#so i can find it later. i think i'll need it again

[ggidolsmuts]

TTYL, Unless? - Loossemble Hyunjin (ft. ARTMS Heejin)

After you got together with Heejin and Hyunjin, the world conspired to split the three of you apart, making them end up in different groups rather than being in one group like before. The three of you managed, but meeting up became both easier and harder—it was harder to meet both of them together, because their schedules never seemed to overlap, and yet it was easier in a way to meet each of them more often, since their schedules never seemed to overlap. If Heejin was busy touring, Hyunjin would come looking to go on dates. If Hyunjin was busy with her comeback, Heejin would be texting you to come out.

"Yah, what are you thinking about?" Hyunjin pokes you out of your daze. For now it is Heejin's turn to tour, and Hyunjin's resting, the two of you out and about on a quiet cafe date.

"Thinking about you!" You hold her hand a little tighter—you were in public, so it wouldn't do to draw more attention.

"Not Heejin?"

"When did my girlfriend become the jealous type?"

"Did you forget that Heejin is also your girlfriend?" She digs a nail into your palm, making you hiss at the sting. "But say it again."

"Say what?"

"That I'm your girlfriend." She's blushing, smiling to herself at your words. You pull Hyunjin towards you, hugging her in the middle of the street. "What are you doing!"

"You are my girlfriend, I don't care if people find out."

"Crazy!" But she stays in your embrace. "Let's head back home."

"Is everything okay though? You were never this... worried? Or wary? About Heejin?" The two of you stop by at Hyunjin's favorite bakery.

"No it's just after all that happened... we're spending a lot of time with you, but always separately. I'm worried that you will, you know, compare us, have a preference for one of us."

"Would you believe me if I say I don't?"

"Would Heejin believe you?" You pause for a moment, and Hyunjin takes the chance to sneak an extra pastry on to the tray.

"Yes."

"Don't lie, I know that Heejin is competitive, and you know it too." She grabs another pastry as your punishment for lying—Hyunjin's right, Heejin would definitely want to "win", regardless of the inaneness of the competition.

"Where is this coming from? It's not like we never hung out separately before we all agreed to be together." You sigh and pay for all the pastries.

"Yeah but that's before—" Hyunjin looks around and leans in. "That's before we started doing all of this, unless you were already comparing our bodies before you saw us naked?"

"Of course not!"

"So once you have, don't you have, you know, preferences? And one of us will be closer to your preferences? If you say we have the same figure I will stuff this bread straight down your throat." Hyunjin threatens, and you quickly shut your open mouth.

"I like you both, in different ways, no one is better than the other. How did you define your diet again?"

"What? Oh! I have a seafood diet, I see food, I eat food." Hyunjin cackles at her own bad joke.

"I'm just like that with you. When I see you, I want you." You add with feigned suaveness, sneaking a hand under the table to grab Hyunjin's thigh.

"Yah you are crazy! Eat your bread!" Hyunjin blushes and pushes you off, but you know she likes it.

"Tch, you're the one who kept talking about figures and having preferences."

"Hmph!"

"I need another coffee for these, do you want one?"

"Sure, thank you!" You shake your head as Hyunjin's happy once more, a pastry in each hand and chomping away. "Then we can go home!" She adds, cheeks puffing with bread.

You're lying on the sofa with Hyunjin, lazing the afternoon away watching a movie, when your phone rings.

"Hmm? Oh it's Heejin. Hey Heejin!"

"Oh oppa, is now a good time?"

"Yeah I'm just here with Hyunjin, what's up?"

"Oh umm, I'll just talk to you later then, have a good time with Hyunjin!" The phone is taken out of your hands and is placed on speakerphone.

"Yah, Jeon Heejin. You were going to do phone sex with oppa weren't you?"

"What?" "Yah Kim Hyunjin! How can you just say that?!"

"We talked about it, when we miss you while on tour. She suggested it, right Heejin?"

"Yes."

"I umm, I see." Your throat is suddenly dry. The phone is silent, but Hyunjin does the prodding.

"Do it."

"Really? Do it?" Heejin asks, you can tell she's considering it.

"I want to listen. We've already had sex together, the three of us, phone sex is nothing." Hyunjin kisses you, a hand slipping under your t-shirt. "Ask her what she's wearing."

"W-What are you wearing right now Heejin?"

"Oh, are you sure— I'm wearing a lace top, and umm, some shorts."

"Are the shorts as tight as the ones you wore on stage?" you blurt out, your mind already going back to when you first saw those fancams.  "I swear I could see where I should be in those photos." Hyunjin nods her approval, bringing up the pictures on her phone. This is weird but exciting.

"You saw those? Yeah they were really tight, I had to wear something looser the next night."

"Good, wouldn't want anyone else to see."

"Yes, just for you to see." Heejin's voice deepens, she's getting into it too. "What are you wearing oppa? Are your shorts getting tight too?"

"Yeah. I'll help oppa with it though," Hyunjin answers for you. "Let me take off his t-shirt first." She pushes you down on the sofa, putting the phone by your head, making sure Heejin can hear her kissing you sloppily.

"You should take off your top too Heejin," you mumble, pushing your hands beneath Hyunjin's. "Are you wearing underwear?" you ask as you play with Hyunjin over her bra.

"No..."

"So naughty, I wish I could see you topless."

"It's okay, just make Hyunjin take her top off." Hyunjin listens, pulling off her t-shirt and undoing her bra.

"She has now. Should I play with her tits?"

"Yes, I am too," Heejin sighs.

"Tell me what you're doing."

"I'm squeezing them, rubbing my nipples, they're, mm, pretty stiff." Hyunjin lets you sit up and do the same to her, her soft gasps merging with Heejin's over the speaker. "It feels good..."

"It does." Hyunjin agrees. "He's using his teeth, pulling on it a little, ah!"

"How hard is he?" You let out a deep breath as Hyunjin reaches down between your legs.

"Very. What do you want to do?" Hyunjin's breathing deeply too, her voice husky as she asks Heejin.

"I want to stroke him, feel how hard he is in my hands."

"She's stroking me, touch yourself Heejin." You hear the soft "ah" as the image of Heejin slipping her hand beneath her shorts surfaces in your mind. 

"H-How would you touch me oppa?" You quickly grab the phone and pull Hyunjin to the bedroom—with more room to maneuver you can touch her as she strokes you.

"Me? I would start slow, rub you over your panties, make sure you are soaking wet before I do anything else." You gently press between Hyunjin's legs—she's already sticky. Hastily she pushes her shorts off to give you better access.

"Oh yes... What then? Would you take off my panties?" Heejin sighs.

"Not yet." You say sharply, making sure that Heejin listens to you. "I'd tease you further, trace your shape over it, like those tight shorts you wore." Hyunjin whines, a hand on your arm, trying to get you to do more.

"Ah, I won't wear it again. Please?" Hyunjin strokes you faster, more firmly as Heejin begs, working in tandem once more.

"Good, take your panties off."

"Only if you take your underwear off." Soon you, Hyunjin, and Heejin are equally naked.

"Should I use one finger or two?" you ask.

"T-Two." 

"Ah!" "Mmm!" You hear Heejin's moan in one ear, and Hyunjin's in the other as you slip two fingers into her wet heat.

"So tight, so wet Heejin, I'm going to finger you."

"Yes! Yes do it!" You push deep into Hyunjin, feeling her tense and clench around your digits. You mouth silently to Hyunjin, asking her to tell Heejin what she's feeling.

"So deep in me already, he knows what I like, what we like Heejin. G-Go faster!" You start moving your hand more rapidly, feeling your fingers get wetter. The two of you can hear more of Heejin's moans now, louder and more frequent.

"Dont forget to touch your clit." You make sure your bump against Hyunjin's, and she has to bite back a cry when you do so. There's no muffling on Heejin's end, and her squeal comes through loud and clear.

"Yes oppa! Do more!" To her credit Hyunjin stays quiet, allowing Heejin to focus on herself and you. You feel her breaking down though, her hand on your cock forgetting to stroke you, an arm over her mouth to muffle herself. The phone sex is definitely turning her on—she's bucking into your hand, flat tummy flexing and tits jiggling slight as she twitches on the bed. You haven't seen Hyunjin quite like this in a while, and that's turning you on, now you want to finish her off properly.

"I'm curling my fingers in you," you utter into the phone, but you're doing it to Hyunjin, and the reaction is immediate.

"Ah!" A sharp yelp that Hyunjin can't help, and on the other end of the phone, an instant reaction from Heejin.

"Yes! Oh, I'm cumming, I'm cumming oppa!"

"Cum for me!" You plunge your fingers even faster into Hyunjin, and she's biting into a pillow, thighs crushing your hand. You watch Hyunjin and listen to Heejin, their orgasms seeming to blend together into something even hotter. Heejin's babbling, moaning incoherently while your fingers get crushed by Hyunjin's pussy—they seem to be in rhythm, each deep and harsh breath from Heejin in time with Hyunjin's contractions and small waves of slick.

"Oh... that was great oppa." Heejin sighs, and Hyunjin has finally released her bite on the pillow, both of them coming down from strong orgasms. "I really needed that."

"Good, I'm happy." You're too horny to beat around the bush. "I'm going to fuck Hyunjin now, so I'll talk to you later—"

"Wait, can I listen?"

"You want to listen?"

"Yeah, you don't have to talk to me, I just want to, er, hear you finish."

"I'm not going to be quiet," Hyunjin speaks up. "You know what he does to me."

"Yeah I— Fuck I'm already imagining it happening to me. Just pretend I'm not here." You hear the rustle of sheets, and the tiniest of gasp as Heejin tries and fails to keep quiet. You don't care though, as Hyunjin's stroking you again, making you aware of just how hard you are.

"Lay on your front." You grab the phone and place it by Hyunjin's head before getting on top of her prone form. "You know what he does to me huh? What else have you and Heejin said about me?" You nuzzle her neck, hearing her gasp as you push your head, then your tip, and then your shaft, into her.

"Hnngh! Sensitve, sensitive!" Hyunjin yields to you, albeit a little too fast. "Don't move!"

"Sensitive? You mean your song?" You earn a light smack for that.

"Of course not, I mean I'm sensitive, because I just came!"

"And I haven't!" Hyunjin groans. "But I'll give you a short break, what have you and Heejin been talking about?"

"What you like, what we like, what you do that we like, mmm!" You bottom out in her, and she's gripping you tightly.

"And what do you like Hyunjin?" True to your word it is a short break, and you can't help but begin moving, for now settling for rocking back and forth in her. "Better answer fast before I start fucking you faster."

"I like it when you kiss my neck, yes right there!" You leave a dark red mark over her favorite spot. "I like it when you touch me all over, show me that you love my body." 

"Of course I do." You squeeze everything you love about Hyunjin—her neck, her shoulders, her tits, her midriff, her hips. You squeeze her thighs with yours, making sure she's even tighter around you.

"Fuck, I love how tight you are, Hyunjin!" You put more force into your thrusts, slamming down on her prone form, her butt and thighs rippling when you do so. On instinct Hyunjin's raising her hips slightly, letting you press them back down on the bed, letting gravity get you even deeper into her.

"Y-You're so big, oh god, mmm, mm, mm! Hnngh Heejin he's doing it again!" 

"What?" You slow down again, distracted by how different she sounds. "Am I hurting you?"

"No, don't stop, just nngh, keep doing that!" Hyunjin's groaning, or perhaps grunting is the more accurate description, with every thrust, every time you put all your weight into her hips.

"Doing what?" You want answers, but with the way you continue to fuck her Hyunjin's quickly becoming incapable of responding.

"You're pushing against her womb, her umm, cervix," Heejin answers for Hyunjin. "When you go really deep you sometimes touch mine too—" Heejin cuts herself off with a sigh—she's touching herself again.

"Is that good?" Hyunjin freezes up when you nudge against it again, and you force yourself to slow down. "Please tell me if I should stop."

"No, it's really good, really really good, just not too hard." You cup her chin, tilting her head back and off the bed. It must feel amazing for Hyunjin, because she's gurgling when you sink deep into her again, nudging against the little resistance that's driving her mad. "Right— Uh! There!"

"What about... here?" You adjust your angle slightly, rubbing against her more familiar g-spot. Hyunjin coos, clearly loving it too. But you don't even have to ask when you do both on the same thrust, sliding your head against her g-spot before you drive your hips forward, nudging the entrance to her womb firmly.

"Oh my god, keep doing that, keep doing that!" The words rush out of Hyunjin, and her legs are kicking beneath you. "I love it!"

"What do you love about it?" You've pushed her legs apart slightly, giving yourself more room to plant your knees and really fuck her. You kiss the left side of her neck, then the right—you're going to leave a necklace of hickeys across her skin.

"That you're hnngh— filling me completely, stuffing me so full, ah!"

"Like your favorite pastries? Full of filling?"

"Yes, the best ones, where it's all meat, there's no empty space, and when I try to squeeze you... Fuck you're so hard in me!" Hyunjin's whimpering, and her attempted constrictions around you just drive you to fuck her harder. Your hips bounce off hers, the sound of skin-on-skin action extra satisfying as Hyunjin tries to push back against you, willing you to shove yourself all the way into her. Each successive thrust gets faster and stronger—Hyunjin's creaming around you, streaks of white coating your shaft as she's building to her own massive orgasm. She's as hot as a freshly toasted loaf of bread, warm and satisfying as you plant another kiss on the back of her neck. You've never seen Hyunjin lose it quite like this, the rapid and soft grunts telling you just how fucked to the limit she is, and soon the desire to fill her with your own cream becomes too much.

"Fuck, going to cum!" you growl, hugging her possessively, arm around her neck.

"Do it! Do it in me!" You pull Hyunjin off the bed as your hips slam down one final time, forcing her into an impressive arch as you bottom out and then pump out your load straight into her. Hyunjin cums in the very next instant, the shotgun blast of warmth right against her womb sending her eyes rolling into her head, her breath stopping as she climaxes powerfully beneath you. Everything about her short circuits and stops working; everything except her pussy, squeezing you like a piping bag, getting all the baby batter she can get out of you. After watching and listening to Hyunjin and Heejin get off earlier, your own orgasm is even stronger and longer, and you collapse on top of her, holding Hyunjin down as you rut into her, delivering, pumping, squeezing, oozing, everything you have into her.

Over the phone you hear Heejin, or rather, you hear Heejin's pussy, sopping wet and squelching as her hand is hard at work getting herself off, and with a deep-chested cry you hear her cum shortly after. You kiss Hyunjin lovingly, keeping yourself in her until you hear the rustle of Heejin picking up the phone again.

