear, he felt the overwhelming urge to wrap his fingers around your throat and squeeze until you passed out or mayhaps went limp, like a doll.

“Oh,” you slid the book towards him on the side table, it was a book on the history of Old Valyria and its language, usually used for children to begin speaking it. “Nyke j-jaelagon… naejot ēdrugon… va ao.” I wish to sleep next to you. 

Aemond’s brow furrowed. “What use do you have to learn High Valyrian, wife? Issa dōna ābrazȳrys mijegon nykeā notion isse zȳhon bartos, wanting naejot gūrēñagon mirros ziry daor.” My sweet wife without a thought in her head, wanting to learn something she cannot. 

You reached for the book, your comprehension not skilled enough yet to pull what Aemond was saying to you. Before you could grab it, he slammed his hand down on the book, effectively snatching it from your grasp. You pouted her bottom lip. “I want to learn… mayhaps it might bring us closer together.” 

Aemond scoffed, the sound sending a sting of pain right into the core of your chest. “We are as close as we need to be, little one. We are married in the eyes of Gods and men and we fulfill our marital duty by trying to produce heirs, hm?” He placed the book back on the shelf. “This nonsense of wanting to be closer is moot. I won’t hear of it anymore.” 

A glaze of sorrow flashed through your eyes before you got up from the couch, tightening the housecoat around your shoulders. 

“Come to bed,” he said, moreso as a command than a suggestion. “I know you are cold, ābrazȳrys.” Wife. 

You made a small noise of discernment, crawling into bed after him. 

He looped his arms around you, pressing you to his bare chest. He radiated heat like a furnace and was quick to warm you up– you were always so cold, he noted. He surely hoped that your children together would inherit his fiery blood and not the weak-willed, uninsulated Andal blood you possessed.

Aemond bounced from being indifferent to you, paying you no more mind than a maid or a whore, to needing you, every part of you. He didn’t see you as a person, moreso an extension of himself, latched onto his body until he consumed you entirely, your bones fusing together as one. To him, you were a doll or plaything to entertain him, testing the mettle of your will, to see if you were of poor craftsmanship and would break. He had always broken his toys as a child.

You could tell by the rhythm of his breathing, he wasn’t going to sleep just yet– you’d become very attuned to his moods, his small intakes of air against your neck causing your skin to prickle into goosebumps. His lips ghosted over your throat, one of his arms coming up to wrap near the base of your windpipe, not yet applying pressure, but the threat was there. 

No, it wasn’t so much as a threat than it was a promise– he quite liked applying pressure to your airways when you coupled, his lone violet eye centered intently on yours as they went from wide to half-lidded, soft whimpers of pleading to stop, sometimes for more, more. He relished in holding your very life in his hands and you let him. 

“Mayhaps I should get you a collar, wife,” he hummed, his voice husky and deep, reverberating deep within your chest as your heart pounded. “But I think you like my hands much better, don’t you?” 

“Y-yes,” you breathed, the small swallowing bob of your throat felt against the palm of his hand, causing him to grin. “... I fancy them– on my tender neck… between my legs…” you responded, feeling slightly bold at the notion you put forth. The heat of his body permeated your skin, warming your core into an ever familiar feeling.

Aemond all but growled at your comment, positioning the both of you to where you were laying with your back upon him, as if you were lazing upon him like a chair. “Feeling courageous tonight, are we? No matter, my dear, you will break all the same,” his mouth pressed to the shell of your ear, teeth nipping at your lobe. “Like every night before, and every night to come– your life is in my hands,” he enunciated this with a squeeze to your neck, eliciting a small mewl from you. “Is it not? Say it.”

“M-my life– belongs to you, husband,” you managed to squeak out.

“Not husband, not now. You know the rules.”

“M-my king, your grace,” you rephrased quickly.

He clicked his tongue in slight admonishment. “A bit slow on the take tonight, little one,” Aemond muttered, slotting his leg between yours and kicking your thighs apart. “Keep them open.” his voice was dripping with something between venom and sticky sweet honey. He felt akin to a God every time he was in the sky, every time he sat the throne with the crown on his head, and every time he rested his hand on your pretty little throat as he sheathed himself to the hilt inside of you so easily, so free of resistance. “So slick for me, just from the smallest of chokes– fucking whore.” he hissed, starting a slow, deliberate pace as his hips met against your bottom. The pair of you were like two threads, intertwined with his legs pretzeling around yours, keeping you spread open. 

Your breath hitched in your throat as he continued to bully that sensitive, spongy spot within you– but you craved so much more, feeling waves of heat emanate from your sensitive bud as it screamed at your brain, begging to be touched. You made the critical error, thinking your husband was too focused on his own pleasure to notice you going for your own, as your hand slowly descended between your legs, rubbing small circles upon your pearl.

How wrong you were.

His arm came up further, his bicep pressing to the bottom of your chin, his free palm slapping your hand away from yourself. “Are you truly fucking stupid tonight, wife?” he spat, stilling his thrusts. “When did I say you could touch yourself? Have I fucked you stupid already?” Aemond huffed in frustration. “My poor, dumb wife– you cannot do anything right, can you?” he slid you off of him, then flipped over to loom atop you, taking both of your hands within one of his, his large hand encapsulating your wrists with ease, trapping them above your head. 

You sniffed, tears welling at your lash line, threatening to spill– not just from his downright mean admonishments, but from your stolen gluttony, your pleasure stolen so close to the precipice. “‘M sorry, your grace,” you cried, “Forgive me.”

“You’re lucky you have such a sweet cunt,” Aemond mused, his immodest and downright sinful language going straight to your core as he nestled inside of you once more, menacing atop you like a darkening cloud. “I forgive you– and will even pleasure you. That’s what you want, isn’t it? To come?”

You nodded fervently, your lamenting tears spilling over and running down your cheeks.

“I’m feeling quite generous, then– I’ll let you. If you beg me.”

“P-please–” you blubbered, “Please let me come, my king.”

A sickly smirk came over his face once more as he pushed forward again, not bothering with the slow and meticulous pace he had before. His hips slammed into yours as he surged into you, as if you were nothing more than a cocksleeve for his pleasure. And yet, and yet– his hand didn’t move to the apex of your legs, chasing his own high before he would give into yours.

