#so it’s a big plunge down from that high LMAO

[wistrea]

oh the woes and struggles of writing a fem oc…

[spookwyrdie]

Riled Up

{part 1}{part 2}{part 3}

Bang Chan x Reader x Han Jisung

word count: 1.2k

summary: You were going to be in a lot of trouble when you got home if the way Chan was staring daggers at you across the bar was any indicator. But the dance floor was so tempting, Jisung’s arms wrapped around your waist were so inviting, and the music was made for swaying your hips against him. Chan will have to show you both who you belong to.

genre: smut, power play

warnings: adult dialogue, sexual content, dom/sub dynamics, jealousy, threesome,

a/n: branching out from femdom to write about jealousy feels very apt for me rn lmao. i don't want han has a bias wrecker....BUT THE PARASITES....THE DEMONS in me want han as a bias wrecker

(⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄

I have only posted this here and on AO3 - user: spookwyrdie

Jisung is already on his way to the dance floor as the DJ starts playing one of his favorite songs. You turn to Chan.  

“Come on, let’s go dance!” you said, tugging on his sleeve. 

“No, sweet thing, I’m a little tired tonight.” He brushes you off, taking a sip of his whisky on the rocks. You know how hard he’s been working lately; tonight was supposed to help him unwind, get out of his head a little. You pout, pulling out all the stops, trying to get him to come with you. 

“Pleeeeease?” 

“Why don’t you go dance with Ji? He’s already out there on the floor,” Chan says, nodding towards Jisung, who had already started shaking his hips to the beat. Chan takes your chin in his hand to give you a little peck on your pouting lips and sends you on your way. You throw one last pleading look over your shoulder as you get up, but Chan grins, a stubborn glint to his eyes. 

Fine, if he wants you to go dance with Jisung, you’ll do exactly that. You make sure to add an extra sway to your hips as you walk away from the table where everyone is lounging, knowing Chan won’t be able to take his eyes off you.  

You toss your arms around Jisung’s neck once you make your way to the floor. He grins wide when he sees you, giving you a big hug.  

“Y/n!”  

“Hey Ji!” you shout over the music into his ear. “You mind helping me make Chan a little jealous?” 

Jisung looks over at where Chan was sitting, leaning back in his chair, watching the two of you with a satisfied look on his face. “Sure! You know I love seeing that guy crack.” 

Jisung pulls you into his arms and soon you fall into a rhythm, your hips in unison. He presses you closer until there’s no room between your bodies. The bass pounds through you as you feel his body moving against yours. Running your hands over Jisung’s body as you dance, you use him as a prop for your seduction of the man sitting across the room. You make sure to trail your fingers down Ji’s chest, spinning around and leaning your back against him, you roll your hips into him while making direct eye contact with Chan. The way his eyes bore into you, sitting forward, glowering, makes you giddy. You smile at him, challenging him.  

Jisung was a great partner in crime, his hand slinks around your body to rest on your lower belly, gently pressing your pelvis back into him, grinding you down onto him. You gasp a little at how tantalizingly close he is to your core. His hand slides over the thin fabric of your dress, his fingertips brush against the edge of the elastic of your panties. He groans, hooking his chin over your shoulder. You turn your head to look at him, but his eyes are not on you in this moment. You follow his gaze.

He’s staring at Chan across the room, a daring gleam thick in his eyes, goading him to the dance floor. He’s enjoying putting you on display as much as you enjoy riling up Chan. 

The music changed from high energy to something darker, more sultry. You turned back towards Jisung, foreheads basically touching. Your hand roamed to the back of his head, plunging your fingers into his wavy hair. Groaning into your touch, he readjusts to slot a thigh between your legs. You gasp as his hands on your hips press you down on his thigh, only a few layers of fabric between your core and his skin. You’re so close to him, looking up under your long lashes you watch as something playful and wicked flits across his face. He bites down on his lip as he smiles at you, giving you a slight nod.  

Jisung’s fingers sink into your plush hips, and you feel him pull gently, encouraging you to rock against him. Desire floods through you, gasping at the slow friction you’re building between your bodies, getting lost in the rhythm of the pulsing music. You and Jisung are pressed together so close, you felt your heart flutter a little bit as he huffed a laugh against your skin. He tilts his head in such a way that you think he’s going to kiss you – and oh, how nice that would be right now along with the hot pressure of his thigh against you. You see his eyes drift away from your face, a lazy smile stretches across his face. 

“Oh, he’s definitely riled up now.”  

You look over your shoulder to find Chan sauntering over. He looks like an animal, quietly stalking up to its prey. The look in his eyes is deadly and it makes your chest constrict with excitement at the thought. Your little show had paid off.  

He snakes an arm around you, pulling himself flush with your body, hard muscle pressing into your soft curves. Swaying back and forth with you to the music, he buries his face in your hair, growling in your ear, “I said dance with Jisung, not fuck him on the dance floor.” 

You turn to meet his eyes, mischief radiating from your smile, “Jisung was a great suggestion, I got carried away with the music.”  

You peck him on the cheek with that. His grip on you gets tighter and you arch back, grinding your ass directly into him, feeling his cock already half hard. He hisses at the contact, placing a strategic kiss right underneath your ear, grazing it with his teeth. Your eyes flutter as you gasp and your head lolls to the side, giving him more access to your neck. 

Your body is sandwiched between Chan and Jisung, rocking back and forth to the rhythm of the music. You can barely hear it anymore, you’re lost in the sensation of being pushed and pulled between these two men. Chan’s breath is hot and heavy against your neck, nipping and sucking at the skin, littering the side of your throat with angry red marks. Jisung leans back to take in the image before him, his palm drifting up your arm to your collarbone. His fingers trail gently up the opposite side of your neck, dancing along your jaw until they rest against your lips.  

Your eyes meet his as he gently presses his index and middle finger against your lips. You oblige, pulling the digits into the wet velvet of your mouth. His fingers are slightly salty as your tongue glides along them, curling around the digits. You watch his jaw drop open as you suck on his fingers, you can feel his moan resonate in your chest where you’re still pressed up against him. His hips jerk up towards your body as you pull his fingers into the heat of your mouth, his hard cock straining against his pants presses into your pelvis. Caught between these two bodies, grinding back and forth, feeling your clit drag against Jisung’s thigh while Chan sucks on your neck has you nearly fucked out on the dance floor.  

“You better take her home, hyung,” Jisung says, eyes still fixated on your mouth. “Before she gets carried away again.”  

Chan pauses his attention to your neck, glaring at Jisung, lips still hovering over your throat. 

“Watch it, Ji.” 

“Oh, I will,” he grins, his teeth shining in the low light of the club. “Couldn’t look away if I tried. 

[blossom-boo]

Hey blossom boo! Just want to say how much I’ve loved your work on saucy’s blog. Now, you were talking about inserting Bojan and Jure into the miniverse. Have you had any thoughts about that? Can’t have my boys feeling left out of the feminisation fun. Bojan needs to be put in a pretty dress to go with his collar. Perhaps Jure wants to look pretty too? 👙👗👠

hey boo!! im extremely grateful you like my work. i am working on expanding the narrative i started (with the help of 💫boo, who has gratefully gotten in touch) on saucy's blog. im not sure how plot intensive i want to that to be, but at least enough for all the situations im about to put the boys through to be cohesive - if that doesnt work ill just say fuck it and write a million one shots lmao - we will see.

having said that, why not do some headcanons for jure & bojan while you wait, hm? (semi?) nsfw underrrr

for bojan :

* initially, he probably got extremely upset thinking he couldn't wear short body con dresses - his thighs are so thick, the band barely even touches the back of his legs with how it stretches. fortunately, his dom loves it. come on, its easy access. also a big fan of sundresses (see : easy access. that much better if it has a plunge neckline or a cut out on his chest or back). gets extremely distracted while wearing dresses from all the sensation and not so secretly gets off on how clumsy it makes him.

*as for lingerie, he starts with lace boxers, and then just spirals.

*not the biggest fan of g-strings, but will wear them if you ask. lace is definitely his favourite - its all about sensation for him. initially, he was a little bit ashamed of just how much he enjoyed wearing bras and bralettes.

*100% loves wearing harnesses and garter belts too.

*refused to try stockings initially but relented and regrets not doing so sooner. so much sensation.

*not yet comfortable putting high heels on, but okay with other feminine shoes, like mary janes, especially if hes wearing a longer, more flowy dress

*call his hole a pussy if you want him to cum instantly ❤️

for jure :

*into silk more than lace

*loves wearing g-strings

*more into skirts + bra combo or maybe skirt with a crop top, but will wear dresses on occassion if you ask

*loves garter belts but not stockings, they rip too easily, and while yes, thats part of the fun, he cant help but feel like his fun is dampered if they rip randomly and its not his dom doing it

*that much more enjoyable if his lingerie is matched with his outfit

*hestitant to try high heels initially, but actually extremely comfortable walking and playing in them once he actually starts

*loves putting on makeup for his partner(s), puts on lipstick and mascara for the sole purpose of getting it messed up

*neutral about having his hole called a pussy, but call his dick a clit and hes instantly going down ❤️

[cilant-lis]

road, arms, hair and change for elan?

yayyy an opportunity to talk about my poor little meowmeow [asks]

road: What does your OC wear while traveling? Do they have high-quality equipment, or are they making do? What does their gear look like?

For travelling, Élan wears a long coat, on top of his usual doublet. It's of course embroidered and appropriately elegant. Something like this:

At the beginning of act1, their equipment is a hodge-podge of what they could find, but over time their equipment improves, both in terms of practicality and aesthetics. He spares no expense on his gear (and makes a dent in the party's finances each time he comes across a merchant) and keeps it in good condition. In general, Élan puts in a lot of effort into his appearance.

arms: Does your OC have any weapons? What weapons do they carry, and how do they wear them when they're not fighting?

Élan is primarily a magic user, so they rarely use weapons. He is able to use a rapier though, and when he comes across a very nice one during the game, he starts using it. It looks something like this, but with a narrower blade (élan has 8 strength lmao):

hair: How does your OC wear their hair? Does it have some kind of meaning?

Élan keeps his hair very long, down to his waist. He takes really good care of it, and he thinks it's his best feature. As for hairdos, it really depends on how much effort they want to put in, so they range from a simple low ponytail, to very intricate, typically elven hairstyles. However, they don't really like tight hairdos, like buns or braids, and they prefer to have a portion of their hair loose.

change: Has your OC ever drastically changed their appearance? Significant haircuts, big tattoos, complete wardrobe swap, etc? Why? How do they feel about the change?

Élan's appearance changes with each identity they take on. Élan from his days as a beginner bard looked much different (brighter clothes, short, curled hair, looking less undead) to leader of the Bhaal's cult Élan (long, straight and slicked back hair, loose robes with plunging necklines, a copious amount of jewelry), to tadpoled Élan (looks like he crawled out of a grave). There is a significant change in his appearance after the end of bg3, when Élan cuts his hair to collarbone length (and it begins to curl again), gets tattoos of Lathander's symbols on his palms and changes his wardrobe completely, from structured pieces, to looser and more relaxed silhouettes. He also looks healthier, finally getting more sleep and eating properly. For them, this change signifies a new beginning, a rebirth, free from Bhaal's influence and finally able to be his own person.

[super-lad]

i'm reading a wired article about how in 2016 three teens sometimes running shitty DSL connections got so good at hacking they knocked several big sites (amazon, twitter, facebook, etc.) off the internet for a few hours and were subsequently hired by the fbi. article highlights include:

the apparently high stakes world of amateur hackers where kids and teens take down random sites and each other's routers for skill improvement, petty revenge, or by typical internet fashion: for the shits and giggles. sometimes, they'll SWAT each other if they're mad enough. it's like lord of the flies in there.

these teens having personal problems IRL and sublimating their feelings of powerlessness into an almost god complex with deciding when servers gets to live or die

one guy bombarded his school's router with so much data that it fried from overheating

one target's router had a dynamic IP that would constantly change so they instead targeted the town they lived in and took down all the networks feeding data to that area. collective punishment y'all, they were monsters

exhibit a for why you don't need an app for your fridge. someone can infect it with zombie scripts to send DDOS attacks with 650,000+ other dumb IoT devices ad hoc to throw a terabit (1 TRILLION BITS) per second at whatever they wanted. do you know what your average computer's bandwidth is? maybe 10~ megabits if ur connection is really good.

starting a business to protect Minecraft servers from DDOS attacks and running DDOS attacks on their own prospective customers to unknowingly convince them to use their protection services. that is like a twisted form of vertical integration

there's so much more with how big and uncontrollable their hacking program got

oh and they didn't even get prison time for unleashing the biggest DDOS tool ever that brought multiple big-name websites down over years because they *checks notes* helped the fbi arrest other cybercriminals they knew and taught them their cool hacking tricks over the span of five years to deal with derivative programs of their original hacking tool! they were like in their early twenties at this point come sentencing time. ummmmm. wtf. white privilege is truly fucking real lmao.

recommend reading this. it's really a cautionary tale as to why you don't need IoT devices. your lightbulb doesn't need to be connected to the internet lol. and the reason they even caught the guys was because they received user metadata from google on a burner email address and matched IPs with their business email. that's why you should seriously consider how much of your personal data goes into service provider's blackboxes.

[moremaybank]

hi!! last night i had a dream about jj stuffing my panties in my mouth as he was fucking me in his bedroom (the guest room at the chateau) while john b was outside in the living room. i was wondering if you could write like a blurb based off of this, maybe jj x john b's little sister reader?? thanks!!

HUSH — j.m

pairing jj maybank x younger routledge sister!reader

summary jj has to keep you quiet while your older brother's in the next room

warnings 18+, unprotected sex (why am i never writing about protected sex, lmao), breeding kink, creampie, panty stuffing (orally), language

author's note i love your dream mind babes 😩 also, jj and reader are both over 18

jj masterlist

"you gonna be a good girl for me, baby? gonna let me stick your panties in your mouth to shut you up? we can't let your big brother know how good i'm making you feel, can we?"

jj grunted as he plunged into y/n again and again, his cock sending her into a frenzy. her thighs were against her chest, jj pushing down on the backs of them while he drove into her sopping pussy with fervour.

y/n nodded, tears welling up in her eyes as she tried like hell to keep her moans from travelling up her throat. she was clutching onto jj's biceps as she looked up at him, waiting for him to stuff the fabric into her mouth to keep her quiet.

jj smirked, balling up the lace panties that previously rested on y/n's hips and jamming them into her mouth. he loved how she looked before him, that his cock and filthy mouth could turn her into a pretty little fucked-out mess.

"if only jb could see you now, baby. stretched open and creaming around my cock, panties shoved into that pretty mouth of yours," jj spoke, slamming into her even harder than before.

y/n's walls clenched around him at his words, whimpers coming out muffled, "mmph."

she knew john b would kill her — after he tore jj to shreds, of course — but the thought of her older brother catching them in the act only drove her closer to her fast-approaching orgasm.

"you like that, pretty girl? maybe i should call him in here, let him see what a slut his little sister is for me. let him watch me fuck you and load your pussy with my cum," he smirked.

jj hooked y/n's legs over his broad shoulders, the new angle allowing his cock to nudge her sweet spot over and over. and as if that wasn't enough, he brought a hand down to toy with her swollen clit, flicking small circles onto it to help her reach her high.

y/n was sobbing at this point, her nails digging into jj's strong arms so hard that she would surely leave crescent-shaped indents in his skin.

"cum for me, baby girl. squeeze me so fucking hard that i cum too. wanna fuck load after load deep inside your pussy so that you're pregnant by the end of the night. john b would never forgive us then, would he?"

y/n leaned up, wrapping her arms around jj's neck as she clung onto him for dear life.

"oh, fuck. i feel you, baby. come on," jj encouraged, leaning down slightly to kiss her.

he bit down on her bottom lip, and y/n's orgasm rushed through her senses with jj right behind her. she knew he came when she felt him unload inside of her with a groan, his forehead leaning against her neck as his teeth scraped her sensitive skin. her body was jerking as she came, legs trembling and mascara tears staining her cheeks.

the two of them came down, jj still inside of her as they panted. jj pulled the panties out of y/n's mouth with a satisfied grin, "god, you're a fucking dream, baby."

y/n chuckled in response, leaning her head up to press a kiss to jj's lips.

"hey, jj? sorry to...interrupt, but, have you seen y/n? she was supposed to be home an hour ago," john b spoke from the other side of the door.

y/n was about to let out a giggle but before she could, jj covered her mouth with his hand.

"shhh. don't make me shut you up with your panties again," jj whispered.

"i think you should."

[sunflowersteves]

just best friends || e.m.

summary || you and eddie had a complicated relationship, fucks and all. but one day eddie had just about enough. 

author’s note || hello!!! this is my first big fic in like,,, nine months lmao wow. i hope you enjoy!!

warnings || little bit of angst, smut!!, afab!fic, sex in a van ya know, unprotected sex, eating out, fingering, lots of pet names, [18+ only, minors DNI]

masterlist

Eddie Munson was your best friend. Well, best friends that fuck on the side because the two of you are too scared to break any dynamics. 

You always came to the hellfire club weekly meetings that were held in a small classroom in Hawkins High, which means you were friends with Dustin, Lucas, and Mike too. You would never play, but you would always give the kids advice on their next moves. 

Eddie loved it when you came to their club—he always made sure there was an extra seat for you. He would wrap his arm around you as he described the ferocious monster that was about to attack the team. You would always laugh, head tilted back as Eddie made monstrous sounds and wild hand gestures. 

By the end of the game, everyone was either happy as can be, with big smiles or pouty faces from a loss. The club always ended with you and Eddie, alone, talking about everything and nothing. After your conversation would die down, the two of you would stare at each other intently. Then immediately, he would always sink to his knees—plunging into you like a madman.

He usually would just drop you off afterward, waving goodbye and a quick “see you tomorrow” before driving off in his van. But, something felt different this time—something felt off.

During this round, the dungeon master had won, which resulted in all of your friends leaving with defeated faces. You still stayed around like normal, but Eddie was quieter—much quieter.

You hadn’t realized you were babbling about until his hands gripped the surface of your thighs, your skin stinging at the cold sensation of his silver rings. 

You had chosen to wear a skirt today—the hot august month had everyone burning up more than ever. He looks up at you for a moment, almost quizzical, as if he was thinking a little too hard. 

His eyes flicker away from yours. “Wanna get some nachos?”

You blinked, heart pounding against your chest. He subconsciously moved the pad of his thumb back and forth on your thighs. You then shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. “Sure.”

That leads now to your current situation, sharing nachos in the back of Eddie’s van that was parked near Lover’s Lake. He was still quieter than usual, and all you could do was babble on about nothing in particular. It was definitely odd, but at least you were enjoying the very horrible gas station nachos that he so treated you with. You were resting your back against the side of the van with the nachos perched on your knee. Eddie was right beside you, legs slightly brushing up against another. 

You both ended up reaching down for the same nacho, hands brushing up against one another. Your eyes widened at the feeling of his calloused hands smoothing over yours, even if it was just for a second.

“Oh, um- sorry.” You were expecting him to reply with something snarky as a joke, but as he stayed silent, your back straightened a little. Yeah, this was definitely weird. He was still looking at you with his mouth slightly agape, but you couldn’t bear to look over at him. Your body felt like it was burning, heat rising with each passing second under his gaze. 

But then you heard his voice, your eyes slowly reaching his own. 

“Listen, I-,” He looked away, finding the cassette tapes on the floor of the van much more interesting. “I-I can’t do this anymore.”

You had now placed the nachos to the side. You tried to respond, but nothing could come out of your mouth. Can’t do what anymore? Did he not want you anymore? Did he still even want to be friends? Why was he so nervous? Can’t do what?

“I can’t keep pretending that I don’t want to kiss you when I pick you up in the morning.”  He twirled his ring around as nervousness bubbled inside of him. “I can’t keep pretending that when I see you, it’s like, it’s like—” He paused, eyes snapping shut. “I can’t keep doing whatever we’re doing. I can’t pretend that I don’t love you.” You hadn’t realized how close his face got to yours until you felt his breath flit onto you. 

“Then you don’t have to, Eddie. Stop pretending.” 

Not even a beat had passed as his lips pressed against yours. His hand smoothed onto your cheek—bruising as his mouth swallowed yours. Your hands rested right on top of his knees, just begging to get closer to the metalhead. 

Your hand moved into his curly hair, gripping tightly while the other one stayed right on top of his knee. He could’ve sworn that was the best feeling he had ever felt. Your body felt alive—pulsating with every kiss that turned harder and harder. His tongue teased yours—sucking and licking as your bodies gradually pressed further against each other. 