"Thanks oppa, sorry if that was too loud at the end."

"No, we finished just before you."

"Yeah, he came a lot in me."

"You two don't hide anything do you?"

"S-Show me."

"Fine, you too then." You're dumbfounded as Hyunjin grabs her phone and points it between her legs, but you see that she's captured your state as well—There's bits of Hyunjin's cream all over your cock and crotch, and right next to your cock, where there should've been the pink slit of Hyunjin's pussy, all that's seen in the photo is a strip of white, your cum pouring out of her like an overfilled bun.

"You're going to send that to her?"

"Of course, she asked for it," Hyunjin says, like it's the most logical answer ever.

"Heejin delete it after you see it, what if you lose your phone on tour?"

"I will, we're careful about that. Sending you the pic Hyunjin." Her phone dings, and you're treated to the sight of Heejin laying back on her pillows, looking utterly satisfied as she spreads her pussy lips for you, droplets of slick splattered between her legs.

"I'm going to delete it once oppa's done looking!" Hyunjin teases.

"Wait I—" Her eyes twinkle with mischief—she got you. "Fine, delete it, that's the smart thing to do."

"Not like you won't get to see Heejin like that when she comes back."

"Yeah, I can't wait for you to do that to me, it sounded really hot."

"It is! It's like he was fucking my—" You snatch the phone from Hyunjin before it gets any more bawdy.

"Alright I am not listening to you two talk about me. You should go sleep."

"Mmmhmm now I'm all drained. Thanks oppa, I'll talk to you later. Bye Hyunjin!"

"Yup bye!" Finally alone again Hyunjin cuddles against you, not caring about the load draining out of her. "That was really hot. I am totally going to call you while you're with Heejin."

"What? Why?"

"So we can have phone sex threesome, three phone sex? Phonesome? It's only fair that I get to listen in."

"And how would you know when I'm with Heejin? She just happened to call at the right time."

"I'll get Heejin to tell me, she has to, we have to have the same experiences. You need to do her in the same position, and then tell us who felt better."

"Sometimes I can't tell if you two are competing or cooperating."

"Yes."

Some weeks later, you're in bed with a half-naked Heejin, hands ready to slip off her panties.

"Wait." She picks up her phone and quickly calls someone. "Hyunjin, we're doing it."

"Oh thanks, hi oppa!" Hyunjin's voice comes through the phone. 

"Are you serious?"

"Yes yes."

"We really need to have a talk about just how much we're sharing."

"TTYL, FHRN!"

"What are you even saying?"

"Talk to you later, fuck Heejin right now!" You turn to find Heejin already naked and prone on the bed.

Fine, you guess you'll do as Hyunjin says.

"Hnngh!"

A/N: Wanted to do a "TTYL" related story, but never got around to it until after Loossemble :( Kinda wanted to do the other scene from Heejin's perspective, but eh it would've been too samey, I leave it to your imagination lol. Thanks for reading! Have one more Hyunjin pic

[barnacles34]

Bells and Whistles (Professional Hazard pt.2)

Karina x Male Reader

18+

It's three days after that beautiful night. Still in Rome.

The voicemail plays in the quiet of her bedroom. First: silence. Then a sharp intake of breath that makes your pulse jump. 

Your thumb hovers over the phone as her voice breaks into those familiar wet sounds that have been haunting you all afternoon.

'If you play that one more time—'

'Shh. This is art.'

She's burrowed in her fortress of quilts, only eyes visible over the edge. A paperback lies abandoned by her hip.

'Delete it.' But her voice has gone soft around the edges.

'Not a chance.' You take your time with your shoes. Let her watch the deliberate movements. 'This is better than your debut song—and you know how much I love that song.’'

'You're awful.' The quilt slips as she shifts. 'I was desperate.'

'Were you?' You tap the phone, find that specific moment where her voice catches. 'Tell me about desperate.'

Her sock-covered foot sneaks out, hooks behind your knee. Tugs. 'Twenty minutes for milk. Who takes twenty minutes for milk?'

'Someone wearing very expensive, very tight jeans.'

'Someone being cruel.'

You catch her ankle mid-retreat. The quilt falls away, reveals cotton shorts still damp from earlier. Your thumb finds the arch of her foot, presses. She makes that sound again—the one from the voicemail.

'Cruel?' Your fingers trace higher. 'I'm not the one sending pornographic voicemails in the middle of the day.'

'I didn't—' She breaks off as your hand slides up her calf.

'No?' You hit play again. Her recorded gasp fills the room. 'What would you call this then?'

She bites her knuckle. You replace it with your thumb, let her teeth graze the pad.

'That noise you made,' you murmur. 'Right at the end. Makes me feel invincible.'

'Yeah?' Her tongue darts out, tastes salt.

'Like I could do anything. Find Atlantis. Solve world peace.' You brush her temple with your lips. 'Handle two of you.'

She snorts, shoves at your chest. 'You can barely handle one.'

'Want to test that theory?'

The laughter dies in her throat as your palm finds her inner thigh. Heat blooms under cotton.

'Stay.' Her fingers twist in your shirt like anchors. 'I'll send more. A dozen. Two dozen.'

'Greedy girl.'

Her eyes crinkle at the corners. 'Your fault.'

When you kiss her, she melts like she's been waiting all day.

Her tongue maps the ridges of your teeth, memorizing territory she already knows by heart.

‘Cheater,’ she gasps when you pinch the clasp of her bra.

‘Architect.’

Her shorts fall. The quilt tangles around her hips. She arches when your mouth finds her neck. Whimpers when your teeth follow.

‘Still deleting it.’ She breathes.

‘Try.’

You hit playback again. Her moan swells—raw, unfiltered—as your fingers slide into her.

‘Fuck.’ Her head thrashes. ‘That’s—’

‘—Proof.’ You curl your fingers. ‘You’re my religion.’

She chokes on a laugh. A sob. Her hips stutter. You drink the sounds from her lips. Let her nails carve half-moons into your shoulders.

Later, when she’s boneless and blinking up at you, she traces your collarbone.

‘Twelve voicemails,’ she yawns.

‘Thirteen.’

‘Why thirteen?’

You press her palm to your chest. Let her feel the gallop. ‘One for every time I died at this very second.’

She stills.

Her teeth flash. Dangerous. Devoted. ‘Gladly.’

Your fingers move lazy. Slow. Dragging out every twitch, every choked gasp. She arches into your hand, sweat gluing her bangs to her temples.

‘Still… deleting it.’ She pants, hips circling.

‘Try harder.’ You crook your fingers. Watch her back bow.

Her moan syncs with the recording still playing softly nearby—a stereo echo of need. You drink the sound. Memorize the way her throat flutters.

It’s pulsing, it’s so wet and hot. Sucking in your fingers like quicksand.

‘You’re mean.’ She whines.

‘Mean?’ Your thumb swipes. ‘You begged for this. Remember?’

The voicemail crackles: “—can’t sleep, can’t think, just… please—”

You smirk. Kiss her inner thigh. Salt and jasmine. Her hips jerk.

‘No—wait—’ Her hand fists your hair. Doesn’t push. Doesn’t pull. Trembles.

You nuzzle the damp cotton. ‘Scared?’

‘Never.’

Her shorts peel away. You linger—inhale her, lips hovering. She whimpers.

You chuckle. ‘Even your pussy smells like jasmine.’

‘Please.’

The first lick is a tease. A glancing blow. She curses. The second? A vow.

You map her with your tongue—slow, reverent. Learn the rhythm that makes her thighs clamp your ears. The angle that steals her words. She’s wildfire in your mouth.

‘There—oh god, there—’

You double down. Fingers curl inside her. Thumb presses just so.

Her scream is raw. Beautiful. The quilt soaks. You don’t let up—suck gently as she shakes, drag your tongue through every pulse until she’s clawing the sheets.

Her juices quicken, a pungent musk of sex that’s just pure fucking sin—and you’re sucking it up like a thirsty dog.

Your tongue drags a slow circle around her clit—not touching it. Just tracing the swollen bud through her folds. She whines, thighs tensing.

‘Tease.’

‘Worshipper.’ you correct.

Her hips lift. You press her back down with a palm to her stomach. Feel the muscles flutter, feel the soft cream-like softness of her beautiful midriff.

First contact: a glancing lick. Just the tip of your tongue skating over her clit. She gasps. You catalog the sound—high, sharp, yours.

‘Again.’ She breathes.

You oblige. Slower this time. Let your tongue flatten, drag wet heat across her, bury your nose into her pelvis. Her fingers knot in the sheets.

‘Good?’

‘More.’

You hum. Vibration ripples through her. She jerks.

‘Easy,’ you murmur against her. ‘Let me learn you.’

Your thumbs part her folds. Expose her fully—glistening, flushed, pulse visible in the throb of her clit. You blow gently. Watch her clench, flesh constricting.

‘Cruel—’ A high moan escapes her.

‘Thorough.’

The first proper lick steals her voice. You start slow. Broad strokes from entrance to clit, savoring her tang. Her thighs quiver.

‘There,’ she hisses when your tongue flicks her clit. ‘God, there—’

You zero in. Flick. Flick. Steady rhythm. Her breath hitches.

‘Don’t stop—don’t—’

You switch tactics—suck gently. Her back arches.

‘Yes—like—ah—’

Her clit hardens under your tongue. You trace circles around it, avoiding direct contact. She sobs.

‘Please—’

You reward her: firm pressure, rapid flicks. Her hips stutter. You pin her down, red blooming around the hold you have over her stomach—relentless.

‘Close—I’m close—’

You slide two fingers inside. Curl. Her walls clamp.

‘Fuck—fuck—’

Her clit pulses under your tongue. You suck harder.

She shatters.

A broken scream. Hips grinding against your face. You ride her through it—tongue gentling, fingers stilling.

‘Too much—’

You kiss her inner thigh. Two more kisses along the outer lips. Taste salt. ‘Beautiful.’

She trembles. ‘Again.’

Her thighs tremble as she nudges you onto your back. The mattress dips under her weight. You reach to touch her face—always reaching—but she catches your wrist. Presses it to the pillow. 

Her grip isn’t firm. A request, not a demand.

‘Let me,’ she murmurs.

You nod.

Her lips start at your collarbone—a closed-mouth kiss that lingers. She exhales warm breath against the hollow of your throat. You swallow. She smiles against your skin.

Another kiss. Lower. The swell of your pectoral. The scar from that cat. Her tongue traces the jagged edge. You hiss.

The way her thick hair travels along your chest tickles. The soothing aroma of her shampoo almost paralyzing you.

Her teeth graze your nipple. Bite down just enough to make your hips jerk. The denim of your jeans rasps against her bare thighs.

‘Off,’ she says.

‘What’s the magic word?’

Her eyes flick up. Dark. Glossy with submission. ‘Please.’

You sit up to shuck your jeans. She pushes you back down. ‘Let me.’

Her fingers fumble with your belt. The leather slips. She growls—a sound you’ve only heard when she lost at Mario Kart the day before. You bite your cheek. Laughter threatens release.

‘Shut up.’

‘Didn’t say anything.’

The belt clatters to the floor. Your boxers follow. Cool air hits your cock. Her breath follows—warm, uneven.

‘Look at me,’ you say.

She does. Pupils blown. Lips parted. A string of saliva connects her tongue to her lower lip.

‘Beautiful,’ you murmur.

She flushes. Looks away.

Your thumb hooks her chin. ‘Eyes here, sweetheart.’

A whimper escapes her. She obeys.

The first lick is tentative. A kitten testing cream. Her tongue swipes the underside of your cock. Your abs clench in response.

‘Jimin—’

‘Shh.’

Her lips wrap the head. Suck gently. Your groan claws its way out. She moans in response—vibration traveling straight to your spine.

Fuck.

Her hand wraps your shaft. Strokes in time with her mouth. Too dry. Too rough. Perfection.

‘Condom?’ she mumbles around you, the slightest gap allowed for conversation.

‘Later.’

She hums. The sound liquefies your bones.

And she continues. Swollen lips wrapped around your length, tongue slightly pushing on the underside.

Her free hand drifts between her legs. You catch it.

‘Focus.’

‘Meanie.’

You guide her head back down. ‘Earn it.’

She takes you deeper. Smoldering eye contact as she inches closer to the hilt, whereupon her nose almost makes contact with your pelvic bone. Gags. Pulls off. Coughs.

Strings of thick spit follow her mouth as she wipes.

‘Okay?’

‘Perfect.’

She tries again. Slower. Breathing through her nose. Her throat opens. Takes you to the root this time. Tears spill.

You bite down on your lip.

Her nails dig into your thighs. Sting. Ground. 

She finds a rhythm—suck, release, swirl. Strings of spit travel down your length. Where her thumb massages your balls with the spit. Your vision blurs.

Amidst it all, she’s staring into you—daring you to force her down on your cock. Begging, even.

‘Close,’ you warn.

She pulls off. Strokes you fast. ‘Come.’

You arch. ‘Where?’

Her tongue darts out. Catches the first pearl of cum. ‘Everywhere.’

The orgasm rips through you. Strips you raw. You spill across her lips, her chin, the swell of her breasts. She licks her lips. Grins.

‘Good?’

‘Amazing.’

She crawls up your body. Fully swallowing the load, then pressing a light kiss on your cheek.

Her mouth lingers on your cheekbone—wet, warm. The kiss sticks when she pulls back. Milky streaks still glisten between her breasts. You thumb one. She shivers.

‘Messy,’ you murmur.

‘Yours.’

Her nipples graze your chest as she straddles you. Heat blooms where skin meets skin. You palm her ribs. Feel the rabbit-quick thrum beneath.

Her hips lift. Your cock nudges her entrance. Slick. Swollen. You hold still. Make her work for it.

‘Please.’ She breathes, sinking down.

Heat swallows you. Tight. Quivering. You bite your tongue. Blood blooms.

She moves like water—slow swirls, thighs trembling. Her breasts sway. You catch one. Lick the salt from its curve.

‘Look at me.’

She doesn’t. Eyes screwed shut. Hair plastered to her neck. Hot and heavy with arousal.

You pinch her nipple. Gentle. Cruel. ‘Look.’

She whimpers. Lashes lift. Pupils black as oil spills.

‘Good girl.’

She whimpers. Clenches. Your fingers dig into her hips.

‘Faster.’

‘Make me.’

You buck up. She gasps. Nails score your chest.

‘Cheat—’

Her rhythm fractures. Hips stuttering. You let her chase it—the sweet friction, the burn. Her moans pitch higher.

‘Close—I’m close—,’ she whimpers.