“Aemond, please, please– please touch me, f-fuck, your grace– my k-king, please!” you were all but wailing now, half in ecstasy and half in pure beseechment, pleading for just some semblance of the lecherous, stimulating and lewd sensation that only he could give you.

He took mercy on you, the pad of his thumb zeroing in on your leaking folds, giving your clit a cheeky pinch. It was a delightful pain– that was what being with Aemond was, what it came down to. Every waking moment with him was thrilling, sublime, agonizing, unending torture– and you fucking loved it. 

Your mouth hung open, you were sobbing freely now, your lips quirked into a euphoric and maddened smile. “Thank you, tha-nk you, t-thank you, I love you, I love you,” you gasped, your lungs ballooning with air as you begged him further, “P-please, around my neck–” 

Something animalistic came out of Aemond at your request, his hand draping around your throat like a necklace. “My sweet, dumb wife– you don’t know what to do unless I tell you, unless I let you, unless I guide you to your release, hm?” he prostrated each word with a deep thrust. The combination of his ministrations on your bundle of nerves, the head of his cock callously beating into your sweet spot, and the squeeze of his hand around your neck– it was enough. 

With a garbled string of words, prayers, denotes of love, pronouncements of his prowess, his titles, his name– the coil inside of you snapped, lighting every nerve you had in your body on fire. You saw stars as your climax wracked through you like a tempest, the absolute vice grip of your core sending Aemond into his own completion, his seed painting your walls and then some.

In your fucked-out delirium, you thought you might’ve heard him say something– you didn’t decipher it until later when you were half asleep, his softened member still lodged inside of you somehow as he curled you into his chest.

“My love, my wife– I love you.”

[skmhlml]

Pyramid Head x Reader (HC)

Note: Im not gonna try to sugar coat this character, I'm a top-level MonsterFucker. 😈

💉 Pyramid Head will always be taller than you, larger than you, and stronger than you. He is not nice he isn't soft, he is rough and mean if you do not do everything he wants you to do. Much harder because he physically can't talk.

💉 His fixation isn’t borne from love or desire- it’s a relentless compulsion to enforce retribution. Once he singles you out, it’s not about affection or connection; it’s about control, terror, and inevitability. You are a symbol of something deeper, though he never explains it— he simply looms, silent and oppressive.

💉 once he takes more interest in you than regular victims you're done for. It doesn't matter how much you cry and beg, he isn't sympathetic in the slightest.

💉 He won't listen to anything you say, and he won't stop either, there is no escape no matter what. You are stuck here, your ankle or wrist huffed to a single old hospital bed in a small room, with barely any view from the half-boarded-up window.

💉 Pyramid Head’s inability to speak only adds to the terror. His lack of words means no explanations, no reasoning, and no warnings. When he approaches, the screech of his dragging blade across the floor is the only indication of his mood. Sometimes, it feels almost as though he waits for you to speak just so he can disregard it.

💉 his actions are always harsh, whether he’s feeding you scraps, dragging you back to the bed after the 100th failed escape attempt, or simply looming over you, his grip like iron shackles. You’ll leave with bruises if you’re lucky.

💉 Over time, you begin to lose hope of escape. You might start rationalizing his behavior, attempting to please him, or convincing yourself this is some form of warped survival tactic. Even when you give in, though, his intensity never wavers—he is relentless, because that’s his nature.

💉 If he ever shows mercy, it’s indirect. Perhaps he doesn’t chain you as tightly one day or leaves the room for longer than usual. Even these moments feel more like calculated psychological games than genuine kindness, designed to keep you questioning his intentions and your sanity.

💉 You aren’t just cuffed to the bed; you’re often restrained in ways that leave your wrists, ankles, or even neck raw and bleeding. He doesn’t care about the injuries he inflicts; your pain is secondary to keeping you exactly where he wants you.

your still a victum just a little more wanted…

[mulloey]

the new girl • ateez

ateez gets a new pet

warnings: bdsm au. dom!ateez, sub!reader, use of bdsm terms but they’re not hard to figure out, more experienced ateez, rewards and punishments, bdsm training, impact play, pet play, praise and degradation, cocky & patronising ateez, implied bisexual reader, orders, naked female & clothed males, finger blasting, anal play, oral (f receiving), mouth fucking (with fingers), voyeurist ateez at times, taking turns, no penetrative sex. everything you’d expect from a bdsm au tbh

—————

A few days ago you could never have pictured yourself in this situation, or any like it, for that matter. But here you are, in a private room of a bar in Gangnam with eight men who seem genuinely interested in making you their submissive. How their even knew you were into that kind of thing is a mystery — or would be a mystery, were it not for your smug looking best friend behind the bar who’s been talking for months about setting you up with some of the people who patronise these rooms and make little secret (to the staff, at least) of what they use them for. But to your friend’s credit, she’s managed to pick, out of what you’re sure has to be scores of creeps and weirdos, eight extremely attractive, extremely interested men.

“We usually find our partners through matching sites and meet them here for the first time,” they’d explained, “but we’ve been out of luck recently, so we thought we’d try to find someone the old fashioned way. And when your friend behind the bar told us what a natural submissive you are, we knew we had to meet you for ourselves.”

You’d blushed at that, both at their words and the fact that your friend had so wantonly offered you up like that. But it’s true that you’re naturally submissive, and she has reason to know it; in college you’d done casual scenes a few times with her, and though you never ventured much further than whips and chains and yes ma’ams, the little you had explored was enough to show you and her just how submissive you are, and want to be. And if she trusts these strange men, who surround you like predators and stare at you like prey, then so do you.

They seem to have heard the stories too, of just how easily you’d caved when she praised you or ordered you around, and they definitely seem to like those stories. And even though you’re essentially being interrogated for your suitability as what some would call a sex slave, you feel comfortable and at ease with them, which you didn’t even know was possible in a scenario like this. So when they ask if you’d like to meet again to explore this further, you don’t even bother to blame the wine for how quickly you agree.