You let out a whine when he let go, which, of course, made a chuckle arise out of him. “So eager, sweet girl.” 

He was fucking grinning—cocky stature never wavering. You almost wanted to smack it off of his face, but he was quick to pull you right on top of his lap. His hands dented into your waist, pressing kisses all over your face. 

“So cute you are, huh? Can’t get enough of you.” You giggle at the sensation of his hair tickling against your skin.

He then briefly lifts you up, sliding against the van floor, so you were almost sitting on his face. His hands connected to your thighs and slowly widened them with a dazed smile. Your eyes widened at the implication, just expecting a quick fuck. Your hands dragged themselves up to his shoulders. 

“Oh, Eddie, you don’t have to-”

His nostrils flared, “No, sweet girl, I need to.” 

He lifted up your skirt, a string of curses releasing from his mouth at the sight of the white lace that adorned your mound. His eyes flicker from your skirt to your eyes. “You want this, yeah? We can stop. I won’t do anything you’re uncomfortable with, okay?”

You shook your head, feeling too hot as you licked your lips. Your hands dragged down the length of his arm, begging for anything to happen—needing anything to happen. 

“Please, Eddie. Please–” 

He devilishly grinned, “Please, what?”

His finger tapped along the side of your thighs as he waited for your response. The whine that left your throat went straight to his cock. “Please, touch me, Eddie–”

His finger looped around the band of your underwear, pulling and tugging it down your legs. “‘m gonna taste this pretty pussy– oh fuck–” Your slick was dripping out, the smell lifting into his nose. He moans, “If anything is too much, give me two taps on my hand okay? Jesus—I might not be able to stop—fuck you’re so wet,” his finger couldn’t help but wiggle his way through your lips. You mewled at the sensation—an involuntary grind of your hips heaved in his face.

He let out a low guttural moan. Your walls are thick and spongy and so so good. Your pretty little whimpers were music to his ears—he couldn’t get enough of them. His tongue licked and sucked your clit, your hand tugging and pulling through his luscious hair. His finger curled ever so slightly that made your toes curl. His other hand tightened on your thigh, rings giving an all too familiar string. 

God, you tasted so sweet, so earthy. “Sweet girl, you doin’ so good for me.” You looked sublime. Your eyes were tightly shut, and your mouth hung open. You almost cried when he removed his finger, but it didn’t last long before his tongue lapped your cunt.

“Fuck, Eddie—Oh, fuck-” His nose pressed deeply against your clit, tongue, and lips, still sucking and pulling and licking. You were gonna break. You were definitely gonna come. It was all too much—his hair tickling your thighs, his eyes never deciding whether to watch your pretty cunt or look at your blissed face, and his hands—his fucking hands. 

“You gonna come on my tongue, sweetheart? C’mon, you can do it. You can make a little mess on me, yeah?”

You could hardly respond, blistering heat crashing over you as your thighs shake and quiver. You screamed his name over and over again, and your hands gripped his forearms so hard he thought he was going to bruise. He continued to dig his tongue inside, feeling the way your cunt convulsed. 

“Fuckfuckfuck–” 

Your body almost felt limp—his smile was so goddamn proud. He licked his lips, and his eyes almost rolled in the back of his head at the taste of you. He moved you, so now you were laying on your back, fingers aimlessly drawing patterns on his forearms.

“You want my cock, sweet girl? You want me to fill you up?” You couldn’t even say anything as your hands desperately reached his belt buckle. You hadn’t ever gone this far with Eddie, despite the many, many thoughts you had about it. You were too afraid to ruin the already perfect routine with him. 

He chuckled at your excitement before tugging his jeans and underwear down to his ankles. God, he was big—thick and bulging and red tip aching. You were practically drooling at the sight of him. 

“Hmm, you like what you see?” His hand laid flat on your hip, aligning himself up to you. “So big, Eddie–” his name was cut off on your lips as he fucked into you deep. He was slow, too slow. He was lavishing in the feeling of your slick puffy walls milking his cock. 

“Fuck, shit, baby—I’m not gonna last long, your pussy is—fuck–” Your brain felt blurry and unfocused like your brain was thick and dense. He filled you up well, and you couldn't do anything but drool down your chin. He was fucking into you so good—deep and paced. 

He pressed feather light kisses onto your neck, breath fanning up against your ear. “Doing so good for me, baby. Takin’ my cock so well.” His pace started to go faster, harder with each thrust. 

He could feel your walls clenching around him, almost making him cum immediately. You were gripping him like a fucking vice. He could feel that you were close, and his hand reached down to your clit, rubbing with the pad of his thumb.

You mewled at the new sensation. “I’m gonna fill you up, okay? I’m gonna–” He cut himself off with a low groan, whispering your name like it was his last time on earth. His cum filled you and milked you with each thrust, and you came right then and there. 

“Oh fuck, Eddie, Eddie—”

He rode out your highs until you both were absolutely breathless and your juices mixed together completely. He was smiling while pressing small kisses to your forehead. “Gonna pull out okay?” You nodded and whimpered as his cum and yours flushed out of your puffy cunt. 

His eyes shined at the scene while pulling you into him, arms wrapping around your waist. He gently pulled your panties back up and then held your hand, tracing little patterns onto the surface. 

“Did you like that, sweetheart?” His heart stopped as you turned to look at him—eyes hooded, lazy smile, glistening forehead, completely and utterly fucked-out. You looked like a fucking angel. 

“Yeah, Eds.” He pressed soft kisses against your cheeks, hand gently splayed across your stomach. Your eyelids start to droop with the sweet sound of Eddie’s hums next to your ear. 

He taps his finger twice below your chin, “you still with me, sweet girl?”

You opened your eyes slowly, looking directly into his doe-like brown eyes. His hair was a little wild from you pulling on it, and a tender smile rose onto his face. Yeah, he was definitely pretty. Really pretty. “I’m with you, Eds.”

He nodded, “Good ‘cause you’re getting a notorious, best-all-around Eddie Munson post-sex date with lots of cuddles and some Deep Purple.”

You laughed, pulling the ends of his curly hair. “Sounds perfect to me.”

[depravity-n-savagery]

Sunshine's Sinners

Ch 1 - New Neighbors

🌻Pairings: Billy Hargrove x (Fem)Reader / Eddie Munson x (Fem)Reader / Mungrove x (Fem)Reader

🌻Summary: Billy becomes your neighbor when he moves to Hawkins. Coaxing you out of your 'good girl' image one sin at a time. Starting with, sending you to the town drug dealer. ~

🌻CW: Not much warning for this chapter ♡ Drug use/sale (just weed), abusive parent

🛑 18+ MINORS DNI 🛑

🌻Word Count: 1.4k

🌻A/N: Yaayyy!! I've been mapping this out and working on it for a while 😁 My 1st full-blown series on this platform. ♡ Ofcourse it's gonna be Mungrove x you lmao. Although the throuple/triad part doesn't come for a whiiiile so enjoy the slow burn 😉

It was impossible to forget the first night you officially met Billy Hargrove. Autumn was finally setting in, forcing you to break out the long skirts and thin sweaters. Just enough to not sweat. It wasn't consistent yet. Next week could still be a scorcher. Tonight, however, was chilled. So you didn't raise an eyebrow at the double denim you saw on the fresh face outside your house. He was your age, apparently. Part of the new household that moved next door last week. You weren't as social as your mother - who bombarded them with a welcoming pie the day they moved in - so you hadn't met any of them face to face. That was changing tonight.

"Goodness Y/n, do something about your hair. You ever heard of first impressions?" Your mother was smoothing out her dress. A little short for dining with a married couple, but you were used to her dressing that way. Plunging necklines, high skirts, strappy heels… the housewives of Hawkins weren't big fans of her. An empty judgment on their part. None of their out-of-shape, lazy husbands would be your mother's type anyway. Even on their best day.

You were buttoning up the last button on one of your favorite tops. A loose off-the-shoulders top in sunflower yellow, paired with a flowy white skirt. To finish off the outfit, you put on one of your favorite accessories. A flower crown of fake sunflowers and other white and yellow flowers. Your mom looked you up and down, giving you a peace sign with her fingers. "Well alright, hippie. You look cute." A quick peck on your cheek followed, before she was speeding off to the kitchen. A sticky lipstick mark was left behind, but you ignored it. Letting the small sign of affection linger.

In just a week's time, your mom had formed a friendship with your new neighbor. Specifically the wife/mom of the household, Susan. Which led to them being invited over for dinner. The whole lot of them. From what you've been told, while your mom whizzed around the kitchen, there were four of them in total. The husband, a son, a younger daughter, and of course the woman she befriended. A simple little family by the looks of them. The only thing that gave you pause was the son. The boy in double denim. His hair stood out to you in the fading sunlight. A dirty blonde crown of curls, obviously different from the two redheads and his father's coffee dark short cut. One of these things is not like the other.

Ding dong!

Before your mom could yell for you to get it, you were already headed for the door. Susan was the one that rang, greeting you with a shy smile once the door was open. "Uh, Welcome!" You spoke to the family as a whole, standing there awkwardly before you remembered to step aside so they could enter. This is exactly why you didn't usually do social gatherings. Each one greeted you in their own way as they passed (your mother gave you the rundown of their names). Susan gave you a loose hug, and you assumed your mom must've spoken about you alot for her to feel so comfortable. Neil gave you a stiff handshake. It didn't last long, but he gripped your hand hard enough to crack a few knuckles. Max smiled apologetically, giving you an awkward wave. Then Billy entered last, looking you up and down with a toothpick hanging out of his mouth. He also offered you a handshake, but he handled you delicately. Drawing a small circle on the back of your hand with this thumb. Lingering there while your mom showed everyone else where to put their jackets (if they wanted to remove them).

Billy was noticeably taller than you. Your forehead could perfectly fit into the crook of his neck, if you thought to measure such a thing. He certainly made it a point to seem inviting. Polite. Addressing your mom respectfully, and even helping lift some of the heavy food dishes and bringing them to the table. It was a nice event so far.

"Y'know, Billy's gonna be starting his first day at your school tomorrow. Maybe you can show him around." Your mom offered, giving you a pointed look. Here she goes again. Always trying to get me 'out of my shell'.

"I doubt he'd wanna hang around a dork like me all day." The fork in your hand pushed through a clump of mashed potatoes, spreading it around on the plate. You didn't look up. "Besides, if he's into sports, I'm sure Steve and his boys will set him up real nice."

"Steve? That your boyfriend?" Billy snorted from behind his glass of lemonade.

Did he miss the 'dork' part of my previous statement? "Hah, not even close. He's the hotshot around school. Pretty big on the basketball team."

His father Neil, who was previously uninterested in the conversation, suddenly sat up in his chair. "Basketball, huh? You should check that out. I'm sure this Steve isn't as challenging as the guys from your old school."

The table grew quiet waiting for Billy's response, but all he did was shrug. Until Neil gave him a look that made your skin crawl. Piercing and unwavering in its direction. Dead on. That got more of a reaction. Billy cleared his throat and shifted his gaze to the empty plate in front of him. "Yeah. Yeah, I could talk to the coach."

That was your mom's queue to save the mood before it went any further south. Breaking out the fruity 'adult drinks', beers, and leading the parents to the sitting room. After the dishes were cleared, Neil told the two to go home and sleep. Big day tomorrow. So, with a push from your mom, you walked them back to their house.

The second they walked out into the night air it felt like a weight was lifted from their shoulders. Especially for Billy. He threw his keys at Max, nailing her right in the chest. "Get inside. Leave it unlocked."

"Didn't your dad-"

"What are you, the bedtime police? Get the fuck inside!" He hissed, quieting any further questions from Max. She did as directed, closing (but not locking) the front door behind her.

Ah. So all the politeness was a front. Makes sense. He wouldn't be the first teen to put on a mask around parents. Pretty sure we all do at one time or another. The real Billy fished a cigarette out of his jacket pocket and lit it. Sighing once he released that first exhale. Now that was a look of relaxation. "Ah, shit. My bad." He remembered your presence, holding out an unlit cigarette for you. Common courtesy, but you declined.

"Not really my thing. I stick to the green stuff."

"Not surprised." He gestured toward your clothes, grinning as he inhaled again. "I used to get some from my friend, back home. But uh, I don't know anyone that has it out here."

Interesting. So he has a mean streak, and he gets stoned. He'll fit in just fine at school. Plus, as much as you didn't want to notice it, he was attractive. Physically. His attitude was still a mystery. On the subject of getting stoned, you were craving it yourself lately. Reefer Rick was behind bars again, and you smoked your last joint two days before Billy and his family arrived.

"Well, if I find a new guy I'll let you know. Call it my own version of a welcoming gift."

The cigarette was finished quicker than you expected, and it was time to part ways. Seems you also have a big day ahead of you. A small town like Hawkins doesn't get new people very often. The student body was going to be in a frenzy. It had you contemplating sticking a thermometer under hot water. Faking the flu. Food poisoning. Something.

"Save me a seat, flower child." He said, turning to go inside his house. No point in arguing with his back that you're not a hippie - you only dressed like this around the house, where you felt comfortable. It'd only amuse a guy like him. Guys like Steve and the basketball team. They usually enjoyed getting a rise out of you.

Hawkins High (and the middle school) was going to welcome them in a way they couldn't possibly be ready for.

🌻A/N: I'm hyped! Feedback and reblogs are always welcome ♡ I'd love to hear your thoughts ~

Masterlist, Series Masterlist, Ao3 ☆

[leahseclipse]

2AM (Spencer Reid x gen!reader)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Gender neutral Reader (there might be some very light fem!reader mentions)

Category: Angst with happy ending

Warnings: none I can think of!

Summary: The reader locked themselves out of their apartment out of the middle of the night, but a certain genius living down the hall might be able to help.

A/N: Excuse me if Spencer is OOC lmao it's been a WHILE since I wrote about him. Prompt is from @imagining-in-the-margins!! :)

Word count: 1.9k

There couldn't have ever been a day worse than this one, in my whole existence— not one that made me want to give up, go to my apartment and never go back to my workplace ever again.

First off- I arrived late. I didn't turn on my alarm the day before, and woke up at 8AM instead of 7AM.

One hour isn't a big deal, you would say. Well sure,  for a high schooler. 

I had to give that lame excuse, and well… they didn't believe it— everyone throws that one, so it gets old. I've had to work like hell all day to make up for the hour I've missed as if it was one week to my superior (the guy's a bit dramatic).

Second; on my way home, my car decided to stop two times. The little guy decided to play the old trick of the dying engine— turns out a bang on it is enough to stop that drama queen. It's really time I throw it away, I've had it since college. That car is lucky I wasn't on the freeway, I would have gotten yelled at for blocking the road.

Then— because the day didn’t stop there, one of the back tires ended up dying just as I found a parking spot. Here's to another-I-don't-know-the-high-price-of-it-repair off my bank account … as if I needed another bad event.

The finishing touch was when it started raining, and of course, I had forgotten my jacket this morning. Which meant that I had to walk in the rain because running would cause me to break an arm and end up in the ER with another-very-unknown-high-price. 

By the time I got to the door of the building, it was around 2AM. I had to get up in 5 hours. Pretty great amount of sleep for the next day waiting for me.

I didn't even bother to check if the elevator worked. It worked one time out of two and could guarantee you a whole night of sleep inside if the doors would decide to not open. 

I've already been there, except it was the afternoon. I watched at least two movies of two hours each before a technician even bothered to show up.

When I reached the fourth floor, and proceeded to put my hand in my left pocket where I always keep my keys— my hand didn't touch anything but the fabric. 

That's… weird? Maybe it's in the others? 

I plunged my hand in the right pocket, still nothing. I tried both of the pockets at the back— they were as empty as a bank account at the end of the month (trust me, I truly wasn't in the mood for jokes, but that just went through my mind).

I really started to panic after my unsuccessful attempts to find the keys in the pockets of my pants, they're always there! I haven't put them anywhere else in years.

I set my bag on the floor, took my flashlight and examined the whole bag— to the point of emptying it out on the floor out of despair, just in case I had missed it by whatever means— still no sign of them.

There wasn't any way I could have left it at work. I didn't open my bag a single time, all I did was re-organise files as soon as I arrived. I only touched my bag again when I left. It was in my locker, which was closed by a lock— so they couldn't have been stolen, lost, or whatever crazy scenario.

The only place left… right inside of my apartment. I had just locked myself outside at 2:30AM. Right when everything was closed. I could only hope my landlord could pick up, which wasn't 100% sure by looking at the hour.

Still, I took my phone again and dialed the number, just in case he happened to pick up.

I called once.

Twice.

Then soon, five times… all calls had gone straight to voicemail.

He wouldn't be answering until 8AM in the morning, which was impossible. I couldn't stay all night outside. 

I started to get really upset, I had no way to get in, I've just had the worst day, I was really tired, I was cold and just wanted to change into dry clothes; this had to be a nightmare. I was cursing myself for forgetting the keys this morning as hard as I could, I couldn't believe I could have forgotten them, they were right there, on the table next to the door.

Right next to the door. And I didn't even see them. 

More tired than anything at what was happening, all I found left to do was to sit on the floor, back against the door as my face took shelter in my hands.

Who could I even call at this time of the day? I hated bothering people, I rarely asked anything of them, so let alone letting me come to their place. That also included my neighbors, I wasn’t close with anyone.

I started to get frustrated as I was running out of ideas, trying to find something to do to not wander outside. I had left everything in my place, including my credit card, and if I had it, I wouldn’t even be there right now. 

I took it out for some reason yesterday and didn’t think to put it back where it belonged. I. was. Out. Of. Ideas. Officially. If I didn’t care about putting on a show I would’ve called my landlord screaming until his voicemail would be full.

There weren’t even any locksmiths! No one was open at night! Not a single soul! 

Not being able to hold my emotions anymore, I broke down on the spot, sobbing. My day had been full of problems, one after the other, without a single break. 

I was there, a mess as I was sure that my makeup was ruined by all the tears and my hair out of place as I sat on the floor, against the door of the apartment I couldn’t get in.

Until my tears had calmed down, I hadn’t noticed the sound of footsteps coming down the hall. I completely forgot about the possibility of people coming in. Now I had to face someone in that state. Could anything else have happened next? Perhaps the roof falling on me? The whole building collapsing? What else?

“Are you okay?” A voice asked. I lifted my face from my hand to see one of my neighbors that I hadn’t seen in an eternity.

“I… hate to vent to people I don’t know but… not really. I could be doing better. I got locked out of my place.” I admitted, as embarrassing as it was to.

“Could I… be of any assistance, perhaps?” He asked.

“Are you a locksmith?” I asked as well, with a slight laugh.

“Nope. But I know how to be one.” He answered, which surprised me in weird ways.

“You know how to break in?”

“I do, but it’s well- you see, uh… for work? For you know, people that did bad things?” He tried to explain, nervous. “So, yeah, I know how to open a door, when it’s really needed, I don’t actually break into people's apartments for no reason at all to steal or… anything else.” He rambled.

“I… got it, don’t worry.” I reassured him, as I got up from the door. I opened my mouth to say his name, but my brain was completely empty. “Gosh… I’m sorry, I forgot your name.” 

“It’s Spencer.” He immediately answered. “Spencer, yeah. And you’re… y/n?”

“Yeah, yeah.” I confirmed. “You’re making me feel bad now. You remember mine but I didn’t remember yours.” I said as I dropped my head down, looking where I couldn’t see him.

“You don’t have to feel bad! Please don’t, I promise you it’s okay.” Spencer said. “I barely come here because of work, so I wouldn’t be surprised if even the landlord rented out the place to someone else because it’s been ages.” He laughed at his words, bringing me down in his frenzy as I started to laugh along with him. 

“Phew, that was… a good laugh.” He said after a moment. 

“It was.” I answered, looking back at him.

“Yeah, yeah.” He repeated as he looked at me too, before looking behind. “I should get to that door.”

It took me a few seconds to get back to reality, I had some… trouble to draw away from his face. Strangely. “The door, right. The door.” I repeated, nervously, as I watched him get something from his bag. 

“That… should do the trick.” Spencer said, as he held a bobby pin between his fingers, turning to the door as he kneeled down in front of the lock. 

“Thanks again for… the unexpected help. Never thought I’d have someone that wasn’t a criminal picking my lock.” 

“I can imagine it’s not something that happens often.” He answered as he worked on opening the door.

“Never did before.” I said, after a brief silence. 

“And…” He said, as a sound emitted. The door had opened. “Here we are.”

“You did that with just a hair pin. Oh my god.” I looked at him, completely shocked. 

“Yeah, just with that. I know that sounds crazy, but I didn't open it with anything else.” 