You still her hips. ‘Wait.’

She sobs. ‘Please—’

‘Say it.’

Your thumb finds her clit. Circles.

She breaks. ‘Yours. Always yours.’

You release her. Let her slam down. Take what she needs.

Her orgasm rips through both of you—convulsions, bitten-off cries. Her rhythmic roll of hips turns frenzied. You let her ride it. Milk every pulse. 

After all, you’re obsessed—crazy about her.

When she collapses, you roll her over. Press into the sweat-slick hollow of her back.

‘Again.’

She shakes her head. Weak.

You bite her shoulder. ‘Again.’

Her body opens. Always opens. You grip your cock along her swollen slit, the sticky wetness almost  drives you mad. Regardless, you fuck her slow this time. 

Deep. Dragging each thrust. Feeling how her pussy drags on your cock, slick wet sounds singing into your ears.

‘Feel it?’

She nods. Pillow muffling her whines.

Your hand slides under. Cups her breast. Squeezes.

You curl over her. Chest to heaving back. Lips to her ear.

​​Her lips linger at your ear—sticky with confession. You taste salt when she pulls away. The room smells of sex and the spilt vanilla candle she lit hours ago, wax pooling like liquid amber.

She softly guides your hand to her throat. Your thumb finds the pulse. Ba-dum. Ba-dum. A trapped bird.

"Harder," she whispers.

You tighten. Feel her swallow.

Her breasts press against your chest as she arches, nipples pebbling against your scars. The heat between her legs slicks your thigh.

"Inside.’

You flip her. Sheets snag her knees. She whines. You bite the sound from her lips.

Her hands fist the headboard. You press into her slow. Molten velvet. Her moan fractures.

‘Eyes.’

She obeys. Always obeys.

You move. Deliberate. Each thrust a psalm. Her breasts sway—heavy, flushed. You palm one. Squeeze. Milk-white skin blooms red.

‘More—’

‘Quiet.’

She bites her wrist. You replace it with your fingers.

‘Sing for me.’

Her cry splinters the air. You swallow it. Fuck her deeper.

The headboard knocks the wall. Syncopated. Her ankles lock at your waist. Pull. Beg.

‘Who?’ you demand.

‘Yours.’

‘Louder.’

‘Yours~!’

The word still ringing when you slam into her. No finesse. Piston hips. Her breasts slap your chest—heat and sweat and jasmine.

She chokes. Nails rake your back. ‘Too—’

‘Take it.’

Her legs lock. Ankles digging into your behind. You fuck her like proving a point. Jackhammer rhythm. Headboard cracks plaster.

Dust rains down as you drag her hips back, slam into her harder. No rhythm now—just ruin.

She chokes on a scream, face mashed into the quilt, ass raised like an offering.

Your grip bruises her waist, fingers denting flesh as you split her open again. Again. Again and again. 

You can feel your balls hit the wetness of her pussy, smacking wet sounds onto her slit.

‘Take it.’ You grind deeper, pelvis punishing her clit with each thrust. Her thighs quiver, slick with sweat and your earlier release. ‘Wanted me rough? Here.’

She sobs into the mattress, voice shredded. ‘T-too—’

‘You don’t get to.’ You fist her hair, yank her head back. Her spine bows, throat exposed. ‘You begged for this. Remember?’

A nod. A whimper.

You snarl, slamming home. The wet slap of skin-on-skin drowns her cries. Her nails claw the sheets, nearly ripping threads. You lean over her, teeth scoring her shoulder. 

Her scream cracks as you pin her wrists, pound into her like you’re exorcising ghosts.

The bed groans. Her breasts sway, nipples raw from your mouth. She’s so tight, clenching around your cock like she’s trying to keep you trapped inside.

‘Gonna break you,’ you rasp, thumb digging into her asshole.

She shrieks, back arching. ‘P-please—’

‘Please what?’

‘Ruin me—’

You do. Hips pistoning, sweat stinging the bite marks on her neck. You don’t stop—can’t stop—driving into her convulsions until your vision whites out.

She sobs. High. Broken. ‘There there there~!’

Your thumb finds her clit. Grind. Her scream lodges in your teeth.

‘Come.’

‘Can’t—can’t—’

You bite her shoulder. ‘Come.’

She shatters. Walls milking. Clenching. Begging without words.

You drill deeper. Tip hitting that spongy ache. Her eyes roll back.

‘Gonna fill you,’ you snarl.

‘Please please—’

One last thrust. Hilt-deep.

You rupture.

Whiteout. Earthquake hips. Flood her until your knees buckle.

She collapses into the fault line you’ve carved. Whimpers when you pull out. Spend drips down her thigh.

Her finger swipes it—all that cumulative spend coupled along her swollen cunt. Lets the slurry couple along her tongue.

‘I love how you taste.’

‘God. You’re too fucking perfect.’ You drop down onto her. Cuddling.

Moonlight spills through the curtains. She's tucked against you, all soft edges now.

'You okay?' Your fingers ghost over her shoulder.

'Mm.' A pause. 'Was it too much?'

'Never.'

'But I was...' She shifts slightly. 'I got carried away.'

'Hey.' You tilt her chin up. 'That's what I love about you.'

'What? Being a mess?'

'Being real.'

She burrows closer. 'Still. Sorry if I—'

'Don't you dare apologize.'

'But—'

'Want some water?'

'If you move, I'll write a very detailed exposé about you.'

'About what? My green tea addiction?'

'Chapter One: The Man Who Chose Hydration Over Cuddles.'

'Riveting.'

'Mm. I'll even include citations.'

Your fingers trace idle patterns on her arm. 'What's Chapter Two?'

'Our future kids being haunted by your tea collection.'

'Kids, huh?'

'Tiny humans who'll only drink iced americanos.'

'In winter? That's grounds for custody battle.'

She pinches your side. 'They'll be perfect.'

'Yeah?'

'Yeah. Little artists with their mom's smile and their dad's terrible sense of humor.'

'My humor is exquisite.'

'You'll teach them to be insufferable.'

'And you'll teach them to be beautiful.'

She props herself up. Hair mussed, eyes soft. 'Where should we live?'

'Somewhere quiet. With big windows.'

'And a garden?'

'For your flowers and my tea herbs.'

'Domestic.' She wrinkles her nose. 'I like it.'

You pull her closer. 'We'll need a library.'

'For bedtime stories?'

'And quiet mornings.'

'With a reading nook?'

'Big enough for three.'

'Four,' she corrects. 'Maybe five.'

'Ambitious.'

She kisses your jaw. 'Thought you could handle anything.'

'Try me.'

'Five kids. All girls. All with my stubbornness.'

'Terrifying.'

'But worth it.'

You thread fingers through her hair. 'Worth everything.'

'Even giving up your tea collection?'

'Now you're pushing it.'

She laughs, soft and real. 'I'll let you keep the fancy cups.'

'Generous.'

'I know.' She yawns. 'I'm a catch.'

'The biggest.'

Her fingers trail your chest. 'Hey.'

'Mm?'

'Think our kids will be tall?'

'With your genes? Doubtful.'

She bites your shoulder. 'I'm average height.'

'For a garden gnome.'

'For a normal person.’ She groans.

‘—Who has been crushed ever so slightly by a hydraulic press.’

‘Ugh.’ She falls back into the bed.

‘We need a shower.’

She huffs. ‘No, I need a shower.’

‘Hm?’

‘I know what you’re gonna do: act like it’s a shower then nail me for the next half-hour in there.’

‘Oh?’

‘Don’t oh me. My legs are still sore from the cumulative effects of the past 3 days’

'Fine.' You pull her closer. 'Five more minutes.'

'Five turns into fifty with you.'

'Can you blame me?'

She traces patterns on your chest. 'I have to be at the airport by six.'

'Skip it.'

'Right. I'll just tell my company I found something better to do.'

'Like?'

'Like getting ravished by a journalist with no self-control.'

'Sounds reasonable to me.'

Her laugh is soft. Sad. 'I can’t let go of this.'

'This?'

'You.' She props herself up. 'Your stupid jokes. Your hands. The way you look at me like I'm...'

Your fingers find her hair. 'How long?'

'A week. Maybe two.'

'I'll die.'

'Drama queen.'

'No, actually die. Waste away. They'll write articles: Local Writer Perishes From Karina Deficiency.'

She smacks your chest. 'Stop.'

'My last words will be "if only she'd stayed one more day."'

'I hate you.'

'You love me.'

'Yeah.' She kisses your jaw. 'That's the problem.'

She sits up suddenly. 'Wait. What if—'

'What if?'

'My apartment in Seoul has a separate entrance. Service elevator.' The words tumble out. 'Nobody uses it except staff. And I have this office, connected to my room—'

'Jimin.'

'—could set up a desk there. Get you one of those fancy writing chairs. And there's this cafe nearby, really private, the owner's super discrete—'

You prop yourself up. Watch her plan your smuggling with bright eyes.

'The security team changes rotation at 2AM.' She's drawing invisible blueprints on your chest. 'That's when we could—'

'Breathe, baby.'

'I'm serious.' Her fingers curl against your skin. 'I've thought about this. A lot. Like, embarrassingly a lot.'

'Yeah?'

'Yeah.' She ducks her head. 'Have the whole thing mapped out in my head. When to sneak you in. Which staff to trust. Where to hide your toothbrush.'

'My toothbrush gets its own strategic planning?'

'Everything gets strategic planning.' She looks up. 'I'd make it work. I'd make it perfect.'

'Jimin.'

'I know it's crazy.' Her voice cracks. 'But I can't—the thought of not—'

You pull her down. Kiss her forehead, her temple, the corner of her mouth. 'Tell me more about this secret entrance.'

She breathes against your neck. 'Really?'

'Really. Though I should warn you—'

'What?'

'My toothbrush is high-maintenance. Needs its own security detail.'

She laughs, wet and relieved. 'I'm being pathetic.'

'You're being perfect.' Your thumb catches a tear. 'And I'm taking notes.'

'Yeah?'

'Mm yeah. Finally found my title: "How to Smuggle a Writer: A Professional Hazard."'

Jimin nuzzles into you further. Purring at this moment of peace.

2 Weeks Later

Dawn creeps through her expensive curtains. She's wrapped around you like a koala, skin on skin, taking up more space than her tiny frame should allow.

You try to slip away. Her arms tighten.

'No,' she mumbles against your chest.

'Tea.'

'Lies.'

'Green tea.'

'Worse lies.'

But she lets you go, rolling into the warm spot you leave behind. You pause at the door—she's barely covered by the sheet, hair a mess across your pillow. Perfect.

The kitchen gleams in morning light. That copper kettle she insisted on buying catches the sun—"Because proper tea needs proper tools," she'd declared, like your entire existence before her was barbaric.

She pads in almost-naked just as the water's heating, with your discarded shirt from yesterday.

'Cold?'

'Miss you already.'

'I'm right here.'

'Too far.' She hooks her chin over your shoulder, arms sliding around your waist. 'What blend?'

'The one you say you hate.'

'Mm. The grassy one?'

'Getting better at this.'

She hums against your skin. Already reaching for her cup—the blue ceramic one that somehow migrated from the hotel to her apartment.

First sip. Her eyes close.

'Well?'

'It’s okay.' She takes another sip. 'Bland. I guess.'

She grins wide as you turn around. Getting closer to you, inhaling the smell of your fresh t-shirt. 

'Noted.' You kiss her temple. 'Want the rest of mine too?'

'Yes.' A sleepy smile. 'But only because I love you.'

'Of course.' Your greatest triumph: her, here, stealing your tea and your heart. 'Only because of that.'

'Want breakfast?' She's already moving to the fridge.

'You're cooking?'

'Don't sound so scared.' She pulls out eggs, something that looks suspiciously gourmet. 'I've been practicing. Besides, I’m tired of eating the coal you call food, and the bacteria colony I call food.'

'Since when?'

'Since I decided to be domestic.' She hip-checks you away from the counter. 'Go sit. Let me work.'

You watch her move around the kitchen. Something's different. A nervousness in her hands, a flutter in her movements.

'Stop staring.'

She’s revelling in it, how she gets you dumb-struck every time you get a glance of her.

Too cute.

'Can't help it.'

She sets a plate in front of you. Simple breakfast. Eggs. Toast. But arranged with careful precision. Something white peeking out from under the toast.

'Fancy.' You reach for your fork.

'Wait.' Her fingers twist in your shirt. 'Look under.'

'Under the toast?'

She nods. Not breathing.

You lift the bread. There's a small note. Written as small as her hands would allow. 

‘Pregnant.’

The world stops.

'Jimin.'

'I know it's fast.' The words rush out. 'I know we just—but I've been feeling strange and the test was just sitting there in my bathroom for days and I finally—this morning while you were sleeping—'

You pull her into your lap.

'Say something.'

'When?'

'2 weeks, maybe? Remember that night after the bar?'

You remember. Of course you remember. A beautiful night.

'Are you...' Her voice small. 'Are you happy?'

You kiss her. Taste salt. Someone's crying. Maybe both of you.

'Ecstatic.' Your hand finds her stomach. Still flat. But now. But soon. 'Terrified.'

'Yeah?' She laughs through tears.

'Yeah.' You kiss her again. 'Best breakfast ever.'

'Even better than your tea?'

Instead of answering, you kiss her again.

What's tea anyway?

Fin

A/N: Goodness! They make a great couple. Hope you enjoyed!

[dilf-docs]

So Is it Your Place Or Mine?

bfd!joel miller x younger!reader

summary: summer is over, but your affair with joel isn't (or, you grind on joel's belt buckle while sarah is at soccer practice)

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, smut, p. in v., exhibition kink (sarah is again a victim of this), brat taming (this two are soo into it), degradation kink, praise kink, lwk breeding kink, daddy kink (wow! it's a whole library of alexandria of kinks in here), fingering, dad bod!joel (best joel you mean), angst (oh guys look oh no it's alr starting), dirty talk!!!!! (they're so dirty ew i want it too wait who said that)

word count: 3,701 words

side note: and it became officially a series. hope u all are into this as much as i am because it's my first series ever !!!!! ALSO angst finally makes it way in this mess LET'S GO (i'mcrying i really looked up big texas belt to come up with a mental image in the middle of class, i'm so sorry to whoever sat behind me but idc abt me writing smut while at uni; we die like real men)

part: prev | masterlist | next

"What do you mean you're not coming?"

It's been an unspoken rule that, even if you hate sports and the ball stays ten meters away from you, you always come to Sarah's soccer practice, cheering for her from your usual spot at the benches.