They offer to squeeze you into their cars to drive you home but you decline, insisting it’s not worth the trouble. With a half-joking you won’t be ordering us around for much longer they call you a cab, bidding you farewell with a quick hug each. The leader, Hongjoong, adds his contact to your phone and slips a black business card into your back pocket.

“I’ll see you soon, puppy,” he smiles.

Over the next few weeks you text and call back and forth with the men. They’re kind, unexpectedly patient and gentle considering the type of relationship you’re quickly moving towards with them. In just your luck, their schedules take them out of the country two days after your first meeting, and by the time they’re back and have enough time off to give you the attention they want to, you’ve known them for a couple of months, and like them, you’re impatient to start.

But ever the careful and responsible dominants, they insist on a few more in-person meetings with each individual member — “for your safety, puppy, and ours,” they say — before you finally get the call you’ve been waiting for.

“Hi, honey,” Hongjoong greets. “Are you ready to start?”

——————

Days later, you meet them again in a cafe in Gangnam. It’s a pretty unique set-up for a cafe, a little darker and more ambient than most, but it suits the purpose of your meeting well. You spot them quickly, huddled around a table in the far corner of the room and they see you too, waving you over. It’s only four of them, you note, not the eight you’d met the last time. They stand to allow you the choice of where to sit and you choose a seat at the edge. You know them fairly well and have no doubts of their intentions, but you know you’ll feel more at-ease knowing you can get up and leave quickly if needed. The others settle in, Yeosang next to you, Seonghwa and Hongjoong opposite, and Jongho at the end. Their gazes are fixed on you and just as intense as you remember them.

“Uh…” you start. “Where are the others?”

“We thought it’d be better if less of us came this time,” Hongjoong explains. “To make it less overwhelming for you.”

“It’s something we should have considered last time,” Seonghwa adds. “We apologise that we didn’t.”

You smile, shaking your head. “No, it’s fine,” you say.

“It’s not,” Jongho says, “but it won’t happen again. Did you bring everything we asked?”

You nod, reaching into your jacket pocket to pull out a crumpled sheet of paper with everything you’d been told to pack. “I think so,” you say as your eyes move down the list. “Yes, I think I remembered it all.”

“We’ll see later,” Seonghwa smiles. “It’s not a problem if you didn’t, though. You tried your best and you’re new to this.”

The others hum in agreement and you smile nervously.

“You even wrote it all out, didn’t you?” Jongho says, gesturing to the list in your hands. “Good girl.”

“Thank you,” you whisper.

“Would you like me to explain the plan for this week?” Hongjoong asks gently.

You nod, staring down at your hands as they fiddle in your lap. A larger hand comes to rest atop them, holding them still and you look up to meet Yeosang’s firm gaze on you. “Look at him and answer him properly, sweetheart,” he says, gentle but stern.

You nod, feeling stupid and look up at to see Hongjoong staring expectantly at you. “Yes please,” you say and he smiles, easing up.

“Good girl,” he praises. You blush, bowing your head in embarrassment and Yeosang clicks his tongue, wordlessly chastising you. You mumble an apology and meet Hongjoong’s gaze, who praises you again. “Think of it as a trial run, yeah? We want you, we know that, but we need to see how it will work. What kind of arrangement will suit you best.”

You nod in understanding. Yeosang releases your hands from his grip but you grab his arm as he starts to move it away, needing someone to hold onto while you digest it all. He smiles and takes your hand back in his, squeezing it gently. “Good girl,” he mumbles.

“Are you with us so far?” Seonghwa asks.

“Yes,” you say.

“Good,” he smiles. “So for this week, we’ll all be getting to know each other and getting used to our new dynamic. We’ll start figuring out the kind of submissive you are and the kind of training you’ll need. That make sense to you?”

You nod a little dazily, starting to feel overwhelmed. None of these words are new to you, of course, even in this context, but they’ve never been so real to you before. To be spoken about like a pet, a submissive in need of training, is a lot to take in. It’s also strangely, embarrassingly thrilling. “It makes sense,” you confirm. Your voice catches in your throat at first but if they notice, they don’t care. Maybe they enjoy it.

“What, um…” you trail off, feeling awkward, but a nudge from Yeosang encourages you. “What happens at the end of the week?”

The men share a look that you can’t quite decipher. “Well,” Hongjoong says, “it’ll be up to you. If you’re happy with how things are going and want to commit, you can stay with us. You’ll keep your own place, of course, but we’ll move the things that you’ll need to our place and start making it your main residence.”

“But if you want to take it slower,” Jongho continues, “which is always an option, I might add, we’ll take you home and continue getting to know you more casually, just like how you would in a normal relationship.”

“And of course, ending our arrangement entirely is an option too,” Yeosang adds. “At any time.”

The others voice their agreement and you smile gratefully. “Thank you,” you say. “I’ll remember that.”

The oldest two smile, sharing a look before Seonghwa speaks. “If you’re ready,” he says, “there are four people at home waiting very patiently for your arrival.”

—————

Their home is large, in a nice, quiet area of the city where little could disturb — or be disturbed by — you. Your bags are carried by Jongho as Seonghwa leads you by the hand to the front door. Before he can even get the keys out of his pocket, the door swings open, revealing an excited looking San standing eagerly in the doorway. “Hi, baby,” he beams at you.

“Were you watching from the window?” Seonghwa asks. San nods unashamedly and the elder mumbles something that he ignores.

“Come in, baby,” San says. “We’re waiting inside. Can I take her in, Seonghwa?”

“It’s up to her,” Seonghwa says, smiling down at you. “She can make her own decisions. For now.”

For now. His words dizzy you slightly and you can practically see the evil plans forming behind San’s eyes. He offers his hand and you take it, turning to Seonghwa. “Are you coming too?” You ask.

He smiles fondly, shaking his head. “We’re gonna get everything set up in your room for you first, honey. San’ll take care of you.”