“It does sound crazy!” I yelled back. “Oops, sorry neighbors.”

“Sorry.” Spencer whispered back. “Anyway, uh… the way is open, now.” He said, pointing his head to it.

“Yeah, it is. It is.” I said, looking at it as we just stood there. “You should get going, it took a while, it’s… probably way later than 2 now.”

“I should get going, yeah. I should.” He agreed, looking to his door that was just inches from mine. I watched him as he started to turn around, but he suddenly stopped in his tracks to look at me again. “Uh… can I ask you something?”

“Sure, go ahead.” I said.

“I know that… we don’t really know each other and I’m just a guy that lives across the hall and comes once a month because he’s busy with work so he can’t come but I…” Spencer stopped, hesitating.

“Are you trying to ask me if I want to hang out with you?” I filled in the blanks for him.

“...I do.” He answered.

“I accept, then.”

“You do?” He asked, in disbelief.

“Yeah. I do.”

“You do. Okay.” He said, still somehow shocked. 

“I should probably give you my number so we can arrange a time and date… right?” I asked.

“That… would be a good idea. Give me a… second, or three.” He said, as he got out his phone, almost dropping it from his hands as he handed it out to me. I entered the number, saving the contact afterwards as I gave him back the phone. “You added a smile, that’s… nice.”

“I’m glad you like it.” I said, as I turned around to get my bag on the floor. I turned back to him as my hand reached the door. “Well… thank you for the help. Don’t hesitate if you need help… anytime. I’ll be happy to return the favor.”

“I’m glad to have been of help. No problem.”

I slowly stepped inside, maintaining contact with Spencer. “Thanks again. Have a…good night, genius.” I said, as I saw his face turn red when I closed the door.

Well, at least one good thing happened today.

*

Let me know if you liked this fic here! Thanks for reading :)

[theotheroccassionalfanficwriter]

hi! this is just a request but feel free to ignore if you don’t have time or any ideas but could you expend on “between love and lust” mc seducing foul legacy. it can be like a side story or a prequel since it happened before the current timeline.

sorry it took so long lmao law school started already and i'm drowning in cases. Thanks for this ask anon, i forgot about this series even though i already drafter the last chapter lmao, thanks for reminding me it existed hahaha. Anyways here you go, enjoy this unhinged couple lmao.

Prequel to The Consequences of Fucking in Front of the Geo Archon Statue Series: 1, 2, 3

In Love and Lust

Summary: Seeing Foul Legacy for the first time had awakened something in you, in a desperate attempt to hide how inappropriately horny you were, Tartaglia misunderstands your insatiable lust for him as fear.

--

You had always been aware that whatever happened during Tartaglia’s disappearance was life changing. You were prepared for whatever it was when you had pursued this relationship with him, just as you had reassured him you didn’t mind what his job asked of him, you were quite ready to reassure him you didn’t mind his Foul Legacy.

Seeing it for yourself however was another matter entirely.

It changed him. That much you were right.

You just weren’t prepared to see how it changed him.

So there you stood, blinking rapidly in front of your boyfriend who had laid waste to the battlefield amidst Snezhnaya’s white snow. Everything about him was big. His arms, his height,

‘His dic-’

You exhaled, trying to steady your heart and not blurt out something stupid like,

‘Bet I can take you in that form.’

You nodded, your eyes closed as you tried to convince yourself and stop your shaking legs as you took a step forward to your boyfriend’s personal space. All the while chanting inwardly for him to not notice what he just awakened in you.

“Didn’t expect to see you here” You told him, faking calm as you laugh nervously.

‘And wow, his muscles are so close and he’s so warm-’

“Is that so?” He spoke, voice deep, sultry and rumbly that it made your mouth drop and your panties wet.

His face came close to you, your wide eyes and flushed face reflecting on the large white bead on the center. His clawed hands pulled you close, resting gently on the curve of your ass.

You swallowed your saliva as you gently laid your hands on his chest, mind reeling and melting from the sheer force of your horniness for your boyfriend.

“Da-darling?” You gently called him, slight panic in your voice when you felt your warm cloak lifted and the unmistakable sound of your thick stockings being teared.

“Liar.”

In a blink of an eye you found yourself back in your shared apartment. Stockings ripped and panties soaked. Tartaglia was nowhere to be found and you swore loudly,

“At least let me suck your cock!”

You cried into your pillow with frustration as you furiously masturbated and repeatedly came with only your left hand and the vivid image of his Foul Legacy ringing in your mind. You moaned and drooled into the pillow, his lingering scent only fueling your desire and making you blind to Tartaglia’s arrival.

He watched as you fingered yourself, your legs spread wide and exposing your sopping cunt. You were moaning his name, while your free hand played with your nipples. It was a lovely sight that made him hard, it was almost enough to break his reason and make him stuff you full with his cock. Up until he remembered how scared you were earlier when you saw his foul legacy for the first time.

Instead he makes his way to the bathroom, furiously masturbating to the sounds of your moan and wet pussy echoing in the silent apartment. His hand moved up and down his throbbing cock as he imagined your squirming body as you moaned loudly, crying out his name.

He knew your go-to fantasies when masturbating to him, knew the intimate details of your deepest fantasies. So he faps to that, he imagines fucking you in that snow, ripping your clothes and exposing your pliable tits and sopping wet cunt. His cock plunging into your wet pussy, slamming it in and out and stretching it until the sensation left you drooling.

He’d gripped your tits, squeezing it and pinching its perk nipples until your moans are nothing but lewd pants of breath. He’d fuck you from behind, fucking you on all fours like a beast and biting your neck until the skin broke and he tasted blood.

He knew you’d begged for him to stop, even when you’d push your ass towards him, moving your hips in time to the thrusting of his cock. He’d fuck you until you babbled about getting pregnant, your pussy clenching to keep his dick inside. He wouldn’t stop thrusting his cock in and out of you, not even when you would orgasm.

Instead he’d fuck you harder once you told him you were about to come, hands gripping your waist tight as he controlled your body, moving it like a life sized fuck toy meant to relieve his frustrations. He knew how that thought pleases you, the image of you acting like a wanton slut in front of him, was something that never failed to drive him crazy.

His hand, gripping his cock tightened, just as he heard you orgasm from the bedroom. Your lewd voice coupled with his imagination made him cum, thick ropes of cum staining the wall as his hands slowly came to a stop.

Tartaglia sighed, taking a few moments of rest before cleaning up the bathroom. The routine was enough to calm him down, his anger and lust fading away into manageable levels. All of it quickly disappeared when he entered the room and found you passed out on the bed, legs spread wide, pussy dripping and stuffed full with the customized dildo you had made. The dildo was the exact replica of his cock and Tartaglia allowed himself a moment, a single moment of contemplation and acceptance of what being in a relationship with you entailed.

“Nnn...Tartagli..a” You moaned in your sleep.

Then he makes his way to the bathroom he had just cleaned, unzips his pants and begins to furiously masturbate again. In any other time he’d have masturbated to you right then and there, unloading his cum unto your sleeping body, maybe fucking your mouth and spilling his load down your throat but right now the two of you are in the middle of a fight and Tartaglia is petty enough to leave you horny.

--

You woke up the next morning, disappointed that neither your ready pussy nor your mouth had Tartaglia’s cum, your body wasn’t sticky from his dried cum nor was there the pleasant ache of your pussy being used to the fullest. You pout before groaning into the mattress and curling up in sexual frustration.

Tartaglia had a month off.

And you’d rather spend most of it fucking like rabbits, riding his cock, and being stuffed full with his cum. From the sounds outside your apartment window, you knew that at this time, Tartaglia was already in the training grounds.

You sighed before getting up from the bed, not bothering to cover up. You were missing the feeling of walking around the apartment with his cum dribbling down between your thighs. You made your way to the kitchen table, breakfast kept warm and no love note.

You blinked. Searching the entire area for Tartaglia’s customary love note. You frowned, sitting in a daze as you started to realize that something was very wrong.

“Oh no, we’re fighting!” You cried in despair.

You never really liked fighting with Tartaglia, the one that involved cold shoulders and no sex, no intimacy because it was always because you accidentally sent the wrong signal, made social faux pas that even he couldn’t stand and you knew that Tartaglia was the only one who could handle your crazy, your slightly dark tendencies and obsessive personality. Which meant that fights like this always made you want to fix it quickly because you didn’t want Tartaglia to sober up and realize he could do better.

Which meant that there was a need to call up your friends and dissect what you did wrong.

You glance at Tartaglia’s homemade cooking before deciding that the meeting could wait.

While you were enjoying your brunch, Tartaglia was in the training grounds beating up the new recruits and the rest of the Fatui soldiers that were brave enough to step up to fight him. He had slept terribly, missing your comforting weight in his arms and warmth of your body and your cunt warming his cock, he’d masturbated again in the shower, made you breakfast, tempted to fuck you until you woke up while getting dressed and willed his dick down before leaving the apartment.

Tartaglia really, really hated getting into a fight with you. Because it meant that the chances of you waking up and realizing that you could have a normal life were high. His flaws and demerits would outweigh whatever fondness and love you had for him, your childhood sweetheart.

He dreads the day you’d realize you can have stability, because he’d rather not resort to cutting you off from the rest of the world just to keep you by his side. He did his best to ensure you wouldn’t even entertain thoughts of breaking up with him, he catered to your wants and needs because it meant you wouldn’t try to leave. He’d raze the world to the ground if you asked as long as it meant you stayed.

He loved you deeply, darkly, and wholly.

In the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of your familiar lovable and seductive self. And immediately decided to end the spar quickly before any of the recruits got an idea.

He covers your body with his coat, making you wear it properly and hiding the enticing look of your well-endowed body from the virgin killing sweater that you wore. You blinked at him, before you smiled sweetly and devilishly.

“Darling~” You grabbed his arm and he could feel the softness of your breast and Tartaglia knew that you weren’t wearing any bra underneath. He was also willing to bet that you didn’t wear any panties either.

“You-” his words were cut off when he saw your pout, even more so when he felt the fabric of your sweater moved, he looked down and saw that half of your areola were exposed to him.

You smiled at him sweetly, knowing that you’ve already won.

“I missed you so much~” You whined, acting pitiful and cute as you discreetly directed his hand to your lubed up and throbbing pussy.

“I prepared your lunch~” You looked at him from underneath your lashes, drawing attention to your glossed lips, colored pink, and Tartaglia gave up. In a flash, he had brought you home between one breath and the next.

And then you found yourself lying on the bed, you blinked in confusion until you found your arms tied with his jacket, the rest of the sleeves tied to the headboard and you purred in delight.

“Darling~ I’ve been such a good girl right?” You asked coyly, legs already spread and showing him your throbbing pussy, anticipating his thick and long cock fucking you stupid.

Tartaglia didn’t answer before leaving the room with agitation, you spotted his cock straining against his pants and grinned.

You were getting fucked today up until the next day. You smiled pleased at the outcome of the brainstorming you had with your friends. You were so caught up in the euphoria of your apparent success that you forgot who your opponent was. Tartaglia was a trained soldier, a genius in the battlefield and a Harbinger.

He also had the additional boon of knowing you.

Which meant that from the moment you had shown up wearing the virgin killing sweater, he knew that you were planning something. He wasn’t the type to fall for the same trick twice, you wearing the sweater that made both of you graduate from being virgins wouldn’t have the same effect on him again.

Yes, it still drove him mad but compared to the first time you had used it, Tartaglia could keep his wits with him.

So your plan of using a sex potion laced lunch fell through. Tartaglia was sure that he knew what you were planning and decided to use it for his own agenda. A quick survey of the kitchen and he was able to easily deduce where you hid the remaining stash of the potion.

He grinned once he found it and quickly made his way back to you. He whistled at the sight of you, acting like you were in heat. You fluttered your lashes at him and he grinned at you wolfishly.

“I trust that you can recognize this?” He asked as his right hand shook the bottle filled with pink liquid while his left hand deftly unbuckled his pants.

“...Oh” You gulped realizing that you were now playing in the palm of Tartaglia’s hands.

His grin grew sharp, the sight of it sending your pussy throbbing as you bit your lip in anticipation.

“Look at you, being a slut. Is my cock all you can think about?” He teased as his left hand began rubbing his dick, precum dribbling out of his head.

“I also think about your abs and your mouth” You replied, while your eyes stared at his cock, tongue peaking out of your mouth.

He wipes off his precum with his fingers and slowly wiped it on the folds of your pussy, you moaned, moving your hips up to rub against his fingers until they slipped in.

“Hngg!”

His fingers make a quick work out of you, slipping in and out, building a rhythm that had you moaning loudly, until the sound of your pussy’s squelch echoed loudly in the apartment. Your eyes were closed from the pleasure of his calloused fingers rubbing your walls, making you clench and pulsate.

“Cock-Tartagli-a” Your voice shook as you began to beg, “I need your cock inside--!”

You came loudly as his fingers curled and you squirted while his fingers didn’t stop moving inside you. Tartaglia’s fingers were drenched with your juice when he removed it from your pussy, the sheets were drenched with your squirt and you lay limply on the bed.

The top of your sweater were bunched in the middle of your breast, exposing your erect nipples to the cold air and Tartaglia’s hungry eyes. He brought the bottle on top of your twitching pussy, smiled at you and said,

“Congratulations, my beloved slut, you’ll finally be my cumdump today~”

You stared blankly as you watched him open the bottle, spreading your pussy lips and dumping the entire content of the aphrodisiac into your pussy. You struggled once you felt the foreign intrusion of the bottle’s neck, its effect was instantaneous, your protest turned into a moan as you felt your mind become clouded with pleasure.

Tartaglia watched with fascination as he saw your panic melt into euphoria, the look in your eyes was lustful and wanton as you began to loudly beg for his cock. Tears dripping from your face when he only slipped in his fingers,

“Nooo~!” You cried “Cock! I want your cock!”

Your tearful begging was all it took for him to stop teasing you and thrusting his cock inside you. There was no resistance at all from your pussy, his head went inside smoothly, hitting you all the way to your wall, you moaned in pleasure, legs automatically clamping around his waist.

Tartaglia groaned at the wonderful feeling of your heat, a night of not having your pussy warm his cock was enough to drive him insane. He was a fool to not have slept with you last night.

He kissed you fervently, drowning your moans and lustful cries while his hips moved, thrusting his cock back and forth inside your wet and hot pussy. His bare chest rubbed your sensitive nipples as his body rocked back and forth in time with his hips.

“I love you” He whispered in your ears over and over again as he fucked you senseless, like a beast while you clawed at his back, mouth drooling and eyes rolled back from the pleasure.

The aphrodisiac was affecting you both, fucking frenzily to reach new heights of pleasure. Tartaglia came inside you again and again, even so his dick didn’t turn flaccid remaining hard even after multiple orgasm until your pussy felt raw.

Adrenaline rushing to your veins made you not care, you only cared about two things, Tartaglia and his cock. Your pussy was filled to the brim, abused with Tartaglia’s thick cock that repeatedly dumped his cum on your loose pussy.

Time passed but the sounds of sex didn’t stop as day turned into night.His coat was torn and your clothes turned into rags, Tartaglia had changed your position, fucking your from behind, with your ass up, thick ropes of cum, dried and drying covered your ass and back, some of it dripping from your pussy, others coating your legs and face.

He had truly turned you into his cum dump.

“Such a good slut!” Tartaglia praised as he thrusted into you, his cock pushing out his old cum from your pussy, “so good for me!”

His praise made you so happy, your back arching to give him a better angle. You clenched on his cock as he came again, milking him of his cum.

Tartaglia slipped his cock out, shushing you gently when you whined from the empty feeling. He observed your pussy, your whole was loose enough that he could see how much cum was inside you, your clit and labias were covered with dripping cum, your asshole twitching and overflowing with his earlier cum.

He smiled, “ Looks like you can easily take my cock in foul legacy form”

“No-no! It’s too big!” You cried out in panic, covering your pussy.

Your fearful eyes, hiding the lust behind it made him hornier. He smiled and transformed.

You watched with your own eyes as he donned his armor, eyes staring at his cock that grew larger before it was covered by leather. You gulped.

‘Was that a knot?’ you thought as you felt your pussy grow wetter.

“I promise I’ll be gentle”

His monstrous cock was before your eyes, it made your mouth water and then he began with fucking your mouth. You felt him reach all the way back until he hit your throat, pleasure and pain mixing together as you tried not to gagged as he used your mouth. His cock was huge and thick, veins throbbing as you did your best to blow him.

You cried as you weakly clung to his clothes, slowly losing your mind to the pleasure. He came inside your mouth, cum pouring down your throat as he gently pulled out, you closed your eyes and tried to gather the excess that dribbled from your mouth to your palm.

“Swallow it” He ordered and you happily, greedily obeyed.

Even the cum on your hand was drunk, it was thick and delicious, sweet. You opened your mouth, tongue hanging out for him to see your obedience.

His clawed hands gently ruffled your head, the pointed tips scratching your head and awakening something in you.

“Now take my cock” He said as he lifted you up and then plunged your pussy to his erection.

You moaned loudly, your stomach bulging out from his cock.

“Too much~” You cried, even as you began to move your hips, “you’re too big! I-it won’t fit inside!”

You moaned as his clawed hands helped you move up and down, making your breasts jiggle with each motion as you begged for mercy even though your body was honestly enjoying his cock.

He slipped his cock outside of your pussy, rubbing your cum covered clit and reaching all the way to your cum drenched tits.

“Nooo! Don’t take it out!” You begged in tears.

It was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Reason was thrown out of the window and he mounted you, pushing his cock all the way in, a miracle, that had you crying out in pleasure as he fucked you raw.

His old cum was pushed out with each thrust, clawed hands pressing on your back and holding your hips like you were a living fleshlight. Your lewd voice begging him for more as he ripped away the rest of your torn clothes.

He reached out for him, drawing him close until his mask opened and a long pointed tongue came out and entangled with yours. You made out with Foul Legacy as cock fucked your pussy raw, scraping out the cum until you came over and over again. Your thighs were drenched again, the bed shaking enough for the headboard to bang against the wall loudly.

Between your numerous orgasms you passed out just as he came inside you, flooding your womb and pussy with his cum, most of it ending up on the sheets and dripping down your pussy. He pulled out and began to fuck your thighs, bedframe creaking from the sheer force of his thrust until it broke as he spurted out and covered your entire body with his cum.

He panted heavily, engraving in his mind your blissed out expressions when you fainted from the pleasure.

‘Tomorrow, we’ll talk about your reaction when you first saw me,’ He thought as he gently lifted you up from the broken bed and made his way to the living area ‘but for now I need to get all of this out of our system.’

You woke up the next morning, face down on the table as you felt your body rocking.

“Good morning, love”

Tartaglia’s voice came from behind as you arched your back and moaned from having a dick thrusted into your sore pussy.

“Ngh!”

You turned around and found yourself staring at Tartaglia’s maskless Foul Legacy form, his eyes were slanted, and hair spiked up in soft waves.

He laughed at you softly, “Have you fallen for me again?”

“Darling~ You’ve ruined me for everyone else!” You cried as you let him see how much he affected you.

He grinned and you moaned in pleasure, when his head hit your g-spot.

“We broke the bed, so the table would have to do” He explained as he began to fuck you over the table, you were too lost in the pleasure to hear his explanation.

But he was in the same predicament as well, all thoughts of talking were gone, the moment he began fucking you as he slept. At this point, the entire apartment reeked of sex and yet neither of you remembered or cared.

Other things could wait.

[seita]

— live now: redlove | eijirou kirishima (m.)

pairing: eijirou kirishima/reader ft. katsuki bakugou.

genre: fluff, smut, pwp

wordcount: 𝟷𝟼𝟹𝟽

cw: cam couple!au, prohero!bakugou, established relationship

tags: voyeurism (bakugou’s pov), dirty talk, masturbation, humilation/degredation, begging, light praise, rough sex, doggy style, choking, hair pulling, light spanking, baku has a crush

note: i have no excuses for this lmao. i was originally gonna make this into a fic where bakugou joins u nd kiri but,,,i kind of want to make this like a series or something????

—  bakugou enjoys porn. especially live cam porn. he discovers the cam couple redlove and is immediately smitten.

blog navigation.

 next. the lottery: redlove ⇨

© all content belongs to seita 2020. do not modify or repost.    

Bakugou watched porn. Just like every other guy on the planet. He enjoyed it, especially since as a pro-hero, he didn’t have the opportunity to get into sustainable relationships. He was the #2 hero so finding himself someone who wanted him because he was Katsuki Bakugou and not Ground Zero was near impossible. 

So, he turned to porn. Sounds sad now that he thought about it but truthfully, he never thought twice about it. It was just the way things were. 