Except today, you aren't there. And now Sarah is calling you when she shouldn't, but that she doesn't know.

"I can't. I have stuff to work on stuff"

Bullshit.

Your laptop and the half-written essay sit untouched at the coffee table. The thing being touched in question, is something entirely different.

"Need help?"

His hands grip any free spot of your glistening skin, sucking on the rosy pink until it turns maroon red.

"I'm at my dorm, sorry"

Double bullshit.

Sarah doesn't even know your car is parked next to her dad's truck. She has about four hours to find out.

"I can drop by later then" she suggests.

His hot breath tingles against your neck as his nose caresses the spot. Bad girl, he mouths, like he wasn't the one who told you to pick up, despite his daughter's name on the caller's ID. You try to reach for a kiss, but his digits press on your hair, pulling you back with violence to forbid your lips from touching his. Bad girl, and your arousal drips with more intensity at the remark. Bad girl.

"No!" the answer comes quick, your voice strained, and Sarah jokes that you should take it easy with your classes, instead of suspecting anything else.

"Fine! I won't go if you don't want me to, but if you show up dead by stress, I'll be free of guilt"

He kisses the outline of your jaw with sloppy movements, like he just wants to busy himself while Sarah blabbers about the practice, and you keep trying to make her stop, but she tells you not to worry, that she's on a break right now, and the task to avoid whimpering at his rough kisses across your neck becomes increasingly difficult. A gasp escapes your lips when his teeth sink into your flesh. Mine, not to be said but to be felt. Seen by the rest. A pretty red that tastes like the blood he craves, the hunger akin to violence. Bad girl, and he's biting your lip to stop any other filthy noises from escaping. What if she hears?

"Are you okay?" concern laced on Sarah's tone. Guilt creeps through the cracks of the worn-out paint of his bedroom, one your friend had practically begged him to restore; the joke of it all was that was about his job yet he couldn't fix his own goddamn house. "Y/n, did you hurt yourself?"

I'm treating you well, ain't I, doll? and then he'd grin against the crook of your neck before looking at you, his dark blown-wide pupils gazing at you with a hunger you didn't think it was possible. They'd burn, and the fire didn't scare you: it was the warm your cold body needed. Tell Sarah her daddy ain't hurting her slut of a friend.

"I-I'm fine" you manage to choke out. Good girl.

Joel's lids feel heavy as a crown. But you like 'em rough, don't 'cha, baby?

"Should I worry?"

Joel pulls harder, your scalp burning at the harsh tug. Answer when I ask. You breathe in heavily, and Sarah keeps on asking you if you're okay, threatening to burst through a dorm door she'll find empty.

"N-no" you meekly answer, and he laughs at your demeanor. Under his weight, pinned down on the mattress, there's nowhere to run to.

"Is it okay if I-"

"Sarah I need to hang, okay? My head hurts. Bye" it all comes down in a rush, the words a vomit of excuses. You make sure the call has ended, and so does Joel, that in an act of mercy, has stopped. You both look the screen until the lockscreen is back up again, a picture of you and Sarah. Despite used to having his weight on top of you, your throat feels constricted.

"Do you want to traumatize your daughter, Mr. Miller?"

He's back at his task of kissing, making you moan and writhe at the sensitivity of your kissed and bit skin during the last hour. You hate how he takes his time―edging you; unbearable.

"What I want is you"

The lie comes out effortlessly from his teeth. He wants you, needs you, but does he really want you? His daughter's best friend, the college girl he was going to lecture just last summer―to live life and forget about him, yet couldn't. He lies to himself, saying he didn't because you felt asleep, but feeling a warm body next to him, being your beautiful frame of all people, made it hard.

The way he makes a moaning mess out of you, how he knows every spot of your body no one had been able to please before, how your cunt stretches perfectly around his cock, how you call his name like no one else had done. It belongs to you now, and this is a vice.

It's like he's got a wound, and you're the only balm that can soothe the pain. But the effect is temporary, and after you leave, he always finds himself wanting more.

The doubt on his eyes has your heart beating out of fear.

"Then have me, Mr. Miller" you dare.

When Joel smiles, barely noticeable, something flutters in your stomach.

"Al'ight, impatient one. We have sum hours until Sarah's back. Spread" his hand nudges your thighs apart, and you oblige, making Joel chuckle at your obedience. "Good girl, baby. S'good f'r me"

You let out a gentle moan at the praise, and he smirks at your reaction.

"Feelin' desperate, are we?" he taunts, seeing your pretty lips parted and face flushed, a whine escaping them.

"Shut the fuck up and just kiss me already" you beg, pussy throbbing painfully.

"Damn brat" he hisses, "ain't you such'a needy greedy slut?" his finger hooks on your panties, tugging you closer into him, your body rising to clash against his softer frame that has nothing to do with his rough demeanor. You can feel the bulge that has formed through his pants, making you moan in delight.

"Sorry, daddy. I'll be a good girl" you squirm under his weight, pouting lips and batting eyelashes. "Please, kiss me. Pretty please, daddy"

"Jus' cus you asked well" but he knows it's an excuse to capture your sweet lips until he's tasted all of you. You once heard old men kiss like they want to devour every inch of your mouth, to make space for their tongue like it's going to live in there, and they were right.

He pulls away from the kiss to pull out his shirt, revealing his soft body. Your hands itch, immediatly reaching for it with wandering fingers. He chuckles at the eagerness, but then he catches the subtle adoration in your eyes, and his breath hitches, heart stopping.

"What's wrong?" you look up, and it's gone. Maybe he imagined it.

Joel doesn't know why he feels dissapointed by it.

He tries to push the thoughts back, head diving down between your breasts, leaving sloppy kisses and messy trails of saliva with his tongue on each one. He gives a special lick to your hardened nipples, making you squirm.

"Gonna bend y'r fuckin' sexy little body on this sheets. Gonna make you cum all'over, until y'r scent is'mpregnated on 'em"

You groan at his words, fingers pulling down the pajama shorts you brought over, revealing your pretty black laced lingerine.

"Fuck, baby. You wore 'em for me?" he's asking, and you'd be crazy if you think the tone reveals devotion. Is Joel even capable of warmth?

He leaves a new trail of kisses, this time, running from your neck to your stomach.

"Gonna make you scream my name 'til that's the only thin' you know how to say" his hot breath tingles over your abdomen. He buries his face in there, the mustache and scruffy graying hair tickling the skin. "Gon' give you such'a load, this flat stomach of yours will be bustin' with my seed"

You whine at his filthy words, mouth agape slightly. He looks at your soaked panties, arousal on clear display now. Joel's cock twitches in the confines of his jeans.

He lets out a low growl. "Look at you, such'a slut for me. Drippin' wet like a fuckin' whore and desperate, when I ain't even touch you"

To prove so, Joel teasingly runs his fingers along your inner thigh, dangerously close to your soaking core.

He pulls your underwear down, taking them off.

"M'gonna fuck you real good, baby" his fingers dig on your thighs for support, the burning sensation of his calloused digits on your soft skin delicious. "Gon' take care of what's mine"

Mine.

The words ring loud and clear. The only other noise to be heard is his lips leaving wet sounds against your thighs. Does Joel even realize what he said? Or was it in the heat of the moment?

No, wait. Stop. Why do you care?

He begins to rub circles in your clit, coating his fingers in your dripping arousal, prodding the tense needy hole, making you moan in desperation.

"Please, daddy" your lips cry as you beg for him to do anything to remove the pain in between your legs.

"Please, what?" Joel teases, voice raspy. He keeps prodding your center, his digits in and out in a gentle manner, contrasting his hard hold on your thigh. You squirm and whine at the sensation, but maybe it's the dark on his eyes that's really responsable for making you shrink under his gaze. "Think 'm doin' this for ya'? To please ya'? No, baby" he tuts, "you were a bad girl. Almost got caught"

"If you didn't make me answer" you seethe, a moan almost escaping your lips when his fingers hit that sweet spot of yours. "Maybe if you didn't, she wouldn't-"

Joel removed his fingers from you, and you reduce to a moaning mess, begging for the release you were chasing and now it's lost.

"But you wanted'er to know, didn't ya'?" he unbuckles his belt and fumbles with his worn-out jeans, revealing a barely concealed neediness on his side. "Wanted'er to know where 'er slut of a friend was: at daddy's house, beggin' for his dick like a cockhungry slut"

"I-I want it. Want you dick" you barely choke out, lips parted at the sight of his pulsating dick's silhouette under his brief.

"Then take it, hungry one"

His tip buries deeply into your cunt before you even speak again, sliding inside in one swift motion. You gasp, as he fills you up completely, because despite the way your cunt stretches for him, or the way you have had his dick and need it, his girth never fails to amaze you.

"D-daddy" you moan, walls stretching to accommodate his size. Your sweet arousal drips down your thighs, coating Joel's balls. Fuck, doesn't he love to see you squirming under him. He's never had a woman like you before, wrapped around his finger. You may be a girl, but God, you feel so much better around his dick than anyone else: your cunt tenses around his cock deliciously, his dick twitching when he takes a look at your legs shaking and fucked out state.

"That's it, pretty girl. Beg for'it"

His words go straight to your core as you moan. "Please. Let me take all of you, Joel, please"

You said his name. Fuck. He shouldn't be this aroused, but the way you say it like that's the only thing you know, like it means something more, it makes his dick throb and heart sting. That he, Joel Miller, old bitter man, single dad, could mean more to a young pretty girl like you.

"Fuck" he grunts, grabbing a handful of your hair as he begins to pull out slowly, plunging inside of you with harsh movements. The sound of skin clapping is obscene as he begins to fuck you mercilessly. "Ain't you a noisy lil' thing, huh? You like that, baby? You like it rough?"

Your voice comes out shaky. "Y-yes, daddy. F-fuck, just like that. I like it a l-lot"

"Good girl" he grins satisfied with your respone, his thrusts getting rougher and messier. "Lookin' s'pretty with my dick's inside of you"

Joel changes angles without telling you, brushing your g-spot. A noise so loud and vulgar comes out of your parted lips, and you feel ashamed.

But then he's brushing a strand of hair from your face, with a delicacy you've seen reserved for his daughter only. It feels weird, and you try that it doesn't distract you from your looming orgasm.

"Joel..." you breath out his name.

"Yes?" with everything coming out of his mouth: possesiveness, neediness, pleasure. Like he'd give you the world if you just ask, despite telling himself he wouldn't.

"K-keep going"

Your gaze bores into his eyes with an intensity that almost makes him stop. Because the words are simple, but Joel's been alive enough on this Earth to know it doesn't mean just that.

Keep going. Don't stop. Don't end this. Don't let me go.

"Whatever m'princess asks if she asks 'em nice"

You scream in pleasure as his thrusts become deeper, his balls slapping against your cunt, as your slick begins to run down your thighs. Joel thinks he's going crazy at the way your folds take him, how tight you feel, and the loud noises you make, begging him to fuck you harder, to use you. Every thrust pushes you closer to the edge, writhing under his touch as you begin to see stars.

"You close, aren't ya'?" he laughs, but it's devoid of mockery. A subtle softness hides behind them. Ask nicely, and I shall give. "Gon' cream 'round my dick like a good girl, right?"

His digits dig in the flesh of your hips, guiding himself to fuck you harder, for you to take him better, caging your body under the sheets, pushing you even closer to your orgasm. You mewl loudly, tears in the corner of your eyes at the delicious burn.

If you told yourself a year ago you'd be crying over Joel Miller's dick, of all people, you'd probably laugh. But no college boys had been able to please you, less bring you to tears as you reach your orgasm. This is heaven, and you aren't ready to say goodbye to the paradise you found in summer just yet.

Your core tenses around him, body so close to finishing, hair a mess, eyes brimming with tears, and lips spilling the filthiest sounds ever heard to humankind. It's heaven, and Joel isn't ready to give it up just yet. Your pussy throbs, and as your juices mix as one, you roll your eyes and head back, your high approaching, knot in your stomach tightening faster. Before you can register, your mind goes blank and you're seeing stars.

You come around his cock, coating it in your arousal as Joel admires how you cream his member, tight walls almost pushing him out of you. He groans at your simmering cries, some tears coming out of your eyes.

"What'e fuckin' slut, baby. You sure are somethin' else" he chuckles, his thrusts messier by his own high approaching. "Wait for me, yeah, baby?"

You humm, as he buries deep into you, filling you up completely, as his hips stop their harsh movements when he feels the tension in his abdomen release.

"Fuckin' sweet" he uses a finger to clean some of the slick that's run down your leg. "Good girl"

He licks them off in an obscene display, making sure to never break contact.

"If you keep doing that, I'm gonna become a real bad girl" you taunt.

Then he pulls out of you carefully, doing his best not to spill too much of his load from your cunt. He grabs one of the corners of his sheets, cleaning some of his seed from your thighs. Joel should be careful, but all his foggy mind can muster is you being his in every way he can. Making you his. Mine. Mine. Mine. You plead him not to do that, but he argues laundry day is soon and he likes it better when it smells like you anyway. You confess with a cute light blush in your cheeks that you do the same when he comes over to fuck you in your dorm, sleeping better when the covers smell like him. He shouldn't feel like this: like it could be. But he allows himself to, even for an instant.

"Oh, yeah?" he pants, "what you gon' do?"

Your eyes travel to his jeans and untied buckle he hadn't wasted time taking off, rather just pulling them down.

"I have something in mind..." you wander off, remembering filthy thoughts of your first night together, how you briefly thought about it. "I-" you cut off, blushing furiously.

"Yes?" he holds your chin tightly, forcing you to look at him as his rough fingers press on the skin. "Remember what I told ya', baby? To ask nicely? 'Cause you said you'd be a good girl, so be one and tell daddy what'd ya' want"

You gulp, trying to hold his gaze. You never back down. You never back down. But the intensity of the shinning copper makes that insufferable character of yours to be tamed, boiling against the surface but just scratching, all screams lost. Is like he knows this power over you, acting on it with a benevolence so sick, it has you thinking loving Joel Miller isn't impossible.

You never back down, but being with Joel feels like walking over stones, always thinking about the next step and the ones that were, ghosts of the lingering doubts and afterthoughts behind every step you take. It's like there's a river below them, washing away regret.

But you're still here: water up your knees then and now over your head.

You're barely floating. You'd be willing to drown anyway.

"I want to ride your belt buckle"

There's silence in the other side, until its met with a light chuckle.

"Yeah?" Joel keeps on laughing, his eyebrows raised in disbelief. "S'that what that filthy head of yours be thinkin' on?"