You nod with slight uncertainty but allow San to lead you through to the living room. The set up is… interesting, you think. A massive TV, typical for a house of men, surrounded by black leather couches and chairs arranged almost in a circle. The coffee table’s been moved from its spot in the middle, leaving it, or so you have a funny feeling, open for you to be displayed to them. Just the sight of the arrangement has you feeling like prey, but what’s more intimidating is the man on the couch who looks up with interest when you walk in. He smiles kindly as he stands to greet you, but you see the look in his eyes. Without them saying anything to you, it’s clear what your place is just from the way these men look at you. You’re their toy, and they’re your owners.

“There she is,” the man — Wooyoung, you remember — breathes. “Hi, doll.”

You wave shyly at him and he smiles. “Cute,” he says.

“You remember all our names, right?” San asks and you nod. “Good girl.”

“Bring her over here, Sannie,” Wooyoung says. San nods and guides you over to sit on the couch, sandwiched between him and Wooyoung.

“Can I touch you?” Wooyoung asks. You nod and he smiles, pressing a hand to your cheek. Without realising and almost instinctively, you nuzzle into his touch and he coos, stroking your cheek gently. “You’re such a puppy, aren’t you?” He hums. If you’d been confident enough to meet his gaze, you’d have seen the dark, predatory look in his eyes.

“Wooyoung,” you whine, embarrassed. He coos again and you blush deeper, hiding your face from view.

“She’s going under already,” San chuckles. “Such a natural, aren’t you baby?”

“Already toying with her, are we?” Someone interjects. You look up to see Yunho in the doorway, staring amusedly at the scene in front of him. “I thought we agreed to wait.”

“I can’t help it, Yunho,” Wooyoung replies. “She’s so pliant.”

Yunho cocks an eyebrow, taking a few steps towards you. “Is she?”

“Just so easy,” San affirms, running a hand through your hair. “Such a darling puppy.”

You moan softly at the sensations of the men on each side of you running their hands over your body. Yunho chuckles, shaking his head. “I’m sure,” he smiles. “Do you think she’s ready?”

San and Wooyoung share a look and you stare at them quizzically. “Ready for what?” You ask quietly.

Wooyoung smiles down at you fondly. “Don’t worry, baby,” he says. He looks up at Yunho. “I think she is. Where’s Hongjoong?”

“Here,” comes a familiar voice. Hongjoong emerges from behind Yunho, his eyes finding you the moment he walks into the room. “Hey, bunny.”

You like that name. “Hi,” you squeak.

He smiles like you’re the cutest thing he’s ever seen before turning his gaze to Wooyoung. “What did you want me for?”

“I didn’t,” Wooyoung says snappily. Hongjoong rolls his eyes. “We were wondering if you think she’s ready yet.”

His older’s eyes widen slightly but he seems to consider it for a second. “If Seonghwa agrees,” he decides. “Then so do I. I thought we’d wait a few more hours, but…”

“Yeah, not happening,” Yunho says. “It’ll be a tall order keeping these two off of her until then.”

The men beside you glare at him but don’t refute his words. You still don’t know exactly what it is you’re meant to be… ready for, but it sounds important. You wonder what it is that Hongjoong won’t agree to without the elder’s assent.

“Do you know where Seonghwa is?” San asks. “And the others?”

“In her room, I think,” Hongjoong says. “Just finishing up. Should we call them down?”

The three share a look, silently deciding before they nod, small smiles on their faces as they give Hongjoong their agreement. He nods, and you can see he’s smiling too, but in a different way than he’d been smiling at you earlier. There’s something behind it, a desire maybe, or an intention, that you can’t decipher. You’re not entirely sure if you want to. But you’ve willingly put yourself into his hands, all of their hands, and you’re desperate to see what they do with it.

When he calls the others down they come separately, but soon enough all eight of them have gathered in the living room with you. Even as they talk to each other about things you don’t understand, their eyes are set on you. You feel tiny and describable but also oddly safe. They stare at you like a toy, sure, but a fragile one. One they want to cherish and protect as much as play with. You already feel comfortable and warm surrounded by them in a way you didn’t know you could.

After a short and indecipherable discussion with Hongjoong, Seonghwa briefly moves his gaze from you to give him one final look. When his eyes return to you they’re even darker than before. Deep down you know that something, or someone, has just flipped the switch.

“She’s ready,” he says. “Let’s start.”

You hear your breath hitch, feeling your heart begin to race and Wooyoung hushes you, stroking your head. “Don’t worry,” he says. “It’s nothing to be scared of.”

“It’s really not,” San assures. He turns his gaze to Seonghwa who keeps it briefly before he shrugs, a small smile on his face. “We’re just gonna play with you. But the first time is always special.”

You nod, a little less nervous but still, your first time playing with them, being their submissive, is no small thing. It’s a moment you’ve been playing in your head for weeks, months — what it would be like, what they’d be like, what they’d expect, how they’d do. In the days leading up to this meeting you’d been kept up with nightmares of failing them, of falling short and being kicked to the curb despite how often they’d reassured you that they’d never, ever do that. And now that moment’s here. Time to prove yourself — or not.

San and Wooyoung stand up, pulling you to your feet by each of your arms. They each press a kiss to each of your cheeks before walking away to join the crowd, leaving you alone and watched, completely surrounded by them. Truly a prey among predators. They regard you silently for a few minutes, eyes running up and down each inch of your body before Hongjoong speaks.

“We’re going to give you a little test, pet,” he says. “It’s not to see if we want you, because you’re already ours, but to see how much training you’ll need.”

You nod in understanding and he clicks his tongue, already displeased. “The first lesson is verbal answers,” he says. “Unless we tell you not to speak, you respond to everything we tell you in words. Yes sir or no sir will do. Do you understand?”

You nod again, but realise your mistake quickly and squeak out a weak “yes sir.” Hongjoong smiles approvingly.

“Strip down to your panties,” he says. “Put them on the chair then come back to stand over here. Do it now.”

You breathe out another “yes sir” and do as he commands. You turn away from the men as you undress, too embarrassed to face them but you can still feel their eyes burning into you. Your hands shake as you unbutton your shirt, folding it neatly before placing it on the chair as instructed. Your bra quickly joins it, then the skirt and tights until all that’s left are your tiny white panties, clinging to your hips as you turn around nervously.