More specifically, he had an interest in cam porn. The live stream kind. He couldn’t quite pinpoint why that was ― there was just something alluring about watching porn live. 

Usually, he stuck to solo girl content, every once in a while he’d venture to the male side. It was only recently, however, that he discovered the booming community of couples cams. 

Watching couples have sex live was even more enticing than watching men and woman masturbate or watching amateur porn. It seemed so intimate, watching these couples together. Almost forbidden. 

And he was sure that was exactly what made him cum so hard every single time. He liked watching these couples have sex, feeling like he was seeing something he wasn’t supposed to.

Many times, he’d stroke his cock to the idea of being humiliated by a couple as he watched them together. Filthy thoughts and words filtered into his mind, his eyes closed as he panted to the idea. They’d call him disgusting, a pig for getting hard watching ―  how only a slut would act as lewd as he did. Maybe they’d shame him; #2 pro hero Ground Zero a pathetic whore. 

It wasn’t until one night, he laid in bed browsing the couple’s livestreams on his favorite website, he discovered one couple that immediately caught his eye. The thumbnail showed a redheaded guy with spiky hair sitting on the edge of the bed with a pretty girl with marvelously smooth skin sat behind him with her arms wrapped around his shoulders. The young man’s hair color must have been the inspiration behind their channel name: redlove. He could only assume they had just started the stream and were looking at comments when the picture set. 

The stream was titled “We had a long day”. Bakugou couldn’t help but scoff at such a title, it was hardly enticing. Most streams had things like ‘watch me squirt until i cry!!!’ or “he makes my pussy hurt so good” or some other cringy shit. He would have been tempted to scroll past but he couldn’t deny just how attractive the couple was. Not to say there weren’t attractive people doing cam porn, no he’d seen his fair share of beautiful women and handsome men. 

But redlove were stunning together. They looked like a perfect match, he could tell just by how you were holding him that just oozed affection for the redhead. 

Another thing that caught the blonde’s eye was the view count: most cammers had in the double digits ― 20 or 30 viewers. Every once in a while he’d catch a particularly popular cammer and see a few hundred but it had never exceeded 200. So the live view count, the number of people watching them at that exact moment, was currently displayed on redlove’s stream link had him baffled.

Edging on 800 viewers. Sitting at 782.

It was clear the two of you were immensely popular. There had to be a good reason. 

Curious and thoroughly intrigued, he tapped the screen of his phone to get into their stream. 

It took a moment to buffer, all the activity with the chat making it lag a bit. When it finally finished loading, Bakugou felt like the air had been punched out of his lungs. His cock was immediately hard, straining against his boxers.

It was clear the two of you had been streaming for a while, judging by the fucked out blissful look on your face. Sweat glistened on your skin in the illuminating light of your bedroom.

You were on your hands and knees, your redheaded boyfriend on his knees behind you on a messed up bed, a pillow nearby that Bakugou assumed had been used to prop your hips up at one point. Your hair was wrapped tightly in his fist, using it for leverage as he hammered his cock into what Bakugou could only imagine was an absolutely dripping wet cunt. 

The sounds you made were downright sinful, your lips swollen from no doubt kissing and biting. The redhead grunted suddenly, jerking you up onto your knees so your back was pressed against his chest. Bakugou couldn’t resist reaching down to palm his aching cock, throbbing and painful from neglect. 

Your boyfriend groaned, glancing at the camera, “Everyone’s got a good view of your little cunt now, huh?” he growled moving his grip from your hair to your throat, “You like that, I can feel you squeezing me at the thought of all these people watching your pussy stretch on my cock. You’re stuffed so fuckin’ full you can barely stand it, isn’t that right?”

Bakugou couldn’t tear his eyes away from the scene. The4 dominance the redhead exuded rivaled his own and the way you so easily fell submissively to him was beautiful. There was so much trust in you ― knowing your boyfriend would take good care of you. Bakugou’s heart ached ever so slightly at the idea ― it was clear your relationship was a good one. It was something the pro hero would never hope to have himself.

You didn’t respond, your eyes rolling back in your head before closing. Your mouth was open, no sounds escaping due to the tight grip the redhead had on your throat. Your head rolled back to rest on his shoulder, legs spread to let him fuck your hole with everything he had. Your weight was braced completely on him, your partner dutifully supporting your body as you let him have his way.

With his free hand, he palmed your breast, pinching your nipple harshly to make you keen. Bakugou felt his cock throb at the sound. It was so whiny, pathetic. You were so completely submissive and at the mercy of your boyfriend. And you were loving every second of it. 

Bakugou couldn’t deny he enjoyed witnessing it himself.

Your cunt was stretched wide, the HD camera giving spectacular quality to the way your juices dripped down the length plunging into your body. It dripped off of his balls and down your thighs. So fucking messy. 

The redhead’s cock was big, something Bakugou himself could even feel envious of despite his own well-endowed size. Your cunt was tight, no doubt requiring a good amount of preparation to take him. He wondered if you enjoyed the stinging burn of pain when you took the cock. The blonde made a mental note to check out your part streams later.

“Gonna...gonna cum,” you gasped, warning your boyfriend. 

He scoffed, sounding annoyed, “Do it then. I don’t give a shit.”

“Please, can’t!” you sobbed, finally opening your eyes to look up at him. He wore a cocky grin, knowing your pleasure laid in his hands. 

“Why?” he teased, abandoning his hold on your breast to travel down the soft skin of your stomach, pausing right above where you needed him, “You need me to touch your little clit, hm? Is that what it is?” 

You nodded desperately, grinding your hips down every time he sunk his cock into you, hoping to get more than you were being given, “Please!”

“Alright,” he sighed, pressing a kiss against your temple. The gesture was oddly soft and intimate in comparison to the harsh, punishing pace of his cock, “You had a long day. I’ll be nice. You better thank me for making this greedy little cunt cum.”

Finally, his fingers reached your swollen clit. A couple practiced circles over the bud had you tumbling over the edge. Bakugou gripped his cock through the material of his boxers as he watched you tremble and moan as the redhead fucked you through the high. 

Letting out a sob at the overstimulation when your boyfriend still didn’t stop when you came down, you choked out, “Th-Thank you!”

“Good girl,” your boyfriend grinned, letting you fall back into your original position with your face buried in the blankets. The redhead tossed his head back, gripping your hips as he fucked into you, chasing his own orgasm. He laid a few harsh slaps against your ass, making you whimper, flinching at the impact but not running from it. Bakugou could hear the sharp sound of his hand making contact with your skin. Now that you had cum, the redhead let himself go. 

And he did. Your boyfriend let out a groan of pleasure, announcing his release. He didn’t pull out, pouring his hot cum into your overstimulated cunt.

Bakugou’s cock throbbed once, twice before he was spilling a load of hot cum into his boxers. The white cum oozed through the fibers as his thighs trembled.

When he came back to himself, he looked at the screen to find you had curled up on your side with a dreamy smile aimed at your boyfriend, Bakugou couldn’t help but smile at the screen at how cute you looked. He moved towards the camera with a grin, having already pulled out.

“Thanks for watchin’!” that was all he said before the screen went dark and bold white letters flashed over the screen that said ‘this stream has ended.’

Bakugou’s attention moved to the chat, checking to see what was being talked about. 

The comment that caught his eye was, “Eijirou and ______ are literally the power couple of porn.”

Bakugou sighed. Eijirou and ______. 

The names of his new favorite cam couple. 

[inkedtae]

boogie business ⇾ myg, kth. [M]

𝓅𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 ⇾ ceo!taehyung x curvy!reader (f.) x ceo!yoongi

𝑔𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒/𝓇𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 ⇾ 80s au, smut, pwp, filth, poly au, 18+

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ⇾ after making an executive decision without the consensus approval of your co-partners, they generously show you how it’s done in the boogie business.

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ⇾ 8.9k

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ⇾ dom!taehyung, blonde mullet!taehyung, switch!yoongi, undercut!yoongi, sub!reader, mentions of smoking (cigarettes), rough sex, public sex, ddlg kink, humilition kink, size kink, tongue kink, threesome, overstimulation, degradation, double penatration, exhibitionism, voyeurism, multiple orgasms, oral (m. and f. receiving), deep throating, cockwarming, fingering (with big rings), choking, body worshipping, clit biting, spanking, teasing, begging, rimming, light bondage, anal, ass play, spit play, breath play, breast play

𝒶𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇'𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒 ⇾ this is the thirsting result of the dynamite teaser and yoongi posting selfies only half an hour later… enjoy!

✼ banner by ⇾ @namluve (thank you so so so much hunbun~ // requested through bangtanhq’s request board) 

✼ beta’d by ⇾ @uhgood-dooghu​ (thank you a bunch dear~) and  @kkulmoon (you’re a champ for putting up with my thirsty ass lmao~)

✼ le playlist

Working late, you sit in your office. The neon glow of the downtown’s nightlife seeps into the room in hues of green and pink. The candy green cassette plays soft pop. Your white calf high, rubber boots tap along to the beat. Smacking your mint gum, you scribble notes about the demo in your little notepad. Owning a record company is hard, especially when you have two co-partners that cannot seem to agree with you on anything. However, it’s moments like this, moments you have alone with just the music that keep you grounded. You glance up at the glass walls that give you a full view of the empty office. With everyone long gone, you have the whole office to yourself too. It’s just the peaceful space you need to collect your thoughts before you really need to get to work. Humming along to the rhythm, you wonder what song this is. Maybe you can pick something like it on your way home. Though, you doubt you’ll be able to find it now. 

A loud creak halts your writing. Trailing your gaze upwards, you find your business partners standing in the doorway. You’ve been expecting them, but you haven’t counted on them looking this good. The taller one, in a sleek emerald suit and swept blonde hair, leans against the frame. His uneven eyes already cloud with lust. The other one, sporting an undercut pushed up by a headband and a grey suit, tips his yellow tinted sunglasses down to get a better look at you. He smirks then bites his lip as if to keep from chuckling. 

You flash them both a sarcastically sweet smile. “Now, now boys,” you mockingly pout. “You can do better than that. Why don’t you shut the door and try it again, with a little knock this time?”

Mr. Kim is not amused. He tenses his jaw. Mr. Min raises a brow, intrigued and impressed that you have the courage to speak to them with such acerbity. 

Licking his lips, Mr. Kim pushes himself off the doorframe and steps around Mr. Min. “That’s cute,” he seethes through a taunting smirk. Already you feel your blossom pink thong wettening, sticking to your folds. His voice is so deep, reaching low enough to make the pit of your stomach tingle. He rests his palms on the edge of your desk and leans forward. You sit back in your chair, all smiles and feigned sweetness falling from your features. “You think you can tell us what to do, hmm? Little girl has her own office and suddenly thinks she owns the place.” 

Mr. Min makes himself comfortable in one of your armchairs before your desk. He props his feet up on the table and lights himself a cigarette. “She just doesn’t understand the business yet, Taehyung,” he mumbles after a puff. 

You drag your gaze from Mr. Min to Taehyung, slightly lowering your chin to gaze at him through your lashes. And while Mr. Min finds it amusing, Taehyung is still unconvinced. He cups your face, thumb over your freshly pink glossed lips. “I’m not quite sure that’s how she works, Yoongi.”

“Have a seat,” Yoongi tells him. “And let’s try to get to the bottom of this.” 

Taehyung is reluctant to walk away. He pauses, stares, calculates. The corner of your lips twitch. Humming a low growl, he lets go of your chin and stands to his full height. You cannot help but stare up at him with a careful degree of innocence, then glancing at Yoongi shyly. Taehyung bites his lip and back peddles until he reaches the other armchair to take a seat. 

Gaze bouncing all over your torso, Yoongi rubs his chin. “All you have to do is find the next star,” he starts before taking another puff of smoke and passing the cigarette to Taehyung. “Is that not what we told you when we signed off the contracts for the merger? Do you remember what we told you?”

You nod. 

“Tell me,” he lazily orders. 

Though lacking depth, Yoongi’s voice is raspy, scratching at that uncharted terrority of lust within your soul. So tiresome, so unbothered, his orders still manage to ripple through you, pooling your core with a fresh dose of arousal. Gulping, you repeat their words in a squeak, “You find the voices; we’ll handle the music.”

Taehyung chuckles, a cloud of smoke breaking through his lips. But his vocal additions to the conversation start and end there. His eyes continue to speak for him instead. With a hard glare, he chews on his bottom lip and quickly quirks his brows. You cross your legs under the desk to relieve some tension, but it only makes you crave them even more. 

“You’re such a good listener, darling,” Yoongi praises with a gummy smirk. “See?” He glances at Taehyung before redirecting his attention to you. “This is why I’m so confused. You listen so well but you still misbehave. Is it something we did, maybe something we said that made you think you can approve demos?” 

Squirming in your seat, you pout at him. His once cold stare warms up a bit at the sight. His heart melts at submission, you realize. Sparing a glance at Taehyung, you find that he does not respond the same way. But, maybe some neglect of attention his way might get him to warm up to you a bit. Pushing your chair back, you stand up and circle around your desk to lean on the edge of it. The smack, smack, smack of your gum piques their interest, but it’s the tight pink, white, and pale green striped dress that captivates them. Their cocky defences fall upon it’s reveal, hungry eyes dancing around your curves. Taehyung almost drops the cigarette, quick to smudge it out in the ashtray and keep his hands free. 

Resting your hands back against your desk, you arch your chest out and innocently explain, “I thought it was great. The artist asked for my opinion and as an equal member of the company, I approved of it. I don’t see why that’s such an issue. I wouldn’t be so upset if you found an artist even though it may be my job.”

The sweetness of your voice snaps them back into their roles. They share a knowing look before Taehyung rises from his seat. His eyes linger on how your ass sits on the edge of the desk, on the way the tabletop pushes it up and elevates its thickness. Meeting your gaze once more, he unbuttons his vest and smirks. “You really don’t understand the boogie business, do you, babygirl?” He whispers, one hand resting on your waist while the other cups your cheek.

Chest suddenly heaving, you find it hard to breath. So wet, you can feel the stickiness of your arousal slick on your thighs as you press them together. His gaze is so intense, you cannot hold it for long. Instead, you look to Yoongi. He has his hand over his crotch and tongues his cheek at you. 

Taehyung nudges you back to him then kisses you. You lean into it without much thought or protest. Yoongi chuckles somewhere beside you, his callous fingers playing with the wavy hem of your dress. He pulls it up as Taehyung slips his tongue in. Playing around, Taehyung is quick to show you who’s in charge. He attacks your tongue only to stroke it with his own. 

Breaking the kiss, he starts to chew on your piece of gum. “Mm, minty,” he notes with a wink. 

“Oh?” Yoongi asks before replacing Taehyung’s hand on your chin with his own and directing your face towards him. Before you can even react, he presses his lips onto yours. He’s just as needy, but a bit more tamed. He gives you an opportunity to play with his tongue first before taking the plunge. 

You moan into Yoongi’s mouth and Taehyung’s grip on your waist tightens at the sound. You break the kiss to look over at him. Yoongi does not seem too bothered with that fact, trailing kisses down from your jaw to your neck. His hands seem to keep busy too, one resting on the small of your back while the other cups your right breast, the one closest to him. 

Tangling his fingers in your perfectly styled hair, Taehyung pulls you in for another wet kiss. That piece of gum bounces between your mouths, doused in your saliva before he takes it once more and pulls away. Your chin drips with strings of saliva, eyes already half lidded from the mere implication of what the two of them can do to you. If you had known this is what was in store, you would’ve signed that contract sooner. 

He’s supposed to say something now, but instead he just loosens his red and green striped tie and takes it off. You let out a shaky breath, one that Yoongi picks up on as he stops all his kisses on your collarbone and looks back at Taehyung. He quirks a brow at his business partner, but Taehyung does not spare him a glance. “Hold her hands back,” he orders instead. 

“But-”

“Now.”

You look between the two of them. Taehyung regards you with feral desire, but Yoongi is more curious, and hesitant to follow Taehyung’s instructions. But the bark in his tone does not leave anymore room for an argument. So Yoongi caves, guiding you up off the edge of the desk and holding your hands back. And though you’re supposed to look nervous, you cannot hide your excitement. Little smile playing on your lips and eyes lighting up with intrigue, you hold Taehyung’s cold stare. You assume that’s another reason why Yoongi eventually caved. Both men know you’re eager to see what all this boogie business really is about. 

Taehyung raises a brow, gaze drifting down your frame for a second. “No, wait,” he pauses and Yoongi instantly lets go of you. Smirking, Taehyung hands Yoongi his tie then presses his body against yours. His erection, hard and bulging, cannot be ignored. He rubs it against your stomach for a second as his fingers trail the hem of your dress. Pursing his lips, Taehyung spits on your cleavage. You gasp, leaning into him. The action surprises both men, but they must know that you had no control. It was reactive. He spits and you give in. You probably would’ve done the same if Yoongi had spit on you too. 

As if reading your thoughts, Yoongi steps forward and tests the theory out. He spits in your face and you find yourself moaning, leaning in for a kiss only to have him nudge your chin towards Taehyung. All three of you snap back into the moment with that redirection. 

“You’ve spoiled your dress, babygirl,” he tsks, feigning concern. “Let us help you out of it.” 

Yoongi grips onto the edge of your dress while Taehyung rests his hands on your thick thighs. And as your older partner pulls your dress off you, the younger one slides his hands up, following every curve and dip of your body to your fingertips. He then brings your hands down and has Yoongi tie them tightly behind you. All you can do is gawk up at Taehyung as he towers over you. 

He misinterprets the gesture, or you at least think that he must have, since he purses his lips once more and drops a wad of spit in your mouth. Your eyes flutter close upon tasting the warm, minty liquid then you swallow. Previously stone faced, Taehyung finds your reaction so amusing that he chuckles and calls Yoongi over. 

“Spit in her mouth,” he laughs, once Yoongi circles from behind you. Taehyung’s eyes sparkle with excitement while Yoongi raises a brow. 

After thumbing your chin to open your mouth, Yoongi spits in it. Your reaction is the same only this time you savour the taste a bit more. Taehyung may have that gum to chew away the remnants of the cigarette, but Yoongi doesn’t. His spit tastes a bit charred, like it had been smoked. And, for some reason, you feel the need to savour it more. This is not what was planned at all, but they must like seeing you like this. You like seeing them like this. You open your mouth again, turning to Taehyung. The action is obvious. He knows you want another taste of his tongue, but he doesn’t give it to you. Instead, he sticks to what he’s supposed to be doing; punishing you. 

Yoongi tosses your dress somewhere in your office, distracted by the way your thong disappears between your cheeks. He tugs at the hem to find it as Taehyung kisses his way from your neck to the valley of your breasts. You’re not sure what to do even though you’ve been in this situation often. These men are different. Taehyung takes what he wants. He’s impulsive and instant. Yoongi adores dotting on you. The only thing he takes is his time. He’s patient and calculative. Shifting behind you, he nuzzles his nose through your hair and against the nape of your neck. They inhale your cherry lime scent in tandem, making you shiver with lust. 

Their cohesive force only starts there. The moment Taehyung cups your bare breasts, Yoongi does the same to your revealed asscheeks. Slap, clap, slap, clap, they alternate sides but the result is consistent. Your ass and tits jiggle with each hit, moans tumbling out of you. What have you done to be trapped in such a heavenly position? The thought almost troubleshoots your words back to you. 

“That hurts, daddy,” you pout. 

It doesn’t. Not too much anyway. But the complaint sparks something even darker within them. Taehyung lifts his face from between your breasts, sharing a sinister smile with Yoongi. “We hear you,” he smirks at you, groping your breasts like he owns you. “But we’re going to hit you harder anyways.”

“Sound familiar?” Yoongi questions in a whisper, lips pressed against your ear.

You’re supposed to reply, but they both seem to be eager to continue this punishment, cutting your words out again with more smacks. The stings ignite ripples of excited nerves to your core. The space between your legs is sticky, tacky, and sopping with your arousal. You don’t need to see it or reach a hand down to know that’s the case. Every hit sends a new rush of juices, coating your thighs with your horniness too. Clenching your fists, you try to resist the urge to stop Yoongi’s hand or fight against the silk tie. 

Taehyung growls, so fascinated by the way your tits bounce with each smack. He dives his face back between them, teeth out and attacking while his tongue soothes the little bite wounds. Groping your breasts, he rubs the pain he caused away. Whining, you gaze down at him. He’s all too focused to look back up at you, but just watching him nibble on your skin then lick over it has your pussy clenching, tightening for that kind of attention too. 