"Stop it" you groan, covering your hot face with your palms. You wish you could erase that ugly smirk off his face. "I'm never telling you anything again, ever"

"Now c'mon, baby. I was jus' messin' 'round" his tone adquires a soft edge to it, tender warm hands removing yours from your face. "Don't cover your face, baby. You're too goddam pretty" you blush, and Joel better resist the urge to kiss you just for the sake of kissing you. "I didn't mean to make fun of ya'. You know y'can tell me anythin' that's goin' inside that head of yours"

"Then you'll let me?" your pretty eyes look up to him, shinning like the stars of the summer night sky months ago.

He can't deny you anything, and a small crack of fear wounds his impenetrable heart.

"Get'ere you filthy slut"

You eagerly climb onto his lap as he sits against the beds headboard, your thighs pushing against his belly.

"Now" he tries to put in a more comfortable position, his tired joints creaking. He avoids your gaze, coughing over his blush. "You do all the job, baby. I ain't gonna help you, this greedy pussy took all of my energy"

You giggle, moving until your bare pussy clashes against the cold. A shiver runs down your spine, the dried juices moistening again over the metal piece. His hands move to your hips, hands now soft as they hold you, and he seems unsure of it, both of your breaths coming out ragged.

"You said you weren't gonna help" you chuckle, wrapping your arms around his neck. His face feels closer, and you can see lines time has marked across his features. "But thanks, daddy"

His heart takes a dangerous leap.

"'Course, baby" he smiles. "You know I spoil ya' too damn much"

You begin to roll your hips, sliding your pussy over the cold material, your arousal making a wet slick sound that bounces off the walls, a shiver down your back as you feel your slick already coating the front of it and the top of his jeans.

"Mmm, can't say no to me, can you, baby?" you mock, rocking your hips back and forth. A shaky breath escapes your parted lips, and Joel feels his renovated dick spring hard. You moan, your ass barely touching his now tense member.

"Quit runnin' that mouth of y'rs, baby" his digits dig on your skin, "or I'll bend ya' over again"

"Sorry, daddy" you feel the metal star on the middle digging inside your pussy, the borders of the imprint brushing your leaking cunt in a pleasant way. "I promise to be good"

"Do" he grunts, "you're runnin' out of time, doll"

You close your eyes, movements more quick and erratic, little moans leaving your body as you groan.

"Tell me how this lil' experiment of yours feelin', baby"

"F-feels good, daddy. Fuck" you groan, lifting your hips a bit as you grind yourself down across the material. "So so good, daddy. Thank you, daddy"

"Mmm, that's right. Now be a good girl and come for me. Let me see that pretty face of yours when ya' come over ma' belt"

You let out a shaky breath, juices spilling over his jeans even as you see stars. He chuckles, enamoured at the sight.

"You gonna need help with that?" you point out his boner.

Oh, aren't you a doll? So kind-hearted.

"That's okay" he breathes out, tiredly. He thinks of the next trip to the bathroom, the image of what he'll fuck himself to clear now.

You smile at him, for the first time forgetting this started as a blowing-off-steam-time or transaction.

For a moment, it feels like it could be.

"Jus' seein' you cum all over me so prettily is'nough, baby"

[fablerenown]

I've had a couple people asking me if I've noticed my TikTok feed is different since the app came back, and I haven't noticed that because I fucking deleted the app off my phone when it went down.

I think of it this way: If someone told me my favorite restaurant was reopening thanks to the sponsorship of Nazis (specifically, the Nazis who HAD IT CLOSED IN THE FIRST PLACE), I would never fucking go there again. I don't care how good the food is; the fact that it's working with FUCKING NAZIS means I want nothing to do with it. I don't need it for work or as my only line of connection to people, so I'm not going back until they prove there's no fucking Nazis. I'll go literally anywhere else.

In fact, I feel like just being off TikTok and on more reading-based apps like Tumblr and BlueSky for a couple days has vastly improved my brain. I feel like my mental health is better, I'm more focused, and I'm more productive. It's obviously too soon to tell, but I feel like besides making videos for YouTube I don't know if I'd go back to an app like TikTok again. The only thing I'm still debating is whether or not to leave the accounts up, mostly so people can find me from there and as evidence for a video I want to make later about grey area plagiarism on short form apps like TikTok and Instagram Reels.

[cryptid-killjoy]

Willem was always going to be a guy down for a HTH break in. It was just the sort of adventure Wild Will was in toespecially if it ended in chilli dogs.

Willem also wasn't sure he ever thought of himself as a father figure to any of the dolls yet. Caretaker? Yes. Father, somehow, he didn't see himself as that even of his own creations even if that might have been somewhat true. Thoughts for another, perhaps. Emotions that hadn't quite matured or been labeled, perhaps.

"A mother? Hmm. I guess I can see that. I'll think about that."

He left it at that for more pondering later. What he knew for sure and did not have to think any longer on was Figaro looked cool as fucking get out with a firearm like that. It straight up suited them. Willem decided it was hot and gave it a double glance, maybe two.

"You look like a video game... in a cool way."

The compliment felt needed.

But moving along into the Livvy's home. Willem wouldn't know Figaro would have expected, but he knew what to expect with how many times he'd made these excursions to check the dolls. He navigated the home with ease.

Figaro wasn't wrong for thinking it was sad. Willem knew it was. It was why they didn't mind when Figaro first chose to stay at the ball. Sad things like this were often easier done in private. Modesty for humility. Smalls said no judgement and Will felt safe enough he wasn't unaware of how it would come off.

They laughed about the shrine and even turned red to some extent.

"I'm pretty sure she's my number one hater wherever she is now and has a voodoo doll of me and with its nuts in a vice on a Battleship board and keeps tossing it overboard. I have a theory they had something to do with Pan's flood making the blizzard melt day randomly a double hard moment for us because only she would hate me enough right now to want to make every moment of my life as hard as it could possibly be."

Even saying his theory out loud made him laugh.

"I'd have deserved it though. From her mind. We broke up after sailing on a ship across the water. Trying to drown me just makes sense to me. Poetic Justice. Whatever better form of justice is there?"

Despite it being oddly morbid he said it playful with humoral candor.

Then Figaro agreed to head on out and search for Livvy's uncle's closet.

"Okay, that's good. You come find me then."

He was going to go looking for Smalls, but Smalls said they'd come back when they were done, so they changed their mind and would wait for Smalls to come back to them.

When Figaro headed out Willem went along with his routine of tinkering with each shelf. He'd careful take ever figurine and doll off one shelf at a time and neatly lay them on the bed while he dusted the shelf and then cleaned the figures themselves before standing each one back one at a time. As he did this, he'd make sure any soft ones were fluffed and their dresses were tidied, shoelaces or bows flounced, and hats properly straightened. If Livvy had told him anything particular about the doll, he'd go through that memory in his mind to pay it homage to what sentimental value it held in the secrets of their faces. To the one he had no information he sent the same appreciation because there's sentiment in the bond of a knick knack, a memento, a toy, that's far stronger than just a memory.

He once considered memories like pages in a book of who a person is. They can be turned and re-turned again. He could read the same chapter more than once as many times as he liked for fun, but never truly relive it. A souvenir or memento of a memory is simply that, a small token. It could be thrown away or lost, but the memory still exists. The chapter can still be filed through in one's recollection. A doll however, a toy with a face, for some reason feels different to Willem than some token. Even silent it looks back. It gives the feeling it experienced all your eyes saw in that same memory. It experienced what you did. A shared experience becomes a friend not a souvenir. One can look into those non-moving eyes and think they were there. Maybe it was nuts? However, if you were a person who could also take those same dolls and bring them to life if he wanted the idea might not seem so farfetched. Lifeless dolls might seem more important than just some old attachment that needed to be let go of.

To Willem's credit he hadn't gone as far as bringing any of Livvy's dolls to life, but it had entered his mind. He was under no delusion he'd ever see Livvy again and he didn't want his old girlfriend's living dolls being a drain on relationships. He was bright enough to realize that could be a deal breaker moving forward. He just hadn't gotten to the fully moved forward part yet.

Okay, so he'd done a little messing around. Zero existed. Even Piper existed, more new, Nutmeg. These were not people who were ever going to be in Willem's life in a permanent way. They were when the mood hit kind of friends. These were complicated friends, not actual relationships.

All that said, none of it was on its mind now. Just the dolls were. When he finished with the cleaning, he'd pick up that mermaid again and sit down on the bed. It had a tendency to get the most favor and longest time being held. It had the vast majority of memories attached for Will. He laid back with it. He sat it on his chest and admired its face as he relaxed. He'd glance over at the shelf and give it a smile. Then he'd smooth over the mermaid's glossy hair. Motions like had a way triggering other past memories like turning Livvy into a doll at Barbie and Ken's party. He remembered the texture of her hair and the sand. He recalled the paints. He could relive every brush stroke of the artwork like muscle memory as porcelain slid under his his fingertips.

He sang one of the lines to the song he wrote Livvy just above a whisper. "If you don't feel that this is real then I'll just walk away. Way deep down I know I found the that proof that love can save. So take some time to figure out what this thing is all about. I hope some day you feel it too. I promise that I'll try to love the best I can. You make me a better man. Whatever this is leading to. For the first time I'm gonna listen to my heart."

Then he took a big breath and sat up. He kissed the little figurine. "I guess it all led me to you pretty lady. I saved you from the boxes. I can live with that."

Then he shined up her face one more time before placing her back in her proper place knowing full well his heart would always be with the dolls. It would be a big enough win for him.

"Thanks for being a part of that." He added as he tapped one finger tip on the glass after closing the shelving unit back up.

It left a smudge.

"Woops."

So, he went to Windex the last spot before he was completely done with the room. He cleaned it spotless enough for a bird to smash into. He was pleased with his work. He joked to the dolls, "Lucky this thing isn't a patio door."

“Now that would be entertaining to see. Especially if you two do the awkward dance of trying to pass each other but stepping in each other’s way,” Figaro said. Bright sides, sunny sides, you had to have the light to be able to have the dark too. Figaro tried to keep the balance.

Chili Dogs. Now that sounded good. Just the thought of it was enough to get the hunger going, the saliva flowing, despite being in this stink of a place. “Fuck it, we’re sneaking into Halloweentown one of these days. Once you try one of their Chili Cheese Dogs, your life isn’t going to be the same.”

Hansel as a handsome guy though? “It’s weird,” They said. “I feel somewhat … almost maternal over him? Guess I kind of am a parent now.”

What an odd thing to think about. What an odd thing to realize. In Funkytown, the dynamic hadn’t really changed. Figaro was in charge but hardly ever acted on it. It felt - wrong, somehow, to try to take control, having watched Gepetto give them their own autonomy, their own thoughts, their own actions. So Mr Punch kept being uncontrollable. Hansel kept living in the walls and being a bit of a pervert, his human body still having human feelings, thrusting against a wall while watching through a peephole.

“Yup, keeping this on me,” They agreed. It was not a good smell. Eventually all of the flesh and organs would rot away and then it would just be bones, which didn’t have as bad of a smell, but right now, it was pretty rank. The place needed some sort of Fabreeze cleansing. Or maybe Frank and Delta spent so much time up in their castle, they didn’t even know that it smelt so bad down here. They needed some sort of comment box, in Figaro’s opinion.

All of their information about guns came from movies and videogames. They knew at the very least to turn on the safety for now, until they would need it. “All I need are some green plants, and we’ve gone totally Resident Evil in this bitch.”

Great minds think alike. Figaro was also all about upgrading their setup at home. Getting a bigger TV, though the vintage one had been moved into their room, because they weren’t going to get rid of Gepetto’s things, other than giving some to Willem, of course. But it felt like he was one of Gep’s kids too. The stuff was THEIRS. Not just inherited by Fig. Better sound system, more gizmos and gadgets.

Figaro let Willem take the lead since they didn’t know their way around the apartment block. They had the gun in hand, waiting for a chance to use it. To ‘blast them’ as Thomas would say. Their knowledge of annoying curses and animal speak wasn’t the most useful for a zombie situation, except to get birds and other animals to let them know where the zombies themselves were. They had to bring out the big guns.

They didn’t say anything about Willem having the key. It just made sense, given that he came to visit the dolls. Others might have found it a bit romantic, perhaps, that he kept visiting his ex’s apartment, taking care of her things. But Figaro just found it practical.

The two of them went through the building, checking around corners, making sure that there wasn’t something waiting on just the other side. But it looked as if the building had mostly been cleaned out. Any life that was here that would have drew the zombies in, disappeared a long time ago. Still, once inside of the apartment, Figaro turned the lock on the door to feel a touch safer.

Though they were anxious to get at that Hawaiian shirt collection that hopefully had not been eaten away from bugs or faded by light coming in through the windows, they were curious about Livvy’s room, and would follow Willem inside. It wasn’t exactly what they had expected.

The shelves were new, and taken care of, that much was clear. It wasn’t covered in dust and cobwebs like everything else. The dolls seemed to be in a place of prevalence. They stood out, like they were an important item in a video game or something, rendered more predominantly.

“I’m a little surprised,” They admitted, hands on their hips, looking at the girliness of the room, the teal color that was on everything, the bit of a mess of clothes from when Livvy was deciding what to pack all that time ago for the big boat trip. “I was expecting a huge shrine to you,” They said, looking to Willem. “Or did you get embarrassed and take that down?”

They weren’t trying to be funny or teasing, that’s genuinely what Figaro thought that they would walk into when it came to Livvy’s space. A whole wall plastered with pictures of Willem, maybe some with Fig but with Fig’s face cut out or something like that. Pieces of his hair, his toenail clippings, on a shelf. This was a voodoo town after all, it wouldn’t be hard for some white girl to get their hands on some sort of love potion or DIY-Voodoo-Doll set. But it was actually pretty … relaxed in here.

They were watching Willem more than the dolls after that, making sure that he was going to be alright while doing this. But maybe it was something that he just needed to do, the way that some people just needed a big cry. Something about it being cathartic.

‘Miss her if she comes back.’ ‘Don’t get too lonely.’

It was … kind of sad.

“Yes, I’ll leave you guys to talk and gossip and … do whatever it is that y’all do in here, no judgment,” They said, putting their hands up and backed out of the room slowly. “I’ll come find ya once I finish raiding that closet.”

[starlost-maniac]

I Slept with My Boss - Ch 1

Warnings/genre: SMUT, piv, pia, protected sex, one night stand, mxf, mxm, multiple orgasms, multiple partners, club/drinks, voyeurism, pet names, daddy kink, double pen, oral, color system

Pairing: ot8 SKZ x fem!reader

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS, DNI

dividers made by @cafekitsune

"Y/n? Are you ready yet?" Your friend calls out.