You feel exposed, clad only in one flimsy garment and surrounded by eight fully-clothed men. Their gazes are dark and intense on you and you’ve never felt more vulnerable. But they look pleased, which eases your nerves slightly.

“Very good,” Hongjoong says approvingly, gaze fixed on your chest. You blush, hands instinctively reaching to cover your chest but you think better of it before it’s covered. Just in the nick of time, you think, if the scowl on Yeosang’s face is anything to go by.

“Smart girl,” Seonghwa chuckles. “Are you ready to start?”

“Yes, sir,” you say. He smiles gently and beckons you towards him. As you approach him, the others move to form a circle around you. You gulp, somehow feeling even smaller than before. You’re truly trapped now.

“Right then,” Seonghwa says, clapping his hands together. You flinch at the sudden sound and you hear a few of them chuckle. With your eyes cast down, you miss the glint that crosses each of their eyes at your obvious fear. “We’ll start by seeing which commands you already know. We’ll teach you the ones you don’t.”

“Yes, sir,” you say.

“Look at me,” he says. You look up, meeting his gaze nervously and he smiles.

“Down,” he says.

It takes you a moment to register the command, and by the time you do it’s clearly too late. Seonghwa sighs, looking disappointed. He nods to a man behind you and before you can register it, five hard slaps are delivered to your ass. You yelp and try to lean away but the man snakes an arm around your waist, pulling you backwards into him.

“Disobeying already,” he breathes and you recognise the voice as Wooyoung. You whine and he slaps you again, this time reaching around to hit the front of your thigh.

“Don’t complain,” he grumbles.You breathe out an apology and he hums, rubbing the pink mark on your thigh with momentary tenderness. “And no more talking. You’re a puppy now”

You nod, and your first instinct is to apologise but you think better of it, literally biting your tongue to keep your words in your mouth. Wooyoung notices, chucking lowly before he steps back from you.

Jongho steps forwards, commanding your attention as he approaches you. He gets close enough to kiss you, close enough for you see the small details of his face, but that face is emotionless. Focused.

“This is your second lesson,” he says. His voice is even lower now, with a new quality you don’t recognise. But you know exactly what it is — dominance. Control “When we say ‘down’,” he says, “you get on your knees. Instantly and without question. If you don’t, you’ll be punished. So let’s try that again. Down.”

Desperate to obey, you let your legs give out, falling to your knees with hopeful eyes on him.He smiles, pressing a hand to your cheek and letting you nuzzle into it. “Good dog,” he says. “Up now.”

You spring to your feet without thinking, basking in the pleased looks on their faces. “Clever girl,” San praises. You smile shyly at him and he smiles back. For the first time since you’ve met him, it doesn’t reach his eyes.

Then Jongho steps away, leaving you alone and surrounded again. You do your best to stay still, figuring that’s your best bet to avoid Wooyoung’s heavy hand for now.

They let you stand there, exposed and vulnerable, for a few minutes before moving on.

“Come,” Yeosang says. You start to walk towards him but he stops you with a raised hand. “Crawl.”

You gulp, shakily lowering yourself to your knees and crawling towards him. It’s only a few feet, but the thick silence and the feeling of their stares on you makes it feel like miles. It barely registers with you exactly what’s happening right now; you’re naked except your skimpy panties, surrounded by eight fully clothed men, crawling towards one of them at his command. You can’t think of anything more humiliating. Or arousing.

When you reach Yeosang he reaches to stroke your hair. “Sit,” he orders. You sit back up onto your knees and he smiles. “She’s learning fast,” he says.

The others hum in agreement. “She’s clever,” Mingi says, sounding proud.

“She is,” Yeosang agrees. “ Alright, pet. The next commands are easy. Eyes up.”

This time they give you a second to figure it out and you do, meeting Yeosang’s gaze with hopeful eyes. He nods. “Eyes down.” This one is much easier to figure out — you drop your eyes to your lap, contrite and humble. “Good girl,” he says. “Isn’t she good?”

“The best,” Yunho purrs. You don’t notice him creeping up behind you until you feel his big hands wrap gently around your throat. After a few more commands, properly obeyed depute your shaky start, he speaks again. “Shouldn’t we reward her now, Joong? She’s done well.”

A few others chime in their agreement and Hongjoong hums. “You’re right,” he agrees. “Come here, baby.”

You crawl to him, slightly faster as you begin to get to the feeling of it, and Hongjoong crouched down to your level, holding his arms out for you to crawl into. He lets you snuggle into his chest for a moment before pulling away, moving his hands to gently hold your face.

“Tell me,” he whispers. “How do you want to be rewarded?”

The answer slips out before you can consider it. “Fuck me,” you say. At his raised eyebrow, you tack on a whispered, “please, sir.”

Hongjoong smiles, running his thumb over your lips. When they part slightly he slips it into your mouth, letting you suckle at it. He looks enamoured by the sight. “No, honey,” he smiles. “You’re not ready for that yet.”

“I am,” you insist, nodding fervently.

Silence briefly abounds before Hongjoong slaps you across the face, quick and wordless, like this is a normal way for him to express his displeasure — which, when it comes to you, it probably will be. “Don’t disagree with us,” he snaps. “What you think doesn’t matter anymore. You’re not ready.”

You bow your head. “I’m sorry, sir. I’m not ready.”

Hongjoong nods. “Turn around and show me your ass.”

You obey, turning slowly on your fours until your ass faces him, leaving you facing the rest of the men. They stare at you with fascination and scrutiny. Hongjoong runs a hand down your ass cheek with feather-light touches. You feel electricity prickle up your spine, fearful. You’ve displeased him and spoken out of turn and you worry about the consequences. His hands aren’t the largest in the group but he mentioned he works out and he’s still much larger and stronger than you, so you don’t doubt that he could cause you a lot of pain if he wanted to. A few cracks of his hand against your ass would no doubt leave it stinging and you shiver at the thought.

But the harsh, punishing strikes you’re expecting don’t come. Instead he runs a long finger down the centre of your ass until it lightly grazes across your pussy. You squirm at the feeling. The others smile at the sight as their leader pushes your panties to the side to press a finger into your heat. “How does she feel, Joong?” Seonghwa asks.