The hesitance lingers behind you. Yoongi is having trouble focusing on the punishment, wanting to ravish you as well. After one last smack, and a loud moan from you, he allows himself to get lost in the way your ass shakes. “What do you have to say for yourself, slut?” He questions on his knees in that rough rasp before his tongue meets your cheeks. 

They both seem to have an affinity for using their tongues. What a warm and wet surprise it is to have it all over you. Digging his fingers into the flesh of your ass, Yoongi pushes your cheeks up and slobbers all over your asshole. His tongue is heavy, moist, and highly skilled in making you scream, as you have already done so thrice from just two laps against your tightest hole.

“I-” You start only for Yoongi to cut you off. 

He groans after accidentally sneaking a taste of your wetness, piquing Taehyung’s interest too. Though he still holds onto your breasts, Taehyung lifts his head and peeks over at Yoongi on his knees behind you. Chuckling, he asks, “Does she taste sorry?”

You nod rapidly, leaning forward towards Taehyung to arch your back and give Yoongi a better grip on your ass. Taehyung smirks at you as he chews on your piece of gum. He looks absolutely sinful, but it’s the way Yoongi drags your arousal to your asshole and pushes his tongue in to ensure less resistance that has your jaw slack and eyes twitching. “Ahh, d-daddy,” you squeal as your knees tremble. 

“I need a better look to know for sure,” Yoongi replies, looking over to Taehyung and ignoring the way you whine at the loss of contact. 

Taehyung nods and nonchalantly suggests that Yoongi might be more comfortable on his back. He then turns back to you and wraps his hands around your neck. You can feel Yoongi pushing your legs apart and making himself comfortable beneath you. But, Taehyung refuses to let you watch his business partner gasp and gape at your drenched, thong covered pussy. He pulses his grip and whispers, “Feel that?” When you rush to nod, he says, “That’s how my cock will feel when it’s deep in there.” 

Holy shit. He’s not supposed to say that. He’s completely taken this entire interaction into his own hands. It’s his show now and both, you and Yoongi, will follow every little thing he wants. That’s clear enough in his eyes. And though you know you can easily call all this off, stop every single hand on you and step away from this, you don’t want to. It’s not at all what you signed up for; it’s better. 

You gasp, eyes watering from the ache of your pathetically needy pussy as Taehyung guides you down on your knees. Your crotch hovers over Yoongi’s face. As Taehyung tightens his hold around your neck, Yoongi brushes the top of his giant ruby jeweled ring between your clothed folds. You shutter through a dry sob. They’ve barely done a thing and you’re coming apart. You can cum in this very moment. The image of Taehyung towering over you, his concealed cock inches from your face, and Yoongi laid out under you, rings teasing, is ecstasy enough. 

“Beg a little.”

Taehyung’s orders are always so cryptic. Yoongi’s are blunt, straight to the point and sting far worse than any of their spankings have. But Taehyung enjoys making you search for the answer. He loves watching your gaze shift as you wonder who to beg to first. You want that ring to stretch you just as badly as you want Taehyung’s cock to alienate your throat. Chewing on your lip, you glance down at Yoongi, who merely raises his brows. If he’s growing impatient, you worry that Taehyung’s patience might be nonexistent now. 

Feeling him readjust his grip, most likely to cut your breath off for your defiance, you’re quick to plead, “Please just fucking ruin me, Daddys. Ple-” 

Yoongi shoves his fingers in and you find that you’ve miscalculated. It wasn’t one ring, but two. Three fingers, two rings and one fast pace of destruction as Yoongi holds your thong aside with his free hand. Mouth falling open, you scream from the sweet stretch. If they hadn’t made you this wet, that first pluge would’ve shocked your body still with pain. But, with the amount of arousal they’ve coaxed out of you, it all slides in so easily. 

Taehyung takes your wide gaping lips as an invitation in. While you’re distracted with the way those rings brush up so perfectly against your tight walls, he pulls out his cock and slips it into your mouth. Crossing your eyes down on his cock, you moan around him. Less than a quarter of him is in you, but he’s still so thick, so heavy, so fucking big. Your jaw’s straining, on the verge of aching from the sheer weight of him. And he’s so fucking veiny. Is Yoongi this veiny too? This fucking huge? 

Hypnotized by the sight of Taehyung’s cock and the waves of pleasure from Yoongi’s rings, you fall out of your role. They both had verged off their goal of punishing you. Why should you continue to act like this is terrible when it’s all you’ve dreamed of. Hips rolling into Yoongi’s long fingers, you relax your throat and snap your gaze up to Taehyung. He sees something different swimming in your eyes. No more does that innocent act exist. If they want to flex their years of experience, then so will you. 

Before he can react, you take him all in one go and hold him there. You gag, moan, and drool, saliva falling over Yoongi’s forehead, making him groan. Taehyung furrows his brows, lips in a scowl. He looks completely at your mercy. His board chest heaves at the sight of you so fucking compliate and eager to please. In the same rhythm Taehyung pressed around your neck, his cock pulses in your throat. It makes you cry, quite shamelessly, but it is not what makes you whine. 

“Oh, is that what you are?” Taehyung questions. “A fucking cocksleeve? Babygirl wants her daddys to use her, hmm?”

Is that really the impression you’re giving? You barely even had to play into it. These men really brought out your most feral, unbounded side and let you run wild. And within what, the first ten minutes? This is not how it’s supposed to go. You’re supposed to talk more, flirt, establish a base to build off of before any dicks and tits are whipped out. And even as you are thinking all this, you cannot refuse the sexual call these two hold on your very body. It’s almost as if you were made for this kind of praise and attention from Taehyung and Yoongi only, no one else. They each reach a different side of you that you have not even discovered yet. 

You nod your head slightly in response to Taehyung’s questions. He smirks down at you as if allowing you to be used as such, as the cocksleeve you so proudly are. 

Though, your reign of pride ends there. Mewling desperately, your eyes widen as Yoongi pulls his fingers out, almost losing his rings from your tightness in the process. Ignoring your muffled protests against his decision, he barks, “Sit the fuck down, babygirl.” 

You cannot resist that order, let alone his voice. Instantly, you drop your pussy down on his face. Very little care and grace greets that action, but you are confident that he will find his way through. And he does. With your panties already pushed aside, Yoongi slurps up your juices within seconds of your land. He gruffs and grunts and you’re worried that you might be suffocating him until you feel him hold your thighs down on him like he wants you to do so, to take all the air out of him and replace his life source with your arousal instead. 

He’s a beast down there, but that doesn’t allow you to forget that you have a beast lodged down your throat too. While Yoongi is drowning in your pussy, you’re choking on Taehyung’s cock. Warming his length in your mouth has teased him enough, it would seem, as he flares his nostrils and glares down at you. He wants to be upset, wants to be furious, yet his eyes tell a different story. Pupils dilated and gaze soft, all you can see is a needy, desperate daddy in need of some release. 

And who the fuck are you to deny him that? 

Pulling him out, you leave his tip resting on your lips as you huff for air through your nose. You moan and whine at Yoongi’s ministrations below, rolling your hips into his mouth, then open up your own when you see Taehyung sneering at you. “Did Daddy tell you to stop?” He hisses. 

Was that rhetorical? You suppose it must have been since he rams his cock back in your mouth, denying you the opportunity to answer. This may be seen as a disadvantage if he wasn’t doing what he knows you want him to, if he wasn’t using your mouth like his personal cocksleeve. 

You hold your breath. In and out goes his cock, hips jolting with every moan of yours that vibrates around him. You’re being dined while dining. Is this always how the boogie business goes? If so, you have no problem getting down with it. 

“Yoongi, she’s so adaptable,” Taehyung groans over your gagging whines. “So eager to learn and please.” 

Mouth full of pussy, Yoongi mutters something against your folds and Taehyung chuckles, agreeing. The sight might have been more amusing to you if that little ripple of vibration from Yoongi’s response with his tongue darting in and out of you hadn’t taken you over the edge. Fighting against Taehyung’s grip on your hair, you try your best to pull him out of your mouth before you completely fall apart. 

Taehyung’s still deep in you. Yoongi holds you in place. You are trapped and cumming while choking on moans, gags, whines, and a monster cock. Body shaking, you try to loosen your tied hands from their place behind you. All you need is a moment to ground yourself and try not to pass out from the mere wave of ecstasy that overwhelms you. With your head tilted back, Taehyung rams into your throat, unbarred and unleashed. Yoongi slurps you down below all the while. Your tears are boundless, streaming down your face. Both men hold very little remorse for the waves of pleasure they caused you. 

“Babygirl is cumming,” Taehyung laughs, cooing down at you. Of course, it’s all while he’s thrusting in your mouth like the true toy you are.

“So sweet,” Yoongi seems to mumble. “So cute.”

He shakes his face between your legs as you grind down against him. You’re so eager to ride out this orgasm… until you’re not. Like a switch the pleasure flashed into hints of pain. Too much is the constant attack on your clit, the intrusion of your pussy. Too much is the warmth of his wet mouth. Too much is his tongue technology. You understand why they call him that now. There really isn’t anything that tongue can’t do, especially you. 

Petting your hair back, Taehyung could have easily given the impression that he’s gentle. But his cock is jerking into you at an ungodly speed. “So precious,” he smiles, smacking that piece of gum like he did your tits. 

There’s something in his tone though. Or maybe it’s the overstimulation of Yoongi’s tongue. Either way, you’re sobbing. Moans and cries escape you from the overwhelming pleasure and Taehyung suddenly breaks this Daddy character, and pulls his cock out. Yoongi halts all movements as well. He tires to lift you off him, but you only seem to want to grind further into his mouth, even if it means more blissful pleasure. 

You heave freely with Taehyung’s cock now vancat from your throat and cry to your heart's content. “Daddy, daddy, daddy,” you whine with every circle of your hips. 

Both men understand the cause now, and neither are pleased. Taehyung grasps onto your neck, digging his fingers in. Yoongi grazes his teeth on your clit, nibbling on it instead of sucking. You scream. Your once rolling eyes shoot open at the harsh actions. Taehyung lifts you up from his grip on your throat. You’re having trouble staying upright. Still, Yoongi slips out from underneath you. He wraps his arm around your waist and to keep you steady, telling Taehyung, “Get down there. She’s a fucking treat.” 

Taehyung smirks, admiring the way you have completely smeared Yoongi’s face with your orgasm. He gets on his knees as you whine, “But, it’s too much, Daddy!”

Yoongi tsks. He smacks your ass with one hand and gropes one of your tits with the other. “No, no, babygirl,” he sighs. Up close, you can see every wet sheen of your arousal all over his face. You can smell yourself off him even inches apart. An involuntarily whine escapes you at the sight. Then a louder one fills the room when Taehyung takes a long, slow lap from your entrance to your clit. They’ve only just started. You’re already ruined. 

“Nothing is too much for you, remember?” he asks before pressing his lips to yours. Taehyung goes in for another taste. You whimper. Yoongi spanks. “You took our duties, our jobs. That wasn’t too much for you, was it?” 

Shivering against Taehyung’s face, you nod to Yoongi. “It was! It was!” You cry just to get Taehyung out from under there. His tongue is just as warm and wet. However, his approach to savour every bit of you he tastes just might drive you crazy. You’re not even supposed to give in yet, but he’s already going to make you cum a second time. 

And he feels it. 

“Hmm,” Yoongi hums before nodding. “Maybe bending you over might help make sure the message sticks. What do you think, Tae?”

Taehyung’s too consumed with your pussy to look up at either of you. “Once she cums in my mouth too,” he mutters before feasting on you as well.

All it takes is five good jabs of his tongue in you before your legs are giving out and Yoongi has to cradle you to his chest to keep you standing. Kissing your cock bruised neck, Yoongi asks, “She’s delicious, right?” 

“Fucking juicy,” Taehyung mumbles between slurps. 

Or, at least you think that’s what they’re staying. Cumming twice in a row has you somewhat dizzy. Your ears are full of distortion, voices morphed and distant. Your vision is not any better as your tears only seem to blur it and the rush of ecstasy to your brain fogs your mind. Are you even thinking straight? You don’t think you’d ever know with Taehyung’s tongue still against you. The safe word is on the tip of your tongue but you don’t want to say it. You want them to continue to use you as they please. They’re having so much fun dominating you, playing off each other’s reactions to your body. You cannot end this fun for them, or yourself. This is the best fuck you’ve had since you came into this business and they haven’t even stuffed you with their cocks yet. 

Taehyung suddenly emerges beside Yoongi. The effects of both their tongues are so lasting, it seems as though you can still feel their faces between your legs. Yoongi shushes your little mewls as Taehyung cups your cheek. “See what happens when you have too much on your plate?” He questions. 

You nod but neither one of them acknowledges it. Instead, they get you into the next position. On your knees, Yoongi stands in front of you and Taehyung behind. You bend forward and spread your legs, looking over your shoulder to find Taehyung admiring the view. The sound of Yoongi’s zipper pulls your attention back to the front. His cock springs out and it’s just as enormous as Taehyung’s. Yoongi looks slightly thicker though. 

Mouth watering, you reach forward to wrap your lips around the tip, but Yoongi tugs your head back with a tight grip of your head. “Did you ask?” 

When did he get so cold? You pout and his expression somewhat softens but his point still stands. No, you didn’t ask. But, you hope that the exaggerated innocence in your eyes is enough to grant you what you want without the continuous betrayal of your dignity and power. Why must you always ask? That was never planned. In their eyes though, you know it’s what they both want. And Yoongi has no problem showing you that. 

Taehyung, about to push into you, hesitates for a second. Upon only hearing the demo you approved on the cassette player and not your needy begs, he growls. Your ass jiggles once more with the force of his spanks. “Too busying being a slut, you forgot your manners?” He asks between spanks. 

Yoongi watches your face wince, smirking when he hears you whine. “A good cocksleeve begs to be used,” he adds. “Can’t you do any of your jobs correctly? How long do we need to keep fucking you into your place?”

“As long as it takes until I’m satisfied.” 

Both of them freeze. They never agreed to you being this bratty. You’re supposed to be meek and easy to control. Their dominance brings something else out of you, though. It’s almost as if they’re coaxing you into talking back and when have you ever been able to resist them? 

Taehyung gropes your ass, pushing the supple flesh up. Your breath hitches. Not being able to see the anger in his eyes is chilling. However, Yoongi’s frozen frame is terrifying. You also cannot read his expression for the life of you. Leaving you in suspense seems to be his method of punishment. Taehyung, though, decides that teasing your asshole is even more torturous. 

A breathless gasp escapes you as he spits on your gaping hole. Long fingers swiping through your folds, Taehyung brings your orgasm up to your ass. Staring up at Yoongi, you realize Taehyung’s not teasing you. He’s preparing you. The new conclusion has you spreading your legs even more, inviting him in. 

“Satisfied?” Yoongi asks, finally breaking the thick silence between the three of you. His voice drips with sarcasm. Completely unamused, he leans down and shakes his head, “No, babygirl. Satisfaction is not our goal.” He tugs your hair back, your mouth falling open for a gasp. “Discipline is.” 

The moment Taehyung begins to push his tip into your asshole, Yoongi shoves his cock down your throat. Having seen the challenging look in your eye, Yoongi does not give you any time to adjust. He snaps his hips up into your mouth, your throat walls burning from the forced stretch of his thick girth. Your tears return but you do not care. Gagging and whining, you show him that you’re fine being used. 

Behind you, Taehyung is a bit more considerate… until he realizes there’s little to no resistance around his cock. Your ass adjusts to him a bit slower than usual, but quicker than most others. It’s obvious you’ve been in this position before. You’re not sure if that’s what’s got Taehyung switching the pace of his thrusts or if it’s merely the fact that he thinks you can take a rough fucking, but either way he’s giving you his all. You barely even have to bob your head around Yoongi’s cock now. The force of Taehyung’s body smacking against yours is enough to rock you back and forth. 

“That’s right, you incompetent slut!” He shouts behind you like he’s supposed to. “Suck his fucking cock!”

Yoongi chuckles a bit through raspy moans at his business partner’s words. Moving his hands to his hips, he watches your tearfully innocent eyes as you look up at him and choke on his dick. “She’s so pretty like this,” he smirks between grunts. 

Taehyung rumbles a deep laugh, his thrusts never missing a beat. “Isn’t she?”

Their compliments should put you off. But, you can’t help the swell of pride in your chest. They think you’re pretty on your knees with a mouthful of CEO dick. You cannot argue against that logic, squealing to show them your agreement. 

Everything you do seems to be a source of amusement, even when you’re supposed to be disciplined and punished. You knew they were wrapped around your finger the moment you got up from that chair and walked around your desk. The way they ogled your dress and curves makes you think that they might as well have undressed you there and then. So the fact that they chuckle at your reactions and responses, call you cute, pretty and precious as they fuck both ends, makes you hornier for both of them. You are unable to envision one of them near you without the other around. 

Taehyung twitches inside you. It makes you moan and hollow your cheeks around Yoongi’s cock. You don’t care if you’re supposed to be learning some sort of lesson right now. Both of them need to cum inside you, filling up both your holes at the same fucking time. However, while Taehyung is on the verge of releasing any second now, Yoongi seems to need more convincing. He’s into it and reveling in the way your lips wrap around his length, but he needs more than just a sucking to get off, you conclude. If only you can use your hands. You’d play with his balls too and really drive him insane. 

Yoongi’s cock pops out of your mouth as Taehyung wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you into his lap. Holding you still, he circles his hips against your ass and shoots his warm cum deep in you. Yoongi groans and steps forward. In the midst of your high pitched moans from the erotic sensation, Yoongi grips onto your hair and returns his cock in its place down your throat. 

“If you got something to say, slut, say it on my dick like a good babygirl,” he seethes. 

He’s unbarred now, not letting his amusement get the best of him anymore. He continues to fuck your mouth while Taehyung nuzzles his face into your back and fills you of his load with the roars of his pleasure. Not too long after that, Yoongi fulfils your goal of having both your holes filled. He has your cheeks puffed with his lust too. Then, he slowly pulls out and orders you to swallow. You’re a professional, knowing when to breath and when to swallow to ensure you get every last drop in your mouth. With every gulp, your throat tightens around his cock. He throws his head back as grunts and curses escape him.

Once you’ve flattened your cheeks and Yoongi is completely out of you, Taehyung shoves you forward and pulls himself out too. His cum follows along. It trails down to your pussy in thick globs. You shudder, pressing your cheek against the wet shag rug. Wait… why is it wet? Looking up you find a puddle of Yoongi’s cum soaked in the rug. Have they both fucked you so hard that you’ve completely lost a hold of yourself? Your cheek is stained by his white cum, but neither one of them seems too concerned by that. 

Gasping for air, you try to recollect yourself and stick to the next part. You’re meant to ride one of them now while the other has another go at your ass. But Taehyung suddenly performs the unexpected. He begins to untie your hands. They both have a habit of following directions until they don’t want to. But they’re professionals too so you suppose that they know what they’re doing. 

“On your feet,” he orders in a gruff voice. All that moaning seems to have taken a toll on his vocal chords. Your voice is also shot from the dual attack on your throat. Now every moan and whine that leaves you trickles out in a horse croak. 

Pushing yourself up, you shakily return to your feet. It’s a bit odd using your hands now after having them bound for so long. You almost feel like they should’ve kept them behind you for the next round. It doesn’t matter much now though since you can’t even summon the words to tell them this. You didn’t cum, but it sure feels like you did. Still clouded and stumbling, you try to regulate your heartbeat. Both men hold onto one of your arms to keep you stable, but that only does so much. Knowing you’re going to fall, you stumble and lean into Taehyung. 

He laughs and gropes your tender asscheeks to press you against him. He’s still hard. They both are. Not a lot of men in this business can continue to perform this well in such a short timeframe. But, you suppose that’s what makes them such professionals. 

“What do you think, Tae? She learned her lesson yet?” Yoongi asks behind you, pushing your hair aside to bury his face in the crook of your neck. 

Taehyung hums in thought. He stares into your soul with that cocky sparkle in his eye. His face glistens with sweat, adding a heavenly glow to his unholy features of beauty. You wonder if you still look that good or if they’ve messed you up so hard that you’ve become a total wreck.

As Yoongi wraps his arms around your waist, Taehyung swipes the pad of his thumb from under your chin. Shit, have you been drooling or is that just the slobbery remnants of Yoongi’s fuck in your mouth. Taehyung smirks and shoves his thumb into your mouth. You taste Yoongi’s salty cum. 

“I think one last round should pound her back in her place,” Taehyung finally replies.

You’re not given a chance to speak as he lifts you up by the grip on your ass. The wrap of your legs around his waist is instant to which he smirks and shifts his jaw. Wait, is he still chewing that piece of gum? Your taste must be entrenched in it based on how he ate you out not too long ago. He’s either genuinely interested in you or just that committed to his role. 