"Almost, Yoonae!" You call back. Yoonae walks into your room, seeing you sit at your vanity, applying makeup.

"I'm taking you out every night until you start this new job. Hopefully it helps you get over him." She says, sitting on your bed.

"Please don't mention him." You groan, putting the cap back on your lipstick. You put your phone, lipstick and mascara into your handbag. You turn towards your friend, ready to go.

You enter the club behind your friend, skipping the line of complaining club hoppers. She takes you right up to the bar, ordering you both drinks.

"Let's see if we can't find someone to help clear your mind." Yoonae smiles, taking a sip of her drink. You groan again and roll your eyes. Normally, you wouldn't be down for the club scene, even more so for a one night stand. Yoonae was your best friend though, so you trusted her opinion.

"We don't have to." You say, babying your drink.

"I know, but I know it'll help." She says, looking over the crowd. "I'm going to mingle. I'll bring someone back." Yoonae wiggles her eyebrows at you, making you laugh. She steps away from the bar and walks off into the crowd.

About 20 minutes later, she comes back with two handsome men as you were sipping on your second drink. You raise a brow at her as she walks up, a wide grin on her face.

"You said 'someone', not 'someones', Yoonae." You set your glass down on the bar.

"I know, but two is better than one." She flashes a sly grin as the two men behind her chuckle.

"Fine, but you're paying for a hotel room." You point to your friend.

"No need. We have a room set up across the street." The man on the right says with an Australian accent. You look the two men over. The one with the Australian accent had broad shoulders, curly hair and large dimples when he flashes you a smile.

The man to the left has sharp features, and even sharper eyes. He looked like a sculpture with how defined his features were. If you hadn’t seen him walk over, you would've thought he was a statue. You initially thought he didn't want to be here, but when you see him eyeing you, a smirk across his lips, you think maybe he does.

"I have a good feeling about them. I'm sure they'll take good care of you." Yoonae leans in to whisper in your ear. "Maybe I can find two good ones tomorrow too." She laughs before urging you to go with the men. You watch them for a moment before standing up from your seat. You grab your hand bag and follow the men out of the club, the cool summer night air blows against your skin. Definitely feels nicer than the hot air of the packed club.

The two men stand on either side of you. The Australian wraps his arm around your waist, his hand laying on your hip. The quiet one with the sharp features places his hand on your ass. You cross the street when it's safe and enter the hotel. Leading you to the elevators, their hands not leaving you once in the lift, they ask about boundaries and the light system.

Once silence falls over you again, you look the two men over again, the elevator providing better lighting than the club. The man with the sharp features sees you looking him over and winks at you. Your cheeks turn a light pink. Was it from the alcohol you consumed, or was it the fact that you were between two very handsome men?

The elevator stops on the 8th floor and they step out with you, leading you to their suite. The Australian lets go of you and pulls out his key card. Unlocking the door, he lets you and the other man step inside first. As soon as the door clicks shut, the quiet man slips his hands around you and grabs your breasts, his lips immediately on your neck. You gasp at the suddenness of it but let out a soft moan as you lean back into him, your head tilting to the side. You just barely see the Australian come into your view as he walks around you when your eyes close.

You feel the presence of the man in front of you just before he places his hands on your hips. He presses himself against you and leans his head down to kiss across your collarbone.

"Tell us if you want this to stop at any point. Red and we will stop immediately, yeah?" He mumbles against your skin. You let out a breathy 'yeah' as you feel them both nip your skin. "You wanna get her out of this Min?" He addresses the man behind you. His hands leave your breasts as they snake around to your back. Without taking his lips off your neck, he unzips your dress and slides your dress down off you, leaving you in your black lace bra and panties.

The man addressed as 'Min' pulls back and looks your back side over, groaning softly. He goes around to your front as the Australian steps back. You open your eyes to see them both staring at you, looking you over. They both groan out, apparent tents in their pants.

"Why am I the only one that's losing clothes here?" You tease, gesturing to the two men still dressed. They quickly strip themselves of their clothes as you take your heels off, feet feeling relief from the shoes. They strip down to just their underwear.

"So," you start. "How are we doing this?"

"Do you want us one at a time or together?" 'Min' grins, eyes wandering over your body.

"However you want me. I'm yours for the night." You smile. 'Min' looks over at his friend.

"You want her first Chan-hyung? Want me to go first? Or do you want her together?" He grins.

"Mm. We have enough condoms for a one on one and for us together." Chan grins. "You go ahead first, Minho. I'll watch." He goes and drags a chair closer to the bed and sits down. Minho nods and turns back to you. He steps back up to you and holds your jaw in his hands, tilting your head back. He kisses you deeply, forcing his tongue into your mouth and you groan loudly. You wrap your arms around his waist and press your body against him. He groans into your mouth and bites your lower lip.

Minho reaches behind you and unclips your bra. You move your arms off him for a moment to let the clothing drop to the floor. He slips his hands to your front, cupping your breasts in his warm hands and you moan softly. Kissing along your jaw and down your neck, he nips at your skin as he massages your breasts, feeling your nipples harden against his palms.

"You feel so perfect.." Minho mumbles against your skin. He slides his hands across your skin and down your sides, one hand moving to your back down to your ass, the other slipping between your legs to cup your clothed heat. You gasp and moan out softly. "You're already so wet, too." He grins and kisses the top of your breasts. You grip his hair and shoulder, moaning softly as Minho rubs you through your soaked panties.

"Let's get these off and get you in that bed." He gently bites your breast and slides your panties off, letting them drop to the floor. He places his hands on your ass and picks you up effortlessly, having you wrap your legs around his waist. He walks you over to the bed.

"There's a condom on the pillow for you, Min." Chan says from his seat. He had stripped himself of his boxers and was lightly stroking himself. He nods a thank you and lays you on the bed, pressing his still clothed dick against your wet entrance. You moan into his mouth when he kisses you. He slips a hand between your bodies and immediately rubs your clit slowly. He places one hand on the back of your knee and pushes your leg open. He slips his fingers on his other hand down to your entrance, his digits sliding over your hole.

"So wet.." Minho mumbles against your lips before slipping two fingers inside you, thumb finding purchase on your clit. "So tight too." He kisses and nips down your neck to your breasts. You arch your back a bit, feeling him press against the sensitive spot inside you. He chuckles and gently bites at your nipple, pulling a gasp from you. You hear Chan quietly groan from his seat.

"Need you to cum on my fingers first, kitten…then you'll cum on my cock." Minho says before sucking harshly on your nipple. He slowly fingers you for a bit before kneeling between your legs. His thumb is replaced with his lips as he licks and sucks on your clit. Your hands find his head as he slips a third finger inside you. You feel your orgasm building quickly as he fucks you with his fingers faster, his tongue sliding along your clit slowly.

With a harsh suck to your clit, you arch your back and cum. Minho continues to thrust his fingers in and out of you through your high before sliding them out. He licks up your release before sucking it off his fingers. Standing up, he gently places your leg back down. He takes his boxers off and grabs the condom off the pillow, opening it and rolling it onto his throbbing member.

"How are you feeling, kitten? You ok to continue or you need a break?" He looks down at your fucked out face, making him chuckle. You nod slightly, softly telling him you're good. He nods and lifts your legs again, having you wrap them around his waist. He grabs his cock and lines himself up with your entrance. You didn't see his size, but he's definitely big enough to give you a delicious stretch. You arch your back again, your cunt still a little sensitive. He bottoms out inside you, and you're sure you just feel him against your cervix.

Minho softly rubs your thighs and hips while he lets you adjust to him, smirking as he sees your brows scrunch up, your hands gripping the sheets. He looks over at Chan, his friend still lightly stroking himself. Looking back down at you, he places his hands on your hips and slowly starts to thrust inside you.

"So much tighter around my cock than my fingers. She might be a tight fit for you, hyung." Minho laughs.

"Mm..we'll see." You hear Chan chuckle. Minho leans over you, placing a hand on the bed, the other still on your hip as he grinds into you. He brings one knee up onto the bed, trying to get as deep into you as possible. You bring one hand up onto his arm, the other still gripping the sheets.

"Look at me, kitten." He demands as he thrusts into you hard, pulling a loud gasp from you. You open your eyes and look up at him. He was smirking as he looked down at you. "Good girl." He mumbles. He leans down and kisses you deeply as his hips thrust into you faster. The sound of skin against skin and your moans filling the room. He pulls from your lips and bites your neck, sucking a large hickey onto your skin. You arch your back, your breasts pressing against him. Minho slides his hand from your hip to between your bodies, thumb circling your clit.

"Can you cum for me again?" He whispers against your neck, you nod a little. He nibbles across your collarbone before latching onto your breast. You already feel your orgasm building again. You hold onto his head and the sheets, moaning louder as you squirm under his touch a bit. He fucks into you hard and fast, rubbing your clit just as fast. Arching your back again, you cum hard, cunt clenching around Minho. He groans against your breast, continuing his ministrations on your clit.

"Fuck.." He whispers into your skin. He fucks you through your high, his own quickly approaching. He releases your nipple with a pop. "Almost there, kitten." He grinds into you, pulling louder and longer moans from you. You squirm a bit more, getting over stimulated. He stops rubbing your clit and places both hands on your hips again, sitting up as he fucks into you. After a few more hard thrusts, he cums into the condom. He continues to thrust his hips a bit, spilling entirely into the condom.

He slows his thrusts until he stops entirely, you both breathing hard. He grins over at Chan as he pulls out of you. He takes the condom off and ties it closed before dropping it in the waste bin. He switches with Chan, now sitting in the chair his friend was just in. Chan kneels next to you on the bed.

"How are you feeling, sweetheart? Do you need a minute or something to drink?" He pushes sweaty hair off your face.

You shake your head. "I'm good, I'm good." You smile at him, pupils blown wide. He nods and looks at Minho, who passes him a condom. He looks back down at you.

"Think you have a few more in you for the night?" Chan grins wide when you nod. He immediately slides two fingers into your sensitive entrance, pulling a loud gasp and moan from you. He chuckles and looks at Minho. "She is tight. You may be a tight fit like he said." He slips a third into you and slowly fingers you. He slides his boxers off with his free hand. He fingers you faster, pulling more and more moans from you, your walls clenching around his fingers.

He leans down and gently kisses your lips, pulling back momentarily to whisper, "Cum for me, princess." You shiver at his words, back arching as you clench around his fingers again, cumming fast. "Such a good girl." He says against your lips. He pulls away entirely, fingers leaving you. A whine slips past your lips. He puts them in his mouth and sucks them clean. He opens the condom and rolls it on to his length. He grabs you and flips you over onto your stomach. Grabbing your hips, he pulls you up onto your knees.

He presses his tip against your cunt, slowly pushing himself in. He groans at how tight you are as you moan out. He definitely felt a lot bigger than Minho. He holds you in place by your hips as he slides his entire length into you. He stills himself once he bottoms out, gently running his hands across your skin in a soothing way.

"How you feeling, princess? Color?" Chan asks as his rough hands send chills across your skin.

"Most definitely green." You say, breathy. He chuckles, slowly sliding out to the tip before slamming his hips back into yours. You moan loudly into the bed, your hands gripping the sheets tight. He does that a few more times, your eyes rolling back as you moan loudly. You feel his chest against your back, his breath hot against your ear as he fucks you more gently, teasing you.

"You're going to be a good girl for daddy, hmm?" He whispers, sending chills down your back. "You're already taking me so well. Wanna feel you cum on my cock, princess. Then you're going to be a good girl and take us both, yeah? Gonna take Minho's and daddy's cocks?" He growls a bit. You nod, letting out mumbled 'yeahs'. He chuckles before kissing across your shoulder blades, leaving a large hickey between them. He sits up and fucks you slowly, making you groan out.

He reaches around your waist, fingers finding your sensitive clit. He rubs you fast as he picks up his pace again, fucking into you hard and fast. You start to lift your upper half off the bed. Chan quickly put his hand on the back of your neck, holding you down on the bed. He grinds into you making you groan loudly. Your back arches as much as it can as you feel the knot in your stomach snap. You cum hard around Chan's cock, clenching around him.

"Good girl." He groans. "Such a good fucking girl." He mumbles out, fucking you through your high, hand not leaving your neck. His other hand moves from your clit to your ass, gripping your cheek. He continues fucking into you for a few minutes until he thrusts as deep as he can, cumming into the condom. He groans as he pulls out of you, taking the condom off and tying it off. He tosses it in the same bin as Minho.

"I've never heard you call yourself 'daddy', Chan." Minho laughs out. "That's definitely new. The boys are going to love that." Chan just rolls his eyes and gently pats your ass that was still up.

"You ready for round three, baby girl? Or do you need a minute?" Chan asks, leaning down to nip at your hip.

"I think…I need a minute." You breathe out and lay flat on the bed. You hear both men chuckle as you close your eyes.

"Let us know when you're ready, kitten." You hear Minho say, you nodding in response. You hear him stand up and feel the bed dip from his weight not long after. Both men's lips and hands are gently touching you, caressing your skin. You shiver a bit when their fingertips glide over your skin. Chan kisses and nips at your hips again, feeling him leave a few smaller love bites on either side. Minho's fingers ghost over your sides up to the sides of your breasts and back.

After a few minutes, you open your eyes and tell them you're ready. They grin and Chan helps you up. Minho stands himself and grabs another condom. He strokes himself a few times, making his cock fully erect before opening the condom and rolling it on. He sits back in the chair, Chan guiding you over. He steps away for a moment and comes back, handing Minho a bottle of lube. He pops the cap and pours some onto his dick, making sure the condom is completely coated in it.

"Be a good girl and go sit." Chan smacks your ass, making you squeak. You go over to Minho, who smirks up at you. He grabs your hips and turns you around so you're facing away from him. He gently kneads your ass before he has you position yourself over him. He helps you lower your hips, his cock slowly penetrating your ass. You gasp out and moan. Gripping the arms of the chair, you lower yourself entirely onto him. Minho groans out, his head lolling back momentarily. Once you're settled, he grabs your legs and throws them over either side of his, opening your knees for Chan.

"Such a good kitten." Minho whispers against your neck, placing a few kisses between your neck and shoulder. You groan softly when he starts nibbling on your skin. One of his hands snakes its way up to your breast, the other down to your clit. He plays with either nub, his dick twitching inside of you as you moan out. Chan steps between Minho's legs.

"Color, princess?" Chan asks as he rubs his wrapped cock through your folds.