“She’s perfect,” comes Hongjoong’s voice from behind you. It’s slightly strained and raspier than before. He’s clearly just as affected and you feel proud. “Tight and warm like we thought she’d be.”

You make a noise of surprise and he shushes you. You knew they’d have talked about you in your absence, but you hadn’t considered that they’d have talked about…this specifically. And the way they talk about you like a thing, like you’re not even there, is objectifying in the best way. Everything about this is hotter than you could have imagined. Even the slightest touches set your skin alight and they know it.

Hongjoong curls his finger slightly and you jolt forward a bit but he quickly pulls you back, wrapping an arm around your neck to put you in a near headlock. “Easy, baby,” he whispers. “Easy.”

You look up to see the others have inched towards you, surrounding you completely. They each look thrilled in a different way, and you’re desperate for their touch — any of them. All of them.

“Please,” you gasp. You can barely speak through Hongjoong’s grip on your neck but they hear you.

Seonghwa comes to kneel in front of you, cradling your face in his palms. “Oh baby, baby,” he whispers melodiously. “So pretty like this.”

Mingi and San join Hongjoong behind you, running their hands over your ass and their fingers through your wet folds as Hongjoong adds a second finger to your hole. With the two fingers inside you he spreads you open, allowing the other two a perfect view of your stretched out pussy. “Fuck,” they both breathe. “The prettiest little pussy I’ve ever seen,” Mingi says and San agrees.

Jongho and Wooyoung and Yunho and Yeosang take their places on either side of you. Wooyoung reaches to play with your tits, grabbing and squeezing them and slapping them where they hang below you. His hits are hard like the ones he’d delivered to your ass earlier, and soon your pretty tits are decorated with red marks. The other three seem content to watch and palm themselves as Hongjoong works you open and Wooyoung abuses your sensitive tits, while Seonghwa pushes finger after finger into your mouth, lazily fucking your throat with his long digits. You gag and choke when he pushes them deeper but you do your best to suck them. Seonghwa tuts when you choke particularly violently but he seems pleased with your efforts. “You’ll make such a perfect cock sucker,” he muses. “You’re such a natural already.”

You whine around his fingers, stuffed into your throat and covered in your drool. He presses a kiss to your forehead before he pushes them in deeper. You choke but keep them in your throat and you hear Yunho whistle. “She’s dedicated,” he says admiringly.

“She was born for this.” Seonghwa speaks through gritted teeth and you look down to see his hard cock straining against his pants. You’re not sure what you were expecting exactly, but you’re surprised by its thickness. You’re not quite certain how it will fit inside you.

Returning your gaze to his, you’re met with total, almost feral darkness in his eyes. “Don’t tempt me,” he grunts. “I’ll ruin you.”

He pulls his fingers from your mouth, slapping you across the cheek a couple of times until your face is red and covered in your saliva. Hongjoong’s keeping a steady pace as his fingers pump into your pussy, but there’s so many sensations, so many strong hands on you, that you can’t quite process it all. Your awareness of each man goes up and down with each movement they make and you’re completely overwhelmed.

Painfully quickly, Hongjoong pulls his fingers out of you, leaving you empty for one merciful moment until the men next to him take their turn. Mingi presses a finger to the edge of your asshole, not penetrating it, just gently and softly teasing the rim, but the feeling is enough to make you buck against him. His other hand grabs your waist, holding in place. “Have you never played with this hole before, baby?” He asks.

You whine, shaking your head and he laughs. “You’ll be used to it soon enough,” he says. “It’s Jongho’s favourite hole, isn’t it?”

Jongho laughs and though you know he’s right next to you, he sounds distant and out of reach. You gasp at the feeling of another, thicker finger on your asshole. Unlike Mingi, Jongho doesn’t hesitate, pushing his finger into you. It’s a completely foreign feeling, much different to the feeling of your pussy being penetrated, but in some weird way it almost feels… better. Maybe it’s the resistance your tight hole puts up against him, stretching around him then sucking him in; or maybe it’s the degrading, humiliating feeling of knowing every one of your holes is being used and explored by these men. Either way, you’ve never felt like this before and you don’t want it to stop.

While the two men play with your asshole, San dives into your pussy, latching his mouth onto it and exploring it with his tongue. You’re fairly certain Hongjoong’s fingers have already made you cream but if San notices, it clearly only spurs him on as he eats you relentlessly, pushing you quickly towards the edge.

“Fuck, San!” You scream and he growls, landing a hard slap against your already red cheeks.

“That’s not my name,” he snarls. His voice is muffled by your pussy like he couldn’t bear to pull himself away from it even for a second. You must taste good, you think with pride, but another harsh slap reminds you to respond.

“I’m sorry, sir,” you say.

You feel San smile against your pussy, large hand soothingly rubbing the red mark where he’d slapped you.

While you were distracted by the three men playing with your holes, the other five have stood up, retreating to the surrounding couches where they’ve somehow even served themselves wine without you noticing. You look up to see them watching you intently, small smiles on their face as they lounge around, taking in the sight in front of them. You must look pathetic, you think; face covered in your own sweat and drool, entire body littered with red handprints and three men stretching and playing with your holes. But you can see from the faces, and bulges of the men on the couches, that they love it as much as you do.

San pulls his mouth off of you, replacing it with his fingers before you can complain or even register the absence. He works you open a little more gently than Hongjoong, but the pumps of his fingers are strong and precise. On their side of him, the other two have started a game of how many fingers they can fit in your asshole. They do it carefully, wetting their fingers and inserting them slowly, with each finger they add you’re stretched a little more and it burns. Deliciously.

Your mouth hangs open, breaths strangled as you lose yourself in the feeling. You feel your eyes roll back as San speeds up, pumping three fingers in and out of you. Mingi and Jongho pull theirs out, rubbing your loosened asshole almost soothingly as San keeps going, faster, harder, deeper, until all it takes is for him to press this thumb firmly against your clit for you to let go, coming all over his fingers.