Taehyung shifts his grip up to your waist while Yoongi moves his down to your ass. You know what’s coming, but you don’t think you’ll be able to stay as coherent as they’ll want you to be. You shudder a breath then hear their colliding chuckles at your anticipation. 

Yoongi kisses your shoulder saying, “Relax, babygirl. Your Daddys are just teaching you how to behave.”

“Be a good girl and next time we’ll take turns,” Taehyung adds.

The idea of doing this all over has your eyes widening. Taehyung huffs a chuckle at your reaction then nudges you back into leaning against Yoongi. “She’s fucking adorable,” he tells him. 

Yoongi nods. He kisses your temple then replies, “So cute, it almost makes me want to let her get away with acting like a sluty little brat.”

He tucks his cock between your cheeks, letting his length glide up and down. Taehyung adopts the same technique. His hard length also grinds between your folds, but doesn’t enter. You still mewl and rile your head from side to side. Everything feels so sensitive and raw. Your pussy is quivering and ass shaking from the little bits of friction against your clit and tight hole. 

It’s all too much without being enough. The teasing impression of their dicks so close to ruining you but all holes so empty has you groaning out in frustration, “Just fuck me already! Fucking stuff me until I can’t function!” 

Taehyung growls, slapping your breasts with one hand. “Where are your fucking manners, you little bitch? You still think you can demand shit from us, huh?”

Yoongi bites on your neck, nibbling on your flesh all while Taehyung scolds you. “Where’s our good girl? Fucking ask politely or you won’t cum at all,” he threatens, voice thick with lust but not at all as aggressive as his business partner. 

You let out a loud whine like a child throwing a tantrum. You’ve noticed that they’d usually soften up when you act as meek as this, but they’re just not yielding this time. Pouting, you cave in and desperately beg, “Pretty please use my holes, Daddys. Please, please, please just fucking ruin me. I don’t want to walk without your cum dripping out of me.”

They share a cocky look. One, two, three beats of silence with only that demo playing in the background and they still haven’t made any sort of effort to enter you. It must not have been enough, you think. Parting your lips, you go to beg all over again, so needy to feel full that you don’t care how much of a pathetic whore you sound like. 

In unison, they push in you. The collided catastrophe of their moans rattles your bones and warms your blood. Then, there’s the simultaneous stretch of both your holes. Full does not begin to describe how well they don’t fit in you. They’re splitting you open, tearing you apart so beautifully, you can’t even breathe. A loud, long scream escapes you as they bottom out. 

You thought Yoongi would slip in so easily with your ass already having been stretched by Taehyung’s monster cock. But, you forgot that Yoongi is slightly thicker meaning he stretches you a bit more. And Taehyung’s cock in your pussy barely even pushes its way through. 

“Tightest babygirl, huh?” Taehyung asks over your screams.  

Yoongi only hisses in response. His face continues to nuzzle into the crook of your neck. That tongue of his does not take a day off, working around every inch of your skin as they’re joined thrusts begin. 

Open for their pleasure, tears of ecstasy pool in your eyes. They start to bounce you back and forth between them. Cock in your ass means one pulling back from your pussy. Left and right, up and down you’re passed between them. Your grip around Yoongi’s head and Taehyung’s shoulder tightens. It doesn’t help you out much since you’re still losing your mind with how good they're pounding you. Taehyung presses his lips onto yours, swallowing your moans as he tastes Yoongi on your tongue. You feel that piece of gum hop around your tongues but Taehyung doesn’t let you take it back. 

“We know you’re a good girl,” he mutters against your lips while you pout and nod rapidly. “You’re the bestest little one. But you have to learn where you belong, baby.” 

Yoongi pushes the meat of your ass up with one hand while his other massages your tit. “Do you have anything to say to your Daddys?” He questions against your jawline. 

You want to answer but Taehyung’s praises and the joined sound of their pleasure has completely stolen your voice. You cannot even summon the words to reply. All that leaves you is squealing cries of bliss. And they’re getting impatient. Enough of that hopping around. They keep you still to ram into you at the same time instead. 

“I’m sorry!” You cry, voice breaking from the pleasure. “I’m sorry for- Ahh Daddys, Daddys please!” 

Your vision keeps blanking, flashing blurry images of Taehyung and Yoongi. They’re not too bothered by that though. It’s that broken sentence you didn’t finish that’s consumed their attention. 

“For what?” Taehyung growls. His grip is becoming deadly. 

Another meek squeal of a moan leaves you as you force yourself to answer, “For not doing my job. Ah-ha, I’m so fucking close!” 

Yoongi purrs praises of encouragement in your ear. But Taehyung wants more out of you. The three of you know that’s not all you should be sorry for. Though, just as you’re squeezing around them and losing control over your entire body, so are they. Their thrusts don’t match anymore even if they are still fast and rough. Each man has taken a different consistency of destroying your holes until they can only accept their cocks. 

Breasts bouncing, skin slapping, holes clenching, you screech the loudest, earaching whine and cum. Taehyung sighs, his load not too far behind. You do not register it at first. Your eyes have rolled back your head, and your body convulses so hard that you almost slip from their combined grip. That extra force down on Yoongi’s cock also has him filling your hole up to the brim. 

In, in, in. They continue to go in and imprint themselves within you. Your legs around Taehyung are starting to slip and in the midst of his own orgasm, he’s having a hard time concentrating on keeping you up. One of your legs fall and this new angle knocks the life out of you. You gasp, eyes shut, and lose the ability to speak entirely.

It’s a complete blur from there. Holes leak, cocks soften. However, their thrusts are still persisting, as if they’re not ready to let go of you yet. At one point, they both shove their tongues in your mouth at the same time and kiss the life back in you. Your eyes flutter open but vision does not fully return. You think they’re out of you. Their cum leaks out, or you think it does. You think you can feel it trickling down your legs. 

Back in your dress, they’ve somehow clothed you again. It is now you register the fact that they’ve degraded you so much to the point that they remained dressed while you were stark naked, your white boots and pink thong the only items of concealment you were offered. It makes you crave them all over again, even when you know you can’t take them so soon. 

They sit you down back in your seat behind your desk. After tucking themselves back in, Yoongi fixes his shirt and belt. Taehyung puts his tie back on and sweeps his hair back from the sides with both hands. 

Smiling, Yoongi puts his yellow shades on and asks, “All is forgiven, babygirl… This time anyway.”

Taehyung rolls his sleeves as Yoongi speaks, then takes out a cigarette. He lights it, takes a puff then bumps his fist against Yoongi’s. Smoke out, he smirks, “And that’s the boogie business.”

“Annnnnnnd cut!” 

The lights of the studio come alive all at once. Out of the eighties and back into the twenty-first century, all three of you return. The two men in front of you fall to their knees the moment cameras are off. You fall forward, folding your arms on your desk and resting your head on them. You know you’re a total mess. Nothing went according to the script and you hope they don’t make you all redo this after a touch up to your hair and make up. 

The director claps, stepping onto the set. “Well done,” he beams before turning around. “That’s a wrap for Boogie Business.” 

Sitting back up, you catch both Yoongi and Taehyung already staring at you. The video is done but they still have that look of absolute sin in their eyes. You furrow your brows as someone offers you a towel and a bottle of water. Set designers are already working on tearing the little retro office apart. The crew is packing up their equipment. And still, these two pornstars look ready to devour you all over again even in their exhausted state. 

This is usually the time when you stop pretending to have been worn up and stand up like nothing happened. You’d go to your seat near the hair and makeup section and get your face all clean from whatever sexual endeavours you’ve agreed to. Only this time, none of your performance was exaggerated. You truly came all those times and apologized for something you didn’t really do. Honestly, you enjoyed your time with both of them. They’ve very big in the porn industry, their reputations of owning a scene really rings true. So you are honoured to have worked with them. 

You raise a brow, wiping your mouth and face. Every part of you wants to get up. You’ve done your job and done it well. But, you’re half conscious and completely aching all over. They did exactly as you asked. They ruined you. 

“Good job, boys,” you smile after a few gulps of water.

A crew member offers each of them a bottle of water and towel too. They raise to their feet and clean themselves up. Taehyung approaches the prop desk first, tossing his towel and water on the surface like he really is a CEO of a record company. “You really came,” he mutters, sounding surprised. “Three fucking times? Is that what you also do?”

You don’t think too much of his shocked tone. Being a pornstar is a job after all and finishing is not always a guarantee. You smirk as Yoongi approaches the desk as well with the same impressed look. “Mhm,” you hum innocently. Their eyes light up. “And you both did too. It happens sometimes. I don’t see the issue.” 

Tossing a glance at each other, both men share a look. You freeze. It’s identical to the ones they’ve been giving each other the entire time while filming. Were they…Were they serious? Is that why they delved off the book so many times? They really wanted to fuck you. You’re not one to complain or judge since you really wanted it too, but you expected all this to be an act. 

“Do you have anywhere to be?” Yoongi asks. 

You bite your lip. Looking between them, you feel rejuvenated with horny energy all over again. “No,” you smile. 

Taehyung nods. “You do now. Meet us at my trailer in twenty.” He smiles at Yoongi before looking back at you. “There’s still a couple of things we’d like to try.”

You have a rule against getting involved with coworkers. But, clearly, these two men seem to be something more. You couldn’t resist them before and you sure as hell can't resist them now. Sitting back in your seat, you cross your cum slick legs and nod. “Yes, Daddys,” you chime in your most delicate voice. 

Their eyes darken.

With a lasting smirk and innocent giggle you add, “Anything you want.”

note; please do not leave hate towards me or any other readers. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my work without my permission.

[maysbanks]

dancing in the dark.

it’s been a hot minute and some of y’all will be surprised that this came from me as i’m very anti rafe but i’ve been in a drew mood for the past couple of weeks and this kinda came from that so enjoy lmao. also i’ll come back and put the read more on tomorrow sorry i’m lazy and wrote this on my phone lol (just imagine this an au kinda thing ok)

this includes rafe being sex on legs, oral sex (female receiving), swearing, mention of alcohol and drug use etc

you’re forced to go to midsummer’s by your friends and the night ends up unexpectedly with rafe cameron three fingers deep in you

“Do you think I should wear a bra with this?” You looked over to Kiara who was stood in front of her wide mirror littered with Polaroids of you and the gang, summer yellow dress held up to her half naked body as she assessed her appearance. Your eyes rolled, a heavy sigh emitting from your lips.

“I don’t know Kie, how about you not wear the dress at all and ditch the Kook fest and stay in with me?” You tried, (about your thousandth attempt at getting her to see sense and not force you to go to Midsummer’s with her), but all you got in return was another eye roll and laugh from your curly haired friend, who turned and sent you one of her signature ‘I’m very much done with your shit’ looks.

“We’re going,” she stressed, and you whined, throwing your body back atop her bed and holding a pillow over your face in silent protest. “Stop being such a baby and get over yourself. We’re all going, it’s not like I’m just feeding you to the lions.”

She had a point, but you refused to admit it. You’d be in a mood all night if it meant you were to attend Midsummer’s, which Kie was forcing all of you to go to. She was the only Kook in your group of friends, which meant she was the only one that attended the party every year, but this year John B was also invited along due to Sarah Cameron being his girlfriend (he’d protested just as much as you when he first found out), and Pope would be there anyway because him and his dad would be working there for the night with their barbecue, and so Kie had the bright idea to invite the remaining two of you along; you and JJ.

If you were throwing a hissy fit, then JJ would be ten times worse. You could just imagine him stomping his booted feet as he refused to put on the suit that John B forced him to rent, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he’d somehow managed to crawl out of a window and escape the desperate clutches of his best friend. The thought almost made you laugh out loud, but then you remembered you were in a mood and clamped your lips shut beneath the silky purple pillow you still held captive over your head.

“Please don’t make me go,” you pleaded. You grunted when a sudden weight landed on your abdomen, the pillow you were clutching wrenched from your hands and thrown across the room, your eyes landing on Kiara’s who frowned down at you from her position straddling your waist. (If anyone were to walk in then and there and see you both half naked on her bed you were sure you’d give them a heart attack.) “Please, Kie. I’m begging you.”

Kie sighed. “It’s one night, you can manage for one night ‘kay. I’ve been doing this practically my whole life and I’ve survived, so can you.” You groaned at her matter of fact tone, huffing when she shifted her weight and gripped your cheeks in her hands, effectively cutting off any whining you were about to do and squishing your face between her hands. “Now, shut up moaning, get off my bed, and get dressed. You look so hot, and you’re going to look even hotter in that dress.” Her face suddenly changed, the stern glare morphing into a cheeky grin. “Who knows, maybe your night will end up with you on your knees.”

“Ugh, Kie!” You groaned, shoving her off of you and trying your best to ignore her cackle that had your lips quirking upward. Sending her a quick glare, you eyed the dress she chose for you that was hanging on her wardrobe door. “Fine, I‘ll go. But I’ll be complaining the whole time.”

• • •

Turned out Kiara was right, you did look hot in your dress. It wasn’t often that you did dress up, being a Pogue in the Outer Banks there was never really any reason to, and it’s not like you could afford it anyway. You really didn’t want to know how much the dress you were wearing cost, the expensive feeling fabric enough to make you cringe. It was pretty, the emerald green a stark contrast to Kie’s light yellow, the smooth silk cooling you down in the humid summer evening. It was a deep plunge, the sides of your boobs mildly exposed enough to have people turning their heads or dipping their eyes down to catch a glance. The skirt fell mid length just a bit under your knees, but your legs were exposed nicely due to the slits on both sides that began at your mid thigh. With a pair of heels that you also borrowed from Kie’s wardrobe, you had to admit you looked the part and some more for an evening at Midsummer’s.

“Holy shit,” Pope breathed when he saw you, standing alone at the grill he would be tending to for most of the night. “You’re wearing a dress.”

“Nice observation skills, Caption Obvious,” you sassed, still in a bitter mood over your attendance at the event but feeling a little better with a beer in your hands. Your lips curled in mild disgust as you glanced around you, everywhere you looked a rich and stuck up Kook would be stood there, nursing their expensive cocktails and whiskey with the finest suits and dresses on as they made idle chat about where they’d be vacationing to and what newest model of car they’d just gotten. “I can’t believe I’m here. Midsummer’s sucks.”

Pope nodded in agreement to your statement, looking away from you briefly to flip over a burger sizzling on the grill. “Least you haven’t got it as bad as John B, Sarah’s been at him all day, making sure that he turns up. Poor guy has no idea what’s coming for him, spending the night talking to Ward and all his rich buddies.”

Just as Pope mentioned the man’s name, said man and his family appeared at the door of the country club, making their grand entrance as usual, all eyes turning to gawk as the Cameron family stride in, Ward and Rose in front (you tried not to stare too hard at the concoction atop the blonde woman’s head, it would hurt your eyes), Wheezie just behind them, grinning at the attention she was receiving, Sarah a little behind her, dragging along an embarrassed looking John B on her arm (you and Pope shared a look and snorted simultaneously).

Your eyes, however, upon returning on the Cameron clan, suddenly couldn’t look away from the person right at the back of the group, dragging his feet with a small frown on his pink lips and hands in his pockets as he ignored all extended hands held out for him to shake and instead assessed the crowd stood beneath him, as if looking for someone. You took the time to glance him over, appreciating the way his body looked in a light grey suit, black dress shirt beneath complimenting the outfit perfectly. You’d noticed his hair a bit ago, the times you’d crossed paths or seen him around town you couldn’t help but notice it - he’d stopped gelling it and wore the dark blonde strands freely, letting it flop on his forehead in a way you thought attractive. From the last time you’d seen him he’d obviously gotten in a fight (not surprising for his character), as he was sporting a bruised cheek on his right side. All in all, he looked fucking good. And you hated to admit it, because he was Rafe Cameron. And you were meant to hate Rafe Cameron.

When his light blue eyes landed on you though, all thoughts of that kind left your mind and all that was left was the ones that had you mentally undressing him. As if knowing your exact thoughts, his lips curled into a smirk as he stared you down, neither of you breaking the contact. That lasted a whole 56 seconds (were you counting?) before the trance was broken for you, and you were knocked on the shoulder by an aggressively big hand that belonged to JJ Maybank.

“I can’t fucking believe I’m here right now,” he whined in a high pitched voice, Kie on his other side rolling her eyes, Pope chuckling amusedly at his friend. You ignored them all, turning your head back desperately hoping that Rafe hadn’t moved in the few seconds you looked away, your heart hammering wildly in your chest when he realised no, he had not, and was still staring at you from across the lawn, this time his eyes swooping down your figure and taking you all in, a hand rested at his jaw and fingers dangerously close to his lips as he did. When he was finished, he caught your eyes again, this time sending you a wink and a smile when all you could do was stare back with parted lips. “Hellooo, is anyone in there?”

You turned briefly to JJ who along with Pope and Kiara was staring at you and sending you confused looks, and you swallowed as you questioned them, handing JJ the drink in your hands he requested and denying the offer of weed. The three sent you crazed glares when you refused, after all weren’t you the one that downright refused to attend and made a big deal out of it and specifically said ‘that somebody had better smuggle in some good booze and weed to get me through the night’. But all that had left your mind the minute your eyes landed on Rafe Cameron, and you had other ideas on how to get through the night - hopefully ending up with you sat on his dick.

When you looked back at where Rafe was stood, however, you were disheartened to see that he’d moved, and when you looked around the lawn to try and spot him you saw him stood in the midst of a conversation with Topper and Kelce, his mouth moving and his words directed at them, but his eyes still on you.

Your lips pulled into a small smirk as you decided waiting a while wouldn’t hurt, if it meant the night would end up how you wanted it to, which you were positive it would as Rafe licked his lips, slowly and purposely, his eyes dancing along your figure. You just hoped it would be soon, because you weren’t sure how long you could last without feeling his hands on you.

• • •

“Fuck, these heels are so uncomfortable,” you muttered, stood off to the side with the gang as you sneakily passed vodka disguised in a water bottle between the five of you, John B having escaped the clutches of Ward Cameron and his rich buddies to join you all in complaining and making fun of the festivities that Midsummer included.

“Take em off,” John B suggested with a careless shrug, yours and Kiara’s shared scoff at the possibility of it making him frown.

JJ grinned lazily, “Nah, nah, what she needs to take off is that dress,” he gestured to you, finger pointing accusingly at your semi exposed chest. “I mean, is there even any point in wearing anything? You might as well, y’know, liven up this party while you’re at it.”

“In your dreams, Maybank,” you rolled your eyes, taking a swig of the bitter alcohol when Pope passed it to you, ignoring JJ’s return of ‘oh trust me, it will be’. “I have other plans on how to liven up this party anyways, for me, at least.”

Kie’s brows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?” She voiced the gang’s thoughts, waving a hand in dismissal as the alcohol was offered to her, holding a hand on her stomach to show that she’d had enough and felt sick. You just grinned cheekily, taking a hit of the vodka next when Pope also refused.

As if he knew exactly what you were just talking about, a voice suddenly sounded from somewhere behind you, the distinct attractiveness of it causing your head to turn and your eyes to meet Rafe’s as he stood a bit away from you and the gang, hands once again in his pockets of his slacks as he seemingly ignored the rest of your friends, eyes only on you. A smile made its way onto your face without you even realising, and it was as if John B had been shot right in the stomach when he came to the realisation, a loud groan of protest leaving his mouth.

“C’mon, you can’t be serious,” he practically pleaded, the remaining three of your friends still clueless and confused as to what was going on as they chorused their questions. You ignored them all, shoving the near empty bottle into John B’s hands and sending the guys a wide smirk and wink before you turned on your heels and made your way towards where Rafe was seemingly waiting, a smug smirk on his own pretty pink lips. “Oh my god, she is! She actually is!”

You were too far away by the time you made it to Rafe to hear exactly what your friends were saying, but you were close enough to hear their collected groans of disgust and exclaims of protest when John B had finally explained what was happening. You payed no mind, even when JJ shouted after you in warning, your feet landing you right in front of Rafe. The dirty blonde swiped his tongue over his teeth as he took you in so up close, his eyes glistening under the shine of the fairy lights hung up all over. He stared at you for what felt like an eternity before he glanced over your shoulder, taking note of your foul faced friends.

“Seems like they don’t want you to come with me,” he spoke in a low voice, the rumble of it so close to you and the suggestion of his words sending shivers down your body and right to your core.

You shrugged simply. “I don’t really give a fuck.” You informed him promptly, your words making a grin form on his face.