"Green.." You moan out. He smirks at Minho before looking back down at your cunt. He slowly pushes himself in, being extra careful as he knows you're going to be really full. You arch your back at the stretch and at Minho continuing to rub your clit slowly.

"Fuck, baby girl. You really take us both so well.." Chan breaths out, watching as your cunt takes him. You were even tighter with Minho's cock in you. Minho grunts a bit as Chan slides into you, feeling Chan's cock rubbing against his while inside you and under his hand on your belly. Chan places his hands on your hips as he bottoms out inside you, a low groan escapes his throat. They let you adjust for a bit before they start to thrust into you, both setting a slow and easy pace to start.

Your head lolls back onto Minho's shoulder. You let out breathy moans into his ear, making him groan out. Minho moves his hand from your breast to under your knee, pulling your leg back towards your chest. Chan chuckles and moves one hand from your hip to hold your other leg back. Minho rubs your clit faster as they fuck up into you faster and harder. They praise you for how well you're doing, how well you're taking them. You squirm in their arms, clenching hard around them, making them groan loudly.

"Can you cum for us, princess?" Chan asks on a hard thrust. "Be a good girl and cum for daddy and Minho?" He mumbles out.

"Mm..fuck. Cum for us kitten." Minho grinds into your ass, you clench hard again as you feel your orgasm coming. You grab onto both of them as you arch your back when they attach their lips to you. As they bite and suck on your skin, you cum hard, clenching around them. They both groan loudly and cum almost simultaneously not long after you. They thrust up into you a few more times before they carefully slide out of you.

Chan picks you up and gently lays you on the bed. They both take their condoms off and toss them out. Minho lays next to you in bed and coos to you, giving you soft, gentle praises while Chan goes to the bathroom to get a rag to clean you with. He comes back and gently wipes your skin down, softly cleaning between your legs before tossing the rag on the bathroom counter. He turns the lights down low before laying on your other side, putting you between them.

"How do you feel now, sweetheart?" Chan places a gentle kiss on your temple, running his fingers over your skin.

You smile sleepily. "I feel good. Really tired though." Both the boys laugh.

"Did we tire you out that much, kitten?" Minho leans down and nibbles on your throat. You tilt your head a little for him, a sleepy moan slips past your lips and he chuckles.

"Get comfortable, baby girl." Chan kisses your lips before laying on his back. You turn onto your side and cuddle up into Chan, draping your leg over his. Minho cuddles up behind you, laying flush against you, purposely pressing himself against your ass. Minho tucks his leg against your core as he covers you all up from the waist down before settling down.

You fall asleep fairly quick afterwards. Chan places his hand on your arm that you have on his stomach, his other arm under you and Minho. Both men talk quietly before falling asleep themselves.

Taglist:

@honeyybbuubblleess @gnabnahcbby @skzittomebabyuhhuhx3 @kenia4 @sweetprincessleah

[satureja13]

Jeb picked Sai up after his shift and they headed upstairs to the game room of Moogie's Bar. Sai was excited. Will Jeb watch the stars with him like Jack and Vlad did? How romantic!

But they walked past the loveseat with a view. Sai: "Hm? What is it then?" Jeb: "Look around the corner."

Sai: "My gaming corner?! How did you get all my stuff here?" Jeb: "I asked Noxee to sent it."

Jeb knows how much Sai needs his alone time. Jeb: "Since you don't have a room for yourself here on board, I thought you'd like to have a space of your own. Where you could do your computer stuff in peace. No one will disturb you here." Sai: "Omg Jeb! This just feels like home far away from home!"

Sai: "Thank you."

Jeb: "I'll leave you alone now. Have fun!" Sai: "Oh, I will!" All the things he can do now! The only computers on board are in the community areas or at the bridge - and there's always commotion. This corner migh be small, but it's quiet and no one will come up here once they'd started the engines and there's nothing to see out there except for the dark-greyish subspace. This is heaven for Saiwa. And Jeb made it happen.

Except - Sai didn't have fun. Did Jeb just shove him away? Stored him in the furthest corner of the ship? Sai knows how much Jeb wanted him to move into his apartment at their home in Tomarang. Did he change his mind? Sai knows Jeb too well, he probably thinks he's not good enough to be with him - again... Because Sai wants nothing more than to loose his virginity to Jeb - but Jeb can't give him what he craves.

After Jeb left Sai to have some fun in his new computer corner, he went over to his best friend, Kiyoshi. To pour his heart out.

But he's busy with Jack... again... Jeb: "Oh, I'm sorry. I'll leave." Kiyoshi: "Don't worry. Stay."

And of course Sai was right. Even after being together for so long and after talking about this so often - Jeb still thinks Sai is too precious for him... But luckily Sai's oldest friend, Jack, is here. Jack knows how much Sai loves Jeb and that he can't live without him. Sai will never give up. Neither Jeb - nor his plans to finally lose his virginity - to Jeb. And: Jack also knows that the solution for their problem is already in the works. But also - as hard as it is for 'Big Snout Jack' - he can't spill the beans ö.ö So even though it's killing him inside, Jack said: "Don't worry, Jeb. Some things you just can't force. And there's nothing you can do than to just sit it out, hm? Have faith." (TMI: This is actually one of the hardest things for me. Learn more about this (imo) important topic -> here) Jeb: "Uhm, ok..." Kiyoshi seems a bit stunned by Jack saying words of wisdom. But even this happens from time to time :3

Meanwhile Sai left his new gaming corner. He can't just sit around here and do his computer stuff in peace - he's a man on a mission. He went to their quarters - to find them empty. So he took the chance to take a bath to play with the toys again. Soon he'll be ready for Jeb's 'wand'. And it didn't hurt a bit to this point - given you take your time and go slow and prepare thoroughly, just like Jack and Ji Ho - and later also Kioyshi - told him. Plus Sai and Jeb still practise their Tantra each day. They are able to dive in the deepest state of bliss when they make out. Jeb won't even notice it's not Sai's hands on his 'wand' when the time comes. And then finally, finally Sai will give his virginity to his beloved - but oh so hesistant - Jeb.

Uh - oh. The door. Jeb is back ö.ö' Sai wanted to have finished before he returned. Now Jeb will think he kept all the fun for himself - again...

(I usually never post pics with the walls down - but Sai really tensed when Jeb entered ^^')

Sai took the face mask off. Time to face Jeb...

Sai: "I'll just get dressed and than I'll give you my very special thank you present for my gaming corner!" Jeb: "Uhm - ok..." Jeb's mood was damped since he overheard Sai in the bathroom last time. He feels like he isn't man enough for Sai when he has to pleasure himself... without him.

But when Sai stepped out of the bathroom, he took Jeb's breath away. Jeb whispered: "You look so hot." Sai: "But I shouldn't have put those damn plastic pants on over my still damp skin in a hurry!"

Jeb: "Gods are you hurt? Wait, I'll heal you." Sai: "No need to. Let's go to our bedroom. I'll just take them off again - slowly ;) " Jeb: "Are you sure you - you are ready to - to ...do it again?"

Sai: "I didn't go all the way in there. I'll just go there together with you." Jeb: "Vanië..."

Sai: "Let's take these clothes off."

And a few minutes later, Sai took Jeb to the realms of pleasure and bliss.

'… Loving you Isn't the right thing to do How can I ever change things That I feel?

… If I could Baby, I'd give you my world How can I When you won't take it from me?

… You can go your own way Go your own way You can call it Another lonely day You can go your own way Go your own way

Tell me why Everything turned around Packing up Shacking up is all you want to do'

Fleetwood Mac - Go your own Way

Outtakes

When they entered the game room and Vlad stood behind them - grinning creepily - and Sai was about to start hissing ö.Ö' Poor Jeb ^^'

Sai telling Jeb he is going to go nowhere until he's finished with him hahaha

From the Beginning 🔱 Underwater Love 🔱 Latest

Current Chapter: starts ▶️ here Last Chapter: 'Here comes the Sun' from the beginning ▶️ here

📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 23-29

[femlesbianbarbie]

Pairing: Cowboy!Abby Anderson X Femme Reader

Summary: This follows the plot of their wayward bride by Vanessa Vale. Basically, you run away from an arranged marriage. in the process of running away, you get lost in a blizzard and Abby saves you. Now you are trying to get to know each other and figure out how to move forward.

Chapter 2

Waking feels like a chore you almost don’t want to. You are cuddled into a bed with someone at your back, their hot breath on the back of your neck. Wait, who are you in bed with? You sit up and turn to see a woman lying beside you

. It all comes rushing back to your father and that man, running away, and the person who you know realizes it is a woman cuddled beside you. She's the one who pulled you from the snow and kept you warm. You’ve never heard of a woman working on a ranch before. 

“Are you done staring?” She asks, her eyes still closed, startling you slightly. “Oh yes, I’m sorry” you press a hand to your chest only to be met with bare skin. “ Where are my clothes?” You ask, pulling the blanket up to cover yourself. “They were frozen. You can borrow some on mine,” she explains sitting up in the process and exposing her breasts. They are small but very cute. Why are you thinking like this? You barely know this woman. “Is your head feeling alright you took quite the tumble last night?” she asks, pressing the back of her hand to your forehead. “I feel fine, a little sore but alright.” 

“How about some breakfast if you feel up to it of course.”She offers to step from the bed, leaving you to stare at her exposed skin. “Umh sure” You blink a couple of times with a blush coating your face. You can wear this for now. I'll find you something better later. I'm sure Dina will have something that will fit you.” She explains handing over a simple white slip. “These are hardly clothes.” the headmistress at your school wouldn’t even let you wear just a slip in the comfort of your room. “It will be enough that you aren't going to be able to leave here anytime soon.”

“What do you mean?” You ask slightly frightened she may try to keep you here against your will. Had you really traded one cage for another? “The snow hasn’t stopped, it will take weeks to clear enough from you to get off our land let alone get you back where you came from.”She explains. “ Now how about that breakfast.” she looks at you sitting on the bed slip still in hand. “Would you mind waiting outside the door while I put this on?” You try to regain at least some of your modesty. “Of course” She smiles and the sight is breathtaking.

✨ ✨ ✨ ✨ ✨ ✨ ✨ ✨ ✨ 

“Who is Dina,” You ask, slowly eating your oatmeal trying to savor it as much as you can. “She's my friend, her wife Ellie works the ranch with me. They have a little boy named Jj” Abby whose name you've just learned says before taking a large bite of oatmeal. Her bowl is twice the size of yours. When prompted she only stated that she was a big girl and she needed to fuel her muscles. “How many others work the Ranch with you” “There is Ellie, Vi she's got a wife Caitlyn she's a really good hunter, then Sevika she has Mel but they've got their eyes set on this girl in the next town over,” she explains before scooping the last bite of Oatmeal into her mouth.

“How did you come to be here? Ranching I mean” you smooth a hand over your slip nervously. “ I was in the army with Ellie when we were discharged. We wandered for a bit before she met Dina. This was Dina’s family's ranch but they passed away and now we take care of it.” “And how did the others get to be here?” You feel nosy but you're so curious. You can’t even read about anything this interesting, “ Vi and Ellie were friends before the war and after they found each other again Vi brought Caitlyn then Caitlyn invited Mel and Mel brought Sevika.”

“So do I get to ask my questions now” Abby asks, grabbing your empty bowl and moving to clean it out. “ Yes, but I have the ability to decline”. “I wouldn't expect anything less. Why are you out there in a blizzard? " She dried the bowl before setting it in the cabinet. “I was running away.” You follow her as she heads into the den the fire from last night dying out. “Who were you running from?” She asks adding a couple of logs and stoking it slightly. “My father wanted me to marry and wouldn’t let me refuse.” you sit on the couch crossing your legs carefully. “ And you don’t want to marry.” She asks, turning to face you. “It's not that I don’t want to but he had to pick this man. He is so old. His kids are probably the same age as me and he looks like he killed his last wife.” You explain an annoyed tone taking over. “So it was the suitor that was the problem”.

“Yes. Why are you so interested in my suitors.” You ask as she sits next to you. “Well I was hoping to court you.” your head whips over so fast a crack reverberates through your body. 

“Really.”

“Yes. Is it that nerve-racking.” 

“It's just that… You're so beautiful surely you have someone”

“Why would I lie in bed with you if I had someone”

“I don’t know”

“I'm not asking anything of you other than to stay a couple of days and see if you like it here. If you like me.”She had the last part so quietly you could barely catch it.

“I’ll stay, it's not like there is another option right now.” 

“If you still want to leave when the weather clears I will take you to the next town or back to your father’s home if you prefer.” Abby offers still staring at you, her freckled cheeks flushed a soft red. “I appreciate that” You don’t know what compels you to take her hand but as soon as you do her eyes light up as she smiles. “ so what do you have to do around here”

✨ ✨ ✨ ✨ ✨ ✨ ✨ ✨ ✨ 

You and Abby spend the day reading and exchanging stories of your childhood. You had learned her father was a doctor and he too had sent her to a boarding school in hopes she would want to become a doctor as well. Only Abby had been kicked out after starting a fight with her childhood best friend Nora. They hadn’t seen each other since that day after finishing Abby headed upstairs to get ready for bed trailing behind her. “Did she ever apologize for getting you kicked out’? “No, She hasn’t sent me so much as a letter since that day. I tried to reach out when her mother died but she wanted nothing to do with me.” She explains sliding into bed. “But you were best friends, how could you go from that to never speaking again?” Abby just shrugs as you round the bed to sit next to her. “It happens more often than you would think.” you cuddle into her side to leech some of her warmth. “I had a best friend when I was in school.” 