As soon as you’re done you collapse, letting your body fall to the floor in exhaustion. Mingi and Jongho pull their fingers out of you with moaned praises, gently stroking your back. With his fingers still inside you San lifts you up, pulling you back to lie against his chest. His fingers don’t move inside you, just sitting there like a comforting presence as he adjusts you to a comfortable position. He pulls them out slowly, hushing you when you whine softly at the loss, and settles you so your head is resting on his chest, just under his neck and chin so he can easily lean down to whisper to you. “Didn’t know you were such a squirter, baby,” he mumbles.

Too fucked out to respond, you just groan and he chuckles. “I’ve got you, honey,” he says. He starts to sway, rocking you back and forth soothingly. You hear him say something to someone else, you think Jongho, who laughs and hands him something. You look up to see San wiping his hand, wet with you slick, onto a towel. He sees you watching and smiles down at you, pressing a kiss to your head before reaching down to move your panties, still bunched to the side to expose your dripping hole, back into place.

You hear other voices around you as your eyelids start to droop. With San’s hand rubbing comfortingly up and down your back, you let yourself fall asleep, snoring softly against his chest. He watched you with a fond smile. “She’s asleep,” he announces to the others.

“Good,” Yeosang says, “she deserves it. She did well.”

Hongjoong hums. “Better than I thought. I’m so glad we found her.”

“I’m gonna take her upstairs,” San says. The others agree and he slowly stands, holding you carefully in his arms as he carries up to your new bedroom. They watch as he leaves before turning to face each other. It’s silent for a few long seconds before Wooyoung speaks.

“This is going to be so much fun.”

—————

hi! thank you for reading my first full-group fic! if people enjoy it i plan to make it into a series, but i deliberately wrote it so it can be left as a standalone as well. so please comment and let me know what you’d like! i really appreciate seeing everyone’s feedback or thoughts on my writing, and it encourages me to write more too. so please let me know. if you want this to continue, i’m also happy to accept requests for it as well as my regular requests. just specify☺️! thank you for reading as always! please reblog & comment, i can’t wait to see everyone’s thoughts on this! my seonghwa fic will be coming soon as well. please forgive any errors, i have proofread but things may have slipped through. love🖤🖤🖤

[onlinedolly]

jealousy, jealousy !

a/n: my ramble about yasu! i’ve loved this man since sixth grade so i hope u like it as much as i loved writing it rheheheheheeh

cw: jealous yasu, p in v, cream pies, roughish sex

yasu’d watched dozens of women be persuaded by takumi, always watching from the sidelines as takumi would smirk, lean in close to them and mention how he had a hotel room big enough for two. yasu had always disapproved, shaking his head and rolling his eyes, but who was he to say anything? until now. you were young, a groupie of BLAST, probably in your first year of college if yasu had to guess. and pretty, just like takumi liked, just like yasu liked, long hair and doe eyes enough to make any man swoon.

you’d come to nana’s apartment, an early fan meaning you’d worked your way up to a friendship with the members, and the trapnest members had joined as well. you all sat around the nana’s kitchen table playing poker and sipping on beers as everyone but you and hachiko chain smoked cigarettes. takumi sat close to you, too close, as he whispered something yasu couldn’t make out in your ear. you blushed a bit, flustered as you pushed takumis chest playfully making yasu cringe. he was at his limit by now, watching how takumi had flirted with you all night, be began to feel his blood boil over. he didn’t know why he was so protective over you, maybe it was how young you were, your innocent nature. or maybe it was the way your doe eyes would lock with his, brushing your hair over your shoulder with a big smile, that made his cock stir in his pants.

the night carried on, with everyone getting more and more drunk as takumi had found the courage to wrap his arm around your waist, pulling you close. it was nearing two in the morning at this point and yasu knew if he didn’t put an end to this you’d just be another notch in takumis bed post (so to speak).

“i’ll walk you home.” yasu interjects just as takumi was about to slip you a hotel key. takumi eyes him scornfully as you mumble out an okay before sliding out of the booth seat.

the air was crisp as yasu and you walked the ten minutes to your small apartment, the silence suffocating as yasu searched for something to say.

“he’s not a good guy,” yasu settles on, looking at you from the top of his sunglasses he always wore, even late at night.

“who?” you spoke back, taking a turn as you look up at him.

“takumi.” yasu all but spits his name out as he sees your complex come into view, “just watch yourself with him, would you?”

you laugh then, loud and light, and it makes yasu almost stumble over his footing at hearing it. it’s nearing january and yasu notices your rosy cheeks and nose as your eyes crinkle up when you laugh and it makes yasu think things that made him feel downright disgusting.

“i can handle myself yasu.” you laugh more, bumping your shouldering into his arm as you enter your complex, yasu in toe.

you’re climbing the stairs as yasu continues to scold you on takumis “womanizer” ways and honestly you’re half listening as you give him an occasional eye roll.

“i’m not that interested in him.” you say honestly, reaching your apartment as you turn to look at him, “the flirting was harmless, i know better.” you speak out matter-of-factly with a nod to your head.

“you say that until he works you into his bed.” yasu crosses his arms over his chest as you unlock the door letting you both in to your small apartment.

“his bed isn’t the one i want to be in.” your tipsy self states before you could bite your tongue, and you have to resist slapping yourself against your forehead.

in reality, you’d always noticed how handsome yasu was, he was kind and handsome and spent so much time caring for you and everyone else it was hard to not develop a crush. but to almost expose yourself like this? how stupid could you be? you just hoped he didn’t press the matter.

he did in fact press the matter, leaning against the island of your kitchen as he hums out, “yeah? what does that mean? got a crush i don’t know about?”

you huff out, not wanting to press the matter further as you joke, “yeah it’s ren. you think nana’ll kill me?”

“no…. because you’re lying.” he rounds the island stepping close to you and he can smell your perfume and beer wafting off of you and it makes him stir as he tries to keep his composure. he need to stay calm, keep his hands to himself, be better then takumi. he can admit he was attracted to you, anyone with eyes would be attracted to you, but he had to remain calm. especially when you looked at him with that hazy, tipsy expression, your cheeks still flushed from the cold and alcohol as you leaned against his bigger frame for support.