“Then let’s go, baby.” You wasted no time in taking his outstretched hand, letting him lead you away from the crowd and out towards the back. You had to put your full trust in him then, you had no idea as to anything about the country club, had no possible clue as to where he was taking you, but you found no issue in trusting him, the need for him to fuck you senseless the only thing staying in your mind.

It was when you landed in a hallway upon entering the building from a back door when he let go of your hand and instead raised them to your face, pulling you close to his body and your head near his as he pressed his lips against yours with a certain kind of desperation you’d never felt before. You gasped into his mouth at the intensity of it, hands moving to grip his hair between your fingers as he backed you up and pressed you flush against a wall, his knee resting between your legs.

When he pressed it slightly against you, you couldn’t do anything else but moan into his hot kiss, heavy rasps of breath escaping your chest. Rafe pulled back slightly, cheeks flushed and lips cherry red, his pupils dilated and staring you down. He did the same action, watching you this time, and when you moaned just a little bit louder and threw your head back to bang against the wall, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly, Rafe let out a low groan. “You’re so fucking hot,” he mumbled as he pressed up against you once more, hands at your hips and bundling your dress between his large digits, causing the fabric to ride up your legs just a little. “Dressed up all nice, your tits fucking perfect and practically pooling out, you like the attention on you don’t you, baby?”

You never thought you did until now, but you weren’t about to tell him that, simply nodding your head at his words in an attempt to make him kiss you again with those beautifully sinful lips. Rafe did no such thing though, instead looking to you with those pretty blue eyes as he gripped the dress tighter in his palms, the fabric moving higher, exposing more and more, his thigh pressing to you again. You let out a whine at the feel of it, lips parting in pleasure at his actions. “Let me hear you say it, baby. Say you like the attention.”

“I like it,” you gasped out, desperate for him to do something, anything, even in this dimly lit hallway where anyone could catch the both of you. “I like it so fucking much, Rafe. I like the feel of eyes on me, especially yours.”

Rafe moaned low in his throat, one hand moving to grip your jaw as he kissed you, lips moving open with yours and slipping his tongue in your mouth, the grip he had tightening ever so slightly the more time that went by. You had no idea when he'd picked you up, forcing your legs around his waist and pressing you further into the wall, his lips leaving yours to leave hot, open-mouthed kisses along your neck, chest and shoulders. You almost lost it completely when he trailed further down, following the plunge of your dress and kissing the space between your tits, sucking ever so gently. “Fuck, Rafe,” you moaned when his body seemed to go down with his head, ending up with you practically sitting on his squatted knees as he gripped your sides with his large palms, holding your body to him tightly as he continued his trail of warm and wet kisses on your exposed skin.

Rafe allowed his tongue to lick a stripe of your exposed tit on your left side, the whine that emitted from your lips at his sinful action echoing in the hallway. Rafe pulled his head back from you, eyes blown wide as he looked to you. “Fucking Christ, do you wanna get caught baby?”

At the half-assed shake of your head, too desperate to feel his mouth back on you, his hands trailed down your body and instead clutched your ass, holding you possessively to him as he straightened his knees and stood straight, a gasp emitting from your lips when he did so and caused friction right to your pussy at the movement. Rafe seemed to realise what he did at the same time you did, and the moan that left his own mouth was one you never wanted to forget. “Fuck, let’s get you out of here.”

The best place available in the country club turned out to be the family bathroom. You had no time to dwell on how big the space was, almost as big as your entire living room in your house, before you were set down on the marble counter and pulled back to Rafe’s mouth once more. You wasted no time in returning his hot kiss, your hands at the back of his neck as his slid under the slits of your dress and clutched your thighs for a few seconds before trailing higher and landing one hand over your thin panties, cupping your pussy.

“Fuck me,” you moaned loudly. Rafe grinned against your lips, pearly white teeth clashing with your own.

“That’s the plan, sweetheart,” he mumbled against you and you panted as he started to move down your body, peppering kisses along your body on his way, before he landed between your legs, his palms on your knees as he kneeled on his own. “Open your legs,” he demanded and you did as asked with no hesitation, causing him to chuckle darkly. “Needy aren’t we, baby?”

Of fucking course you were, you wanted to say. You’d been waiting for this all night, you wished to speak. But you bit your tongue, not wanting to delay any action any further. When you didn’t answer, however, Rafe tugged on the back of your knees slightly, causing your ass to slip from the counter a little bit, your pussy more exposed and closer to his face as he awaited your response. “Yes, Rafe! I’m fucking needy.”

“Good girl,” he cooed, and you whined lightly when he blew on your core, goosebumps forming on your skin. Rafe bundled your dress in his warm palms, moving it so it was above your hips and you were fully on show to him, your white lace panties completely soaked through. Rafe groaned at the sight, looking at your pussy like it was water and he hadn’t had a drink in days. “So fucking wet,” he muttered, more to himself than you, and you weren’t sure if he wanted an answer to that but he didn’t wait for one anyway, pulling your panties down your legs and throwing them carelessly behind him. “I’ve been waiting for your pretty pussy all night.”

“Oh god,” you moaned when his fingers trailed along you, large digits on either side of your clit as he pressed them together and grinned when you screamed at the friction. You watched as his dirty blonde head went between your thighs, and felt his hot mouth on you not a second later. He was so fucking good, you thought, you never wanted this to end even though it had only just started, not wanting to waste another minute of your life without Rafe Cameron between your thighs.

His tongue was leaving long trails, and he flattened it out against you making you shiver. One hand left your knee to grip the back of your calf as he slipped his tongue in your pussy, your head banging against the mirror behind you. His fingers followed after, his tongue leaving you only to be replaced by his long digits as you moaned helplessly from above him, one hand gripping the counter while the other tugged on his hair. When you pulled particularly hard on the strands, he would hum against you and it would send a whole new wave of pleasure throughout your body that you had to stop yourself from screaming too loudly every time.

You could distinctly hear the beat of the music coming from the party occurring outside, the beginning of Bruce Springsteen’s smooth voice hitting your ears as he sang along to Dancing In the Dark, before the sound was replaced by your own scream as Rafe entered a second finger into your pussy, his tongue sucking on your clit simultaneously.

Everything was too much and you weren’t sure how much more you could take, feeling the familiar build of light pressure in your belly as you managed to rasp out, “Rafe, I’m gonna cum,” into the room, and you weren’t even sure he heard you before he pulled his face away, his fingers moving at a perfect rhythm and pace still within you.

“Hold it, baby,” he was saying, blue eyes staring up into your own as you shook your head in a silent plea, begging to be able to let go. The hand that wasn’t fucking you reached up under your dress and found your tit, fondling it in his palm and lightly squeezing your nipple between the rough pads of his fingertips. “C’mon baby, just a second. You think you can take another finger?”

You were practically seeing stars already, your orgasm right there within reach, but you nodded despite yourself, wanting this wonderful feeling to never end. Rafe smiled as he moved his head in closer again, pressing a kiss to your clit as he mumbled, “That’s my girl,” into you before adding another finger as promised, three fingers deep in your cunt.

The feel of his fingers fucking you, his mouth upon you, the excitement of the night and thrill of the possibility of getting caught in the bathroom at the country club, mixed with the thud of the music and low groans from Rafe was evading every one of your thoughts and you couldn’t think clearly, you weren’t even sure what you were doing, but you knew that you were begging, praising, screaming into the thick air that the pair of you had created. Rafe’s head was still buried deep between your thighs, and the sight of him down there could have ended you in itself.

“Cum for me, baby,” the vibration of his voice on your cunt had you gasping, fingers knotting in his hair as your spine curled so much that your forehead was pressed against the cool glass of the mirror you were seated against, shoving your pussy further up into his mouth and effectively causing his fingers to curl beautifully inside you. “C’mon, sweetheart. Let go.”

It hit you like a train: your vision blurred, your chest heaved, your stomach clenched, and your legs and arms turned to jelly. Throughout it all Rafe still remained there, fingers buried in you and riding out your orgasm with you. His mouth detached from your pussy and he chose to watch you come undone by him instead, his cherry red lips parted in amazement as he watched you scream from above him. You gasped as you felt his fingers leave you, opening your eyes to watch him take the soaked digits into his mouth and suck them clean, a moan of approval leaving his mouth at the taste. You had no time to register him going back in, his mouth back on your pussy and licking you clean of your cum, a loud and needy whine falling past your lips at the sight.

When he pulled back, a satisfied smile upon his glistening lips, he wasted no time in leaning up and pressing back against you, one arm curling round your back and pulling you flush against him, the other in your hair as he kissed you, the taste of you on his tongue.

“I think you should come to Midsummer’s more often,” he mumbled, and you smiled against his lips, legs wrapping around his waist and heels pressing to his ass causing him to rub against your exposed core.

“If it’s gonna end up with me getting fucked by you in the bathroom every time, then I don’t see why I should complain.” You cheekily taunted, your own lips moving along his jaw.

Rafe growled low in his throat, his blue eyes catching his reflection in the mirror behind you, watching as you sucked on his neck. He grinned to himself, a hand palming your ass as he watched.

“How about I fuck you right now against this counter and make you watch, huh?”

(Fuck, maybe Midsummer’s wasn’t so bad as you originally thought after all.)

[appleciders]

Rachel + Leah + Water, the Director’s Cut!

Okay, so I made this gifset exploring Rachel and Leah and the ocean, but because there’s a ten gif limit and a major point of gifsets is for them to look nice, I had to sacrifice a lot of the behind the scenes thoughts and initial versions that came along the way. I still wanted to talk about them though, because I found a lot of them really cool, so I figured I’d stick all that in this post. It’s gonna get long, so you can find the rest under the cut!

So first up, we have Leah as we first see her in the water. (I’m using shitty screenshots because tumblr has a 2mb limit for gifs on text posts and I don’t feel like compressing these down lmao.) Here, she’s face-down, unconscious, floating on a fragment of the plane. This is the first time we see any of the girls in the water.

As Leah gives her dramatic speech talks to the detectives, we see flashbacks to the girl’s lives pre-island. There we see that one of them already has a very strong relationship with the water already, in her before-life: Rachel.

Rachel, as we know, is a diver. We see her take a magnificent tumble into the pool, but when she surfaces, her coach is sternly head-shaking. She corrects Rachel’s form, and after she walks away, Rachel echoes the correction, clearly frustrated with herself. 

Back to Leah. We next see Leah waking up on her lil chunk of flotsam. When she realizes what the hell’s going on, she does what we all would do and starts screaming in terror.

Her panic gets interrupted by Jeannette’s classic Raise Your Glass ringtone. (This was my alarm for two years in high school, and when I watched this for the first time I did have an out-of-body experience). She swims her way over to the Hello Kitty suitcase and—irrationally—unzips it, but we’ll cut her some slack because she’s in some serious shock. As she tries to get the phone, it slips through her fingers and starts spiraling down to the bottom of the ocean. She dives after it.

Unfortunately, she quickly runs out of air and has to give up. She then spots Jeannette floating nearby, checks her out, judges her to be “just a little roughed up,” and then sees land and has a big oh-thank-fuck moment. Because we saw Gretchen’s team placing all of the girls, we know that Linh and Leah were the only two that were put out in the open water. The other girls were put in the beach, or, in Martha’s case, near the shore. This was probably done to quell some of Leah’s suspicions about the crash, but it does give me a couple questions about how they got the other girls wet—did they hose them all down? Pour a couple buckets over their heads? Bob each of them up and down a couple times in a big net like fries in a fryer?? 

Anyway, not important. 

Next that we see, Leah has pulled Jeannette/Linh in from the water. (My Australian parents, who can never pass up an opportunity to give ocean safety tips, chimed in at this point in our first watch to say “See how she’s doing it! You always want to hold someone from behind and pull them in that way. Good job, well done.” So there’s some approval for you, Leah.) As Leah nears the shore, Dot and Toni come tearing in and they help pull the two of them out. 

The rest of the episode after that really only concerns fresh water—Toni and Shelby set out in search of it, to no avail, and Nora helpfully plugs Diet Coke reminds us multiple times that sugar’s heavier than water, so “sugar sinks.” We do set up a goal for the next couple episodes, though: Rachel says, “I'm gonna swim out to the plane tomorrow. See if I can find anything,” and Leah volunteers to come with. Rachel gives her a nod of respect.

Moving on to episode two, we have Rachel and Leah’s (iconic) first real conversation. Rachel says she’s still going out to the wreckage. Leah looks out and looks back at her, incredulous, and says, “Rachel, the water’s insane.” Here’s a big recurring association—the water and “insanity.” (I use insanity here because that’s the language they use, along with psycho/crazy. In no way does that reflect my actual beliefs about their behavior nor am I condoning the way they use those words.) Leah points out the rip current (“well done,” said my mum), and explains her very brief stint as a norcal surfer. Rachel still looks set on going, but then Leah says:

Turns out, Leah can be as ripe with foreshadowing as Fatin. This marks the appearance of their second main association with the ocean—death. After she says this, Leah turns Rachel’s attention inland, and the two agree to climb a big hill to scope out their situation.

Episode two is also obviously Rachel’s episode, so we see a lot of her relationship with diving. 

We see her plunge over and over and over again, drilling technique and form, but despite all her hard work, we learn her coach advised her to quit the team. Instead, Rachel throws herself in twice as hard, and ends up with an eating disorder. By the time the nationals come around, she’s too physically weak to dive safely, and she ends up hitting her head as she goes down. She surfaces in the pool with blood flowing around her.

She refuses to see that as the end of her diving career. She says she’s gonna “get back out there” and “be fucking great again” and she tells Nora at the end of the episode that she needs her to let her believe that.

In episode three, we finally see Leah and Rachel’s trip out to the plane! Nora comes along with them, her relationship with Rachel smoothed over after the events of ep two. “Nora’s a good swimmer,” Rachel explains as she invites her, “We were both water babies.” Water’s clearly been central to Nora and Rachel’s identities since they were really young. 

The three of them make their escape from the rest of the girls as the topic of building a shelter comes up. “Not interested in putting down roots!” Rachel calls. In keeping with the elements theme, Rachel isn’t looking to be grounded. She climbs super high into the air and she dives deep into the water, but earth isn’t her thing. (See: the quicksand scene. Whoops.)

Anyway, the three of them paddle out into the water. Rachel dives down, scopes out the plane, tells Nora she doesn’t expect her to “fucking free dive in open water,” and then looks to Leah and asks if she’s ready. Leah reluctantly agrees. 

We get our first shot Rachel swimming down into the ocean and our second shot of Leah (first the phone, second the plane). In the wreckage of the plane, they discover the black box, affixed to the wall. They keep trying to wrench it free, but it’s stuck, and Leah—who’s primary activity is, like, reading—keeps having to surface for air. Rachel gets frustrated and grabs her leg, holding her down. 

Leah screams and fights, but Rachel doesn’t let go. We cut away, and when we see them again, they’ve emerged victorious (Rachel) and drowned as dogs after a bath (Leah and Nora) with the black box in hand. Later, Leah mutters the above line to Fatin, calling Rachel a “psychopath.” For those keeping score at home, here’s where we refer back to the association between water and “insanity.”

In episode four, the ocean benevolently bestows a bag of takis upon Nora, and we have our whole shelter-building shebang. It’s all very land-based until Leah and Fatin go head to head, which ends with Fatin smearing her blood all over Leah’s face. Leah, with her usual flair, strips off her clothes as she walks into the ocean. She stays down there, passively letting the water wash the blood from her face.

This shot parallels a couple things. First, the drifting blood visually parallels Rachel in the pool after her diving injury. Second, we have Rachel staring out at the water where Leah’s disappeared and going, “Man, that is some real Virginia Woolf-type shit.” Dot has no fucking clue what she means, so Fatin interprets: “It means that bitch is crazy. She said you were the psychopath of the group.” Now it’s Leah who’s done something in the water that’s been deemed insane. The water and “insanity;” the water and accusations of insanity within their relationship. 

Those accusations pop up in episode five, but the episode is pretty focused on the inland search for Fatin, and revolves around fresh water, not salt water. (That could be a whole nother post lol.) It’s in episode six where we again see these two return to the ocean. 

Rachel is diving in the ocean! For fun! She’s picking up pretty shells (which granted isn’t the safest thing to do in the pacific, cone snails are not our friends), and she’s grinning, and she’s generally enjoying herself. With the, uh, finale situation, we’re probably not gonna get to see her smile for a bit, which is sad, because she should get to do this more often! This shot visually echoes her diving for the plane and Leah diving for the phone, except she can be in a better mood because there is no end goal. 

So she goes diving, ends up finding a bunch of mussels, gathers ‘em up, and brings ‘em back to camp. They all chow down, but wind up with serious food poisoning. Martha and Toni ring death’s doorbell a couple of times. Rachel blames herself—she’s the one that went swimming out there, she brought the mussels back. Again, we see that connection between the ocean and death.

And that association comes back bright an early in ep seven! The tide surges higher than they’ve ever seen, taking down their shelter and leaving them all scrambling. 

While Leah convinces Fatin that her life is more important than her suitcase, Rachel is left with a decision: help Nora, screaming to her from where she’s clinging to a rock for dear life, or grab the black box. In a move that contrasts Toni’s immediate and unquestioning aid of Martha, Rachel picks the black box. 

After, when they’re debriefing, Nora’s quick to bring it up. She doesn’t hide her hurt. “It happened so fast,” she says, “we all acted irrationally. Like Fatin, who jumped into a rip current to save her toothbrush. Or Rachel, who left me for fucking dead.” I think this counts as a double whammy for the “insanity” and death count—I think “acted irrationally” is as close as Nora gets to calling anyone crazy, and is honestly a better descriptor of all the other instances of “insanity” that we’ve seen, and the ocean was the source of the very real risk to Nora’s life. 

(Honestly, I think Rachel thought she was making a rational choice here—just with some grim fucking calculus. Still, given that nobody’d responded to the black box by then, I think it was a decision fueled by the need to keep hold of hope more than actual rationality.) In a fun contrast to the rest of the episode, it’s Leah that keeps a level head in this situation. 

The rest of the episode is low on water scenes, though Leah’s paranoia about Shelby is fueled by her sneaking off to the water, which could fall under the “insanity” category. It also marks where Nora begins to take an active role in breaking apart Rachel’s fantasy about diving again. 

Ep eight has one of the best montages in a series of great montages, with the playing in the water scene! A plane has seen them, they’re gonna be saved, and they all get to get high and act like kids. 

I have this lingering and probably irrational concern that the entire water play scene is choreographed and that it’s chock-full of foreshadowing. Like I know to some extent they likely were just like “yeah guys go goof off in the water,” but like...the wave pulling Rachel and Nora apart here...I mean.... (Rachel is probably gonna get more blood on Dot in the near future, too. ) That aside, their horseplay gets interrupted when Leah notices some blood on Dot, which Rachel realizes is her own period blood.  

Fatin then chimes in with her ever-gleeful foreshadowing: “Shark week for Rachel.” So while this whole encounter with the water actually seems mostly good for a change, it’s colored by the tie-in to what we know is coming.

In ep nine, reality has set in that rescue isn’t imminent. Everyone’s starving, Leah has started to spiral, and Rachel’s unusually skittish. By the tide’s edge, Nora asks for her help fishing, but Rachel refuses, saying that she’s weak. Nora flicks water at her, and Rachel flinches, clearly scared.

Starvation seems to have triggered Rachel’s trauma around the water leftover from her diving accident. In response, Nora reaches out a hand and says, “Let’s go for a walk.”

Meanwhile, Leah’s spiral has reached critical. She starts ranting about the ocean and the water and pushes past Dot, sprinting into the waves:

And so she’s taken to heart the way they think Jeannette’s body “escaped” the island—the tide—and it’s been spun like cotton candy in her head. She’s right, technically—Jeanette/Linh’s body was moved off the island by boat, and there’s definitely an argument that if they really did all swim out Gretchen’s team would save them, or at least try to. This is also a very real suicide attempt. So it’s kind of a culmination of the threats of death and mental health issues that’ve been wrapped up in the ocean since the start.

On Rachel’s end, Nora has taken her up to a cliff. Rachel calls the whole thing “borderline insane,” walking up when they’re so low on energy, but Nora tells her she needs to make a truce between herself and the water. 

“You’re afraid of it now,” she says, and Rachel replies that, “All it ever did was make me sick.” Nora immediately surges forward to say “That’s not true!” Rachel, incredulous, says, “Isn't this what you want? For me to hang it up? For me to forget the whole fucking diving game?” Nora says, “No. I don't know. I don't want you to forget you.” She then tells Rachel she should dive off the end of the cliff, that she marked it to make sure it’s safe. Rachel says she can’t.