“What happened?” Abby asks, her hand petting over your hair. “Her father sent for her. I guess she is married now, maybe she even has a kid.”. “We could try to find her so you could exchange letters.” Abby offers. She is so kind there is no doubt in your mind that the man your father arranged for you to marry would not have ever been this kind to you. “I doubt her husband would let her talk to me anyway. Maybe I could meet Dina soon, we could be friends”. “Im sure she would like that”

@willowwwwwwwwwww

[the-yersinia-plague]

Intro

Excerpt from Sabre's Journal

"I knew I shouldn't have let Plague Steve use that potion. My gut told me it was a bad idea to infect Infinity Steve with it, but I ignored it. Now it's too late. The damage done. It's just... The situation was dire. We had tried everything we could to defeat Infinity, but nothing was strong enough to harm them in the slightest. Until Plague stepped up with this potion, claiming it would surely kill them within three to six and a half days... Those couple days would be the last days, where everything was truly okay. I'm not sure who to blame for this. Plague or myself. Shifting the blame to Plague would be the easiest thing to do, sure. But it wouldn't be right without the proper proof. He didn't seem to expect such a terrible outcome. And neither did we. It started in the dead of night. Fittingly enough there was a thunderstorm going on. Lucas, Light and Rainbow were all asleep in their respective rooms in the Rainbow House. I was also in my room, but couldn't sleep. That night I was still hanging over some blueprints for an automatic defense contraption for the gate and the wall around town. The first sign that something was wrong, were odd crashes out in the storm. I chalked it up to be lightning hitting stuff and didn't think about it much further. I should've gone out and checked the situation... Maybe then I could've changed the outcome? When we went outside the next morning, it was pretty clear something had attacked the town. Signs of struggle and demolition everywhere. The Steve Temple had been broken into, judging by the smashed windows. Venturing inside revealed a scene that had all our stomachs drop. Inside the temple we found the remains of what could barely be identified as Infinity. Their body was horribly deformed and mangled. It was gruesome. I don't wish to go into detail right here and now. I'll create a proper document for the disease later on, when I have collected sufficient data. Upon discovery Lucas and I froze in shock. Light Steve passed out and Rainbow Steve began to whimper and tremble, dragging Light back out of the temptemple. What was worse than Infinity's corpse on the ground however, was the fact that the machines holding Red Steve, Green Steve and Blue Steve were ripped open and named steves missing. If Infinity attacked them, while infected, then there was a high chance the disease got transmitted to them. Which meant they were now dangerous. Lucas and I decided to be as cautious as possible. Protecting Light and Rainbow from this new threat is now our top priority. We agreed that the Rainbow House was probably no longer safe enough. So now we're hunkering down in the bunker beneath the town. Rain was confused at first, when we helped him with Light and brought him towards the bunker. After a brief explanation he quickly understood the gravity of the situation. We wanted to get Plague in with us, but he was nowhere to be found. To this day he is missing. I don't know when he left or why. Out of guilt? Or did he know? Either way, we must find him somehow. He might be our only key to stop this disease.

Lucas and I will need to haul supplies from the Rainbow House to the bunker soon. But for now we're set. Light and Rainbow are currently not allowed to go outside. It pains me to do this to them, but it's for their own safety. Then again, they don't seem eager to go outside anyway. Sadly the Light Shrine, where we used to talk to the Skypeople, was damaged after Infinity's rampage too. So we have set up a new, smaller Shrine for the Skypeople in the bunker. Hopefully their messages will still reach us down here. I trust their guidance will help us through this difficult time. There's plenty of Rainbow Stone down here too. I want to experiment with it. Maybe I can turn it into something that will help against the disease. I am by no means a scientist, but probably the most fitting one of our group to take on this task. I have to at least try. I have to."

[tia-amorosa]

Episode 8: Last Day for Two (Part 1)

The next morning, breakfast was accompanied by one of the family's older ghosts, Victor Grusel. At least more or less. “And you're sure you'll find your mother, my dearest?“/”I'm not sure, but I'll try everything…“/”We used to have many scientists, but no one who dared to venture into such spheres. I wish you every success“/”Thank you, great-grandfather”…

After breakfast, Cassandra went upstairs to change her clothes. “Oh, you've made yourself pretty, Cassandra. But surely not for the desert? I don't want to know how hot it is there"/ ”No, I want to go straight to Don's, he's off again today. I'll definitely pick something else for Strangetown"/ ” mhm. Then make the most of today"/.

“Thanks, I will. And try to get out a bit too“/” well, I wanted to get some new oil paints anyway,…"/,,See, that's a good reason to stretch your legs outside. I'll be back here tomorrow morning"/ ‘Oh… I see. See you tomorrow then’. Cassandra deliberately wanted to spend the last few hours together with Don. Due to work, there was always little time to really spend the day together. Today was going to be different.

A little later. Don opened the door with a big grin. “Hey, wow, you look great“/”hn-hn, and you too, actually, as always grin. Can I come in?“/”Yes, sure. Have you had breakfast yet?“/”Yes, not even an hour ago”. He took both her hands and looked into her eyes. Then he kissed her and slowly pulled her into the house.

He closed the door once they were inside and go on with it. He kissed her passionately, which she was only too happy to accept. He pressed her tightly against him again and kissed her neck, then returned to her lips. “oh, D-Don, don't make me so weak“/,,you just taste so good, Cassy, hhh, there's nothing I'd rather do right now than taste everything of you”.

“I'm sorry, Don, you know I want nothing more than you right now. But I can't…” Her voice trembled a little. “What was the old witch thinking? I'm allowed to kiss you, but not sleep with you?“/”It's about the act itself, Don…And…we'll probably have to wait a little longer now, I have to go away for a few days“/”what? where?“/”Strangetown, a few colleagues asked me to come there because of my mother”.

“You have to go to another city because of your mom?"/ ”It's about all the equipment that's supposed to help me find her. Don. Everything is already different between us anyway… I understand that you're sleeping with other women just because you… can't wait until I'm ready for you. But I love you…”. Don paused for a moment. Then he looked at her and realized how important the whole thing was to her now. “And you love your mother. So take care of that first, okay?"/ ‘And you're not angry…?’…

“No…why should I be mad? Because I'm horny as my neighbor's dog and my fiancée is under a curse and I'm not allowed to sleep with her? It's damn unfair, yes. If I didn't want you, I would have broken up with you long ago, wouldn't I? Besides… I feel partly responsible for your mother being gone. I shouldn't have called her here so late, then maybe she wouldn't have disappeared"/ ‘Oh Don’…

“We are a strange couple. I let you sleep with other women just because I'm not free and only a wedding can redeem me“/”what do you actually do when you get this craving for another body?“/”I… I do what anyone else do in this situation“/”mmh. O.k…. When do you have to leave?“/”Tomorrow”.

“And how long will it take?“/”That depends on whether and how quickly mom can be found“/. “And the boys are Experts?“/”Yes, quite good ones and Polli too“/”who is she?“/”thihi, no “she”, Pollination is an alien who has been living there for many years.“/”uh, a real alien?“/”mhm, do you want to come and see it, hn?“/”no, I'm needed here, you know that. If I was on vacation, I'd say sure!. But I'm irreplaceable at the moment”.

“And do you have accommodation there?"/ ”The boys have a guest room in their house, I can sleep there. Pascal has a son"/ ‘and they're all married or what?’/ ‘No, not as far as I know. hey, is this going to be an interrogation? don't worry, I have to be abstinent anyway, huh?’/ ”Hehe. If I sleep with other women, you can flirt with other men too.” She rolled her eyes. “Oh please, I don't think I'll get around to it there"/ ,,hnhn. And now?” he asked her with a slightly challenging look.

“Well, I don't have to go to the institute today and you don't have to go to the clinic. Either we make ourselves comfortable here with a few movies, or we avoid any atmosphere that could lead to… Sexual desire and get me into trouble. We could go swimming instead“/”you in a swimsuit, or worse, bikini…hmm“/”hmm…let's just go out, shall we?” He smiled, kissed her again. “Alright, I'll take you wherever you want”.

@greenplumbboblover , @solorisims , @plumbobgothica 🙂

Note: Unfortunately, I can't say which poses I used back then. I really don't remember. Sometimes I get really annoyed that I don't make a note of which poses I used at a given time. It's often difficult or even impossible to find them again.😥👀

My story posts are also welcome to be shared.😊🙂

[ilikeyoshi]

weird bittersweet post about ocs and trauma bc it's been on my mind lately.

i think the weirdest thing about playing my current dnd pc as long as i have—and i've noticed this happen with several ocs over the last few years, but jita's the most relevant—is realizing how much more of myself i put into her than i ever consciously intended.

it's pretty normal for me to give my ocs A Struggle™️ that i also have, because it's something familiar to me and something i want to see characters dealing with to help normalize or understand myself better. it's also a way to distance the struggle from myself enough that i can think more rationally about it; a safe way to study and practice it. i think a lot of people do this, both intentionally and very, very unintentionally too.

it used to be weird to me how many of my ocs i gave struggles to before i understood i had those struggles. raein and his autism, l'aiha and her chronic pain—but jita's unintended struggle was something that took so much longer to recognize, and then after that, longer still to accept.

i always thought her particular way of coping with her trauma—of lying to everyone, including herself, so much and so frequently that she grows into a person she can no longer separate from the lie, someone who literally doesn't know who they are without the lie, someone whose entire world depends on the lie—was not something i really dealt with. in this case, it was something i sympathized with and wanted to understand better not as an experiencer of it, but as an onlooker that believed it was both sad and understandable.

and this year has kinda made me realize how wrong i was about my proximity to this struggle. i'm not just an onlooker, but someone who very much experiences it. i guess it makes sense i didn't know, and it makes sense it took me so long to realize it: the entire point of this issue is to lie yourself into a new reality, one where even you no longer know the truth, because the lie IS the truth to you and everyone around you now.

it's a coping mechanism. it's protection. the truth is too hard to live with—be it because of its scale, cruelty, senselessness, etc—so you reinvent the truth into something you can control, even if that new truth punishes you. in jita's case, she made herself believe her trauma was all her fault, because if it was her fault, that means there was something she could have done differently, and there's something she can still do differently going forward. her entire reality hinges on this delusion now: she can't handle a version of events where she is not overwhelmingly guilty of its happening. anything that threatens the delusion's legitimacy sends her into a panic or rage. she is not someone who can be helped by sentiments like "it's not your fault" or "they wouldn't blame you", because those things are precisely how she gives herself control over what happened. it NEEDS to be her fault, and they NEED to hate her, or else there's nothing she could have done differently, and nothing she can do differently next time.

this is, in its details, extremely different from the struggle i subconsciously pulled from myself all those years ago—but in its broader strokes, it's almost completely identical. the therapy i've been doing this year has been the hardest of my entire life. to both my surprise and not, jita and i share a skill in presenting the version of ourselves we want people to believe in: a persona who seamlessly conceals our true identity and the difficult, ugly things that lurk within it. from the moment we meet someone, that person is being fed—not a lie, necessarily, but an extremely carefully crafted impression. i think everyone does this to one extent or another, even people without "baggage". we want to put our best foot forward in a new potential relationship.

but throughout that relationship, jita—and myself—are meticulously (and even subconsciously) evaluating the person in question. there are a million unspoken tests, and failure in any of them results in that persona we've built staying up forever. you do not get deeper. you do not ever get to see who we are underneath it. this is not your fault, but rather the fault of an extremely complex coping mechanism that is, by design, extremely hard to get through.

and, perhaps i'll only say this because i'm still so early in my journey of discovering and dealing with it, but i don't think this coping mechanism is all bad. it hinders my ability to make close friends with the grand majority of people, sure, but it's there to protect me from reliving trauma. it allows me to ensure the people i DO let in are trustworthy, which i definitely believe there is a healthy amount of that process in everyone. mine, and jita's, are simply TOO strict. we are shutting out trustworthy people too, and we are depriving ourselves of peace, growth, and healing.

but we feel stable in this strictness. for me in particular, i used this process to completely shut out every therapist i've had over the past eight years, and for a while, i also held my current therapist outside the wall. until this year. slowly, i've let her in, and now that she's in, she's threatening the lie i've built my entire reality on.

for jita, this is her party. as they learn more about what happened to her, they—correctly—have come to the conclusion that the event wasn't her fault, and the other victims of the event wouldn't have hated her for the actions she took during the event. they have been chipping away at the lie that is the foundation and armor of her entire reality, and it has been excruciating for her. it's undeniably hurting her—but so is the lie itself. i have always known one of my goals for her, as a character, was to overcome this. to find belonging and stability in the truth again. i believed, and still believe, that she is better off in a truth she can't control than a lie she thinks she can.

you see what i mean, don't you, about how distancing the struggle from myself makes it easier to understand? i can see in full the pros and cons of jita's struggle, and i can say, with unwavering confidence, that the lie must be abolished for her to truly be safe and happy.

i've always known this would be a campaign-long journey for her. i knew this was not something that could be rectified in any measure of time other than excruciatingly slowly, with countless setbacks and maybe, hopefully, a general trending forward. i knew eight years was a lot of shit to unlearn.

what i didn't know, until this year, was that i have at least 25 years of my own shit to unlearn. the details of my issue can be traced back to my earliest youth, and the lie i've built my reality on was forged in the most formative moments of childhood. this is not something i can undo any faster than excruciatingly slowly. it has literally been there, growing with me, since i was at least four or five years old, if not earlier.

i had therapy on friday, and i'm still reeling from it in a way i never have before. i slept for 24 hours immediately following the appointment. i was sick all of yesterday. i'm realizing exactly why my therapist said she'd call me on monday just to check in. confronting this lie is single-handedly the most self-destructive thing i've ever done. it's like ripping off my skin. it's like burning down a field.

but the thing about dead skin and dead grass is, when you remove it, something healthier grows in its place. i believe this will be true of jita's journey, and so i have to believe it will be true of mine too.

[angelsdean]

ruthlessly deleting old 2021/2022 posts (not by me) from my dean studies tag like *click* un-incorporating that from my beliefs system! also the way SO many posts have me like ok uh-huh good aaand then say one completely wrong thing that loses me. it's so many posts.

[medicinemane]

Should make a pain killer that actually kills (or even touches) pain

[eryanlainfa]

Learnt about Welcome Home lore litteraly just yesterday... SO HERE IS MY OC!

Their name as a whole is Weekly! They have a dissociative identity disorder, making them multiple identities within a single body.

(Disclaimer : my OC is in no way a good/realistic exemple of DID. This is a fictional fan-character for a fictional story about a fictional show.)

In a universe where the show aired other days than just saturdays- Weekly is a reccuring neighbour who seems to be a different person depending on which day of the week we're in. Always taking after one of the other neighbours (except Wally) they seem to always be assisting one of them.

Each identity refers to the others as if they were all members of the same family, insisting they are all different people with different lives, and calling you crazy if you dare insinuate otherwise.

They all have different relationships with the neighbours, and different preferences and way of thinking. Some of them do share memories with each others but not every identities will remember the same things.

[mousegirl-cheerleader]

It's gettin pretty tough to keep squeakin I'll tell you that much

[cerbreus]

it’s been a hellish last couple months dealing with being caught in the crossfire between incompetent rental car agency that is mad at me and incompetent car insurance company that didn’t tell me the person handling my claim fucking QUIT and MY CLAIM WENT FORGOTTEN FOR MONTHS and it still isn’t resolved in fact things have gotten worse and tbh, when i have major stressful setbacks in life, my body and brains’ response is to just. not. do anything. just shut down. intense fatigue, inability to focus on literally anything because the background level of stress is so high.