“then i guess you’ll never know!” you laugh again, leaning closer into his body for support. he felt warm against you, safe like he always did, and you wondered if he felt this warm underneath his clothes, if he would burn you up with his body ontop of yours, if he— no. that wasn’t okay to think. and you’d hoped he hadn’t caught onto your thoughts.

but yasu wasn’t stupid, he’s noticed the way your body inched closer to his, how your legs clamped together, and yasu wondered if you’d felt the same. he wasn’t drunk, but he was tipsy enough to let his reason be diluted by alcohol. so when he turned himself around to face you, his chest pressed against your side, he noticed how you didn’t inch away from him and it thrilled him. he tested the waters then, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and turning you so your flush with his chest.

“who you thinkin about, sweetheart?” he asks, a raspy-ness to his voice that made you shudder. he moves a piece of hair away from your face, looking down at you as if he could eat you whole and you felt heat rise form within you. “promise i won’t tell.” he whispers.

and you’re not sure where the courage comes from, maybe it’s the alcohol or maybe it’s the heat rising from inside you but you shift your weight between your legs as you whisper out, “you.”

and that’s all yasu needs before he’s crashing himself into you, placing his lips against yours in a rough kiss which you immediately reciprocate. the kiss is hot and all tongue and teeth as he wraps one arm around your waist, the other hand finding itself wrapped up in your hair as he pushes his face into yours as he completely devours you. yasu pulls away long enough to look you in the eyes and speak lowly, “i’ve been waiting to hear you say that.”

you mewl as he begins to attack your neck with his lips, leaving open wet kisses from your jaw to your collar bone as he pushes your body impossibly closer against his. you can feel the tent in his pants pressing against you and it makes you shiver as your wrap your arms wrap his neck, leaning your head to give him more access to the hollow of your neck.

“jump.” he says, his voice full of lust and he lifts your body up onto the island. you waste no time as you part your legs letting him work himself between them as he grips the flush of your thighs pulling you closer to him.

“do you want this?” he mumbles into your ear, leaving wet kisses around it, “want me, angel?” he groans out when he feels you shift around, his voice affecting you in more ways then one.

“more than anything.” you breathe out as he works on pulling your top over your head, taking his large hands and palming your breasts through your lacey bra once he gets your top slipped off. you’re a mewling mess, whimpering beneath him, and it just eggs him on as he works on unclasping your bra.

once he works your bra off he wastes no time in attaching his lips around your nipple and he heard his first moan from you, broken and loud as you wiggle around underneath his touch. or fuels the fire from within him as he bites down on a nipple, causing you to yelp out.

“keep making sounds like that pretty girl, i won’t be able to help myself.” yasu groans, taking his hand and tweaking at your other nipple. you’re a moaning mess, rocking your hips for any sort of friction. yasu picks up on it, slipping his hand into the waistband of your skirt and underwear, ghosting your clit as you cry out for him. “you like that, hm? sweet thing.” he groans, pressing two fingers against your nub. you’re moaning and begging for more as he laughs softly, “patience, little girl.”

he begins circling your clit making your mouth open in a silent moan, his fingers are rough against your clit yet his movements are soft and delicate, enough to work you up to the edge quickly. “i’m gunna—“ you cry out, but he interrupts you, pulling his fingers away from your core causing you to cry out.

“not yet, pretty. bend over the island.” you do as he says, quickly adjusting yourself so your chest is pressed against the cool surface. you’re on the tips of your feet and you feel yasu lift your skirt up, pulling the lace of your underwear down. “god baby,” he groans out, taking palming your ass roughly, “you don’t know how long i’ve wanted this.” you hear his other hand pull his pants down, you can feel his cock spring out against you and it makes you mewl.

you turn to look, wide eyes as you realize just how big he is. long and thick and leaking precum and it makes you bite into your lip hard. “think you can take it all, angel?” he laughs, spreading you apart with his hands to marvel in your drooly cunt. “you’re fucking soaked.”

yasu takes his cock in his hands, rubbing it against your cunt, toying with your clit making you shiver. “mmmph!” you whine, pushing yourself towards him.

“greedy thing,” he groans out, lining himself up with your entrance, “ready sweet girl?”

you nod as much as you can, a hazy expression over your face as you bite down on your lip harder. yasu pushes himself inside of you and you whine out loudly, it felt like he was invading you, large and completely filling you up. he’s groaning, deep and animalistic, as he goes slowly giving you time to adjust to him.

“fuck, sweet thing. fuck.” he moans out, pushing himself all the way into you. you’re gripping the smooth surface of the counter, whimpering as he begins a steady pace in and out of you. he goes slow at first, slow steady thrusts as he runs his hand up the expanse of you back.

“h-harder.” you whine out, face flushed as yasu nods his head, gripping your hips and slamming into you roughly. it jolts you forward legs hitting against the island as yasu begins fucking into you ruthlessly.

“look so pretty like this, yeah?” he hums fucking into you hard, “takumi couldn’t appreciate you like i can baby.” he moans, slamming your hips back against his cock as he thrusts into you. you’re a mess, whining and moaning underneath him as you cry out his name. he’s going impossibly fast, bullying your g spot with each thrust, your body knocking against the island as you turn into an overwhelmed mess. “that’s right, sweetheart. takin it so—“ he thrusts hard into you, “good.”

you can feel the heat inside you rise as yasus thrusts begin to feel sloppy. your whining and telling him you’re about to cum as he ruts into you, “hold it sweet thing. almost there.” he grunts out, leaning down to place open mouth kisses along your spine.

“cum.” he grunts out, and you both come undone. spasming around his cock as he cums deep inside of you. the heat of his cum makes you orgasm harder, your body convulsing and shaking as you whine out his name over and over. he’s grunting, practically growling, as his hips stutter and he releases inside of you mumbling on about how takumi could never make you feel this good. you’re both on cloud nine as your eyes glaze over and yasu bites into your shoulder to keep from screaming.

once calmed down, yasu pulls himself out of you, watching as his cum leaks down your leg, “gotta keep you forever now, baby. my girl.” he hums appreciatively, running his finger to collect some of his cum before pushing it back inside of you making you mewl out.

“you’re girl.” you agree, blissed out, as yasu places soft kisses along the curve of your body.

“always.”