There’s a lot here. First, there’s the first time we’ve seen of Rachel explicitly call herself sick. In episode two, even in a treatment center, she still denies it, says she’s just an athlete who knows what it takes. But now she’s reached a place where she acknowledges her eating disorder—and also probably her recent illness with the mussels—and ties it directly to the water. It’s the reason she’s sick.

Nora’s fear that Rachel will forget herself also just hammers home how central the water has always been to Rachel’s identity. Cutting herself off from the water would be cutting off a core part of herself. (...whoops) And we’ve seen that it does bring her actual joy, when she’s allowed to relax with it, but she’s had such traumatic associations rolled up into it now. Nora doesn’t want Rachel to do diving as a sport anymore, because of how badly it’s hurt her, but she does want Rachel to keep diving and swimming as like, a form of unevaluated personal expression.

At the moment that Rachel’s refusing to jump, she and Nora hear shouts from the mainland. They see Fatin and Dot screaming after Leah. Confused, Nora asks, “Where is she going?” but Rachel understands immediately, with absolute certainty, without needing to be told—“To fucking drown to death.” Seven episodes after Leah called heading into the water a death wish, she’s finally proving it true. Rachel squares her shoulders, takes a few deep breaths, and sprints into a dive. 

Unlike all her other dives high altitude dives we’ve seen her do, this dive isn’t qualified based on aesthetics. This dive matters because of what it will do, not on how it looks. And what it does do is bring her into the ocean, where she needs to be for her friend. So with strong strokes, she swims out towards Leah.

When she reaches her, she takes hold of her, pulls her into her chest from behind. She begins to swim with her back to shore. This rescue directly parallels Leah’s rescue of Linh that we talked about above. It also, as the Out in the Wilds podcast insightfully pointed out, really calls Rachel and Leah’s relationship back to the beginning. Whereas Rachel had initially held Leah down in the water, putting her in danger of drowning, Rachel here pulls her out of the water, saving her from drowning. Together, they make it all the way back to the shore.

Finally (and, like, if you’ve made it all the way down here? bless you. thank you), we have episode ten. The ocean doesn’t really figure into episode ten until the very end. Rachel has had a long episode of healing—she’s happy to be full and she’s in a good place with her sister and things seem to be going pretty okay. She decides to heal her relationship with the water, too. She heads out, telling Nora that she’s “Just gonna float, Nor. Just float.”

Just floating. After all the times we saw her plunging into the water, purposefully, with frustration, with drive, with so much to prove and with so much sacrifice and self-abuse to prove it with, Rachel finally just wants to float. She wants to let herself relax. She wants to let the water carry her.

Of course, that means there has to be, like, a massive marine carnivore waiting to mistake her for a seal.

Visually, this shot really parallels the opening shot of Leah on the fragment of plane. Instead of being face-down, though, she’s face-up, and she’s conscious, just not of the threat from below. 

The shark bites.

In a horrible parallel to Leah’s Virginia Woolf moment and Rachel’s diving accident, we see blood pool in the water. Rachel is pulled under. The girls on the land start screaming and running toward her. We know Rachel doesn’t die, but this is still a near-death experience, one that probably cost her her arm. Leah, covered in dirt and her own blood after crawling out of the pit Nora led her into, can only stand and watch, shocked and horrified.

So that got! Way longer than I meant it to! And honestly most of this was condensed into very concise tags in a post I made a few days ago! But if you made it all the way down here, you’ve now seen everything I wanted to fit into that gifset but couldn’t. Thanks for sticking with me, friend <3

[lyranova]

Heyooooo Lyraaaa 😘!!! I was wondering if um hehe👉👈😅, if you could make a yamichar fic where they accidentally traveled in time and accidentally meet their future child (or children lmao) lol😂, it's okay if you don't wanna do it 🙂 no pressure 😘

Children of the Future:

Chapter 1: Hikari

Of course Lei! I’m sorry this took so long IRL has been busy 😅! But i hope you like this, also I just realized you wanted Yamichar to be the ones who time travel, and instead i made it the child who goes back in time oops. But i hope this is ok! Also, Hikari belongs to the lovely @eme-eleff (thank you for letting me borrow her for this Ilysm 🥰💕!)

Edit: This is Chapter 1 of my new series ‘Children of the Future’, instead of reposting it I decided to edit it and reblog it haha!

Word Count: 1,701

Warnings: None

———

Yami couldn’t stop grumbling, he had been summoned by Julius to come to his office, he claimed there was something important he needed to see. Yami had been confused at first, but he wasn’t really allowed to disobey a summons from the Wizard King. So he walked through the halls that he knew like the back of his hand, deep in thought, when he saw a flash of blonde out of the corner of his eyes. He turned and noticed it was the Prickly Princess herself, Charlotte Roselei. He watched her look up in surprise at him and her face turned a shade of pink.

“ Y-Yami? What are you doing here?” She asked as she came to a stop, she hadn’t seen him for a while, since everyone had been training in order to battle the Spade Kingdom. She watched him tilt his head and do a half-shrug.

“ The Wizard King summoned me, said he had something important to show me. You?” He asked as he also came to a stop.

“ Same here, I wonder if he summoned the other Captains as well.” Charlotte said curiously as she folded her arms, it wasn’t unusual for Julius to call them suddenly, but when it did it usually meant trouble for the Kingdom.

“ I didn’t see any of them, and I don’t sense their Qi, so I think it’s just us here.” He told her with a thoughtful scowl, Charlotte hadn’t seen any of them either, which made this meeting even more curious.

“ C’mon, let’s not keep him waiting.” Yami said suddenly as he began to walk away, she blushed even more as her mind raced ‘H-He wants to walk there together?! Won’t that give people the wrong impression?!’ Her mind screamed, but she shook her head and followed behind him. They could always say they met outside the door or something.

Charlotte watched as Yami knocked on the door, they heard Julius say something on the other side to signal to them that they could enter. Yami pushed the door open, allowing Charlotte to walk inside first, and closed it behind them.

“ Ah good you’re both already here.” Julius said with a warm happy smile, Charlotte and Yami walked up to the desk. It was still hard to believe that the Wizard King was now back to his original self, they had gotten so used to seeing him younger that they would sometimes forget this was him.

“ Why are we here Julius?” Yami asked as he crossed his arms, he wasn’t really in the mood for chit chat, and he assumed Charlotte wasn’t either since she had a small scowl on her face as well. They were both trying to train their squads so they could face the Spade Kingdom, and this was distracting them from doing that.

“ Well,” he said with a sheepish laugh, that only made the two Captains scowl further. “ I went down stairs where we keep the forbidden magic items, and I stumbled across this portal. I don’t think it’s ever been used, anyway, I went down there looking to see if there may be an item to help me change back to my proper age. Well, instead I found her,” Julius moved out of the way and behind him sat a young girl around 19 years old.

She had long dark hair, bright blue eyes, and a small scowl on her face. Charlotte looked her up and down, she was wearing a deep blue top with a pair of dark brown pants, wrist length gloves, and dark knee length boots. But what caught her attention was the cloak she was wearing, Charlotte’s eyes widened as she looked at the insignia, it was a Black Bulls robe, she looked over at Yami and saw he recognized it too. But if he was surprised he didn’t let it show.

“ Why did you give some random kid my squads robe Julius?” Yami asked as he suddenly grabbed a cigarette and put it into his mouth.

“ I’m not just some random kid! Also, if you’re going to smoke it’s best to do it outside or, even better, stop smoking. It’s bad for you.” The young girl remarked as she stood up from the chair she had been sitting in and walked over to stand next to Julius’s desk.

Charlotte and Yami blinked, this kid had quite the mouth on her. But he did as she asked and pulled the cigarette out of his mouth and put it back in it’s case. The young girl smiled in triumph, that's when Yami frowned. That smile, it looked familiar, but where had he seen it before?

“ Anytime I ask you to smoke outside you always ignore me, but when a child asks you too you listen and do it without a second thought.” Charlotte commented with a small laugh and a shake of her head, Yami rolled his eyes a bit, of course he was going to listen to a kid. He wouldn’t admit this to anyone, but he could be a big softie when it came to kids. He looked over and noticed Charlotte had a small smile on her face, he paled slightly, that was the same smile the young girl wore just a moment ago.

“ Hey kid, what’s your name?” He asked, hoping beyond hope that his gut feeling was wrong, that her Qi wasn’t what he saw it to be. The young girl glanced over to Julius who nodded, she turned back to them, her head held high as she announced.

“ My name’s Hikari, Hikari Sukehiro.” Both Captains paled, Sukehiro? As in Yami Sukehiro?! Charlotte turned to look at him, he wasn’t able to hide the surprise on his face at this revelation.

She felt a small pang in her chest, as though someone had just plunged a dagger into it, he had a daughter? With another woman? She shook her head, they weren’t dating so what right did she have to be hurt and upset, at the most they were just colleagues. Nothing more, nothing less. But it still hurt to think of him being with another woman, of him having a child with another woman.

“ This isn’t funny Julius.” Yami growled, he knew this wasn’t a joke, just from the way she stood he could tell she was his daughter, also from the way she had no problem telling him off about smoking. The only thing that confused him though, was why she had the same smile as Charlotte.

“ It isn’t a joke Yami, she came here from the future, at least according to her. I had Marx use his memory magic on her, everything she has told me is the truth and her memories prove it.” Julius said as he leaned back against his desk, Charlotte couldn’t help but glare at him slightly.

“ Why did you call me here then you majesty? Just so you could have a witness in case Yami tried to murder you?” She asked, a little more ice to her tone then she had intended. It didn’t go unnoticed. Julius blinked a bit before looking over at Hikari.

“ Um, I think you need to explain your parentage a little more, Hikari.” He stated with a nervous laugh, the young girl nodded.

“ Yes sir. It’s true, my father is Yami Sukehiro. But my mother,” she turned to look at the blonde haired woman. “ is Charlotte Roselei.”

Charlotte blinked at Hikari. Her? She was her mother?! No, no, no, that made no sense! How could she be this girl's mother? She and Yami weren’t even dating! There was no way Hikari was their daughter!

“ That makes sense,” Yami said suddenly, she whipped around to face him, her face brighter than the sun, and she gaped like a fish out of water.

“ H-How does this make sense?!” She suddenly shouted, she watched a small smirk tug at the corner of his lips.

“ Her Qi first off; it’s a mixture of mine and yours which is why I didn’t recognize it at first. Second, the way she carries herself is the same as you, her eyes are a similar shade although they’re a little lighter than yours, and her smile, heh, that smile; it’s exactly the same as yours.” He said the last part so softly, so warmly, it made Charlotte not only turn redder, but it made her heart melt. He...noticed how she smiled? Of course he did, he was very observant. But what she didn’t expect to see was how his smirk had changed into a warm loving smile, how his eyes had softened.

Charlotte had to be dreaming, she just had too!

“ So, umm...until we can get Hikari back to her own time, she’s going to have to stay with one of you or, if you want my opinion, both of you. Since she is your child and it’s probably what she’s used to, I’d suggest you all find somewhere to stay that’s close enough to each of your respective headquarters. I think it’ll be easier for Hikari to adjust that way.” Julius said with an innocent smile, both Captains couldn’t help but frown, was he trying to subtly get them to move in together? Yami suddenly sighed.

“ Fine, I guess we really don’t have much of a choice huh. Especially since that was an order.” Yami stated, causing Charlotte to gap at him even more, he wasn’t even going to try and convince the Wizard King that them moving in together was a very bad idea?! But as much as Charlotte wanted to argue, she could tell by the tone of the Wizards king's voice that it was, in fact, an order. She also couldn’t disagree, it would probably be better for the young girl if they all did live together. She suddenly chuckled humorlessly at the situation.

Finding out she had a daughter and now being ordered to move in with the man she was in love with who, by the way, was completely oblivious to her feelings for him? This was not how she was expecting this meeting to go!

——

Ah i’m sorry if this isn’t very good 😅! I couldn’t really think of how to end this but I hope some of you enjoyed this and I apologize if you didn’t! Also I hope you like it Lei 🥺💕! Thanks for reading and I hope you all have a good day~!

[morwensteelsheen]

farawyn and borodred for the ship ask game thing?

thank you so much!! :)

okay i’ll start with borodred because for some unfathomable reason i actually got there first —

1. What made you ship it?

One of my favourite Types of ships is the Elder Statesmen Of War-type set-ups, where it’s less about people brought together through theatrical romantic gestures and more about the steadiness of people who are going through similar (immensely difficult) circumstances, who know that in their hearts they’re always going to put their duty to that cause first, but still seek out human comfort in other people who will understand what their priorities are and why.

I think there’s also a lot of similarities about the kind of helplessness they both face despite having this tremendous innate strength. Both of them still have to deal with family dynamics that are complex (made more complex by the war) and that can’t be fixed just by their own sheer will power; both of them die these utterly unnecessary deaths (not that death makes a ship but I think in this instance it actually points to the constant tragedy these guys face); and both of them are meant to be the principal figures of their families and people and are ultimately sidelined by the cruel mechanisations of war and the forward march of history or whatever wanky term there is for it — my apologies to ep thompson's ghost, dont haunt me bro.

Plus there’s obviously the interesting thread raised when Faramir starts bitching about Gondor and likens Gondor (and by very explicit extension, Boromir) to Rohan. That always made me go ‘Hmmmmmm, wonder what else Boromir liked about Rohan,’ lmao.

Anyways for me the ship is the equivalent of Star Wars’ Kanan and Hera or (my OTP to end all others) Luke and Wedge, just people getting by on love and duty and without big ol fancy romance.

2. What are your favorite things about the ship?

The fanon, I think, really makes it, as with so many other LOTR ships. battlefield manners, by themightypen is essentially the definitive take for me on them — these two guys who are just so fucking exhausted, man, but still overcome by defensive love for their families, even if their (foster-)siblings are naïve fools. That I just love, love, love. Plus I think they’re unique for their ability to pretty comfortable explore the relationship between Gondor & Rohan in advance of the Ring War without having to stray too far into AU, which I always appreciate.

3. Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

Not really, tbh, except in that I don’t think Boromir is necessarily as laddy as people like to portray him. I’m happy to play into it in, say, my modern AUs because I think that’s a fun and sweet niche for him, but I am a bit 🤪 about Boromir as this kind of reckless, drunken playboy (not least because I think that’s a much funnier niche for Faramir to fill, at least when he’s younger). Chapter Four of Swaddledog’s Hearts and Minds gets my preferred Boromir characterisation absolutely spot on, I think.

And now, sigh, the ultimate OTP, Farawyn —

1. What made you ship it?

For starters, I think I am obsessed with Éowyn in a way I’ve never quite been obsessed with any other fictional character. I came to reading LOTR at this moment in my life where I was intensely frustrated about everything — trapped inside permanently (helplessly!) because of the pandemic, just starting a new political organisation that I truly believed in but that was still making me feel like shit, facing down an untenable about of work, and, fundamentally, really, really hating being a woman and what that means. And along comes Éowyn, who is bitter, who is cold, who is ANGRY, and who doesn’t perform joy or softness or gentleness just because people expect her to. She’s this seminal Woman Of War in so many ways, I think the kind of person a lot of us wish we could be. She’s got her emotional taps cut off at the source, she holds her head high and faces down unimaginable personal and political terrors, and at the end of it all still has this abiding love for her family that, I would argue, is almost unparalleled by anyone else in the book.

After all that, she gets this incredible moment of emotional catharsis (or what we expect to be emotional catharsis): “no living man am I!” She undertakes THE greatest martial act of the Ring War, and in that moment there’s this unbelievably sophisticated dialogue happening about gender (“Éowyn it was, and Dernhelm also”), and leadership (Merry finding his courage not because of the immediate scenario of the Witch-king, but because he’s spurred into it by Éowyn’s presence), and love and care.

And then we learn that no, actually, this glorious act of violence wasn’t the emotional catharsis we thought it would be. She gets to ride to war, she gets to throw herself headlong at death, and in the end that hopeless act of individualism isn’t really what does it for her. She’s still left desolate and despairing, and actually all of her problems haven’t gone away.

And then we need to rewind a bit, because along comes Faramir, who is gentle, and is kind, and does seem to believe in joy, but not because people expect it — actually it's made abundantly clear nobody expects it — but because it’s something quite innate to how he figures the world. And he’s a huge fucking nerd too. I have a lot of thoughts on Faramir’s flaws and why I find them endearing, which I won’t put here, but almost immediately you get this sense of a guy who’s quite melodramatic, good humoured, and very much not made to live in a time of war.

But he’s also clear-headed about war and what it requires (tactically, if not strategically, though that’s a post for another day), but who is kind of cynical and weary of it in his own unique way. And it’s a unique cynicism given his personal circumstances because he’s the second son of The great family of Gondor, he’s apparently — though with some big ol’ question marks hanging about the extent — very able to command some of the elite units in the realm, and what’s more than that, he’s got all these fantastical powers (the light mind reading to start, to say nothing of this apparently magical ability to command animals too. bruh.). By all accounts he should be this brazen hot mess, but he’s not. He’s desperate to claw his way out of this war-torn cage of expectation his people have for how a man should comport himself in time of war. Is it a little naïve? Sure. A little fussy? Absolutely. But does it point to that same desperation that Éowyn has? Yes! But also the practicality, like, neither of them are really enjoying the circumstances they live under, but good fucking god are they both able to Make It Work.

So finally we get to the Houses of Healing and what is the finest and most aggressively romantic writing of LOTR. Seriously, it’s so fucking much. It’s breathtaking. It reminds me quite viscerally of this fabulous quote from Les Mis:

The power of a glance has been so much abused in love stories, that it has come to be disbelieved in. Few people dare now to say that two beings have fallen in love because they have looked at each other. Yet it is in this way that love begins, and in this way only.

At some point I will devote more time to talking about the two reasons line, and the blissful Queen of Gondor speech, but I think to me that big, important line is: “And then her heart changed, or at least she understood it; and the winter passed, and the sun shone upon her.”

It’s not about Éowyn changing herself entirely (though, I think, it really does bear mentioning that she does change, and that’s every bit as important to understanding that scene as it is romantic), it’s about Éowyn coming to terms with how to live with herself as herself, and how to live in communion with someone else. She can’t just cut people out anymore, and she can’t just treat them as objects of infatuation as she did with Aragorn, she has to reckon with people as they are. And that’s sort of the moment where I knew I was about to plunge fully off the deep end with these two and never know a moments’ peace again, lmao.

2. What are your favorite things about the ship?

Someone on here once called Farawyn a love letter to women and, by god, yes, exactly that. I love the capacity for emotional intimacy, that is beautiful in ways I can’t express. To me, though, my favourite thing is the promise of life they speak of. Not as in oh they shag loads and have babies (though not opposed to that, obviously), but in the sense that unlike Aragorn and Arwen, who are always going to be buried under/burdened with the crushing weight of history and tradition, Éowyn and Faramir are going out yonder those hills and they’re going to do some real cottagecore farming shit. Obviously with all the trappings of rank and nobility and whatnot, but they, unique to anybody else in the books, get to sow this new idea of what life should be. They are, outside of Aragorn, the single most powerful people in Gondor. Éowyn’s got the ear of a king, a steward (which is essentially a prime-ministerial deal here), and functionally her own prince (if the hobbits are to be believed when they refer to it as essentially hers). I suspect that, in life, there were remarkably few arguments she wasn’t winning, and that Ithilien probably trended towards the jumped up noble hippie camp Tolkien so desperately wanted Oxford to be (or, in other words — Cambridge, lol).

3. Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

Yeah, man, everybody stop treating Faramir like he’s a big fucking crybaby and Éowyn like she’s some kind of shrieking 2010-era tumblr girl.

One of the single most important lines defining Faramir’s character is when Denethor roasts his ass for always trying to appear noble and lordly, if you ignore every other piece of textual evidence we have about him, what part of that line makes you think Faramir’s some simpering daisy? And why would you want to link tremendous emotional intelligence and care with being too limp-wristed to function, lol??? Like I struggle loads with writing Faramir, because I have never once in my life tried to be noble or self-restrained, so find it hard to get into that mindset, but better, I think, to imagine him too closed off than to do this wilting flower song and dance lmao.

And stop making Éowyn out to be this over-emotional angst machine. She’s got problems, yes, and she’s sure as shit got a lot of angst, but at almost every point in the book where we’re overtly dealing with her emotions, she’s sublimating them into something else. One of the most serious times we see her cry is when she’s fighting with Aragorn about riding out, and after that moment she literally tries to kill herself. Those tears aren’t standard, man, that’s a real watershed (lol) moment for her. You have to read around what the text is saying to get a better feel why everybody’s constantly calling her cold and distant.